The Happy Mariners (18 page)

Nautical Tallboy regarded this performance with respectful admiration. ‘I'm sure, Mr Murder,' said he, ‘you're the best mimic in the world, Mr Murder. Only don't answer them again, I beg you, for they're such rude rough children, they might do us a mischief, and then Mother would never forgive me.'

‘And I'll tell you another thing,' said Bill Murder, evidently resuming his story. ‘There's treasure somewhere on this island, and them little brats is after it. As I lay sleeping by that camp fire of theirs, on the one hand I wasn't asleep, Nautical, but on the other
hand
(a)
I had my eyes shut,
(b)
I was lying still, and
(c)
you couldn't have told the difference.'

Nautical Tallboy, who had just trimmed his nails with a cutlass, and was now busy polishing them on a wash-leather pad, looked up from his toilet and smiled devotion at Bill Murder. ‘Really, Mr Murder?' he exclaimed. ‘You don't say! My, Mr Murder! You're a dark one and no mistake!'

‘Which I mean to say,' went on Bill Murder, ‘I wasn't sleeping all the time. I woke, as you might say, to find myself in jeopardy. Judge, Nautical, of my horror and alarm. But did I scream for Mother, as any common pirate might have done? No, Nautical, I keeps a firm hold on me emotions, and I lies quiet, listening with all my ears, both of them. It was the girl Elizabeth that was talking, and the brat Martin was talking back. “There's treasure,” says they, “and pieces of eight, and a keg of rum, and an iced cake with all our names on it,” they says; and they gives a sigh, a nasty greedy sigh, and nudges each other. And so, Nautical, when I come upon them footprints what we knows on, what does I do but put two and two together! No mortal boot, Nautical Tallboy, ever made a footprint that size, and if you don't believe me ask Holy Smoke, what was a cobbler's mate before he took to the sea. It was his job to hold the nails in his mouth and spit 'em out as required. That boot, depend upon it, was made special to intimidate the likes of you and me.
That little female foot wore that same boot by way of a disguise when she went to put the icing on yonder cake.' At the thought of the cake Bill Murder rolled his eyes in a frenzy of desire, and smacked his lips together greedily. ‘After you with the manicure set, Nautical lad,' he said, with a profound sigh.

The boys waited to hear no more, but stole away as quietly as they could. When they were safely out of earshot of the pirates they stopped a moment to take their bearings.

‘We must get back at once to the cabin,' said Rex. His voice trembled, as it had never, in Guy's experience, trembled before.

‘Yes,' agreed Guy. ‘Elizabeth must have got tired and gone back.' Guy didn't really believe what he said. He was only doing his best to keep up their spirits. A new fear had entered his heart: that perhaps, having been decoyed so far out of the path he knew, they might take hours to find their way back to the log-cabin. Martin—there's no disguising the fact—was quietly sobbing. ‘The log-cabin
ought
to be due south,' said Guy, examining his compass. So in that direction they ran as hard as they could.

Where was Elizabeth all this time? She had turned aside from the path her brothers were following, to have a closer look at that dark shape stretched out in the long grass. When she came nearer she saw that it was the body of a man, a naked brown man. She stood staring; the shock made her catch her breath, as though she had taken a sudden plunge into icy water. It was one thing to fire through a gap in the wall at a company of murderous pirates, with no need to notice too particularly the effect of the shots, but quite another to find a man lying dead within ten yards of her own log-cabin. But was he dead? Surely those limbs moved a little? Next moment she gave a sigh of relief, for the wounded savage raised himself on one elbow and returned her stare. Yes, she was relieved to find him alive, and gave no thought to the possibility that he might attack her. She knew at once that he was badly hurt; his attitude was enough to tell her that, and the strained patient look in his eyes, like that of a dumb animal in pain, was more eloquent still. She ran
towards him, eager to help. ‘Where are you hurt?' she asked. ‘Did the pirates do it?' But before the question was out of her mouth it was answered by what she saw for herself. There was a deep ugly cut on the savage's arm, another on one of his legs. Both wounds were bleeding copiously, and he was evidently weak and faint from loss of blood. At sight of her the savage's eyes lit up, with a hint in them of surprise at seeing so pleasant a sight as Elizabeth, and he bared his white teeth in a grin of welcome. He was not a very big man, but Elizabeth guessed at once that he was a leader among the cannibals, perhaps their chief; for he wore not only the regulation bone-skewer through his nose but a heavy necklace of teeth, and his face was tattooed in the most impressive style. He was quite the ugliest man she had ever seen, but his ugliness was of a reassuring kind, not cunning and cruel like that of Gory Jake. He had the trustful air of a familiar and faithful domestic animal, and she felt sure that she could make a pet of him.

‘Now you'd better come into the log-cabin with me,' she said. ‘The sun's going down and you ought to be in bed. And those wounds need bathing.'

‘Bolla woosh,' remarked the savage pleasantly.

Taking this to signify consent, she made signs to him that he was to try to get up and she would help him to walk. After three unsuccessful attempts he rose; and slowly, the savage leaning on Elizabeth's shoulder, this oddly assorted couple went into the logcabin.
Not until they were safe in its shelter did Elizabeth remember the treasure expedition, and that her brothers would be wondering what had become of her; and even then the business of attending to the savage's wounds soon put it out of her head.

So it was with surprise, and some little indignation, that she looked up, finger on lip, when Rex burst unceremoniously into her hospital ward, saying: ‘Thank goodness you're here, Elizabeth! A pretty dance you've led us.' His glance fell on the black man. ‘Why, what on earth is this?'

Guy and Martin tumbled in at Rex's heels. ‘Hullo!: said Guy. If he noticed the savage at all, he wasted no time looking at him, having eyes for no one but Elizabeth. Ever since her absence had been discovered he had been thinking of her as a captive among pirates, perhaps even killed; and now he was content to stare at her and so satisfy himself that she was still alive and unhurt. Martin, tearful but radiant, flung himself upon his sister and hugged her vigorously, somewhat to the embarrassment of his brothers.

‘Hush!' said Elizabeth. ‘Don't make a noise. He's asleep, poor lamb.'

‘Who is he?' demanded Rex. ‘And how did he get here?'

Elizabeth answered: ‘I found him lying a little way outside. He was left badly wounded by the pirates. At first I thought he was dead, and I forgot all about
the treasure and our expedition, and when I remembered you were all too far away to hear me call…'

‘Did you call?' asked Guy self-reproachfully.

‘Well, no,' confessed Elizabeth. ‘As a matter of fact I didn't. I just helped him in here, and dressed his wounds as best I could. He's rather a grand one, isn't he? And so beautifully ugly. I rather believe he's the leader, the Chief of the Cannibals. I wonder what he wears that thing through his nose for?'

‘Because he wants to, I expect,' said Martin, who by now was enraptured by the sight of Elizabeth's patient, and greatly admired his decorations.

All four of them stood in a group looking down upon the sleeping man. After a while Rex broke the silence by saying: ‘Well, it looks as though we shall have to leave the treasure now. Still, it doesn't matter so long as Elizabeth's all right. But I tell you what: someone's got to go down to the creek to see that all's clear, and…'

‘Bags I!' said Guy quickly.

‘No, you don't,' answered Rex. ‘I'm captain on shore, don't forget. So bags I the easy job.'

‘What do you mean by easy job?' said Guy, seeing through his pretence.

‘Well, don't you see,' explained Rex guilefully, ‘it's here that the danger lies. This place may be attacked again, and someone must be here to defend Elizabeth and Martin. That's you, Guy. I'll be back in a jiffy, and then, if the coast's clear, we can all make
for the longboat and board the
Resmiranda,
and sail home.'

‘How can we sail home without Phineas?' asked Guy.

‘Poor Phineas!' exclaimed Elizabeth. ‘I'm afraid the pirates must have got him.'

Rex nodded gravely. ‘Looks like it. It's beastly leaving him behind, but what chance do we stand of finding him?' He looked at Guy and added, as if answering an unspoken criticism: ‘We can't risk these two, you know, on the bare chance of finding old Phineas. If the pirates haven't got him, or the savages, ten to one the lions and tigers have.' He made for the door. ‘Back in a jiffy,' he repeated.

A few moments later the Chief of the Cannibals opened his eyes, stared a little, and moaned faintly.

‘Oh dear!' said Elizabeth. ‘We've woken him up. Go to sleep again, please,' she implored the patient, ‘there's a good cannibal!' The sufferer rewarded her with a radiant smile of surpassing ugliness, and closed his eyes obediently, though he couldn't have understood a word she said.

‘Do you think it would be nice,' said Martin, ‘if I played him a few tunes on the flute?'

Elizabeth looked doubtful, but Guy grinned and said: ‘Have a try, Martin. But don't make too much of a beastly row. It's not fair to torture a prisoner.'

So Martin went through his pockets in search of his flute, which, when found, bore a striking resemblance
to a comb wrapped round with tissue paper. On this instrument he played, to his own satisfaction, a variant rendering of
The Blue Bells of Scotland.
The medicine seemed to be doing the cannibal good, though it did not make him sleep. He opened his eyes wide, grinning broadly and exhibiting every symptom of delight. Excited by success, Martin, without waiting to be encored, repeated his performance, following it up, before any one had time to intervene, with a song which Father, deputizing for Mother, had sung him as a lullaby in his earlier youth: ‘Oh my! I don't want to die! I want to go ‘ome.'

Meanwhile Rex, hurrying through the palm grove that skirted Gunpowder Creek, was confronted by an alarming spectacle. Since he had left his party, the first menace of darkness had fallen over the island; the sea was now slate-grey, and the last colours of sunset were fading out of the sky. The western horizon, where sea met sky, was hidden from his view by the intervening land (the leopard's upper jaw), which showed already as a dark mass outlined against a sky, stained as by wine, that grew dimmer and darker with every passing moment. But the cause for alarm was nearer at hand, and in the opposite direction. Away on the beach, where Gunpowder Creek merged into Bonfire Bay, black figures were running backwards and forwards, busy as ants. The cannibals! Rex gripped his cutlass more tightly and took a deep breath, for it looked as though there were little chance
now of getting to the
Resmiranda.
He looked round for the longboat. Yes, there it was, just where they had beached it. Walking on tiptoe, conscious of the risk he was taking of being seen by the cannibals, he stole to the edge of the grove, and thence, dropping on hands and knees, crept like a cat towards the boat. Then he caught sight of something that made him stop, with wildly beating heart. Lying at the bottom of the longboat were two pirates. They were evidently in the last stages of terror, and Rex, seeing their frightened glances, and hearing them muttering together, guessed that they were aware of the savages. For a moment he calculated the chances of his taking the boat single-handed; but that, he reflected, would certainly involve making a noise, and so invite cannibal attention. With his eyes on the men in the boat he backed stealthily away. Sparing a glance for the further beach, he saw that the savages had lit a fire, round which they were now dancing and screaming in delight. Great tongues of flame and clouds of blue smoke rose in their midst. Presently three stalwarts staggered along under the weight of an enormous stewpot, which they hung on a tripod over the fire. The din became almost deafening, for at sight of their supper the savages beat their tom-toms and laughed and shrieked louder than ever, till, at a sign from their leader, they broke into a ritual war-dance, leaping and stabbing at the sky with their spears, howling a weird tuneless chant in time with their stamping feet. The
fierce rhythm of the dance excited Rex, so that, hardly knowing what he did, and forgetting both fear and caution, he moved nearer and nearer to the assembly. Suddenly, when he was no more than a hundred paces from the revellers, the din and the dance abruptly ceased. It was as though these crazy black men had all been worked by wires, and the puppet-master had tired of his sport with them. The effect was to shock Rex into a realization of his danger. After one instant of paralysed fear, he turned and ran. Was it too late? Frenzied howls broke out behind him; two spears whizzed over his head; and the patter of naked feet on the sand sent a shudder down his spine. On and on he ran, the blood beating in his head, his breath coming short, his legs wearying; but as he reached the palm grove he gained fresh courage. He had not yet flung off the pursuit, but at least he had held his own, and now, with a new resolve, he set himself to maintain a steady pace, running lightly on the tips of his toes and keeping his mouth shut as he had been taught to do by the Games Master at school. Perhaps, if he had thought of it, he would have run in any direction but that of the log-cabin, in the hope of drawing his pursuers away from the rest of his party. This is just the sort of notion that would have occurred to Guy, if he had been in Rex's shoes now; but Guy, being not so quick on his feet as Rex, and not so strong, would certainly have been caught and tossed into the stewpot. Rex's one idea, happily, was
to reach the log-cabin, and ten minutes later, with the howling savages still hot on his track, he burst in on the others with the cry: ‘Run! Run! All of us! The savages are hunting me.'