I have said that Oldroyd and I still continued to play the rôle of chief foragers of the party, by providing fish and flesh—or rather fowl—for the community. As has always been stated, the island was rich in bird life, some three or four varieties of which afforded most acceptable additions to our larder, and these we now invariably brought down with our bows and arrows, in the use of which we had eventually become so expert that we thought nothing of the feat of bringing down a pigeon on the wing.
Of course foraging for the larder occupied but a limited portion of our time, much of which remained for other occupations. And these occupations were not long in presenting themselves. For example, there was our tobacco patch to be looked after. The quality of our first crop was so good that those of us who smoked indulged in the habit to the full, with the result that long before the next crop was ready our stock began to run short, and we were obliged to retrench. Naturally, this suggested an extension of the patch, and Oldroyd and I spent a good deal of time cleaning and hoeing some two acres of fresh ground and sowing it, also in thinning out the existing patch, rooting up the most unpromising plants so as to give additional room and air to the rest. Then, shortly after the cessation of the rainy season, we—or, rather, Oldroyd—made two important discoveries, the first of which consisted in the finding of a few scattered specimens of the cotton plant, while the other was the discovery of a bush very similar in nature and appearance to one which flourishes in certain districts of South Africa, from the leaves of which the Boers brew a concoction which they call “hunger tea”, from the fact that it has somewhat the taste of ordinary tea while it is provocative of a good healthy appetite. Our first business after these important discoveries was to prepare another patch of ground for the reception of the cotton plants, and then to transplant them; and our next carefully to gather and dry the leaves of all the “hunger tea” bushes we could find. These occupations, with a visit to the lagoon and the lake four days each week, for fish, sufficed to keep Oldroyd and myself so busy that we had very little time to spare for companionship with the others.
Thus far we had neither seen nor heard anything of the savages who dwelt in the basin at the north-western extremity of the island, we had never paid a second visit to the edge of the basin or gone nearer to it than the northern end of the lake, not having had occasion to do so; and so far as danger was concerned, so completely had the idea of it in connection with the savages become dissociated from our minds that whenever either of the girls, or both of them, proposed to accompany us on our excursions to the lagoon or the lake for fish, as they now sometimes did, declaring that they required a little change from the ordinary routine of their daily lives, we never dreamed of saying them nay.
The first hint of possible danger from the savages came to us one afternoon when Anthea, in her frankest and most genial manner, informed Oldroyd and me that if we would promise to be good boys and take the utmost care of her, she might be tempted to accompany us to the lake, whither we were bound to procure a supply of fish. Of course we gave the promise, for when the girl was in an agreeable mood she was delightful company; and shortly afterward we started off, visiting our tobacco patch and cotton fields on the way, where we found the plants progressing as satisfactorily as heart could wish.
Arrived at the lake, we launched our raft, got aboard, and at once headed for a tiny bay about half-way down the lake which we had discovered to be the favourite haunt of a species of trout the flesh of which was of a peculiarly fine and delicate flavour. Our destination reached, we anchored the raft with a “killick”, or large stone, at a spot about a hundred yards from the western shore, baited our lines, and began to fish. We had but two lines on the raft, and as Miss Anthea elected to take an active part in the proceedings, Oldroyd willingly surrendered his line to her and, stretching himself at full length along the middle of the raft, smoked at his ease.
The fish were biting freely that afternoon, and we had already, between us, landed upward of a dozen, Oldroyd unhooking Anthea’s fish for her and re-baiting her hook when just as he had again performed this service and was settling back into a recumbent position, Anthea cried out in a low, tense voice—
“Jack—Paul—look! There is a man peeping at us through the bushes on shore.” As she spoke, she lifted her hand and pointed. “Ah!” she added, “he is gone, now. I believe he saw me pointing.”
“A man!” we both exclaimed. “Where?”
“You see that bush with the beautiful purple convolvulus blooms upon it? Well, he was crouching behind that bush and peering at us through its parted branches. I saw his face distinctly; but when I raised my hand and pointed, he disappeared, and I saw the parted branches spring together as he vanished.”
“Are you quite sure?” I asked.
“Yes,” she replied, “I am quite sure.”
Oldroyd looked at me and signed with his lips the word “savages.” I nodded.
“You are quite sure, I suppose, that it wasn’t Mason, or—or—one of the sailors?” suggested Oldroyd.
“Sure! As sure as that I am sitting here,” answered Anthea, quite composedly. “I guess he is one of the savages who, you say, live in the big basin over yonder.”
I sprang to the painter and began to haul up the killick.
“Out paddle, Oldroyd,” I said, “and head for the shore, I’m going to look into this.”
“I guess not, my son,” answered Oldroyd. “If there really was a savage there—which I don’t doubt,” he hastily added as Anthea turned upon him with a hint of lightning in her eye—“likely as not there will be a dozen or twenty more with him; and we have only our bows and arrows. What could we do against a crowd like that?”
“Shove me ashore, if you please,” I returned. “I mean to see for myself whether there is any sign of a savage having crouched behind that bush. If there is, it is important we should know it beyond doubt. But I don’t want you two to come with me; on the contrary, as soon as I am ashore I want you to paddle as hard as you can to the landing place, and then hurry Anthea to the tower.”
“No, Jack,” interposed Anthea, “I won’t have it; you shall not do it. Head for the beach, Paul,” she ordered, seizing a paddle and beginning to use it.
“But, Anthea—” I began to protest.
“I don’t care,” she interrupted, vehemently plying her paddle; “Paul is right; the savage I saw may have twenty—or fifty—more with him, and if you were to land, you would just get killed, and—no, you shall not land—or, if you do, I will land with you!”
“All right,” I said. “Of course that settles it. We will make for the beach and—give me the paddle, please, ’Thea; I am stronger than you, and we must return to the tower without loss of time. But we will take our fish with us, so while Oldroyd and I paddle perhaps you will kindly string our catch upon that length of liana.”
We reached the beach without further sight or sound of the savage, or savages; and then, while Oldroyd stood on guard, with his bow bent and an arrow fitted to the string, I hauled up the raft, secured her, and removed the fishing lines so that they might not be stolen. I more than half anticipated an attack while we stood there exposed upon the open beach, but nothing happened, and when we had made everything as secure as possible we started off for the ruin, Oldroyd leading with bent bow, cautious step, and eyes that searched every tree and bush along the path; Anthea going next, carrying our catch of fish; and I, also with bent bow, bringing up the rear, walking backward for the most part and, it must be confessed, every moment expecting to see a party of savages break through the scrub and come howling at us. But nothing untoward happened, and in due time we reached the ruin and safety, unmolested.
The news that a savage had been seen in what we had come to regard as our own exclusive part of the island was productive at first of excitement, which yielded to a feeling of doubt as to whether Anthea had not been mistaken, especially as neither Oldroyd nor I had seen anything alarming. But ’Thea stuck to her guns and was so certain that she had seen a strange face peering out at us through the bushes that incredulity in its turn yielded to conviction, and a council of war was held as to what steps should be taken for our protection. The thing we had most to fear was a rush from ambush and the capture of the ruined monastery—if such it was—by assault. True, the ground all round the building, for the space of nearly a quarter of a mile was for the most part open, being encumbered only here and there with small, detached patches of scrub; but even these were numerous enough and bulky enough to permit of small bodies of men taking cover behind them, and so creeping near enough to cover the remaining open ground in a rush, we therefore proceeded to destroy these by piling dry twigs and branches round them and setting them on fire, and then breaking down and carrying away the charred remains. We managed to complete that task before dark, after which we felt safe, comparatively speaking, with absolutely open ground all round for a full quarter of a mile. Then Oldroyd and Mason got out their firearms, gave the weapons a thorough cleaning and oiling, loaded them, and arranged them at various strategic points round the building, each with its little pile of ammunition, while the rest of us overhauled our bowstrings, fitted new where necessary, and proceeded diligently to add to our stock of war arrows. Finally, although we were doubtful as to the likelihood of an attack that night, we arranged a system of watches, the sentinels took up their appointed positions, and those not on duty retired to rest.
The night passed without alarm or disturbance; and while we sat at breakfast next morning another informal council of war was held, at which the question of our future proceedings was discussed. Among other points raised was that of the nomination of one of our party as a recognised head, or leader, who should take command, arrange a plan of campaign, and issue orders for the conduct of every member of the party, who should be bound to obey him. This suggestion was made by the Doctor, and was supported by the others of the party, all of whom seemed inclined to think me the proper person for the post. But while declaring myself willing to accept the responsibility, I felt bound to explain that I had had no actual experience of fighting, and knew nothing of war tactics, while both Oldroyd and Mason had mingled with savages on more than one occasion and must have acquired a considerable amount of knowledge as to the best method of dealing with them, I therefore proposed that one of them should take the position of captain. To this, however, both demurred, pointing out that, being a shipwrecked party, they had hitherto regarded me, a sailor, as the one most competent to assume the direction of affairs, and that in their opinion it would be unwise to make any alteration at the present juncture. Finally it was decided that I should continue to be regarded as in command of the party, with Oldroyd and Mason as my lieutenants, both of whom very heartily promised unreservedly to place their knowledge and experience at my disposal.
Breakfast over, Oldroyd, Mason and I climbed the tower, to reconnoitre the face of the country, and further to discuss a plan of operations. With my telescope I examined the open country in sight, but nowhere could I detect any sign of savages, although we were all agreed that unless Anthea was mistaken in supposing that she had seen the face of one peering at her on the previous day—as to which we were by this time a little doubtful—the savages, once apprised of the presence of strangers upon the island, would lose not a moment in ascertaining where those strangers had located themselves, how many they were, and any other particulars. We were equally agreed that it was of vital importance for us to discover as much as possible regarding the movements of the savages and their intentions. With regard to the savage seen—or supposed to have been seen—by Anthea on the previous afternoon, Oldroyd and Mason were of opinion that, if the man was not the figment of Miss Shirley-Winthrop’s imagination, or a trick of light and shadow momentarily assuming the semblance of a human countenance, he would track us first to the beach, and thence to the ruined monastery, probably lurk within sight of the ruin until darkness closed down, discovering all he could about us, and then make his way back to his friends, to report. They further agreed that the savages, having preparations to make, would not move before daylight.
But I was never a patient individual; if there was going to be war I wanted to know exactly where the enemy was, how many of him there were, and all about him. I therefore proposed that I should take a double-barrelled sporting gun and a pocketful of buckshot cartridges and, making a wide détour, go out upon a reconnoitring expedition, pushing forward, if possible, as far as the Basin itself, with the general object of gaining information. Oldroyd and Mason, however, would not hear of it; they were in agreement with me as to the desirability of obtaining information, but I had had no experience of savage methods of warfare, and knew not what dangers to guard against; and so, therefore, for me to undertake the adventure would be tantamount to throwing away my life without any useful result. They, on the other hand, were accustomed to mingle with savages, they knew the tricks and peculiarities of the average native and how to deal with him, both in war and in peace, and if the proposed expedition must be undertaken—and they agreed that it was in every way desirable—one or the other of them was the proper person to undertake it. To this argument I had no reply. Accordingly it was agreed that Oldroyd should go, since he knew the country and the best route to the Basin; and five minutes later he quietly set out, without saying anything to the others. As Mason and I bade him farewell at the base of the tower I reminded him of the existence of the subterranean passage from the tower to the monastery, pointed out to him that if he failed to effect an entrance of the one he might succeed with the other; and then, after we had watched him out of sight, we set to work with a will to strengthen our fortress by barricading its two entrances—that at the tower and the other at the ruin—as effectively as possible.
There was plenty for all of us to do, in view of the possibility that the savages, if they attacked us, might choose to fight the fight of “sit down”, that is to say, to beleaguer us in the hope of starving us out; therefore the two girls undertook to maintain a watch, the one from the summit of the tower and the other from the roof of the monastery—both being of course strictly cautioned not to allow themselves to be seen, while Mason and I, with the two seamen, went from point to point of our defences, strengthening them where necessary, until by mid-afternoon we had done everything that was possible. We then had time to feel anxious about Oldroyd, who had been absent long enough to have made his way to the Basin and back, if he had not been detained.