It was not, however, until nearly nine o’clock that night that our adventurous friend turned up, and then he had a sufficiently exciting story to tell.
“When I left you fellows, this morning,” he said, addressing Mason and me, “I started off by way of the left bank of the stream, for a distance of about a mile, until I came to the elbow in which the tobacco patch is; and here I struck away from the stream, past the outer edge of the cotton plantation, heading for the western shore of the lake, my object being to find the bush from behind which ’Thea believed she saw—”
“There is no question of ‘believing’,” interrupted ’Thea. “I did see him, as plainly as I see you now.”
“Precisely,” agreed Oldroyd, “you did see him, without a doubt; for in due time I found the bush and, behind it, the fellow’s form where he had crouched in the long grass, watching us. From there his trail was easy enough to follow, for he appeared to have been at no pains to obliterate it. Of course I followed it, to ascertain his subsequent movements. It led close along the shore of the lake until it reached the cotton field, and here the fellow must have lain perdu in the grass for some time—doubtless watching us as we landed from the raft—for here again his ‘form’ was distinctly marked. Ultimately he followed us close up to this building; and here again he lay watching for some time behind a clump of bushes which effectively concealed him. When he had seen all that he wanted—or, perhaps I ought to say, all that was possible—he crept away in the direction of the crater until he had got well in among the tall timber, where he went off in a westerly direction and it was only with difficulty that I could follow his tracks.
“I had gone some three or four miles, perhaps, and was in a part of the forest that I had not visited before, when suddenly a flock of parakeet took wing, some distance ahead of me, making a terrific row. They were alarmed at something, but what I could not guess; I knew it was not at myself, for I was too far away; moreover they flew toward me. I got behind the trunk of the nearest tree, and presently saw a man coming toward me. He was a savage, light in colour and not at all a bad-looking chap. He wore a full beard and moustache, and his hair was long, hanging down upon his shoulders. His clothing was a sort of short petticoat made of grass and bound round his waist by a belt of what looked like plaited grass. In one hand he carried a sheaf of half-a-dozen short spears with multi-barbed points, while in the other he had a war club the head of which—as big as my two fists—was spiked all over with what looked like shark’s teeth. He came forward noiselessly and with some caution, peering ahead and all round with his head thrust well forward.
“At first I imagined him to be alone; but presently, he turned, uttered a chirping sound like that of a bird, and others followed him, to the number of just two hundred and sixteen—for I counted them. But you can bet your bottom dollar that I wasn’t going to stay behind the trunk of that tree, with the almost certainty of being spotted by one of the sharp-eyed cusses. I just subsided into the long grass and crept for all I was worth until I had got well out of the track of the crowd, and there I lay, scarcely daring to breathe, until I reckoned that they had all gone past.
“At length, when I calculated that the last of the party must have put about a mile between himself and me, I rose first to my knees and then to my feet, and looked about me. And, will you believe me, sir, I had scarcely straightened out the kinks in my backbone when—whizz—there came a spear at me from nowhere in particular, clipping my best stetson off my head and sticking kerplunk in the trunk of a tree about two yards behind me!
“The fashion in which I disappeared from view would have done credit to the slickest ghost you ever saw; but I noted the direction from which the spear had come, and I calculated that it was from the lower branches of a certain tree, the top of which I could just see from where I lay hidden in the long grass, and at once, very cautiously, I began to circle round, on hands and knees, toward that tree. It took me a good half-hour to make a quarter of a circle, at a distance of about eighty yards, and then I came to a good big bush, thick enough to afford me perfect cover. Here I halted and, getting to my feet, managed to part the boughs until I got a clear view of the tree I suspicioned as the lurking place of the wily foe. And I guess my suspicion was dead right; for there, perched astride one of the lower branches, was the cuss I was looking for.
“Well, I guess I don’t need to tell you in detail exactly what happened to that savage, it will be enough to say that he will not trouble anybody any more. Having satisfied myself of this, I took up the trail of the rest of the party, using every precaution to make sure that none of the departed cuss’s friends were coming along the back trail to see what had become of him. This made slow work of my going, but I was anxious to avoid further trouble, moreover every yard might be bringing me nearer to those whose track I was following, and I did not want them to hear the report of my gun, and perhaps return to find out what the disturbance was about, it was therefore within half an hour of sunset when I next sighted them. And where do you suppose they are?”
“At a rough guess, I should be inclined to say they are surrounding this ruin, as near to it as they can get without being seen,” I replied.
“That is precisely where they are. But—and this is the most important point, so far as we are concerned—they are evidently in ignorance of the existence of the subterranean temple and the passages connecting this ruin with the tower, for the latter is well outside the extreme boundary of their enveloping camp—there are not enough of them, you see, to encompass the whole of the ruins and the tower; therefore I am convinced that by using the passages and the exit by way of the tower, we may, with ordinary care, contrive to keep ourselves supplied with provisions and water until—as Massey graphically puts it—further orders.”
“Will they attack us, think you, or, having invested this building and, as they believe, shut us in, will they try the game of starving us out?”
“The later, I should imagine, decidedly,” answered Oldroyd. “My experience of savages is that—with the exception, perhaps, of the Zulus—they never fight for the mere pleasure of fighting or unless it seems impossible for them to achieve their object in any other way. If any other way than fighting seems feasible, they will generally adopt that way.”
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Chapter Ten: The Attack.
Although we were all persuaded that Oldroyd’s view of the situation was correct and that we need not fear any attempt on the part of the savages to carry the ruined monastery by assault, at all events until we had been, as they would suppose, starved into a condition which would render us incapable of effective resistance, we were of course too prudent to neglect any precaution; accordingly our system of watches of the preceding night was continued, two of us doing sentry go on the flat roof of the building for four hours at a stretch. The Doctor was anxious to take turn with the rest, but with diplomacy on Oldroyd’s part we convinced him that his services were not necessary and persuaded him to give the night to sleep. With the two girls we were less successful, they simply refused to accept our dictum that they could very well be dispensed with, and insisted in joining one or another of us on the roof, until, recognising that they were both fully determined to “do their bit,” we gave in and allowed them to do their regular turn with us.
On the first night of our investment by the savages my turn of sentry go was from six o’clock until ten, after which barring excursions and alarms, I was free for the remainder of the night. But I was exceedingly anxious to see for myself the enemy’s arrangements and his methods of action in general, therefore when at ten o’clock I was relieved, instead of going directly to my cell, I obtained possession of a loaded rifle, dropped a few cartridges into my pocket, and made my way down to the basement of the building, and thence, by way of the subterranean passage, to the tower.
The most critical point in the passage from the ruined monastery to the tower was perhaps that where it became necessary to raise the loose slab of stone in the paved floor of the tower, thus uncovering the aperture at the head of the first flight of steps leading to the subterranean regions. For if by any chance an enemy happened to be occupying the base of the tower at the moment when one of us attempted to pass through the aperture, the chances were greatly in favour of instant detection. Yet detection was not necessarily inevitable, for the central column of masonry which supported the winding stairway leading to the top of the tower, and the stairway itself, effectually hid the slab from any one who might happen to be standing just inside the doorway, keeping watch upon the exterior surroundings, while as for sound, we had taken measures to render the opening and closing of the aperture noiseless.
We did not anticipate the presence of an enemy in the base of the tower; there had not been one stationed there a few hours earlier, when Oldroyd had joined us by way of the subterranean passage, and there was no particular reason why one should be stationed there now; but I neglected no precaution when I reached the critical spot, with the utmost care and silently I raised the slab, crept out, lowered the slab into place again, and noiselessly passed round the central column, and reached the doorway of the tower. A glance showed me that my precautions had been needless, the open doorway, framed by the blackness of the pierced wall, showed nothing more alarming than the view of a patch of vegetation dimly illuminated by starlight and surmounted by a narrow strip of brilliantly starlit sky.
But although the base of the tower held no enemy, it was possible that a sentinel might be posted at no great distance outside, I therefore stole on tiptoe to the opening and from its darkness peered intently about me. So intense was the darkness of the interior of the tower that the starlit landscape outside seemed by comparison to be brilliantly illuminated, every shrub, every bush, every tree, nay even the blades of grass that gently waved at my feet in the soft night breeze showed up distinctly, and had there been a human figure within my ken I must at once have detected its presence. But there was not; it was evident that the savages had no suspicion of the existence of a means of communication between the ruin which harboured our party, and the tower, and the latter was therefore left unwatched. I listened for any sound which might indicate the proximity of a human presence, but could hear nothing, I therefore stepped cautiously into the open and, again peering about me, made my way along the winding path which led through the encircling belt of shrubs to the open country beyond.
My object in venturing forth thus alone in the darkness was of course to obtain a personal view of the number and dispositions of the enemy. But the tower from which I had just issued and the beleaguered ruin were on opposite sides of the brook, which I must cross before I could reach the enemy’s camp, I therefore turned southward, following the course of the stream, until I had put about a mile between myself and the tower, when I waded across to the opposite bank and headed toward the spot where I guessed the main body of the enemy to be. My progress was naturally slow, for I was pitting myself against savages, who, all the world over, are credited with the possession of faculties sharpened to an abnormal degree, and who are known to depend to a very large extent for safety upon their keenness of sight, hearing and scent. The rustling of a leaf or twig without sufficient reason, the slightest unaccountable movement, even an odour so faint as to make no impression upon the nostrils of the civilised man, suffices to put the savage on the alert and warn him of possible danger. It was therefore imperative that I should advance as cautiously as though I were stalking a startled deer; but at length the scent of wood smoke reached my nostrils and I knew that the end of the first part of my journey was near.
Dropping upon hands and knees, I crept forward inch by inch, availing myself of every scrap of cover, until at length through the twigs of a bush I caught sight of a dull red glow, some twenty yards distant. I was still staring at this and the ground in its immediate vicinity, when a little draught of wind swept past, fanning the expiring fire into a momentary flicker of flame, by the light of which I saw a number of recumbent figures, more than half concealed by the grass in which they lay, while, some ten yards farther on, I caught a glimpse of an upright figure standing with his back toward me, and consequently facing in the direction of the ruin wherein our party was lodged.
The necessity to make my every movement with circumspection rendered the encirclement of the enemy’s position a long and tedious business, but I accomplished it at last, the result of my observations being the discovery that the savages, to the number of some two hundred, had so completely invested the monastery that it would be impossible to leave the building and pass through their lines without being detected and captured. It was evident they intended to follow the dictates of prudence by fighting the fight of “sit down”—in other words, to keep us penned up until hunger and thirst should compel us either to surrender or to attempt to force our way out by means of a sortie, for I saw nothing to indicate an intention to storm the building in the hope of carrying it by a surprise attack; on the contrary, everything seemed to point to the fact that they were prepared to remain quietly where they were just as long as need be, and not to strike a blow except in self-defence. I accomplished the circuit of the encampment as the signs of coming dawn appeared in the sky, and effected my retirement undiscovered, entering the tower at the moment when the first ray of the rising sun smote the summit of the Peak and turned it to gold. I returned by the way I had come, through the subterranean passage, taking care to secure the moveable slab so that it could not be raised from without, and rejoined the rest of my party before any of them was aware of my absence.
The maintenance of a sufficient supply of food and water for our little company was now our chief anxiety, for we knew that the savages were dependent, like ourselves, upon the adjacent woods and the neighbouring stream for everything. It was a matter demanding careful consideration, but an hour’s discussion solved the problem. We argued that the savages would do their foraging in the day time, possibly despatching messengers to the Basin from time to time to fetch such articles of food as fish, corn, meal, etcetera, as the woods did not provide. Furthermore, we judged that since the country to the north and west of the ruins was comparatively flat, while that to the south and east was steep and rugged, they—if they were at all like other savages, averse from the performance of unnecessary labour—would confine their foraging operations to the first named part of the island, which was capable of supplying their every want. The conclusion was that we must carefully confine our foraging to the southern and eastern portions of the island. Of course it would be as necessary for us as for the savages to do our foraging by daylight, since it would be difficult if not impossible to find a sufficiency of the right kinds of fruit in the dark, to say nothing of the birds, an important part of our diet; but we believed this difficulty might be overcome by sallying forth by way of the tower before daylight, and returning after dark, by which means we hoped to avoid encountering the savages or being detected by them. As for water, an adequate supply of that was easily managed, since we all so well knew the way from the tower to the stream that we could go to it at night and bring in as much as we needed while the whole force of the savages would be on the alert to prevent any of us from stealing out of the ruined monastery. This plan we adopted, with satisfactory results, although it involved a lot of night work for the menfolk of our party. In this way a full week passed, without inconvenience to us, except that the two girls were deprived of their daily walk, for it would have been madness for them to venture beyond the shelter of our four walls, and fortunately they had sense enough to know it, although both of them attempted once or twice to wheedle Oldroyd and myself into taking them with us. Also we—or rather, Mason—kept the simple savages on the alert, day and night, and induced in them an indisposition to stray very far from the neighbourhood of the ruins by making frequent feint attempts to break through their cordon, always taking care not to venture far enough away to get caught, and effecting a timely retreat under cover of the bows and arrows of the two seamen, who, having become, by assiduous practice, very fair shots, thus contrived to put some half-dozen of the savages hors de combat.