As It Was in the Beginning Part 15

He started at once for his pottery fire, in his brusque, indifferent manner.

Elaine stood there, watching his figure, retreating in the darkness, and made no move to retire. Like a dim silhouette of Vulcan, projected against the reddened glare of his furnace, he presently appeared, from the place where she eagerly kept him in her vision. She felt she could not bear to creep away until he should return.

She saw him stand for a little time observing his waning heaps of embers before he faced about to return once more to his seat. Then, slowly, as she heard his footsteps approaching, she glided silently back to her shelter, and so at length within the door. Even then she lingered eagerly, to make certain he was not far away. Until he sat down, and stirred up the flames, she did not return to her couch.

"To be so perfectly fearless!" she murmured, half aloud, and so crept away to her dark, uncomfortable cave.

Grenville pocketed the doc.u.ments, still lying face up on his rock. He finally slept beside the fire, to finish his plans in dreams.

These plans, which were vague enough that night, matured fairly early in the morning. He had resolved to try for the tiger at the spring.

Fully expecting to encounter abundant signs of the animal conflict of the midnight hours, he descended the trail before Elaine had appeared, intent upon removing such evidence of trouble as might be found disturbingly near their tower.

There was nothing at all along the trail to show that a fight had taken place. Where the gra.s.s and shrubbery began in the clearing below the walls, there was one mere tuft of hair upon a twig. But a rod removed from this there was at least a hint as to what might have caused the engagement.

This was a trampled and slightly reddened ring where something had been eaten--some quarry doubtless captured by the smaller of the prowlers, who had found himself suddenly attacked and driven from the feast by the master hunter of the jungle, on whose sacred preserves he had probably dared to poach.

Grenville proceeded to the spring, not only to fetch a fresh supply of water, but as well to indulge in a vigorous washing of his hands and face, and to make some observations.

He found that by breaking several limbs a none too comfortable seat in the branches of a rubber tree might be prepared, provided he could climb to the perch. With a very long fuse attached to his bomb he might be enabled to execute a coup upon the tiger, under cover of the night. Could he only slay some animal--another wild hog, for instance--and place it here as a lure, his chances of securing the tiger's attendance would be infinitely increased.

A number of things were essential to his plan. The first, a rope ladder, was the simplest of the lot. That he could fashion with ease.

His greatest problem was the fire with which to ignite his fuse, should he wish to explode his bomb. The wood he had found, that so amazingly retained its glow, might answer his needs for, perhaps, two hours, as he sat high up in the tree. It was all he possessed, and upon it he must needs rely. But how he should manage to discern his beast, in the darkness, when the prowler came at last to drink, was more than he could determine.

"A dead-fall might do for the brute," he soliloquized aloud, as the business revolved in his mind. "But I couldn't get one ready by to-night."

For several reasons a dead-fall was impracticable. The thought was, therefore, abandoned, while the details of loading and placing the bomb were elaborately planned. So vivid was Grenville's imagination that already he pictured himself high in the tree, heard the tiger come to lap the water, lighted his fuse--and ended that trouble forever.

CHAPTER XIV

TRUANTS OUT OF SCHOOL

He returned to the terrace, lightly whistling. The morning was perfect, a delightfully refreshing zephyr lightly stirring in the trees. Elaine beheld him approaching, and nodded from the cliff.

"The jugs look beautiful!" she called, enthusiastically. "The fire is barely warm."

He had brought their supply of water in the sea-sh.e.l.l, so variously employed. Before providing fruits for their breakfast, he went to his furnace with Elaine. The firing was complete, though the vessels were not yet cool. A few were cracked, slightly, despite the care that Grenville had exercised, and one was hopelessly ruined. However, he felt the product as a whole was surprisingly satisfactory, especially some of his molds and the crucibles meant for his foundry.

"At noon we'll fill a jug with water," he said, "and you'll find it will keep surprisingly cool. The clay is slightly porous. The water oozes through, evaporates on the surface, and thereby chills the contents. They use nothing else in Egypt, and, I think, in Mexico.

"If it weren't for the tiger," said Elaine, "I could often go to the spring."

"Right ho!" said Grenville, cheerily, believing he understood a wish that lay beneath her speech. "That reminds me. I believe I could manage to deepen a basin I saw in the rock on our lowermost shelf above the sea, back yonder, and easily fill it by dipping salt water with a jug on the end of a rope. Any nymph should enjoy such a pool."

"Oh!" said Elaine, delighted by the thought; "do you really think you could make it?"

"Well--I've thought of it, you see, on an empty stomach. After breakfast---- There's quite a bit to do, by the way, after breakfast."

With the fruits now presently gathered, he brought a fresh supply of creepers and leaves of the sisal, for labors soon to begin. And while Elaine prepared what was left of the meat, and the other things afforded by their larder, he went to the shelf of rock so completely protected by its wall, and made up his mind that, with one good tool, plus a hammer, he could hew out a bath with amazingly little trouble.

"Meant to go fishing this morning!" he confessed, as the sight of the clear, limpid tide below aroused new desires in his being. "There must be oysters and many good fish, if I had the time to get them."

Fish-lines and other "diversions" were again postponed when the breakfast was concluded, while Grenville braided fibers and tied stout rungs along their length, to form a rude sort of ladder. This he carried to the spring at length, and hung across the limb of his tree by lifting its end on a pole.

Once in the tree, he labored diligently, breaking or cutting away a number of interfering branches, and arranging a makeshift for a seat, on which to rest as he waited. The bomb would be better prepared in the afternoon.

On his way, returning to the camp, he gathered a bundle of the special wood that he used to retain his fire. It was while he was thus engaged, in an unexplored part of the thicket, that he came upon a fallen tree, fairly brittle with resin. He snapped off branch after branch of this, till his load was too heavy to carry. With all he could take he climbed the trail.

A piece that he tried at the embers of his fire blazed promptly enough, producing a volume of thick, black smoke, and a flame that burned slowly down the wood, as he held the lighted end aloft.

"If we happen to need a torch," he said to Elaine, who, as usual, was watching results, "this will always be stored here, ready." He placed the f.a.gots in a near-by hollow of the rocks, against possible future need.

There was nothing further to be done at the spring until the hour of sunset. The jugs and vessels from the furnace were found to be sufficiently cool for handling, and were brought to the rear of his shelter.

The molds he had made excited anew his various ambitions.

"To-morrow I shall start operations on the smelter," he told his companion. "No tools means no boat--and no boat means no escape."

Elaine felt a bound of excitement in her veins at the mere suggestion of escape. She inquired: "How long will it take to build your boat?"

"Can't tell," said Grenville, briefly. "Never built one on a toolless island before."

"I only meant about how long," Elaine explained. "It will take at least a week, I suppose."

"More likely two," he answered, as before. "Meantime I'm going fishing. Want to come?"

Elaine had little liking for any such off-hand invitation.

"Not at present, thank you." She turned away from him, coldly.

"It's an art and a sport you ought to cultivate," he informed her, cheerfully. "Might sometime keep you from starving." He gathered up the necessary paraphernalia, adding, "I hope the fish will bite," and started on his way.

He had fully two hundred feet of the line he had braided from fibers.

It was thoroughly "waxed" with juices from the rubber tree, and although it was frequently knotted along its length, it was strong as a wire, and not inclined to kink.

His wooden hook was clumsy, but tough as steel, while its point and its barb were exceedingly sharp. Also, the bait he thrust upon it concealed it well, except where the line was stoutly attached. With one of his old rusted hinges for a sinker, it was presently ready for use.

He had chosen that protected shelf of rock whereon he meant to hew out a bath for Elaine, since this was the nearest possible approach he could make to the water from the cliff. There, alas! at the very first cast attempted, his line was atrociously tangled, while the hook remained suspended some ten feet up from the tide.

In patience he sat himself down on the ledge to restore the line to order. Elaine, who had doubtless pondered wisely on his observation, anent fishing as an art to be acquired, came half reluctantly wandering over to his side, while Grenville was still engrossed with his mess of tangles. She watched him in silence for a time, then, finally, sank to the bench of rock and began to lend her a.s.sistance. He made not the slightest comment, and even failed to thank her when the task was finally concluded.

Once again, at last, he swung the line for a cast far out in the waters. It seemed to Elaine the hook and sinker would never cease sailing outward. Yet they fell and sank, much closer in than even Grenville had expected.

He began to pull it back at once, since there might be rocks on which the hook would foul, and his labor be wholly lost. The sinker, and then the bait, emerged from the crystal depths of brine without so much as a nibble. Again Grenville sent them full length out, and again drew in with no results, save a possible inquiry, far below, where he fancied he saw a gleam of silver.

The third cast fared no better than the others. But the fourth was no more than started homeward when a sharp, heavy strike was briskly reported on the line, and Grenville's jerk responded.