Fire Mountain Part 35

Martin wasted no glance on the cook. He watched with interest the j.a.ps. The burdens they bore were to aid in the exploration of the caves, he knew. At the sight of the lanterns, a dim plan for future action germinated in his mind.

The two j.a.ps reached the spot where Ichi and Asoki stood waiting. They handed their loads over the rail to the waiting hands below. Then they followed, by way of a Jacob's ladder.

Charley Bo Yip approached, bound for the cabin entrance. He pa.s.sed close behind Martin, almost brushing against Martin's handcuffed hands.

He stepped on into the alleyway without slackening his stride, but Martin marked the silent pa.s.sage with a suddenly thumping heart--for Yip had pressed a piece of paper into one of his manacled hands. Ichi turned to him and motioned--

"Come, we are of readiness, Mr. Blake!"

Martin twisted his hand around and thrust the paper into his hip pocket. Then he stepped forward to the rail.

A couple of moments later, Martin sat in the stern-sheets of a whaleboat. He was much shaken and somewhat bruised from his attempt to negotiate a Jacob's ladder with his hands behind him, but his swift descent had not dimmed his mind. His first thought, even as he clambered over the brig's rail, was to count the men in the sh.o.r.e party. His fall hardly interrupted him.

There were four men at the oars, he saw. And beside him stood Moto, manning the steering oar. On the opposite gunwale perched Ichi. Six of them!

"That will leave nine of them aboard," ran Martin's mind. "Ichi said only three were killed last night. They would be Rimoa and Oomak and MacLean. Then there are eight forecastle hands, and Chips, and the bosun, down below. Numbers are even, more than even! But odds! Oh, if only a couple of those rifles were in the bosun's hands! If only Ichi would take them ash.o.r.e!"

Martin searched the boat with his eyes, but no firearms were visible.

If the boatswain and the lads reached the deck, they would have those armed watchers to reckon with. Hopeless!

At a sharp order from the steersman, the four oarsmen gave way smartly, and the boat left the ship's side, headed beachward. It was not one of the _Coha.s.set's_ boats, Martin noted. The dingey, in which Little Billy had sounded to anchorage yesterday, still rode to its painter under the counter. The rest of their own boats were still snug on the skids. The whale-boat was Carew's boat in which he had boarded them.

Little Billy! The sight of the dingey brought the hunchback into Martin's racing thoughts. Where was Little Billy? The paper Yip had slipped him, fairly burned in his pocket. But, of course, he dare not attempt to read it here in the midst of his enemies. For he had not the slightest doubt the paper was a note written by Little Billy, and conveyed by Yip's friendly hand.

Good old Yip! Martin felt shame of his recent low estimate of the Chinaman. Yip was fooling the j.a.ps--perhaps coached by the safely hidden hunchback!

Martin's hopes leaped again. Why, thought he, with Little Billy's fertile mind on the job, and Yip free and friendly, their chance of success in an outbreak was greatly increased. Likely enough Little Billy was in communication with the men in the hold. A well-timed surprise might overcome the terrible handicap of the guns. If he only knew what that paper in his pocket contained! Well, perhaps he would know soon, if things went right.

Ichi's right side was toward him. Martin carefully noted the revolver-b.u.t.t peeping from the coat-pocket. That revolver occupied an important place in the plan that was forming in Martin's mind. He carefully scanned the other occupants of the boat. So far as he could see their only weapons were sheath-knives.

The tide was ebbing swiftly and the _Coha.s.set_ tugged at her cable, bow on to the beach. The breach between the ship and the whale-boat widened; the panoramic view of the mountain and the little bay interrupted Martin's thoughts. He twisted about in his seat, and sent his gaze about the cove in an encircling sweep, thus gaining his first clear idea of the actual geography of the place.

Nature had formed the bay, he saw, by pinching a small chunk out of the huge cone of the volcano. The bay was a watery wedge cutting into the mountain to a depth of about twelve hundred yards, a half-mile wide at the entrance, and narrowing down to a bare half hundred yards of narrow beach at the point of the wedge.

The _Coha.s.set_ was anch.o.r.ed about five hundred yards from the beach, and at a like distance on either side of her the flanking cliffs rose sheer from the water. The waters of the bay were quiet, but, at the mouth, Martin saw the seas beating fiercely upon the girdling reef, smashing thunderously upon jutting, jagged rocks, and sending the white spray cascading into the sunshine. But he searched in vain for signs of a wreck. He interrupted Ichi's reverie with a question.

"Where did the _Dawn_ strike?"

To his surprise, the j.a.panese answered promptly.

"On the opposite side of the island--on the reef. Ah, that was a happening of much terribleness, Mr. Blake. It was night and fog--the same utterly darkness that was of such disaster to you honorable gentlemen last night. Honorable Carew did not suspect the nearness of land. The rock pierced our bottom and we sank with immediateness.

Ah--it was of much sadness! We saved not food or clothes and but half our number. We rowed away.

"After while, there came to us a morning of much niceness, like the present one, and we found that the schooner had been altogether taken, as honorable Carew remarked by one G.o.d of the sea, named David Jones.

So we rowed around the volcano and came in this bay, and I knew the place from the memory I had of hearing the reading, so long ago, in Honolulu.

"Ah, but the days we spent here before the worthy _Coha.s.set_ was sighted were days of much badness! We thought you had come and departed, for we did not find the ambergris. We thought we would all have to go out from hunger and exposure. We thought it would be of much sadness to go out in this place of blackness; the spirits of our honorable ancestors would regard us with much unkindness if we came from this evil place." The man suddenly leered upon Martin. "How would you like to go out in this place of bleakness? Ah--what a sadness!"

He turned and stared at the fantastic, brooding face of the rapidly nearing rock.

"I will with frankness say I do not like this place," he concluded. "I shall be of gladness when I see the last of that smoke, up there, and feel no more the shakes of awfulness."

They were within a few yards of the beach. Martin stared upward. The mountain tapered steeply to the crater thousands of feet above him.

The yellow-brown smoke poured upward lazily, and he was sensible, as on the day before, of an acrid, unpleasant taste in the air. Also, as when he had obtained his first fog-obscured view of the mountain from the topgallantyard, he felt oppressed as he looked at that desolate wilderness of crazily jumbled rock towering above him; the sunlight, which sparkled upon the water, failed to brighten the mountain's somber tone, and the nightmare architecture looming above him shivered him with dread.

The openings of numberless caves gaped blackly, like blind eyes. The myriad-voiced screeching of the sea-birds added to the bleakness of the aspect. As Moto swept the boat through the gentle surf that laved the little beach, the Fire Mountain was invested, in Martin's excited mind, with personality, with a malignant, evil personality.

In truth, Martin looked upon himself as doomed. "How would you like to go out?" Ichi had queried; and his manner had made the question a promise. Well, he would try not to go out alone. His work was cut out for him, and it was desperate work. There was slim chance, he knew, of surviving the execution of his plan, but he contemplated his probable death with the high courage of self-sacrifice.

His life, he felt, was a small price to pay for the recovery of the ship and the freeing of his sweetheart. For he was convinced that the boatswain's success was dependent upon his keeping these six j.a.ps on sh.o.r.e. He felt sure his comrades, warned by Yip and Little Billy, would seize the opportunity presented by Carew's divided forces. He meant to fight to keep the j.a.ps separated.

As the boat grounded, and he stood up to leap ash.o.r.e, he wriggled his wrists in the cuffs, making sure he could free himself with a jerk. He might die, but he vowed he would take some of these yellow devils with him on his pa.s.sage out.

Also, he reflected, it would make little difference to him, even if he remained docile. The issue would be the same. He was certain Ichi would murder him, so soon as the treasure was uncovered. He was certain Carew had commanded that very ending.

So, it was with a mind made up to grasp any desperate chance, with a courage utterly reckless, that Martin disembarked on the volcanic sand of Fire Mountain beach.

They had landed at one end of the beach. The first object Martin's curious eyes encountered was the "Elephant Head." John Winters'

directions ran in his mind--"south end beach, in elephant head." That curiously fashioned jutting rock was the elephant head; cleanly sculptured were the rounded head, slab ears, arched trunk, all gigantic. Beneath the rock-snout was a narrow slit about six feet high by half as wide. It was, Martin knew, the entrance the whaleman had written of.

But Martin had little time to inspect the beach. Ichi commanded dispatch. Martin noticed with surprise that as soon as Ichi touched foot on the sand, his accustomed phlegm was replaced by visible nervousness.

Ichi ordered, and the four sailors ran the boat up on the beach. Then, Moto leading the way, carrying the two lanterns, they all trooped toward the cave entrance.

Martin used his eyes as he walked. There were, he saw, many cave openings on a level with the beach. One in particular was a gaping cavern. Ichi, by his side, and talkative, indicated this place.

"Where we lived," he informed. "Very nasty place--damp, and of coldness. But our torches were poor, and driftwood of much scarceness, so we dare not investigate greatly the interior for better place. Our wood was all gone, and we feared muchly we must break up the boat, when Fate with so great a kindness sent the honorable Dabney to rescue us."

"A queer rescue, you murderous little wretch!" thought Martin. But aloud, he said, "What did you live on?"

They had fallen behind the others. Martin considered swiftly whether or not to fall upon his companion now. He was certain he could get the gun, and commence shooting, before the others a.s.sailed him. But he decided promptly that it would not do. They would witness the affair from the ship.

"Oh--we eat the gulls," replied Ichi. "And the sh.e.l.l-fish, and a seal that was dead--ah, he was long dead and of great nastiness! But mostly it was the sh.e.l.l-fish. See the many sh.e.l.ls on the sand?"

Martin looked. He gulped a swift, deep breath to keep from crying out, and stopped dead in his tracks. He stared into the yawning mouth of the cave Ichi was speaking about, his heart thumping furiously. Good Heaven! Had he seen a ghost? Was it a crazy trick of his overwrought mind? Or had he actually beheld, for a fraction of a second, a white face framed in the dense gloom of the cave's interior? But that face!

"Ah--but do not pause, my dear Mr. Blake," said Ichi with a hint of sarcasm. "It is of great interest, I know, but the view that awaits you as we seek the ambergris inside, is of much more interestness.

Come! See, our dear Moto has the lanterns lighted!"

Martin with difficulty maintained a disinterested expression. He recovered his stride, and they joined the others beneath the overhanging elephant rock. Moto and Ichi held for a moment a chattering interchange of their native speech.

Martin peered into this other opening, his agitated mind half-expecting to see the startling vision again, flashing white in the interior blackness. But beyond a few feet of sand floor and black lava walls, he saw nothing. The opening in the elephant head led into a narrow gallery, a hallway into the mountain.

A blast of hot, sulfur-tainted air swirled out of the opening. It made his eyes smart. Coincidentally, his ears were a.s.sailed by strange sound. It came out of the black hole, and it was like the wailing of souls in torment. It was a dolorous whistling that increased to a shrill screeching, then died away sobbingly.

Martin listened to that weird grief all a-p.r.i.c.kle with shivery sensations. It was unnerving.