Guy in the Jungle Part 22

They ate sparingly of crackers and dates, for Guy had a.s.sumed charge of the commissary department and dispensed supplies with no liberal hand, the wisdom of which was readily acknowledged by all.

The torch had been stuck end up in the sand, and its cheerful glow threw a radiance over all the little island and caused the silvery white sand to sparkle brilliantly.

They stretched themselves out on the rugs near the center of the island, and as soon as they were arranged comfortably Guy rigorously extinguished the torch and hunted his place in the darkness.

No thought of fear entered their mind. On all sides was the deep and rapid river. Whence could an enemy come? In five minutes not a man was awake. Even Sir Arthur was snoring profoundly, dreaming perhaps of the snug quarters in the residence at Zaila, from which he had been so rudely ousted a few short weeks before.

Guy was dreaming, too, but far different were the visions that coursed through his brain. For the twentieth time he was living over again his awful experiences of the previous year. Once more he was a prisoner in the rajah's fortress, and Nana Sahib's cannons were awaiting their victim on the ma.s.sive stone platform. Now he was being led out to die in the midst of his companions, the fiendish faces all about him, the Hindoos stood by the touch-holes with lighted torches. Now they were binding him, the gaping muzzle was pressing his back----

Then he woke and sat up, trembling from head to foot, the dank perspiration standing in beads on his forehead. Thank G.o.d it was only a dream. The rajah's fortress was thousands of miles away.

Suddenly a faint sound reached his ear, so indistinct that he could hardly be sure he heard anything at all. He listened a moment, but it was not repeated.

"Some of the fellows stirring in their sleep," he muttered, and giving the matter no further thought, he lay down again.

But as soon as his head touched the sand the sound was repeated, and this time it was more definable--a steady, rustling noise, with an occasional low splash that seemed to come from the water.

It was caused by none of his companions, for they all lay on his left, while the alarming noise seemed to come from the right.

Guy was a brave man, but in his nervous condition, resulting from the recent dream, this new alarm was too much, and he felt a cold chill run down his spine.

Giving Forbes, who was next him, a gentle shake, he drew himself to his feet, and taking a match from his pocket, rubbed it with a trembling hand across the front of his trousers.

It struck fire instantly, and as the sudden flare lit up the whole extent of the island the match dropped from Guy's nerveless fingers and he started back with a cry of horror that echoed horribly through the gloomy recesses of the cavern.

CHAPTER XXIII.

A WONDERFUL ESCAPE.

Guy had presence of mind enough to strike a second match and ignite the torch, which was fortunately within reach of his hand, and as his companions, roused from their sleep by his sharp cry of alarm, sprang excitedly to their feet, the flaming glare revealed to their astonished gaze a monstrous serpent coiled half on land, half in the water, at the edge of the island.

The flat, ugly head, with its wicked eyes, was darting angrily to and fro, and the body was as thick as a man's leg above the knee.

"Great Caesar, it's a sea-serpent!" cried Forbes, making a dash for his rifle, while Sir Arthur, with a dismal groan, dropped down on his knees and had to be dragged forcibly away by the colonel.

The glare of the torch seemed to anger the monster, for it advanced a yard or more up the island, and spattered the water furiously with its great tail.

A general rush was made for the canoes, and it would have been no difficult matter to have slipped quickly away and left the hideous monster in undisputed possession of the island.

Unluckily Forbes was bent on resistance. He seized his rifle, made sure that it was ready for use, and started forward just as Guy hurried to his a.s.sistance.

"Come away, Melton," he cried; "it will only make things worse if you wound it."

"But I don't intend to wound it," replied Melton. "I'm going to put a ball through that ugly head. Stand back, Chutney; stand back."

As he spoke he advanced recklessly until the muzzle of his rifle was within two feet of the serpent's head, and, taking a quick aim, pulled the trigger.

The stunning report shook the cavern; then, as Forbes turned to flee, the enraged monster, with blood streaming from a hole in his neck, threw his slimy coils forward in convulsions of agony, and, before the eyes of his horrified companions, Melton was pinned to the ground.

He struggled to his knees, fighting desperately to loosen the tightening coils, and uttering heartrending appeals for help.

Then, with a mighty hiss, the serpent flapped wildly toward the water, dragging his victim with him, and with a terrific splash and a resounding slap of the great tail on the moist sand, both disappeared in the gloom.

With a terrible cry Guy ran to the water's edge and shouted again and again.

No response came back. The black river flowed as smoothly and calmly as before.

"Lost! Lost!" he cried hoa.r.s.ely, and staggering backward he fell heavily on the sand.

The colonel ran to his a.s.sistance, and at that moment a single cry came distinctly from a point below the island.

"Listen!" exclaimed Canaris. "What is that?"

"Help! Help!" rang mournfully through the recesses of the cavern.

It was Melton's voice surely, and the familiar tones reached Guy's ears and brought him to his feet in an instant.

"It's Forbes!" he shouted wildly. "The canoe, quick," and s.n.a.t.c.hing the heavy craft, he fairly threw it into the river and sprang in.

Canaris leaped after him, and seizing paddles they drove the canoe swiftly toward the distant sound.

"We are coming, Melton; we are coming," cried Guy. "We'll save you yet."

In their haste the lighted torch had been left behind, but fortunately the Greek had matches, and in an instant another torch was lit and flaring cheerfully over the water.

"This way, Chutney," came a feeble voice below them. "Hurry up. I'm nearly exhausted."

A few rapid strokes of the paddle brought them within sight of a struggling object on the surface of the water, and as the canoe ran skilfully alongside, Guy dropped his paddle, and, leaning out, seized the drowning man by the collar. With almost superhuman strength he dragged him into the canoe without a.s.sistance.

"Thank G.o.d!" he cried, "he's safe. Speak to me, Forbes. Are you hurt?"

But Melton lay white and helpless in the bottom of the boat, too exhausted to reply.

"He's all right," said Canaris. "Don't make him talk. Take your paddle, Chutney. We'll have a struggle to make the island."

The Greek was right. Far above them shone the flickering torch, and the current was bearing them further away.

"I can't paddle and hold the torch at the same time," said Canaris. "We must be guided by the light on the island."

And they bent to the paddles with a will, shouting from time to time to encourage the colonel and Sir Arthur. It was even a harder task than they had feared--to force the canoe through that fierce rush of water.

And for a time it seemed as though they were losing instead of gaining.

But at last the distant light grew brighter, and soon their friends could be seen standing on the edge of the island.

Ten minutes' more labor brought the canoe to the small eddy behind the island, and then the colonel hauled it gently upon the sand. They climbed wearily out and bore Melton tenderly up the slope. His clothes were foul and slimy from the serpent's embrace, but he did not seem to be injured.