Jack at Sea Part 79

It was the best way of approaching success, as Jack saw, and whispering that he would do as his companion suggested, he sat there watching Ned's movements as he crept away up the slope and disappeared. Then fitting an arrow to the bowstring, after laying his spear ready by his side, he rested the bow across his knees, and sat on his mossy stone, watching the movements of the little herd, and expecting, moment by moment, to see one of the watchful elders take alarm, give warning, and the whole party dash back up the gully.

But they kept rooting and hunting about, evidently for some kind of fruit which fell from the trees, and Jack felt as if he were far back in the past, a hunter on that beautiful, wild mountain slope, dependent upon his bow for his existence. The sun poured down its hot rays, making the leaves glisten like metal, and the air was so clear that the pigs' eyes and every movement were as plain as if close at hand.

"Seems treacherous lying in wait like this," he thought. "Poor wretches! they all look as playful and contented as can be."

But he knew that he and Ned must eat if they were ever to escape from that mountain, and the sentiment of pity died out as the time went on.

The pigs were slow in coming down, for under the trees at the other side of the gully the fruit they sought seemed to be plentiful, and he could see the younger ones hunting one another as a lucky find was made, this resulting in a good deal of squealing, while above it the deep grunts of the elders were plainly heard.

But there was no sight of Ned, and half-an-hour must have pa.s.sed, with the pigs still out of reach for a good shot.

"If they do come this way," thought the lad, "I can't study about picking one; I must shoot into the thickest part and chance it. But where is Ned? Why don't he show?"

At last there was the appearance far up of a large pig coming down toward the herd, but the next moment, as it glided among the leaves, Jack saw that it was a pig with clothes on, and that it carried a bow and arrow.

The time had come for a shot, and softly and slowly the lad edged himself back till he could drop on his knees behind the stone, rest the bow upon it horizontally, and wait for the critical moment to draw and launch his arrow.

He could watch Ned the while as well as the herd, and by slow degrees he saw his companion creep from tree-trunk to tree-trunk, slowly diminishing the distance, while, having probably cleared off the fallen fruit, the herd broke into a trot as if to pa.s.s within twenty yards of where he waited.

But the next minute they had stopped fifty yards away, and Ned had soon reduced his distance till he was about as much above them. Then all at once he disappeared.

The minutes seemed to be terribly long drawn out now, but the herd came lower and lower, till fully half of them were rambling about just in front; and feeling that he would never have a better chance, the lad singled out one half-grown fellow in the midst of three more, all feeding, and he held up his hand for a moment or two in the hope that Ned might see it, though where he hid it was impossible to say.

Slight as was the movement of the raised hand it was seen, for the biggest pig, a rough, bristly-necked animal, suddenly raised its head and gazed sharply, with eyes that looked fiery in the brilliant sunshine, straight in his direction.

_Tw.a.n.g! tw.a.n.g_! went two bowstrings, the arrows whizzed through the air, and in the midst of a rush, away tore the herd down the valley, just as Ned leaped up, made a bound or two, and plunged his spear down amidst the bushes.

Jack dropped his bow, caught up his own spear, and dashed forward to help finish the wounded pigs, and Ned was up before him, panting and dripping with perspiration.

"Got one?" cried Jack.

"Got one!" cried Ned bitterly. "Course we ain't. Just like my luck."

"Oh!" groaned Jack, as a pang of hunger shot through him.

"I never saw such arrows," cried Ned pa.s.sionately. "I could smash the lot. They don't go straight."

"Is it any use to follow them?" said Jack.

"No, sir; it ain't," cried the man angrily. "And what's more, you know it ain't. What's the good of aggravating a poor fellow? And," he added pathetically, "I did mean to have such a roast."

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

IN THE FACE OF PERIL.

"Come on," said Jack, after they had stood listening for a few minutes, and gazing in the direction taken by the pigs. "Is it any use looking for the arrows?"

"Not a bit, sir. Here, only let me find one lying asleep in the mud somewhere. I dare say there's, dozens doing it now, with their eyes shut, and their curly tails pretending to whisk away the flies. Come on, sir, we must keep going, hot as it is. Never mind, we shall do it yet, but next time I'm not going to trust to bows and arrows. You shall hunt them down to where I'm hiding, and I'll skewer one somehow or another."

But in the next two hours' weary struggle among trees, rocks, and waving creepers they only heard pigs once, and then it was as they dashed off unseen, grunting and squealing wildly. Birds were scarcer and very small, while they felt no temptation to try the esculent qualities of the lizards they saw glancing about over the hot lava, or of the snakes which hurriedly crawled away.

They were successful though in finding a trickling stream of pure cold water, and a tree bearing a kind of fruit something like a poor, small apricot with a very large stone. It was bitter and sour, but it did, as Ned said, to clean your teeth.

Three more arrows were lost in shooting at birds, but without success, and Ned shook his head.

"I don't know how it is with you, sir," he said, "but my arm has had such a long rest that the muscles now seem to be too strong, and they must have jerked the bow just when I let go the string."

"I can soon tell you how it is with me, Ned," said Jack. "I never could use a bow and arrow, so of course I can't now."

They struggled on, growing less cautious in their eagerness to get down to the sh.o.r.e.

"Shall get some cocoanuts there, if we can't get anything else, sir,"

said Ned; "but I do hope it will be somewhere near the yacht."

"But how are we to signal them if we don't get there before dark?"

"Light a fire on the sands, sir. Oh, don't you be afraid of that. It's the getting there is the difficulty."

It was growing well on in the afternoon when this was said, and, so weak and exhausted that they could hardly struggle on, they welcomed an open slope covered with some creeping kind of plant, as it seemed, for it offered the prospect of getting along better for a couple of hundred yards. Here, too, they could see down a ravine to the reef, which seemed to be wonderfully close at hand, though they knew that they had miles to struggle over before they could reach the sands--and such miles.

"Let's make for that valley, Ned, and try to go down there."

"Very well, sir; just which way you like. Seems all the same; but let's get close up to the trees, though it's furthest, for we may find some kind of fruit. What a country! Not so much as an apple, let alone a pear, or--Mr Jack, sir! Oh!"

"What is it?" cried Jack, startled by his companion's excitement. "What have you found?"

For Ned had thrown himself upon his knees, and with one end of the bow was tearing away at the straggling plants which covered the ground wherever it was not rocky or smothered by bush.

"Can't you see, sir? Here, come and help. _'Taters_!"

"What?" cried Jack.

"Yes, 'taters, sir; only little 'uns. Not so big as noo potaties at home, but 'taters they are. Look!"

"Fingers were made before forks," says the old proverb, so under the circ.u.mstances it was not surprising that Ned began to use his hands as if they were gardener's potato forks, and with such success that in a short time quite a little heap of the yellow tubers were dug out of the loose sandy soil, the average size being that of walnuts.

Jack set to work at once to help, but he had hardly dragged away a couple of handfuls of haulm when he started up with a cry of alarm.

Ned leaped up too and seized his spear, expecting to have to face the blacks; but the enemy was a good-sized snake which had been nestling beneath the thick stalks of the plants, and now stood up fully three feet above the tops of the growth, with head drawn back, moving to and fro as if about to launch itself forward and strike at the first who approached it.

"Stand back, Mr Jack," cried the man, and with one mower-like sweep of his spear-handle he caught the serpent a few inches below its threatening head, and it dropped writhing at once, with its vertebras broken.

"Can't stand any nonsense from things like that, sir," cried Ned, as he took his spear now as if it had been a pitchfork, raised the twining reptile from among the haulms, and after carrying it a few yards, threw it cleverly right away among the bushes at the side.

"Take care, perhaps there are more," said Jack. "So much the worse for them if there are, sir. I want the 'taters, and I'd have 'em if the place was full of boa-constrictors as big as they grow. Come on."

In a very short time they had their pockets and handkerchiefs full, the tubers coming out of the hot, dry, sandy soil perfectly clean; and thus furnished, they made for a spot where the lava rock was piled up, selected a niche, and sc.r.a.ped out a sandy hollow about a couple of feet across, laid the potatoes down singly and close together, covered them again with the sand, and then turned to the edge of the nearest patch of trees to gather dead boughs, leaves, everything they could which seemed likely to burn, and carried it to their improvised oven.