Mother Carey's Chicken Part 54

For, while they had been intent upon the man's account of his escape, Jack had been busy covering himself with feathers, as he plucked away at first one and then another of the birds.

"Ah! would you?" cried the major as Jack chattered fiercely upon the bird being taken from him, and then retreated behind Bruff.

"I'll carry those, sir," said Jimpny. "I'll take that too. Would you lend me a handkychy or a bit o' string, Mr Mark, sir, to tie their legs together, and then I can carry the lot over my shoulder, some before and some behind."

"Fore and aft," said Mark, taking a piece of fishing-line from his pocket.

"Yes, sir, that's it," said the man; "but I can't never recollect those sailors' words.

"That's your sort," he continued cheerfully, as the birds' legs were securely tied, and as he knelt on the sand he got them well over his shoulder, got up slowly by a great effort and essayed to start, then reeled, and recovered himself, reeled again, and fell headlong with his load.

He raised himself slowly to his knees, and looked pitifully from one to the other, and then at his load.

"I'm no good," he said in a whimpering tone. "I never was no good to n.o.body, and I never shall be."

"Bah! stuff!" cried the major. "Here, untie them, and tie two, two, and four together, Mark. I'll take four, and you a pair each."

"Let's make Bruff carry two," said Mark, as soon as the birds were freshly disposed, and hanging a pair pannier fashion over the dog's back, leaving thus a pair apiece, they started, after a vain attempt on the part of the stowaway to obtain permission to carry four.

Bruff protested at first, and seemed to consider it to be his duty to lie down and get rid of his load; then when it was replaced, with stern commands to him to carry it, he took upon himself to consider that it must be carried in his jaws, when Jack bounded to his side and began to pick out the feathers.

But after a little perseverance the teachable dog bore his load well enough, and the little party trudged back over the firm sand. They made a pause by the clear water for refreshment and then went on again, but only slowly, for the stowaway was very weak and the heat great, while it was piteous to see the brave effort he made to keep up with his load.

This at last was plainly too much for him, and he was relieved, Mark and the major taking it in turns.

But even then it was all the poor fellow could do to keep on walking, and the journey back proving longer than they had imagined, it was night and quite a couple of miles away when Jimpny broke down.

"I don't mind, gentlemen," he said; "I shall be so near the camp that I sha'n't mind."

"Near the camp!" cried the major; "why, we are nearly an hour's walk away."

"Yes, sir; but that can't matter now. I know that there's someone in the place and that my trouble's over, so I can lie down here in the soft sand and go to sleep till morning, and then I shall be able to come on."

"Here, Mark," said the major decisively, "pick out a comfortable spot somewhere. Here, this will do--by this point. We'll settle down here.

Leave the birds, my lad, and go on with the dog. Ask the captain to send three men to help us back into camp. I'll stay with Jimpny till they come."

"No, no, sir. I shouldn't like that," said the stowaway.

"Let me stay with him, sir," cried Mark; and after a great deal of arguing it was finally decided that Mark should stay, and selecting a hollow beneath some jutting ma.s.ses of rock where the sand lay thick, the stowaway was helped to his natural couch, the birds were thrown down, and after another brief argument, in which Mark declared he should feel far more nervous in going alone along the sh.o.r.e than in stopping, the major started off on his journey in search of help.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

HOW JACK DID NOT APPRECIATE A STORM.

The night was intensely dark, not one star shining, and before many minutes had elapsed after the major's steps had died away the face of Mark's companion was invisible, and he could not help a sensation of awe invading his breast as he felt how absolutely alone they were, and this made him realise more fully the feelings of the stowaway, wounded and faint, and believing himself entirely alone in that desert place.

But the darkness seemed to trouble no one else, for after saying a few words about its being a shame and that he could never forget it, Jimpny fell off at once into a deep sleep, his hard breathing telling its own tale; while Bruff and Jacko obtained a delicious couch by scratching away some of the dry sand and making pillows of the birds.

More and more, as he listened to the breathings of his companion, Mark began to suffer from the horror of thick darkness. For to quote the familiar old term he could not see his hand before his face. Out by the edge of the lagoon, where a slight ripple was phosph.o.r.escent, it might have been possible, but there, beneath the shadow of the rocks, nothing could be seen.

All was wonderfully still, not so much as a whisper could be heard of night bird or animal astir. Once he thought he heard a querulous cry far out on the shallow sea-washed sh.o.r.e such as a wading bird might make, but it was not repeated, and at last he found himself listening, with his heart beginning to beat heavily, for the terrible roaring sound, and the more he tried not to think about it the more the thoughts would come, till at last he felt sure that he could hear something moving in the jungle. Then again all was still, and though he had been in momentary expectation of hearing the awe-inspiring roar, it did not come, and he grew a little more calm, telling himself that he had nothing to fear, and wondering why he could not lie down and rest there as peacefully as the animals by his side, who were sleeping happily enough and troubling themselves not in the least about darkness or danger.

All at once, after wondering how long it would be before the party came from camp, and making up his mind to be very watchful so that they should not pa.s.s him in the darkness, there was a vivid light, which showed the sand, the glistening sea, and the distant line of breakers quite plainly, followed at the distance of time of quite a minute by a low muttering roar which seemed to make the air quiver and the earth shake.

Then all was black again for a time, during which, with the sensation of drowsiness which had been slowly coming on completely driven away, Mark sat and watched for the next flash of lightning, and before long it came, displaying the shapes of the clouds which overhung the sea.

It was worth watching, for anything more grand could not be conceived.

One moment everything was of a velvety blackness, then in an instant came the flash, the sky seemed to be opened to display the glories beyond of golden mountain, vivid blue sea, and lambent yellow plain. In the twinkling of an eye the sky closed again, and the darkness was more dense than before, while, as Mark sat thinking of the wonderful contrast between lying in his bed at home in North London and being there, once more came the deep, booming, heavy, metallic thunder.

Again a pause, with the three sleepers breathing regularly. Mark was weary, his legs and back ached, and there was a suggestion of a blister on one heel; but he felt no inclination now to sleep, and lay there upon his chest listening for the dull sound of footsteps on the sand in company with the murmur of voices.

Who would come? he asked himself. Mr Gregory and two men, or Small?

He came to the conclusion that it would be Small, and at times he almost fancied that he heard the distant murmur of the boatswain's deep rough voice.

Then came another flash more vivid than ever. And this time it was as he turned in the direction where Jimpny lay sleeping. The result was that he saw the poor fellow's swarthy panic-stricken countenance, and the dog and the monkey snuggled up together as comfortably as they could make themselves; and they did not even start as a tremendous peal of thunder broke, seeming as if it would shake the rocks down above their heads.

Then all was pitchy blackness again, and the silence by contrast was awful.

Another flash, and while it was quivering in the air the thunder came with one sudden instantaneous crash as if some magazine of powder had been exploded, while after the first burst the peal rolled round and round and slowly died away, as if it were pa.s.sing along vast metallic corridors to be emptied far away in s.p.a.ce.

As Mark sat listening to the dying away of the thunder and watching for the next flash, comparing the noise with that which he heard from the jungle, and wondering why the one should be looked upon as a matter of course while the other caused the most acute horror, he became aware of a strange hissing sound, apparently at a great distance, but evidently coming on rapidly. The sound increased till, from a hiss it became a rush, then by rapid degrees a tremendous roar, and then, as if in an instant the hurricane was upon them, the rain came down in sheets, the sound swept by the rocks, and as the lightning flashed Mark became aware of the fact that the air looked thick and dense and as if filled by the spray from off the sea.

But the storm swept over from behind, so that though the water poured down from all round the rock beneath which they were sheltered none was driven in.

To sleep was out of the question had the watcher felt disposed, for he was bound to confess that it was impossible for help to come to him in the midst of such a terrific deluge. Meanwhile as the rain came down in a veritable water-spout, hissing angrily as if a myriad of serpents were in the air, the lightning flashed and the thunder roared so incessantly that it became almost a continual peal.

At the best of times, and in company, the storm would have been attended by feelings of awe; but now, comparatively speaking, alone in that solitude with the deafening din and the terrible weird glare of the lightning flashing through the rain, Mark could not help for the second time that day a strange feeling of dread come upon him with chilling force.

Just when the storm was at its worst there was a soft whining sound on his right, and as he sat up and listened in that direction a cold nose touched his hand, and Bruff thrust his head into his master's lap, uttering a low snuffling sound indicative of content.

Almost at the same moment, as the thunder paused for a moment, came a whimpering chattering from his left, and a little thin hand caught hold of him.

"Why, Jack, old fellow, frightened?" he said, as he pa.s.sed his arm round the human-looking little animal.

"Chick, chack!" cried Jack, and accepting the invitation he huddled up close to Mark's breast, tucking his nose under his arm, and directly after the lad could feel that both the thin little arms were clinging to him tightly.

"No wonder I feel a bit afraid," he said to himself, "if they wake up and come to me for protection."

And with something of a warm glow at his heart as he felt himself occupying the position of protector, he sat there waiting for the storm to cease, the danger dying out of his mind, his head drooping down upon his chest, and at last Mark and his two strange bed-fellows were fast asleep, with the thunder roaring to them its deep-toned lullaby till it slowly died away.

Bruff was the first to wake and begin barking loudly, for Mark to start up in wonder, perfectly ignorant of where he was. It was as dark as ever, but the rain had ceased, the lightning merely flashed now and then, and there was a delicious sensation of cool freshness in the air which came most gratefully to the senses.

"Where am I?" thought Mark, "and what does this mean?" for he had been awakened by the dog's barking from one of those heavy dreamless sleeps where the mind refuses to open and take in facts as quickly as do the eyes.

The dog barked again more loudly than ever and now rushed from out of the shelving rocks.

"Mark, ahoy! Where are you, lad?"