Mother Carey's Chicken Part 72

Mark raised himself upon his arm and looked at his companion, who was dimly-seen in the starlight.

"Why, Billy, what's the matter?" he said. "Sleeping uneasy?"

"Easy it is, sir. Eh? Sleep. No, Mr Mark, sir. What say?--sleep, sir. No; wide-awake as you are, sir."

"That's right," said Mark, gazing out once more at the softly glowing stars. The crescent moon had gone down in a bed of clouds, and all around the darkness seemed to grow deeper and softer, till it was as if it could be touched, and everything was wonderfully still, save when there came from the distance a sharp whistling that might have been from a bird, but was more probably escaping steam.

Now and then Mark could see strange lights glowing, and then feel a tremulous motion such as would be felt at home when a vehicle was pa.s.sing the house, and as if this might be thunder, it was generally after he had noticed a flashing light playing over the trees, sometimes bright enough to reveal their shapes, but as a rule so faint as to be hardly seen.

He thought about his father going back wearied out with a long search.

Then he wondered whether he had gone back, and at last the idea struck him as strange that the party had not fired a gun at intervals to attract their attention.

He had just arrived at this point, and was considering whether a light he saw was a luminous fungus, when a strange noise saluted his ear, a sound that for the moment he supposed to have come from the forest.

Then it seemed to be in the cave, and he was about to spring up, when he realised that the noise was made by Billy Widgeon, who was too tired to let his nervous and superst.i.tious dread trouble him any more, and was now sleeping as heavily as if he were in his bunk on board the _Petrel_.

Mark felt a curious sensation of irritation against a man who could go off to sleep so calmly at a time like this, but the man's words came to mind about his father and mother, and at last Mark was fain to say to himself, "If the poor fellow can sleep why shouldn't he?"

For his own part he had quite come to the determination that he would get what rest he could as he lay awake watching, for he knew that, anxious as he was, it would be impossible to sleep. Besides, he wanted to listen for the possibility of a signal being made. A gun fired would, he knew, be heard an enormous distance, and it would give him an idea of the direction in which the camp lay.

All this while Billy Widgeon lay snoring loudly, but by degrees, as Mark watched the stars that seemed to float over the jungle, the heavy breathing became less heavy, and by slow degrees softer and softer till it quite died away, and all was perfectly still to Mark Strong as he lay watching there.

But it was only in imagination that he watched, for nature had played a trick upon the lad, and in spite of his determination to keep awake, in spite of his anxiety, had poured her drowsy medicine upon his eyes.

For Mark had fallen into as deep a sleep as his companion.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

HOW THE ROARING SPOT WAS FOUND.

Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha!

Wauck! Wauck! Wauck!

There was a loud rustling of palm leaves, and Mark Strong and Billy Widgeon sprang to their feet and stared at one another as the warm glow that precedes sunrise penetrated the cave and lit up their faces.

"What was that?"

"I don't know. Did somebody call?"

"I--I thought I heered them things again," said Billy in a whisper.

"Why, Mr Mark, sir, you've been asleep!"

"I'm afraid I have. Have you?"

"Dunno, sir. Well, I suppose I have. I feel like it. But I didn't mean to, sir."

"Neither did I mean to," said Mark. "I wonder I did go. How chilly it is!"

"Yes, sir, like one feels in the early watches. Why, it's quite to-morrow morning!"

"Or this morning, Billy."

"Yes, sir, that's what I mean. Now, then, what's the first thing, Mr Mark, sir? What do you say to finding a c.o.ky-nut tree? I'll swarm up and get the nuts."

"Let's start at once, and try to get to camp. That will be better than cocoa-nuts. Now, then, the sun is rising on our right; then it seems to me if we keep it there, upon our right, and walk as straight as we can, we shall hit the sh.o.r.e somewhere near our camp."

"Then you won't look for the Gutty Perchy Road, sir?"

"No, no; they would not have stayed there. We will try and get through the jungle--we must get through it, Billy, so come along."

"Shall I go first, sir?" said the little sailor.

"No, I'll go first. I wish we had lights to look a little further into this hole. Why, Billy, the floor's lava!"

"Yes, sir, I thought it was."

"You thought it was what?" cried Mark, staring.

"What you said, sir."

"Never mind, come along," said Mark; and he went to the edge of the cave and stood looking out like a pigeon in one of the holes of a dove-cot preparing to take flight.

"See anything, sir?"

"Trees, rocks, sky; nothing more," said Mark; "but the sea must be straight before us, and it cannot be many miles away."

He turned and began to climb down backwards, and reached the level at the bottom of the steep scarp, when, looking up, he could not help smiling at the great care Billy displayed in descending, for he lowered his short legs over the edge as he held on and began feeling about in a most absurdly comical manner for the nearest projection which he could touch.

He was in this position, about fifteen feet above the spot where Mark waited, when, with a noise that was almost deafening, the frightful roar which had startled the whole party burst out from just inside the cave where they had slept.

The sound was so awful in its intensity that Mark shuddered as he stood there almost petrified, while at the first burst poor Billy Widgeon loosed his hold and dropped down shrunken up together as if he were trying to emulate the manner of a hedgehog, and as he fell, he just touched the ground, sprang up, and began to run.

"Mr Mark, sir, run--run, my lad, run!"

To his credit, be it said, that he stopped short and waited for Mark to come up, terrified as he was, and then sent him on first, while he covered him from behind.

Neither spoke for some time, but, regardless of direction, ran where they could, but oftener walked, or even crept, through the dense forest, always with the sensation that the huge beast that had uttered that frightful roar was crashing through the trees on their track.

By degrees though they recovered their confidence somewhat, gradually realising that there was no sound behind them, and at last they paused panting and exhausted to wipe the perspiration from their brows, and listen.

"Hear it coming, Mr Mark, sir?"

"No," said Mark after a few moments, "I can hear nothing."

"Jim-a-ny!" panted Billy, "think of us a-going to sleep in his hole.

Oh, Mr Mark, sir, what an awful beast! I thought he'd ha' had me. I was that scared I couldn't let go for a moment."