The Black Bar Part 31

The position of the men would have been delightful if they had had a fair stock of provisions. For the cool water rippled by their boat, there was a refreshing breeze in the shady trees, and a pleasant sensation of dreamy repose and restfulness came over all as they lay about watching the dazzling sea and beautiful verdant tropic sh.o.r.e.

And as he gazed, Mark felt that undoubtedly fruit of some kind could be found sufficient to sustain life; and, with the determination to wait till another day, when the men would be better able to act, forgetful of the fact that fasting would make them more unfit, he thought of landing again directly after daylight, for a search, and then went to the boat and sat back to gaze out at sea.

"Mr Vandean, sir! Mr Vandean!"

"Eh? Yes! What's the matter?"

"Nothing sir, only I couldn't wake you up."

"Was I asleep?"

"Yes, sir; we've all been asleep, more shame for me to say so, and the lads have only just woke me up."

"Oh, it's horrible!" cried Mark; "how can I ever trust myself again?"

"Oh, don't you take on about that, sir: human natur's human natur.

Everybody's weak and queer with the knocking about we had, and the proper thing for us was to have a good snooze, and we've only been getting ready to do a good night's work."

Mark looked at Mr Russell, who lay breathing comfortably enough, and then, in a stern way, he gave orders for the boat to be unmoored, and Dance rose at once, seeming feeble, but quite in his right mind, and ready to resent an attempt on the part of Fillot to relieve him of the task. A good thrust was given to the boat out into the rushing stream, oars fell on either side, and the men began to row, so as to get out of the mouth of the river and begin making their way north.

But in a very few minutes Mark was enlightened as to the state of affairs. While they slept the tide had turned, and in place of a swift stream of fresh water running out, they were in the rapid tidal current running in, any doubt he might have had on the subject being set at rest by scooping up a little water with his hand, to taste it, and find it salt.

The men were pulling steadily, but with a feeble, slow stroke, which at first kept them about stationary. Then by slow degrees the boat gave a little and a little more, till in the waning light Mark saw a cl.u.s.ter of trees ash.o.r.e, by which they had been pa.s.sing, begin to glide the other way.

"Pull, my lads, pull!" he cried, and the men tugged again for a few minutes, and managed to keep abreast of the trees, but their strokes again grew more feeble, and, in spite of spurt after spurt, it was evident enough that the tide was too strong for men suffering from injuries, and famishing with hunger, nothing having pa.s.sed their lips save water for many hours.

"Here," cried Tom Fillot, "you don't half pull. Let me come. We'll soon get outside, where the current won't be so strong."

"It's o' no use, mate," said d.i.c.k Bannock. "She's too much for us. You can't do no good. After getting well, and a lot o' beef and biscuit, we might do it, but there's no pulling agin that 'ere."

"You don't half try," said Tom Fillot, sitting down and getting an oar over the side to add his strength, when all pulled again, working hard for quite half an hour, when Mark called to them to stop.

"Waste of strength, my lads," he said; "we've been drifting all the time."

"Yes, sir," said Tom Fillot. "I knowed it and was only waiting for you to speak. Most too dark to see, but I'm 'bout sure."

"We must let her go up with the tide, Tom, or else moor her again by the trees."

"Well, we should be brought back again, sir; but I think it would be best to make fast."

"Steadily, my lads," said Mark; "let's pull in sh.o.r.e with the tide till I see a good place."

"Or, feel it, sir," whispered Tom Fillot.

"Yes, or feel it, Tom," said Mark. "How dark it's getting. Easy--easy there; just dip so as to get nearer the sh.o.r.e. The current's so swift we may be capsized."

"Easy it is, sir," said Tom, and they rowed gently on with the current, getting nearer and nearer the sh.o.r.e with its heavy fringe of verdure, Mark watching eagerly in the gathering blackness for a big tree with overhanging boughs, but all in vain.

It was so dark now that they seemed to be gliding along right in the shadow, while more out towards the middle of what was evidently a broad river--the stream widening above the mouth--it was comparatively light, sufficiently so for them to see any object afloat.

"Can't you make anything we can hook on to, sir?" said Tom Fillot.

"No, my lad, not yet. But I shall directly. You be ready."

"Ready it is, sir. If I see a chance, shall I ketch hold?"

"_Hist_!"

"What's the matter, sir?"

"Talk lower. What's that? It may be enemies."

"Phew!" whistled Tom Fillot, softly. "It was behind me. I didn't see that. There, you have it."

He caught hold of the overhanging bough of a tree and brought the boat up as they both stood there watching a gleaming light at a little distance, which gradually was made out to be a lanthorn carried by someone here and there.

"Ash.o.r.e," whispered Mark.

"Afloat," said Tom. "It's somebody aboard ship. Hark at that!"

There was the rattle of a chain, apparently being let out through the hawse-holes of a vessel, then a little more rattling, followed by the disappearance of the light, and silence once more.

"What do you make of it, sir?" whispered Tom.

As he spoke there came a strange, plaintive, smothered sound, so full of agony that Mark shuddered.

"I can hardly tell," he said. "I thought at first it was the _Nautilus_."

"No, sir; people on board the _Naughtyla.s.s_ don't howl like that."

"Then--no: it can't be! Is it the slaver?" faltered Mark, as his heart beat rapidly with excitement.

"It's she or another on the cowardly beggars," whispered Tom Fillot, hoa.r.s.ely. "Don't make a sound, my lads."

"But oh, it can't be," cried Mark, trembling now with eagerness.

"Don't see why not, sir. She was bound to go into hiding a bit till our ship had gone, and she's crept in here to lie by, and sail perhaps when the tide turns."

"Take a turn with a rope round that branch, Tom," whispered Mark; "and not a sound."

"Trust me, sir, for that," was whispered back; and there was a little rustling heard as Mark carefully made his way in the darkness to where Tom Fillot stood.

"Sit down," whispered Mark. "I want all the men to hear. Lean this way, all of you."

There was another rustling sound, and a certain amount of deep breathing as Mark whispered softly,--

"Mind, not a word when I've done, or we shall be heard aboard that vessel. She's not two hundred yards away."