The Fugitives by Robert Michael Ballantyne (hardest books to read TXT) 📖

the impulse to drive the cutlass deeper into the bull's neck. The result was that, though he escaped the creature's horn by a very narrow shave, the cutlass was wrenched violently from his grasp, and he was sent head over heels upon the plain!

Seeing this, Mark and the negro ran to the rescue, the one howling like a maniac, the other clubbing his gun; but their aid was not required, for the work of the amateur matador had been effectively done. After receiving the deadly thrust the bull plunged forward a few paces, and then fell dying upon the ground, while Hockins got up and began to feel himself all over to make sure that no bones were broken.

It need scarcely be told that they rejoiced greatly over their success, and that they cut off some of the flesh immediately, with which they returned to the forest to enjoy a much-needed meal.

"We must kindle a fire now," said Mark, stopping at an open space in the midst of a very secluded spot at the foot of a magnificent palm-tree. "You see I'm not prepared to act like a cannibal or Eskimo, and eat the meat raw."

"There won't be much fear now," said Hockins, "especially if we make the fire of dry wood an' keep it small. Just look at that, Doctor."

He held out his cutlass for inspection. It had been seriously bent in the recent encounter.

"Ain't that a cryin' shame to the owners, now, to send us poor fellows to the eastern seas, where we may meet pirates any day, with tin cutlashes like that."

"You kin put him straight de next bull you kills," said Ebony, as he prepared some touchwood; "you've on'y got to stick 'im on the _left_ side an' he'll twis' it all right. Now, massa, I's ready, bring de gun an' snap de flints ober dat."

Hockins straightened his weapon between the branches of a tree, his comrades managed to capture a spark in a mass of dry combustibles, which soon burst into a flame. As the seaman had recommended, only the driest wood was used, and just enough of that to enable them to half-roast what food they required. Then they returned to the carcass of the bull, and cut off a large quantity of meat, using the cutlass as well as their clasp-knives in the operation.

"Cut the meat in thin slices," said Mark Breezy, when they began this work.

"Why you so 'ticklar, massa?" asked Ebony. "I's fond o' t'ick slices-- w'en him's not too tough."

"Because then we can dry the meat in the sun or over a slow fire, and so be able to keep it longer without spoiling. We must spend the night here for the purpose, and perhaps part of to-morrow.--Why, Hockins, what are you about?"

"Makin' a pair o' shoes, sir; you see them old dancin' pumps as I left the ship with wouldn't hold out another day o' this rough travellin', so I'm makin' a noo pair of shoes when I've got the chance."

"They will be a primitive pair," observed Mark.

"If that means a good pair, you're right, sir. They are after the pattern first made by Adam for Eve--leas'wise it's supposed her first pair o' dancin' pumps was made this fashion. I'll make a sim'lar pair for you, sir, w'en your boots give out."

In case the reader should ever be reduced to extremities in the matter of foot-gear we may explain the seaman's method.

Selecting what he believed to be the thickest part of the bull's hide, he cut off a small portion about eighteen inches square. Spreading this on the ground with the hair upwards, he planted his naked foot on it and marked the shape thereon. Then with his knife he cut away the hide all round the foot-mark at four inches or so from the outline of the foot. Next, he bored little holes all round the margin, through which he ran a line, or lace, also made of raw hide. Then, planting his foot again in the middle of the hide, he drew the line tight, causing the edges to rise all round the foot and almost cover it.

"There you are, sir," he said, stretching out his limb and admiring the contrivance; "rough-an'-ready, you see, but soon finished. It ain't recorded in ancient history what Eve said when Adam presented her wi' the little testimonial of his affection, but if I might ventur' a guess I should opine that she said `puckery.'"

"H'm! Dey ain't a tight fit," observed Ebony. "I's ob opinion dat your corns are quite safe in 'em."

Having completed his shoe-making work, the ingenious seaman assisted his companions to prepare the dried meat, which they afterwards tied up in three convenient little parcels to be slung on their backs.

That night they found a more commodious tree to sleep in. Under the pleasant influence of a good supper they enjoyed unbroken rest, and awoke the following morning greatly refreshed. They were thus, both physically and mentally, prepared for the events of that day, to which, as they afterwards had a most important bearing on their fortunes in the island, we will devote a separate chapter.


CHAPTER FOUR.


THE DOCTOR FINDS UNEXPECTED WORK IN THE WILDERNESS, AND A MYSTERIOUS STRANGER IS INTRODUCED.

It has been said that the travellers--for we cannot now appropriately style them fugitives--had reached a more open country, and that Hockins's fight with the wild bull had taken place on the margin of a wide grassy plain.

This plain, however, was limited. In front of them the scenery was undulating and beautifully varied--almost park-like in its character, and only in one direction--to the right--did it extend like a sea of waving grass to the horizon. Behind them lay the dense forest through which they had passed. The forest also curved round to their left, and stretched away, apparently unbroken, on to still far-off mountains.

After they had breakfasted, packed their dried meat, and sallied forth on the journey of another day, they walked in silence until they reached the edge of the plain, where there was room to walk abreast.

"Now, comrades," said Mark Breezy, "we will go to the top of yon mound, see how the land lies, and hold a council of war."

"Just so, cap'n; take our bearin's an' lay our course," assented Hockins.

They soon reached the spot, and found the view from it unexpectedly beautiful. The whole landscape was clothed with tropical verdure. Past the foot of the mound ran a considerable stream, which opened out into a series of lakelets in the hollows beyond, the waters of which seemed to be the home of considerable numbers of wild-fowl,--but there was no sign of the presence of man.

"Strange," said Mark, in a low voice, "that such a lovely scene should have been created a solitude, with no one to profit by or enjoy it."

"Well now, sir," remarked the sailor, "d'ee know that same thought has puzzled me now an' again; for although my purfession is the sea, I've travelled a good bit on the land--specially in South America--and I've seen miles on miles o' splendid country, that made me think of Adam an' Eve in paradise, with never a soul, as you say, to make use of or enjoy it. I've often wondered what it was all made for!"

"Don't you tink," said Ebony, with his head a little on one side, and his earnest eyes betraying the sincerity of his nature, "don't you tink dat p'r'aps de ducks an' geese, an' sitch-like, makes use ob an' enjoys it? to say nuffin' oh de beasts, hinsects, an' fishes."

"You may be right, Ebony," returned Hockins, with an approving nod; "we human being's is apt to think too much of ourselves. Moreover, it has come into my mind that Great Britain was a solitood once--or much about it--an' it's anything but that now; so mayhap them lands will be swarmin' wi' towns an' villages some day or other. What d'ee think, Doctor?"

But the young doctor said nothing, for while his companions were thus indulging in speculations, he was anxiously considering what course they should pursue.

"You see, comrades," he said, turning to them abruptly, "if we go to the right and traverse this fine country we may very likely fall in with villages, but the villagers may be savages, like those we met on the coast. On the other hand, if we go to the left, we shall have to traverse the somewhat dark and difficult forests, but then we shall be making for the mountains and table-lands of the interior; and as the capital, Ant--Ant--"

"Anty-all-alive-O!" suggested Hockins.

"No, 's not dat. It ends wid `arrive O!' w'ich is just what we wants."

"Well, whatever may be its name, I know that it is in the centre of the island somewhere, and the centre of any land always means the mountains; so I think we had better decide to go to the left, and--"

"Hallo! look yonder, sir," said Hockins, pointing towards a low cliff which rose in front of them not a quarter of a mile from the spot where they stood.

Turning in the direction indicated, they observed a man running swiftly, as if in pursuit of something. They could see that he was clothed, and that he carried several spears, from which they judged that he was a hunter. Coming to the foot of the cliff before mentioned, the man ascended the face of it with wonderful agility, and had almost gained the top, when a treacherous root or stone gave way, causing him to lose his hold and roll violently to the bottom.

"Poor fellow, he's killed!" cried Mark, running towards the fallen hunter, who lay on the ground motionless.

He was not killed, however, though stunned and bleeding profusely from a deep wound in the arm, caused by one of his own spears while in the act of falling. When the three strangers suddenly appeared the hunter grasped one of the spears and made a vigorous attempt to rise, evidently under the impression that he was about to be attacked; but the fall and the loss of blood were too much for him. He sank back with a groan, yet there was a look of quiet dignity about him which showed that he gave way to no craven spirit.

Our young doctor, kneeling down beside him, proceeded at once to staunch the wound and bind up the arm with his pocket-handkerchief. While he was thus engaged, Hockins brought some water from a neighbouring stream in a cup which he had extemporised out of a piece of bark, and applied it to the man's lips. Ebony stood by, with a look of profound pity on his face, ready for whatever might be required of him.

The hunter showed by the expression of his handsome brown features that he was grateful for these attentions. Yet, at the same time, there seemed to be something of perplexity, if not surprise, in his looks as he gazed on the white men's faces. But he did not utter a word. When the dressing of the arm was completed--of course in a most businesslike manner--he again attempted to rise, but was so weak from loss of blood that he fell back fainting in the Doctor's arms.

"This is a most awkward business," said