Blown to Bits: The Lonely Man of Rakata, the Malay Archipelago by R. M. Ballantyne (red novels TXT) 📖

his master, laying hold of the bushes, held fast and made a sign to him to land and reconnoitre.

Creeping forward to an opening in the bushes close at hand, Moses peeped through. Then he turned and made facial signals of a kind so complicated that he could not be understood, as nothing was visible save the flashing of his teeth and eyes. Van der Kemp therefore recalled him by a sign, and, stepping ashore, whispered Nigel to land.

Another minute and the three travellers stood on the bank with their heads close together.

“Wait here for me,” said the hermit, in the lowest possible whisper. “I will go and see who they are.”

“Strange,” said Nigel, when he was gone; “strange that in so short a time your master should twice have to stalk strangers in this way. History repeats itself, they say. It appears to do so rather fast in these regions! Does he not run a very great risk of being discovered?”

“Not de smallest,” replied the negro, with as much emphasis as was possible in a whisper. “Massa hab ride wid de Vaquieros ob Ameriky an’ hunt wid de Injuns on de Rockies. No more fear ob deir ketchin’ him dan ob ketchin’ a streak o’ lightnin’. He come back bery soon wid all de news.”

Moses was a true prophet. Within half-an-hour Van der Kemp returned as noiselessly as he had gone. He did not keep them long in uncertainty.

“I have heard enough,” he whispered, “to assure me that a plot, of which I had already heard a rumour, has nearly been laid. We fell in with the chief plotters on the islet the other night; the band here is in connection with them and awaits their arrival before carrying out their dark designs. There is nothing very mysterious about it. One tribe plotting to attack another—that is all; but as a friend of mine dwells just now with the tribe to be secretly attacked, it behoves me to do what I can to save him. I am perplexed, however. It would seem sometimes as if we were left in perplexity for wise purposes which are beyond our knowledge.”

“Perhaps to test our willingness to do right,” suggested Nigel.

“I know not,” returned the hermit, as if musing, but never raising his voice above the softest whisper. “My difficulty lies here; I must go forward to save the life of my friend. I must not leave you at the mouth of a mangrove river to die or be captured by pirates, and yet I have no right to ask you to risk your life on my account!”

“You may dismiss your perplexities then,” said Nigel, promptly, “for I decline to be left to die here or to be caught by pirates, and I am particularly anxious to assist you in rescuing your friend. Besides, am I not your hired servant?”

“The risk we run is only at the beginning,” said Van der Kemp. “If we succeed in passing the Dyaks unseen all will be well. If they see us, they will give chase, and our lives, under God, will depend on the strength of our arms, for I am known to them and have thwarted their plans before now. If they catch us, death will be our certain doom. Are you prepared?”

“Ready!” whispered Nigel.

Without another word the hermit took his place in the bow of the canoe. Moses stepped into the stern, and our hero sat down in the middle.

Before pushing off, the hermit drew a revolver and a cutlass from his store-room in the bow and handed them to Nigel, who thrust the first into his belt and fastened the other to the deck by means of a strap fixed there on purpose to prevent its being rolled or swept off. This contrivance, as well as all the other appliances in the canoe, had previously been pointed out and explained to him. The hermit and negro having armed themselves in similar way, let go the bushes which held them close to the bank and floated out into the stream. They let the canoe drift down a short way so as to be well concealed by the bend in the river and a mass of bushes. Then they slowly paddled over to the opposite side, and commenced to creep up as close to the bank as possible, under the deep shadow of overhanging trees, and so noiselessly that they appeared in the darkness like a passing phantom.

But the sharp eyes of the pirates were too much accustomed to phantoms of every kind to be easily deceived. Just as the canoe was about to pass beyond the line of their vision a stir was heard in their camp. Then a stern challenge rolled across the river and awoke the slumbering echoes of the forest—perchance to the surprise and scaring away of some prowling beast of prey.

“No need for concealment now,” said Van der Kemp, quietly; “we must paddle for life. If you have occasion to use your weapons, Nigel, take no life needlessly. Moses knows my mind on this point and needs no warning. Any fool can take away life. Only God can give it.”

“I will be careful,” replied Nigel, as he dipped his paddle with all the muscular power at his command. His comrades did the same, and the canoe shot up the river like an arrow.

A yell from the Dyaks, and the noise of jumping into and pushing off their boats told that there was no time to lose.

“They are strong men, and plenty of them to relieve each other,” said the hermit, who now spoke in his ordinary tones, “so they have some chance of overhauling us in the smooth water; but a few miles further up there is a rapid which will stop them and will only check us. If we can reach it we shall be safe.”

While he was speaking every muscle in his broad back and arms was strained to the uttermost; so also were the muscles of his companions, and the canoe seemed to advance by a series of rapid leaps and bounds. Yet the sound of the pursuers’ oars seemed to increase, and soon the proverb “it is the pace that kills” received illustration, for the speed of the canoe began to decrease a little—very little at first—while the pursuers, with fresh hands at the oars, gradually overhauled the fugitives.

“Put on a spurt!” said the hermit, setting the example.

The pirates heard the words and understood either them or the action that followed, for they also “put on a spurt,” and encouraged each other with a cheer.

Moses heard the cheer, and at the same time heard the sound of the rapid to which they were by that time drawing near. He glanced over his shoulder and could make out the dim form of the leading boat, with a tall figure standing up in the bow, not thirty yards behind.

“Shall we manage it, Moses?” asked Van der Kemp, in that calm steady voice which seemed to be unchangeable either by anxiety or peril.

“No, massa. Unpossable—widout dis.”

The negro drew the revolver from his belt, slewed round, took rapid aim and fired.

The tall figure in the bow of the boat fell back with a crash and a hideous yell. Great shouting and confusion followed, and the boat dropped behind. A few minutes later and the canoe was leaping over the surges of a shallow rapid. They dashed from eddy to eddy, taking advantage of every stone that formed a tail of backwater below it, and gradually worked the light craft upward in a way that the hermit and his man had learned in the nor’-western rivers of America.

“We are not safe yet,” said the former, resting and wiping his brow as they floated for a few seconds in a calm basin at the head of the rapid.

“Surely they cannot take a boat up such a place as that!”

“Nay, but they can follow up the banks on foot. However, we will soon baffle them, for the river winds like a serpent just above this, and by carrying our canoe across one, two, or three spits of land we will gain a distance in an hour or so that would cost them nearly a day to ascend in boats. They know that, and will certainly give up the chase. I think they have given it up already, but it is well to make sure.”

“I wonder why they did not fire at us,” remarked Nigel.

“Probably because they felt sure of catching us,” returned the hermit, “and when they recovered from the confusion that Moses threw them into we were lost to them in darkness, besides being pretty well beyond range. I hope, Moses, that you aimed low.”

“Yes, massa—but it’s sca’cely fair when life an’ def am in de balance to expect me to hit ’im on de legs on a dark night. Legs is a bad targit. Bullet’s apt to pass between ’em. Howseber, dat feller won’t hop much for some time to come!”

A couple of hours later, having carried the canoe and baggage across the spits of land above referred to, and thus put at least half-a-day’s journey between themselves and their foes, they came to a halt for the night.

“It won’t be easy to find a suitable place to camp on,” remarked Nigel, glancing at the bank, where the bushes grew so thick that they overhung the water, brushing the faces of our travellers and rendering the darkness so intense that they had literally to feel their way as they glided along.

“We will encamp where we are,” returned the hermit. “I’ll make fast to a bush and you may get out the victuals, Moses.”

“Das de bery best word you’ve said dis day, massa,” remarked the negro with a profound sigh. “I’s pritty well tired now, an’ de bery t’ought ob grub comforts me!”

“Do you mean that we shall sleep in the canoe?” asked Nigel.

“Ay, why not?” returned the hermit, who could be heard, though not seen, busying himself with the contents of the fore locker. “You’ll find the canoe a pretty fair bed. You have only to slip down and pull your head and shoulders through the manhole and go to sleep. You won’t want blankets in this weather, and, see—there is a pillow for you and another for Moses.”

“I cannot see, but I can feel,” said Nigel, with a soft laugh, as he passed the pillow aft.

“T’ank ee, Nadgel,” said Moses; “here—feel behind you an’ you’ll find grub for yourself an’ some to pass forid to massa. Mind when you slip down for go to sleep dat you don’t dig your heels into massa’s skull. Dere’s no bulkhead to purtect it.”

“I’ll be careful,” said Nigel, beginning his invisible supper with keen appetite. “But how about my skull, Moses? Is there a bulkhead between it and your heels?”

“No, but you don’t need to mind, for I allers sleeps doubled up, wid my knees agin my chin. It makes de arms an’ legs feel more sociable like.”

With this remark Moses ceased to encourage conversation—his mouth being otherwise engaged.

Thereafter they slipped down into their respective places, laid their heads on their pillows and fell instantly into sound repose, while the dark waters flowed sluggishly past, and the only sound that disturbed the universal stillness was the occasional cry of some creature of the night or the flap of an alligator’s tail.