CHAPTER XI
THE FRUSTRATED SACRIFICE
"A rum-looking crowd," observed Terence. "They look as if they coulddo a lot of damage, though."
"Yes," replied Mr. McKay, "I am sure of it. These fellows often fightfor fighting's sake, and a pretty spectacle they make of it at times.I've seen them at it before."
"What, these natives?"
"No, the inhabitants of New Guinea. They are strongly associated,however, not only in manners and customs, but in language. I mustpolish up my Polynesian lingo, though after acquiring a smattering ofSpanish I'm afraid I've become very rusty. Come, now, hurry up andsnug down, and we'll go ashore."
"Armed, of course?"
"Yes, certainly. Take your revolvers only. I don't think we need fearanything at present. If there's to be trouble it will be after thenatives have made the best use of us."
Accordingly the little crew worked with a will; then, directly thecanvas was stowed and a second anchor laid out, the whole party wentashore.
They were received with great show of goodwill, the natives crowdinground them with shouts of welcome, while the ceremony of rubbing noseswas duly performed.
Several of the women advanced bearing long garlands, and, to theundisguised bashfulness of the three lads, placed the flowing chainsround the necks of their visitors. Quexo, however, was denied thathonour. He was a coloured man, and therefore, in the eyes of thenatives, of no consequence.
"You made a quick passage, boss, after all," observed Blight.
"Aye, we picked up with a breeze," replied Mr. McKay, though he did notoffer to explain when the breeze was encountered.
"They've prepared a feast for you," continued the ex-pearler. "Solet's put our best foot foremost."
At a short distance from the shore was a large clearing, temporary hutsmade of branches and leaves of palm trees being erected in a vastdouble circle. Here a number of natives were busy baking pigs andfowls, while there was an abundance of yams and cocoanuts.
"They are very improvident with their supplies," remarked Andy. "Theyevidently seem as if they are certain of returning to the land ofplenty."
"Yes," replied his father, who had taken an early opportunity ofexamining the roasted pigs to make sure they were pigs. "We may aswell set-to and enjoy their hospitality; now, keep close together andsee that your pistols are easy to draw."
The chiefs, each distinguishable by his huge mop of greased and frizzedhair, had squatted in a semicircle, and no sooner had the guests seatedthemselves than there was a terrific scramble on the part of the nativechiefs to help themselves.
"We must forget for the moment that we are civilised and follow theirexample," remarked Mr. McKay, seizing a bit of pork in his fingers.
His companions did likewise, and notwithstanding the absence of knivesand forks they managed to eat and enjoy their share of the feast.
This done, there was a war-dance performed by the young men of thetribe, the warriors brandishing their clubs with such energy that itseemed wonderful that no one was hurt.
The natives did not appear to use their heavy clubs for the purpose ofknocking their imaginary adversaries over the head; instead, theyutilised the upward swing of their arms, lunging with the weapon on itsupward stroke.
Andy particularly noticed this, and remarked it to his father.
"Yes," was the reply. "It's a favourite 'knock-out' blow with thesefellows. I've seen them at it in actual combat. The idea is to getunderneath their antagonist's guard, and strike him on the chin withthe upward sweep of the club, and knock him senseless. Afterwards thewinning side secure those who are only stunned and----"
"And what?"
"Eat them!"
At length the display came to an end, and the guests prepared to returnon board. Mr. McKay had attempted to converse with some of the chiefs,but the result was a failure. He therefore told Blight to inform thechief that an early start was to be made on the morrow.
The news was received with redoubled shouts of delight, and the entirepopulation escorted the white men to the beach. Nor did they stopthere, for men, women, and children rushed headlong into the sea, andformed a huge bodyguard of swimmers till the yawl was reached.
All round the boat the water was black with the heads and arms of theswimmers, for these natives of the Pacific Islands take to the wateroften before they can walk.
Splashing and shouting loud enough to scare every shark within a mile,they swam round and round the yawl, none offering to climb aboard, tillat a shout from one of the chiefs they turned and swam rapidly to theshore.
"We must set watches to-night, I suppose?" asked Andy.
"Certainly! Although these people are supposed to be our friends, wemust imagine ourselves in hostile waters. I remember once that a smallschooner put into Niihau. The natives came off to barter, and appearedto be extremely friendly. During the night about a couple of hundredswam off to the schooner and took her crew entirely by surprise. Wefound the charred remains of her timbers about a month afterwards, butnot a trace of her unfortunate crew. They had been made into 'bigpig.'"
"What's that?" asked Ellerton.
"Otherwise killed, roasted, and eaten."
"Then what happened?"
"The usual. Gunboat, landing party, etc. The village was shelled andburnt, and the island afterwards annexed to the Empire. So, you see,we must exercise due caution, although I don't want to upset yournerves."
It must have been shortly after midnight when the crew was awakened bya warning shout from Terence. Turning out of their comfortable bunks,the others rushed from the cabin, armed in anticipation of a sudden andtreacherous attack.
A low rumbling greeted their ears, the sound apparently coming from theshore. For more than a minute the mysterious sound continued, then itsuddenly ceased.
"What is it?" asked Donald.
"I'm afraid I cannot tell you," replied his father. "It's rather likethe sound of a submarine explosion; probably a volcanic eruption."
Again the noise was repeated, yet no agitation of the placid water tookplace. The natives did not appear to be disturbed, for no commotiondue to human agency could be heard from the island. This time therumbling continued for quite five minutes, dying away in a successionof long-drawn tremors. Then all was quiet.
"I can't make it out," remarked Mr. McKay. "Whatever it is it seems tobe accepted by the natives without a protest. To-morrow I'll inquire."
The party remained on deck for nearly an hour, but as the mysteriousnoise was not repeated, they at length retired to the cabin, leavingTerence to continue the remainder of his watch.
Just after sunrise Ellerton called Mr. McKay's attention to somethingon the beach. Seizing his glasses, the elder man brought them to bearupon the spot, and the next moment he exclaimed:
"Come on, lads, get your arms and row ashore as hard as you can."
Without waiting for an explanation, the three lads jumped into theboat, Mr. McKay taking his place in the stern sheets.
"Don't look ahead; keep your eyes on the boat and pull," said Mr. McKayquietly, yet there was a grim, determined expression on his face thatbetokened trouble ahead.
The moment the little craft touched the beach the lads jumped out, andled by Mr. McKay, they made their way at top speed along the sandyshore.
Fifty yards from where they landed was the chief's canoe, which hadbeen hauled up on shore since the previous night. At regular intervalsbetwixt its lofty prow and the water were six dark objects lying on thesand.
The lads gave a gasp of horror, for lashed firmly to bamboo poles weresix natives. Their fellows were preparing to launch the canoe overtheir bodies.
"Stop that!" shouted Mr. McKay sternly, holding up his hand to arrestthe progress of the heavy craft, which was quivering under the grasp offifty stalwart blacks.
The natives hesitated, glaring at the interrupters of their ceremony,while some of the chiefs made signs for the interfering strangers tostand aside.
"Where's Blight?" shouted Mr. McKay, as he opened the cut-off of themagazine of his rifle.
"Here I am, boss," replied that individual, coolly sauntering forward.
"Tell them to knock off this horrible business."
"Let 'em carry on, boss," was the reply, almost apologetic. "You see,they ain't got no prisoners, and the chief's canoe must be launched inthis 'ere way, else it's bad luck. So they picked on some of theirleast wanted pals. Bless me, you'll soon get used to it. I did yearsago."
"You can tell them from me that the moment that canoe moves we'll openfire. You might also explain that if our wishes are not carried out,we'll go back to our own island, and those rascals can stay here tostarve. Now be quick, and let them know we mean business. Cover thesetow-headed rogues," he continued to his companions. "If I give theword, let fly continuous volleys till the rest of the rascals bolt."
Evidently the chiefs knew the power of the white men's rifles, for theystepped back a few paces. Some of their followers grasped their clubsand spears, and courageously awaited their leaders' orders.
Jimmy Blight spoke rapidly. At first his words seemed to enrage thechiefs, but finally they expostulated.
"What do they say?"
"They are willing to let the brutes free if you promise that yourpower'll keep off the--the--you know what I mean, boss, the----"
"Evil eye?"' suggested Mr. McKay.
"Aye, that's it."
"You can tell them that there's nothing to fear on that score. Letthem know that six men alive are worth something, and that six squashedto a pulp will do them no earthly good."
Once again Blight turned to the half-pacified chiefs, a rapid exchangeof words followed, and in the end the latter signed to their people tofree the captives from their terrible position.
"That's over, thank God!" ejaculated Mr. McKay with intense fervour."Tell the chiefs I'm going to make them a present," and putting hisrifle to his shoulder he fired six shots in the air in rapid succession.
Astonishment held the natives spell-bound; they had never before seen amagazine rifle discharged. The sharp "crack" of the weapon, itssmokelessness, and the peculiar screech of the nickel bullets filledthem with awe, and with great hesitation they accepted the six emptycartridge-cases as an exchange for the release of the intended victims.
"They've given you a tally, boss," observed Blight. "They call you'The Wonder that Breathes Fire.'"
"I hope they will bear it in mind then," replied Mr. McKay. "Now letthem proceed with the launching operations. When all is ready we willset sail. By the by, what was that noise we heard last night?" heinquired, turning to the ex-pearler.
"Noise! What noise, boss?"
"A kind of prolonged roar of distant thunder. Twice it occurred."
"Oh! I know what you mean. We don't take no notice of it in theseparts. It's the 'Barking Sands.' See yon hills?"--pointing to a ridgeof sand dunes about sixty feet in height. "The stuff's slippery like,and often it rolls down, and makes a row. There's a sight of otherislands about here like it."
Half-an-hour later a flotilla of nine canoes, crowded with armednatives, paddled slowly towards the entrance of the lagoon. As theypassed the white men's craft, their paddles rose in the air to theaccompaniment of a sonorous salute.
Then, as the dripping anchor rose clear of the water, the breeze filledthe sails of the yawl, and she, too, started to play her part in thehazardous enterprise.
Another five hours would decide whether Ahii would fall into the handsof its former possessors, and, what was still more important, the fateof the little band from McKay's Island.
The Nameless Island: A Story of Some Modern Robinson Crusoes Page 11