Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood Trader

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER ELEVEN.

  A GHOST--A TERRIBLE COMBAT ENDING IN A DREADFUL PLUNGE.

  "Corrie," said Jo Bumpus, solemnly, with a troubled expression on hisgrave face: "I've heer'd a-many a cry in this life, both ashore andafloat; but, since I was half as long as a marline-spike, I've neverheer'd the likes o' that there screech nowhere."

  At any other time the boy would have expressed a doubt as to thepossibility of the Grampus having, at any period of his existence, beenso short as "half the length of a marline-spike;" but, being veryimaginative by nature, and having been encouraged to believe in ghostsby education, he was too frightened to be funny. With a face that mightvery well have passed for that of a ghost, and a very pale ghost too, hesaid, in a tremulous voice--

  "Oh! dear Bumpus, what _shall_ we do?"

  "Dun know," replied Jo, very sternly; for the stout mariner alsobelieved in ghosts, as a matter of course, (although he would not admitit), and, being a man of iron mould and powerful will, there was at thatmoment going on within his capacious breast, a terrific struggle betweennatural courage and supernatural cowardice.

  "Let's go back," whispered Corrie. "I know another pass over the hills.It's a longer one, to be sure; but we can run, you know, to make for--"

  He was struck dumb and motionless at this point by the recurrence of thedreadful howling, louder than ever, as poor Poopy's despair deepened.

  "Don't speak to me, boy," said Bumpus, still more sternly, while a coldsweat stood in large beads on his pale forehead. "Here's wot I callssomethin' new, an' it becomes a man, specially a British seaman, d'yesee, to inquire into new things in a reasonable sort of way."

  Jo caught his breath, and clutched the rock beside him powerfully, as hecontinued--

  "It ain't a ghost, in course; it _can't_ be that. Cause why? there's nosich a thing as a ghost--"

  "Ain't there?" whispered Corrie, hopefully.

  The hideous yell that Poopy here set up, seemed to give the lie directto the sceptical seaman; but he went on deliberately, though with aglazed eye, and a death-like pallor on his face--

  "No; there ain't no ghosts--never wos, an' never will be. All ghosts issciencrific dolusions, nothing more; and it's only the hignorant an'supercilious as b'lieves in 'em. _I_ don't; an', wots more," added Jo,with tremendous decision, "I _won't_!"

  At this point, the "sciencrific dolusion" recurred to her former idea ofalarming the settlement; and with this view began to retrace her steps,howling as she went.

  Of course, as Jo and his small companion had been guided by herfootsteps, it followed that Poopy, in retracing them, gradually drewnear to the terrified pair. The short twilight of those regions hadalready deepened into the shades of night; so that the poor girl's formwas not at first visible, as she advanced from among the dark shadows ofthe overhanging cliffs and the large masses of spattered rock that laystrewn about that wild mountain pass.

  Now, although John Bumpus succeeded, by an almost supernatural effort,in calming the tumultuous agitation of his spirit, while the wild criesof the girl were at some distance, he found himself utterly bereft ofspeech when the dreadful sounds unmistakably approached him. Corrie,too, became livid, and both were rooted to the spot in unutterablehorror; but when the ghost at length actually came into view, and,(owing to Poopy's body being dark, and her garments white), presentedthe appearance of a dimly luminous creature, without head, arms, orlegs, the last spark of endurance of man and boy went out. The one gavea roar, the other a shriek, of horror, and both turned and fled like thewind over a stretch of country, which, in happier circumstances, theywould have crossed with caution.

  Poopy helped to accelerate their flight by giving vent to a cry of fear,and thereafter to a yell of delight, as, from her point of view, sherecognised the well-known outline of Corrie's figure clearly definedagainst the sky. She ran after them in frantic haste; but she might aswell have chased a couple of wild cats. Either terror is gifted withbetter wings than hope, or males are better runners than females.Perhaps both propositions are true; but certain it is that Poopy soonbegan to perceive that the succour which had appeared so suddenly, wasabout to vanish almost as quickly.

  In this new dilemma, the girl once more availed herself of her slightknowledge of the place, and made a detour, which enabled her to shootahead of the fugitives and intercept them in one of the narrowest partsof the mountain-gorge. Here, instead of using her natural voice, sheconceived that the likeliest way of making her terrified friendsunderstand who she was, would be to shout with all the strength of herlungs. Accordingly, she planted herself suddenly in the centre of theirpath, just as the two came tearing blindly round a corner of rock, andset up a series of yells, the nature of which utterly beggarsdescription.

  The result was, that with one short wild cry of renewed horror, Bumpusand Corrie turned sharp round and fled in the opposite direction.

  There is no doubt whatever that they would have succeeded in ultimatelyescaping from this pertinacious ghost, and poor Poopy would have had tomake the best of her way to Sandy Cove alone, but for the fortunatecircumstance that Corrie fell; and, being only a couple of paces inadvance of his companion, Bumpus fell over him.

  The ghost took advantage of this to run forward, crying out, "Corrie!Corrie! Corrie!--it's me! _me_! ME!" with all her might.

  "Eh! I do believe it knows my name," cried the boy, scrambling to hisfeet, and preparing to renew his flight; but Bumpus laid his heavy handon his collar, and held him fast.

  "Wot did it speak?"

  "Yes; listen! Oh dear! come, fly!"

  Instead of flying, the seaman heaved a deep sigh; and, sitting down on arock, took out a reddish brown cotton handkerchief wherewith he wipedhis forehead.

  "My boy," said he, still panting; "it ain't a ghost. No ghost wos everknown to _speak_. They looks, an' they runs, an' they yells, an' theyvanishes, but they never speaks; d'ye see? I told ye it was asciencrific dolusion; though, I'm bound for to confess, I never heer'do' von o' them critters speakin', no more than the ghosts.Howsomedever, that's wot it is."

  Corrie, who still hesitated, and held himself in readiness to bolt at amoment's notice, suddenly cried--

  "Why, I _do_ believe it's--No: it can't be--yes--I say, it's _Poopy_!"

  "Wot's Poopy?" inquired the seaman, in some anxiety.

  "What, don't you know Poopy, Alice's black maid, who keeps her company,and looks after her; besides `doin' her, and `undoin' her, (as she callsit), night and morning, and putting her to bed? Hooray! Poopy, mylovely black darling; where _have_ you come from? You've frightenedBumpus here nearly out of his wits. I do believe he'd have bin dead bythis time, but for me!"

  So saying, Corrie, in the revulsion of his suddenly relieved feelings,actually threw his arms round Poopy, and hugged her.

  "O Corrie," exclaimed the girl, submitting to the embrace with as muchindifference as if she had been a lamp-post, "w'at troble you hab giveme! Why you run so? sure, you know me voice."

  "Know it, my sweet lump of charcoal; I'd know it among a thousand, ifye'd only use it in its own pretty natural tones; but, if you _will_ goand screech like a bottle-imp, you know," said Corrie, remonstratively,"how can you expect a stupid feller like me to recognise it?"

  "There ain't no sich things as bottle-imps, no more nor ghosts,"observed Bumpus; "but hold your noise, you chatter-box, and let's hearwot the gal's got to say. Mayhap she knows summat about Alice?"

  At this, Poopy manufactured an expression on her sable countenance,which was meant to be intensely knowing and suggestive.

  "Don't I? Yes, me do," said she.

  "Out with it then at once, you pot of shoe-blacking," cried theimpatient Corrie.

  The girl immediately related all that she knew regarding the fugitives,stammering very much from sheer anxiety to get it all out as fast as shecould, and delaying her communication very much in consequence,--besidesrendering her meaning rather obscure--sometimes unintelligible. Indeed,the worthy seaman could scarcely under
stand a word she said. He satstaring at the whites of her eyes, which, with her teeth, were the onlyvisible parts of her countenance at that moment, and swayed his body toand fro, as if endeavouring by a mechanical effort to arrive at aphilosophical conception of something exceedingly abstruse. But at theend of each period he turned to Corrie for a translation.

  At length, both man and boy became aware of the state of things, andCorrie started up, crying--

  "Let's go into the cave at once."

  "Hold on, boy," cried Bumpus, "not quite so fast, (as the monkey said tothe barrel-organ w'en it took to playin' Scotch reels), we must have acouncil of war, d'ye see? That black monster Keona may have gone rightthrough the cave and comed out at t' other end of it, in w'ich case it'sall up with our chance o' findin' 'em to-night. But if they've gone into spend the night there, why we've nothin' to do but watch at the mouthof it till mornin' an' nab 'em as they comes out."

  "Yes; but how are we to know whether they're in the cave or not?" saidCorrie, impatiently.

  "Ah! that's the puzzler," replied Bumpus, in a meditative way; "but, ofcourse, we must look out for puzzlers ahead sometimes w'en we gets intoa land storm, d'ye see; just as we looks out ahead for breakers in astorm at sea. Suppose now that I creeps into the cave and listens for'em. They'd never hear me, 'cause I'd make no noise."

  "You might as well try to sail into it in a big ship without makingnoise, you Grampus."

  To this the Grampus observed, that if the cave had only three fathoms ofwater in the bottom of it he would have no objection whatever to try.

  "But," added he, "suppose _you_ go in."

  Corrie shook his head, and looked anxiously miserable.

  "Well then," said Bumpus, "suppose we light two torches. I'll take onein one hand, and this here cutlash in the other; and you'll take t'othertorch in one hand and your pistol in the other, and clap that bit of abroken sword 'tween yer teeth, and we'll give a horrid screech, and rushin pell-mell--all of a heap like. You could fire yer pistol straightbefore you on chance, (it's wonderful wot a chance shot will dosometimes), an' if it don't do nothin', fling it right into theblackguard's face--a brass-mounted tool like that ketchin' him right onthe end of his beak would lay him flat over, like a ship in a whitesquall."

  "And suppose," said Corrie, in a tone of withering sarcasm, "suppose allthis happened to Alice, instead of the dirty nigger?"

  "Ah! to be sure. That's a puzzler--puzzler number two."

  Here Poopy, who had listened with great impatience to the foregoingconversation, broke in energetically.

  "An' s'pose," said she, "dat Keona and missy Alice comes out ob cavew'en you two be talkerin' sich a lot of stuff?"

  It may as well be remarked, in passing, that Poopy had acquired aconsiderable amount of her knowledge of English from Master Corrie. Herremark, although not politely made, was sufficiently striking to causeBumpus to start up, and exclaim--

  "That's true, gal; come shew us the way to this here cave."

  There was a fourth individual present at this council of war whoapparently felt a deep interest in its results, although he took no partin its proceedings. This was no other than Keona himself, who layextended at full length among the rocks, not two yards from the spotwhere Bumpus sat, listening intently and grinning from ear to ear withfiendish malice.

  The series of shrieks, howls, and yells, to which reference has beenmade, had naturally attracted the attention of that wily savage when hewas in the cave. Following the sounds with quick noiseless step, hesoon found himself within a few paces of the deliberating trio. Thesavage did not make much of the conversation, but he gathered sufficientto assure himself that his hiding-place had been discovered, and thatplans were being laid for his capture.

  It would have been an easy matter for him to have leaped suddenly on theunsuspecting Bumpus, and driven a knife to his heart, after which, poorCorrie and the girl could have been easily dealt with; but fortunately,(at least for his enemies, if not for himself), indecision in the momentof action was one of Keona's besetting sins. He suspected that otherenemies might be near at hand, and that the noise of the scuffle mightdraw them to the spot. He observed, moreover, that the boy had apistol, which, besides being a weapon that acts quickly and surely, evenin weak hands, would give a loud report and a bright flash that might beheard and seen at a great distance.

  Taking these things into consideration, he thrust back the knife whichhe had half unsheathed, and, retreating with the slow gliding motion ofa serpent, got beyond the chance of being detected, just as Bumpus roseto follow Poopy to the cave.

  The savage entered its yawning mouth in a few seconds and glidednoiselessly into its dark recesses like an evil spirit. Soon after, thetrio reached the same spot and stood for some time silently gazing uponthe thick darkness within.

  A feeling of awe crept over them as they stood thus, and a shudderpassed through Corrie's frame as he thought of the innumerable ghoststhat might--probably did--inhabit that dismal place. But the thought ofAlice served partly to drive away his fears and to steel his heart. Hefelt that the presence of such a sweet and innocent child _must_,somehow or other, subdue and baffle the power of evil spirits, and itwas with some show of firmness that he said--

  "Come, Bumpus, let's go in; we are better without a torch, it would onlyshow that we were coming; and as they don't expect us, the savage mayperhaps kindle a light which will guide us."

  Bumpus, who was not sustained by any thoughts of the supposed power orinfluence of the little girl, and whose superstitious fears were againdoing furious battle with his natural courage, heaved a deep sigh,ground his teeth together, and clenched his fists.

  Even in that dreadful hour the seaman's faith in his physicalinvincibility, and in the terrible power of his fists, did notaltogether fail. Although he wore a cutlass, and had used it that daywith tremendous effect, he did not now draw it. He preferred to engagesupernatural enemies with the weapons that nature had given him, andentered the cave on tiptoe with slow cautious steps; his fists tightlyclenched and ready for instant action, yet thrust into the pockets ofhis coatee in a deceptively peaceful way, as if he meant to take theghosts by surprise.

  Corrie followed him, also on tiptoe, with the broken sabre in his righthand, and the cocked pistol in his left, his forefinger being on thetrigger, and the muzzle pointing straight at the small of the seaman'sback--if one may be permitted to talk of such an enormous back havingany "small" about it!

  Poopy entered last, also on tiptoe, trembling violently, holding on withboth hands to the waistband of Corrie's trousers, and only restrainedfrom instant flight by her anxieties and her strong love for littleAlice.

  Thus, step by step, with bated breath and loudly beating hearts, pausingoften to listen, and gasping in a subdued way at times, the threefriends advanced from the gloom without into the thick darkness within,until their gliding forms were swallowed up.

  Now it so happened that the shouts and yells, to which we have more thanonce made reference in this chapter, attracted a band of savages who hadbeen put to flight by Henry Stuart's party. These rascals, not knowingwhat was the cause of so much noise up on the heights, and, being muchtoo well acquainted with the human voice in all its modifications tofancy that ghosts had anything to do with it, cautiously ascendedtowards the cavern, just a few minutes after the disappearance of JohnBumpus and his companions.

  Here they sat down to hold a palaver. While this was going on, Keonacarried Alice in his unwounded arm to the other end of the cave, and,making his exit through a small opening at its inner extremity, bore histrembling captive to a rocky eminence, shaped somewhat like asugar-loaf, on the summit of which he placed her. So steep were thesides of this cone of lava, that it seemed to Alice that she wassurrounded by precipices over which she must certainly tumble if shedared to move.

  Here Keona left her, having first, however, said, in a low stern voice--

  "If you moves, you dies!"

  The poor child was too much te
rrified to move, even had she dared, forshe, too, had heard the unaccountable cries of Poopy, although, owing todistance and the wild nature of these cries, she had failed to recognisethe voice. When, therefore, her jailer left her with this threat, shecoiled herself up in the smallest possible space, and began to sobquietly.

  Meanwhile, Keona re-entered the cavern with a diabolical grin on hissable countenance, which, although it savoured more of evil than of anyother quality, had in it, nevertheless, a strong dash of ferociousjovialty, as if he were aware that he had got his enemies into a trap,and could amuse himself by playing with them as a cat does with a mouse.

  Soon the savage began to step cautiously, partly because of the ruggednature of the ground, and the thick darkness that surrounded him, andpartly in order to avoid alarming the three adventurers who wereadvancing towards him from the other extremity of the cavern. In a fewminutes he halted, for the footsteps and the whispering voices of hispursuers became distinctly audible to him, although all three did theirbest to make as little noise as possible.

  "Wot a 'orrid place it is!" exclaimed Bumpus, in a hoarse angry whisper,as he struck his shins violently, for at least the tenth time, against aledge of rock--

  "I do b'lieve, boy, that there's nobody here, and that we'd as well'bout ship and steer back the way we've comed; tho' it _is_ a 'orriblecoast for rocks and shoals."

  To this, Corrie, not being in a talkative humour, made no reply.

  "D'ye hear me, boy?" said Jo, aloud, for he was somewhat shaken again bythe dead silence that followed the close of his remark.

  "All right, I'm here," said Corrie, meekly.

  "Then why don't ye speak," said Jo, tartly.

  "I'd advise _you_ not to speak so loud," retorted the boy.

  "Is the dark 'un there?" inquired Bumpus.

  "What d'ye say?"

  "The dark 'un; the lump o' charcoal, you know."

  "Oh! she's all safe," replied Corrie, "I only hope she won't haul theclothes right off my body; she grips at my waistband like a--"

  Here he was cut short by Keona, who gave utterance to a low dismal wailthat caused the blood and marrow of all three to freeze up, and theirhearts for a moment to leap into their throats and all but choke them.

  "Poopy's gone," gasped Corrie, after a few seconds had elapsed.

  There was no doubt of the fact, for, besides the relief experienced bythe boy, from the relaxing of her grip on his waistband the moment thewail was heard, the sound of the girl's footsteps as she flew backtowards the entrance of the cave was distinctly heard.

  Keona waited a minute or two to ascertain the exact position of hisenemies, then he repeated the wail and swelled it gradually out into afiendish yell that awoke all the echoes of the place. At the same time,guessing his aim as well as he could, he threw a spear and discharged ashower of stones at the spot where he supposed they stood.

  There is no understanding the strange workings of the human mind! Thevery thing that most people would have expected to strike terror to theheart of Bumpus, was that which infused courage into his soul. Thefrightful tones of the savage's voice in such a place did indeed almostprostrate the superstitious spirit of the seaman, but when he heard thespear whiz past within an inch of his ear, and received a large stonefull on his chest, and several small ones on other parts of his person,that instant his strength returned to him, like that of Samson, when thePhilistines attempted to fall upon him. His curiously philosophicalmind at once leaped to the conclusion that, although ghosts could yell,and look, and vanish, they could not throw spears or fling stones, andthat, therefore, the man they were in search of was actually closebeside them.

  Acting on this belief, with immense subtlety Bumpus uttered a cry offeigned terror, and fled, followed by the panting Corrie, who uttered ascream of real terror at what he supposed must be the veritable ghost ofthe place.

  But before he had run fifty yards, John Bumpus suddenly came to a deadhalt; seized Corrie by the collar, dragged him down behind a rock, andlaid his large hand upon his mouth, as being the shortest and easiestway of securing silence, without the trouble of explanation.

  As he had anticipated, the soft tread of the savage was heard almostimmediately after, as he passed on in fall pursuit. He brushed closepast the spot where Bumpus crouched, and received from that able-bodiedseaman such a blow on the shoulder of his wounded arm, as, had it beendelivered in daylight, would have certainly smashed his shoulder blade.As it was, it caused him to stagger and sent him howling with pain tothe mouth of the cavern, whither he was followed by the triumphant Jo,who now made sure of catching him.

  But "there is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip." When Keonaissued from the cave, he was received with a shout by the band ofsavages, who instantly recognised him as their friend by his voice.Poor Poopy was already in their hands, having been seized and gaggedwhen she emerged before she had time to utter a cry. And now they stoodin a semicircle ready to receive all who might come forth into theirarms, or on their spear-points, as the case might be.

  Bumpus came out like an insane thunderbolt, and Corrie like a streak oflightning. Instantaneously the flash of the pistol, accompanied by itsreport and a deep growl from Bumpus, increased the resemblance to thesemeteorological phenomena, and three savages lay stunned upon the ground.

  "This way, Corrie!" cried the excited seaman, leaping to a perpendicularrock, against which he placed his back, and raised his fists in apugilistic attitude. "Keep one or two in play with your brokentoothpick, an' I'll floor 'em one after another as they comes up. Now,then, ye black baboons, come on--all at once if ye like--an' JoBumpus'll shew ye wot he's made of!"

  Not perceiving very clearly, in the dim light caused by a few stars thatflickered among the black and gathering clouds, the immense size andpower of the man with whom they had to deal, the savages were not slowto accept this free and generous invitation to "come on." They rushedforward in a body, intending, no doubt, to take the man and boyprisoners; for if they had wished to slay them, nothing would have beeneasier than to have thrown one or two of their spears at theirdefenceless breasts.

  Bumpus experienced a vague feeling that he had now a fair opportunity oftesting and proving his invincibility; yet the desperate nature of thecase did not induce him to draw his sword. He preferred his fists, asbeing superior and much more handy weapons. He received the first twosavages who came within reach on the knuckles of his right and lefthands, rendering them utterly insensible, and driving them against thetwo men immediately behind, with such tremendous violence, that theyalso were put _hors de combat_.

  This was just what Bumpus had intended and hoped for. The sudden fallof so many gave him time to launch out his great fists a second time.They fell with the weight of sledge-hammers on the faces of two more ofhis opponents, flattening their noses, and otherwise disfiguring theirfeatures, besides stretching them on the ground. At the same time,Corrie flung his empty pistol in the face of a man who attempted toassault his companion on the right flank unawares, and laid him prone onthe earth. Another savage, who made the same effort on the left,received a gash on the thigh from the broken sabre that sent him howlingfrom the scene of conflict.

  Thus were eight savages disposed of in about as many seconds.

  But there is a limit to the powers and the prowess of man. The savages,on seeing the fall of so many of their companions, rushed in on Bumpusbefore he could recover himself for another blow. That is to say, thesavages behind pushed forward those in front whether they would or no,and falling _en masse_ on the unfortunate pair, well-nigh buried themalive in black human flesh.

  Bumpus's last cry before being smothered was, "Down with the blackvarmints!" and Corrie's last shout was, "Hooray!"

  Thus fell--despite the undignified manner of their fall--a couple of asgreat heroes as were ever heard of in the annals of war; not exceptingeven those of Homer himself!

  Now, good reader, this may be all very well for us to describe, and foryou to read, but it was a terrib
le thing for Poopy to witness. Beingbound hand and foot she was compelled to look on; and, to say truth, shedid look on with uncommon interest. When her friends fell, however, sheexpressed her regrets and fears in a subdued shriek, for which shereceived a sounding slap on the cheek from a young savage who had chosenfor himself the comparatively dangerous post of watching her, while hisless courageous friends were fighting.

  Strange to say, Poopy did not shed more tears, (as one might haveexpected), on receiving such treatment. She had been used to that sortof thing, poor child. Before coming to the service of her littlemistress, she had been brought up--(it would be more strictly correct tosay that she had been kicked, and cuffed, and pinched, and batteredup)--by a stepmother, whose chief delight was to pull out handfuls ofher woolly hair, beat her nose flat, (which was adding insult to injury,for it was too flat by nature), and otherwise to maltreat her. When,therefore, Poopy received the slap referred to, she immediately driedher eyes and looked humble. But she did not by any means _feel_ humble.No; a regard for truth compels us to state, that on this particularoccasion, Poopy acted the part of a hypocrite. If her hands had beenloose, and she had possessed a knife just then--we are afraid to thinkof the dreadful use to which she would have put it!

  The natives spent a considerable time in securely binding their threecaptives, after which they bore them into the cavern.

  Here they kindled a torch and held a long palaver as to what was to bedone with the prisoners. Some counselled instant death, others advisedthat they should be kept as hostages. The debate was so long andfierce, that the day had begun to break before it was concluded. It wasat length arranged that they should be conveyed alive to their village,there to be disposed of according to the instructions of their chiefs.

  Feeling that they had already delayed too long, they placed theprisoners on their shoulders and bore them swiftly away.

  Poor Corrie and his sable friend were easily carried, coiled up likesacks, each on the shoulders of a stalwart savage; but Bumpus, who hadrequired eight men to bind him, still remained unconvinced of hisvincibility. He struggled so violently on the shoulders of the four menwho bore him, that Keona, in a fit of passion, tinged no doubt withrevenge, hit him such a blow on the head with the handle of an axe ascaused his brains to sing, and a host of stars to dance before his eyes.

  These stars were, however, purely imaginary, for at that time the dawnhad extinguished the lesser lights. Ere long, the bright beams of therising sun suffused the eastern sky with a golden glow. On passing theplace where Alice had been left, a couple of the party were sent byKeona to fetch her. They took the unnecessary precaution of binding thepoor child, and speedily rejoined their comrades with her in their arms.

  The amazement of her friends on seeing Alice was only equalled by hersurprise on beholding them. But they were not permitted to communicatewith each other. Presently the whole party emerged from the wildmountain gorges, through which they had been passing for some time, andproceeded in single file along a narrow path that skirted the precipicesof the coast. The cliffs here were nearly a hundred feet high. Theydescended sheer down into deep water; in some places even overhung thesea.

  Here John Bumpus, having recovered from the stunning effects of the blowdealt him by Keona, renewed his struggles, and rendered the passage ofthe place not only difficult, but dangerous to himself as well as to hisenemies. Just as they reached a somewhat open space on the top of thecliffs, Jo succeeded, by almost superhuman exertion, in bursting hisbonds. Keona, foaming with rage, gave an angry order to his followers,who rushed upon Bumpus in a body as he was endeavouring to clear himselfof the cords. Although John struck out manfully, the savages were tooquick for him. They raised him suddenly aloft in their arms and hurledhim headlong over the cliff!

  The horror of his friends on witnessing this may easily be imagined, butevery other feeling was swallowed up in terror when the savages,apparently rendered bloodthirsty by what they had done, ran towardsAlice, and, raising her from the ground, hastened to the edge of thecliff, evidently with the intention of throwing her over also.

  Before they accomplished their fiendish purpose, however, a sound likethunder burst upon their ears and arrested their steps. This wasimmediately followed by another crash, and then came a series of singlereports in rapid succession which were multiplied by the echoes of theheights until the whole region seemed to tremble with the reverberation.

  At first the natives seemed awe-stricken. Then, on becoming aware thatthe sounds which originated all this tumult came from the direction oftheir own village, they dropped Alice on the ground, fled precipitatelydown the rugged path that led from the heights to the valley anddisappeared, leaving the three captives, bound and helpless, on thecliffs.