Jack at Sea: All Work and No Play Made Him a Dull Boy

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

  IN THE FACE OF PERIL.

  "Come on," said Jack, after they had stood listening for a few minutes,and gazing in the direction taken by the pigs. "Is it any use lookingfor the arrows?"

  "Not a bit, sir. Here, only let me find one lying asleep in the mudsomewhere. I dare say there's, dozens doing it now, with their eyesshut, and their curly tails pretending to whisk away the flies. Comeon, sir, we must keep going, hot as it is. Never mind, we shall do ityet, but next time I'm not going to trust to bows and arrows. You shallhunt them down to where I'm hiding, and I'll skewer one somehow oranother."

  But in the next two hours' weary struggle among trees, rocks, and wavingcreepers they only heard pigs once, and then it was as they dashed offunseen, grunting and squealing wildly. Birds were scarcer and verysmall, while they felt no temptation to try the esculent qualities ofthe lizards they saw glancing about over the hot lava, or of the snakeswhich hurriedly crawled away.

  They were successful though in finding a trickling stream of pure coldwater, and a tree bearing a kind of fruit something like a poor, smallapricot with a very large stone. It was bitter and sour, but it did, asNed said, to clean your teeth.

  Three more arrows were lost in shooting at birds, but without success,and Ned shook his head.

  "I don't know how it is with you, sir," he said, "but my arm has hadsuch a long rest that the muscles now seem to be too strong, and theymust have jerked the bow just when I let go the string."

  "I can soon tell you how it is with me, Ned," said Jack. "I never coulduse a bow and arrow, so of course I can't now."

  They struggled on, growing less cautious in their eagerness to get downto the shore.

  "Shall get some cocoanuts there, if we can't get anything else, sir,"said Ned; "but I do hope it will be somewhere near the yacht."

  "But how are we to signal them if we don't get there before dark?"

  "Light a fire on the sands, sir. Oh, don't you be afraid of that. It'sthe getting there is the difficulty."

  It was growing well on in the afternoon when this was said, and, so weakand exhausted that they could hardly struggle on, they welcomed an openslope covered with some creeping kind of plant, as it seemed, for itoffered the prospect of getting along better for a couple of hundredyards. Here, too, they could see down a ravine to the reef, whichseemed to be wonderfully close at hand, though they knew that they hadmiles to struggle over before they could reach the sands--and suchmiles.

  "Let's make for that valley, Ned, and try to go down there."

  "Very well, sir; just which way you like. Seems all the same; but let'sget close up to the trees, though it's furthest, for we may find somekind of fruit. What a country! Not so much as an apple, let alone apear, or--Mr Jack, sir! Oh!"

  "What is it?" cried Jack, startled by his companion's excitement. "Whathave you found?"

  For Ned had thrown himself upon his knees, and with one end of the bowwas tearing away at the straggling plants which covered the groundwherever it was not rocky or smothered by bush.

  "Can't you see, sir? Here, come and help. _'Taters_!"

  "What?" cried Jack.

  "Yes, 'taters, sir; only little 'uns. Not so big as noo potaties athome, but 'taters they are. Look!"

  "Fingers were made before forks," says the old proverb, so under thecircumstances it was not surprising that Ned began to use his hands asif they were gardener's potato forks, and with such success that in ashort time quite a little heap of the yellow tubers were dug out of theloose sandy soil, the average size being that of walnuts.

  Jack set to work at once to help, but he had hardly dragged away acouple of handfuls of haulm when he started up with a cry of alarm.

  Ned leaped up too and seized his spear, expecting to have to face theblacks; but the enemy was a good-sized snake which had been nestlingbeneath the thick stalks of the plants, and now stood up fully threefeet above the tops of the growth, with head drawn back, moving to andfro as if about to launch itself forward and strike at the first whoapproached it.

  "Stand back, Mr Jack," cried the man, and with one mower-like sweep ofhis spear-handle he caught the serpent a few inches below itsthreatening head, and it dropped writhing at once, with its vertebrasbroken.

  "Can't stand any nonsense from things like that, sir," cried Ned, as hetook his spear now as if it had been a pitchfork, raised the twiningreptile from among the haulms, and after carrying it a few yards, threwit cleverly right away among the bushes at the side.

  "Take care, perhaps there are more," said Jack. "So much the worse forthem if there are, sir. I want the 'taters, and I'd have 'em if theplace was full of boa-constrictors as big as they grow. Come on."

  In a very short time they had their pockets and handkerchiefs full, thetubers coming out of the hot, dry, sandy soil perfectly clean; and thusfurnished, they made for a spot where the lava rock was piled up,selected a niche, and scraped out a sandy hollow about a couple of feetacross, laid the potatoes down singly and close together, covered themagain with the sand, and then turned to the edge of the nearest patch oftrees to gather dead boughs, leaves, everything they could which seemedlikely to burn, and carried it to their improvised oven.

  "Suppose the blacks see the smoke of the fire?" said Jack, as they piledup the smaller twigs and leaves over the potatoes, and Ned brought outhis box of matches.

  "I can't suppose anything, sir, only that we must eat. If they do comeon for a fair fight, I'm ready. Fight I will for these 'taters, comewhat may."

  The leaves and twigs caught readily, and the smoke began to curl up inthe clear sunny air, as bigger and bigger pieces of wood were thrown on.Then as they went to the foot of the trees for more of that which layin abundance, they glanced in all directions, but all was silent andsolitary, with the beautifully-shaped mountain curving up above them,and a faint mist as of heat just visible in transparent wreaths aboveits summit.

  "Don't let's take too much, Mr Jack--only a little at a time, so as tohave to come again and again."

  "Why not take as much as we can carry now?"

  "Because if we do we can't put it all on at once, and we only want anice gentle fire, and to keep on mending it till there are plenty ofashes."

  "Well, we need not put it all on if we've got it there."

  "But we must have something to do, sir."

  "Well, lie down and rest till the potatoes are done."

  "You don't know what you're talking about, sir. You can't think of whatagony it will be. They must have half-an-hour, and it will seem like aweek. You take my advice, sir. I'm sure it's right."

  "Very well," said Jack, and they kept on going to and fro, breakingenough to keep on feeding the fire, and trying hard not to think aboutwhat was cooking, as they still piled on the twigs and branches of deadwood, Ned busying himself in breaking them up, far more than wasnecessary in his desperate determination not to be tempted to draw out asingle tuber before they were done.

  "I know what 'taters are, sir," he said between his teeth, "and as badas can be really raw, but the gloriousest things as ever were for ahungry man when he has got nothing else. But what a pity it is! Ifwe'd had our guns we could soon have brought down a skewerful or two ofthose green and scarlet parrots to roast, and--Oh, don't talk about it.Makes my mouth water horribly."

  "Think they're done now, Ned?" said Jack, after three or four journeysto and fro.

  "No, sir, nor yet half. The sand underneath has to get hot. I tell youwhat, we'll dig up some more and put them in the hot ashes after theseare done, to cook and take away with us. They'll do all right whilewe're eating our dinner."

  "Very well," said Jack, as he tried hard to curb his impatience, "butit's terrible, this waiting."

  "Try not to think about it, please, sir. There, let's make up the fireonce more, and then go and dig."

  The wood was fetched and thrown on, both standing a little backafterward, and having a hard struggle to keep from raking out two orthree of
the potatoes to try if they were done, but they masteredthemselves bravely, and hurried to the spot where they had dug before,to find it taken possession of by a larger and thicker snake than theone that had been killed. It was coiled up on the dry sand which theyhad cleared of leaves, and rose up menacingly at their approach.

  "What shall we do--go somewhere else?" said Jack.

  "No, sir, that we won't," cried Ned fiercely. "If that long eely thingchooses to play dog in the manger over the potatoes, it must take theconsequences. I'll soon finish him. Think he's poisonous?"

  "I feel sure of it, Ned," said Jack anxiously. "Look at the swollenpoison glands."

  "That settles it. Seems to me like a duty to kill poisonous things. Iknow what it is to be poisoned, sir."

  He gave his shoulder a twist, and advanced toward the serpent with hisspear-handle ready.

  "You keep back, sir, and let me have room to swing my spear round."

  "No; I want to kill this one, Ned."

  "Better not, sir. It's risky. You might miss."

  "You be ready to strike him if I do."

  "Very well then, sir; only be careful. A good swish round will do it,but snakes are quick as lightning, and we've had trouble enough withoutyou getting bitten."

  The snake rose higher, and prepared to strike as Jack advanced, holdinghis spear in both hands, and waiting his opportunity, he brought itround with all his force, but the end passed, through his miscalculationof the distance, a couple of inches short of the reptile's head, andbefore the lad could recover himself to make another blow, the creaturestruck back, and would have fastened upon him but for Ned's quickinterposition of his own spear-handle, against which the serpent struckinstead.

  The next moment Ned struck again, full on the creature's back, and itwas helpless now for attack, writhing in amongst the growth till Jackobtained another fine cut at it, and the battle was at an end.

  Ned picked it, up upon the end of his spear.

  "They say that things are good if roasted, sir. What do you say--shallwe cook him?"

  "Ugh! No. Throw the horrible thing away."

  "Yes, sir; off it goes. One wants another day's starving to eat roastsnake."

  He sent the nearly dead creature whirling through the air with a suddenjerk of his spear-handle, and then turned to Jack.

  "Now, sir," he said, "as quick as you can, and then--"

  He did not finish his sentence, but threw himself upon his knees again.Jack followed his example, and for about ten minutes they busiedthemselves getting another load, and then ran to the fireside andemptied all they had into a heap.

  "Now then," cried Ned; "but be careful, sir; they'll be horribly hot."

  Jack said nothing, but looked on while his companion thrust the stillburning wood aside with his spear, then swept off the thick bed ofglowing embers, and lastly the hot sand, before turning the potatoes outinto a heap on the other side, and spreading them to cool.

  "Let 'em be, sir, till we've charged the oven again," cried Ned, and thefight now was harder than ever as they began to throw the fresh batchinto the hot pit. But it was done, and the sand swept over them. Theglowing embers followed, the wood was piled on, to begin crackling andblazing, and then, and then only, did they fall to.

  Only a meal of little hot roasted potatoes, without butter, pepper, orsalt, but no banquet of the choicest luxuries could have tasted half sogood. They were done to a turn, and though very small, of the mostdesirable flavour, and satisfying to a degree.

  "Try another, sir, try another," Ned kept on saying; but Jack needed nourging, and as he sat there eating one after another, the sun seemed tobe less hot, the place around more beautiful, the shore less distant,and the possibility of their reaching the yacht that night more and moreof a certainty. But that certainty began to grow into doubt when, wellsatisfied by their meal, the pair lay back to rest a little beforemaking a fresh start.

  "Must give the second batch time to get well done, sir, and to cool abit, before we toddle, and then we ought to be on the look-out forwater. A good drink wouldn't come amiss."

  "No," replied Jack slowly; "but hadn't we better get some more wood toput on? The fire's getting very low."

  "No, sir, it's just right. There's a good heap of embers now, and bythe time the wood's all burned the potatoes will be about done. Thinkany one planted them here first?"

  "I should say they were planted by the captain who left the pigs."

  "Then I say he ought to have a monument, sir, for it was the finestthing he ever did in his life--much finer than anything I shall ever do.My, how different everything looks after you've had a good feed!"

  Jack made no reply to that, but said, a minute or so later--

  "Think the savages have seen our fire, Ned?"

  There was no reply.

  "'Sleep, Ned?" said Jack, looking toward him.

  There was still no reply.

  "Poor fellow! Let him rest a bit," thought the boy; and then he beganto think of what news it would be when he got back to the yacht, toannounce that the arm was restored. The yacht brought up the thought ofsailing right away over the blue waters, gliding easily on, with thewarm sun upon his cheek and the soft breeze fanning his brows, and JackMeadows went on sailing away, but it was only in fancy, for he too,utterly worn out by the morning's exertions, was fast asleep, without athought that danger might be near.