Uncle Naboth growled considerably at this necessity, but he did not interfere in the least with Captain Gay’s management of the ship. Safety was more important to us than time, and Gay was not a man to take unnecessary chances.
The three wild days that followed have always seemed to me since like a horrible dream. I had no idea a ship could be so tossed and pounded and battered about, and still live. It was a mere chip on the great, angry ocean, and the water washed our decks almost continually. After one of these deluges, when every man strove to save himself by clinging to the life lines, two of our best sailors were missed, and we never saw them again. Uncle Nabe began to whistle, and every time he saw me he gave one of his humorous winks or fell to chuckling in his silent way; but my white face could not have been much encouragement to gaiety, and I believe he was not over merry himself, but merely trying to cheer me up.
But, although the danger was so imminent, not a man flinched or gave way to fear, and Nux and Bryonia performed their duties as calmly as if the sea were smooth. The vessel was staunch enough, so far; but it pitched and tossed so violently that even burly Doc Acker was obliged to crawl into the cabin on his hands and knees to get his meals.
damage as best they might. First they rigged up a temporary rudder and swung it astern. It was a poor makeshift, however, and only with good weather could we hope it would steer us to the nearest port.
While the men cleared the decks and rigged up a jury mast under the supervision of the mate, Captain Gay took our bearings and ascertained that we had not departed so greatly from our course as we had feared. Yet it was impossible to make the mouth of the Yukon in our present condition, or even to reach a shelter in Bering Sea. It was found, however, that the Alaska peninsula was not far away, so we decided to draw as near to that as possible, in the hope of meeting a passing vessel or finding a temporary refuge on some one of the numerous islands that lie in this part of the North Pacific.
For four days we labored along, in our crippled condition, without sighting land; but then our fortunes changed. During the night a good breeze from the southwest swept us merrily along, and when daylight came we found ourselves close to a small, wooded island. It lay in the form of a horse-shoe, with a broad, protected bay in the center, and Captain Gay, anxious to examine his ship more closely, decided at once to enter the harbor and cast anchor.
We fled before the wind until the third night, when the rudder chain broke and the helmsman was thrown, crushed and bleeding, against the lee bulwarks. The “Flipper,” released from all control, swung quickly around, and the big mainmast snapped like a pipe-stem and came tumbling with its cordage to the decks, where our brave sailors rushed upon it and cut it clear. I thought the ship would never right again, after the careening given it by the fallen mast; but, somehow, it did, and morning found us still afloat, although badly crippled and at the mercy of the waves.
As if satisfied with the havoc it had wrought, the gale now abated; but the waves ran high for another forty-eight hours, and our crew could do nothing but cling to the remaining rigging and await calmer weather.
Fortunately our ballast and cargo held in place through all, and the hull showed no sign of a leak. When the sea grew calmer we floated upright upon the water and it was found our straits were not nearly so desperate as we had feared.
Yet our condition was serious enough to make me wonder what was to become of us. The rudder had been entirely washed away; the mainmast was gone; the mizzenmast had broken at the head and the foresail royals were in splinters. All the deck was cumbered with rigging; the starboard bulwarks had been stove in by the fallen mast, and our crew was lessened by three able seamen.
But Captain Gay, no less dismal than before, you may be sure, promptly began to issue orders, and the men fell to with a will to repair the This was by no means an easy task, for long lines of reefs extended from each point of the shore, almost enclosing the bay with jagged rocks. But the sea was calm and the position of the reefs clearly marked; so that by skillful maneuvering the “Flipper” passed between them in safety, and to the relief and satisfaction of all on board we dropped our anchor in the clear waters of the bay.
CHAPTER 6
THE LAND OF MYSTERY.
Captain Gay examined his chart with minute care, and solemnly shook his head.
The island was not there. Either the chart was imperfect, or we had reached a hitherto undiscovered land. The latter conjecture was not at all unreasonable, for so many islands lay in this neighborhood that even when sighted by chance an outlying islet was little liable to tempt one to land upon it. This was doubtless one of the numerous group lying to the south-east of the Alaska peninsula, which are of volcanic origin and as a rule barren and uninhabited.
I have said this island was well wooded, but not until we were opposite the mouth of the natural harbor did we observe this fact. From the sea only a line of rugged headlands and peaks showed plainly, and had we not been in distress we should never have thought to stop at this place. Once within the harbor, however, the scene that met our view was not unattractive.
Bordering the bay was a sandy beach a full hundred yards in width, broken only by an inlet toward the left, or south, which seemed to lead into the interior of the island, winding between high and precipitous banks and soon becoming lost to sight. Back of the beach was the clean-cut edge of a forest, not following a straight line, but rising and falling in hills and ravines until it seemed from the bay to have been scolloped into shape by a pair of huge scissors. The woods were thick and the trees of uniform size, and between them grew a mass of vines and underbrush that made them almost impenetrable. How far the forest extended we were unable to guess; nor did we know how wide the island might be, for back of the hills rose a range of wooded mountains nearly a thousand feet in height, and what might lie beyond these was of course a matter of conjecture. Uncle Naboth, however, advanced the opinion that the island ended at the mountain peaks, and dropped sheer down to the sea beyond. He had seen many formations of that sort, and supposed we had found the only possible harbor on the island.
There was no apparent indication that the island had ever before been visited by man. Even signs of native occupation were lacking. But Captain Gay decided to send a small boat ashore to explore the inlet before we could relax all vigilance and feel that we were not liable to attack or interruption.
So the gig was lowered, and four of the crew, accompanied by Bill Acker, the mate, set off upon their voyage of discovery. They rowed straight to the inlet, which proved to be navigable, and soon after entering it we lost sight of the boat as it wound between the wooded cliffs.
We waited patiently an hour; two hours; three hours; but the boat did not return. Then patience gave way to anxiety, and finally the suspense became unbearable. After the loss of our three sailors during the storm we were reduced to eleven men, besides Uncle Naboth and myself, who were not counted members of the crew. Thirteen on board was not an especially lucky number, so that some of the men had been looking for disaster of some sort ever since we sighted the island. Those now remaining on the “Flipper” were the Captain, Ned Britton and two other sailors, Nux and Bryonia, my Uncle and myself; eight, all told. To send more men after the five who were absent would be to reduce our numbers more than was wise; yet it was impossible for us to remain inactive. Finally, Ned Britton offered to attempt to make his way through the woods, along the edge of the inlet, and endeavor to find out what had become of Acker and his men. He armed himself with two revolvers and a stout cutlass, and then we rowed him to the shore and watched him start on his expedition.
Not expecting that Ned would be long absent, we did not at once return to the ship. Instead, the Captain backed the boat into deep water and lay to, that we might pick up our messenger when he reappeared.
It had been agreed that if Ned came upon the mate he was to fire two shots in quick succession, to let us know that all was well. If he encountered danger he was to fire a single shot. If he wished us to co
me to his assistance he would fire three shots. But the afternoon passed slowly and quietly, and no sound of any kind came from the interior to relieve our anxiety. The boat returned to the ship, and Bryonia served our supper amid an ominous and gloomy silence on the part of those few who were left.
There was something uncanny about this mysterious disappearance of our comrades. Had they been able to return or to communicate with us there was no doubt they would have done so; therefore their absence was fraught with unknown but no less certain terror. Big Bill Acker was a man of much resource, and absolutely to be depended upon; and Ned Britton, who had been fully armed and would be on his guard against all dangers, was shrewd and active and not liable to be caught napping.
What, then, had they encountered? Wild beasts, savages, or some awful natural phenomenon which had cruelly destroyed them? Our imaginations ran riot, but it was all imagination, after all, and we were no nearer the truth.
An anxious night passed, and at daybreak Uncle Naboth called a council of war, at which all on board were present. We faced a hard proposition, you may be sure, for not one of us had any information to guide him, and all were alike in the dark.
To desert our absent friends and sail away from the island was impossible, even had we desired to do so; for our numbers were too small to permit us to work the disabled “Flipper” in safety, and the ship’s carpenter, on whom we greatly depended, had gone with the mate. All repairs must be postponed until the mystery of the men’s disappearance was solved; and we firmly resolved that those of us remaining must not separate, but stick together to the last, and stick to the ship, as well.
Good resolutions, indeed; but we failed to consider the demands of an aroused curiosity. After two days had dragged their hours away without a sign of our absent comrades human nature could bear the suspense no longer.
Uncle Naboth called another council, and said: “Boys, we’re actin’ like a pack o’ cowards. Let’s follow after our friends, an’ find ‘em, dead or alive. We oughtn’t to shrink from a danger we sent ‘em into; and if we can’t rescue ‘em, let’s run the chance of dyin’ with ‘em.”
This sentiment met with general approval. All felt that the time for action had arrived, and if there was a reluctant man among us he made no sign.
Early next morning we partook of a hasty breakfast and then tumbled into the long boat to begin our quest. Every one on the ship was to accompany the expedition, for no one cared to be left behind. Uncle Naboth at first proposed to leave me on board, in the care of Bry; but I pleaded hard to go with the rest, and it was evident that I would be in as much danger aboard as in the company of the exploring party. So it was decided to take me along, and we practically deserted the ship, taking with us a fair supply of provisions and plenty of ammunition. The men were fully armed, and my uncle even intrusted me with a revolver, for I had learned to shoot fairly well.
It was a beautiful morning, cool and fresh and sunny, as we rowed away from the ship and headed for the inlet. That unknown and perhaps terrible dangers lay ahead of us we had good reason to expect; but every man was alert and vigilant and eager to unravel the mystery of this strange island.
CHAPTER 7
THE MAJOR.
Presently we shot into the opening and passed swiftly up the smooth waters of the inlet. The hills were gradually sloping, at first, and we could look into the tangled mass of forest that lay on either hand. But soon the sides of the channel became rocky and precipitous, rising higher and higher until we found ourselves in a deep gorge that wound between gigantic overhanging cliffs. The waters of the inlet were still smooth, but it narrowed perceptibly, all the time curving sharply to the right and then to the left in a series of zig-zags; so that every few minutes we seemed to be approaching a solid rocky wall, which suddenly disclosed a continuation of the channel to right angles with it, allowing us to continue on our course.
It was indeed necessary to watch out, in such a place as this, for we were passing through the heart of the mountain, and could not tell from one moment to another what lay before us.
There was barely room on each side for the sweep of the oars, so that we had to pull straight and carefully; but after a time the deep gloom in which we were engulfed began to lighten, and we were aware that the slope of the mountain was decreasing, and we were approaching its further side.
On and on we rowed, twisting abruptly this way and that, until suddenly, as we turned a sharp corner and shot into open, shallow water, the adventure culminated in a mighty surprise.
We were surrounded by a band of men — big, brawny fellows who stood waist deep in the water and threw coils of rope about us before we were quite aware of their presence. At the same time they caught the boat and arrested its progress, jerking the oars from the hands of our rowers and making us fast prisoners.
Only Bryonia was quicker than the men who sought to entrap him. Before the noose could settle over his shoulders he leaped into the air and dove headlong beneath the water. But the brave attempt to escape was all in vain, for as he rose to the surface a dozen hands caught him and drew him to the shore, where, despite his struggles, he was bound as securely as the rest of us.
So unexpected was the attack and so cleverly were we mastered that scarcely a word was uttered by our little party as we stared in astonishment into the rough and bearded faces of our captors. Only Captain Gay muttered a string of naughty words under his breath; the rest were silent, and Uncle Naboth, bound round and round with rope so that he could not move, sat in his seat and looked across at me with one of his quaintest winks, as if he would cheer me up in this unexpected crisis.
Nor had a word been spoken by the men who entrapped us. Wading slowly through the water, they drew our boat to a sandy shore and beached it, while we looked curiously around upon the scene that was now clearly unfolded to our view.
The cliffs had ended abruptly, and the center of the island, flat and broad, lay stretched before us. The waters of the inlet from here became shallow, and a wide beach of strangely bright sands extended for two hundred feet on either side of it. Then came the jungle, thick and seemingly impenetrable, beyond which all was unknown. Straight and without a ripple the water lay before us a full quarter of a mile, disappearing thence into the forest.
On the thick sands of the east shore, where we now were, a number of rude huts had been erected, shaped something like Indian teepees and made of intertwined branches covered with leaves from the forest. These stood in a row near to the edge of the jungle, so as to take advantage of its shade.
But more strange than all this was the appearance of the men who had bound us. They were evidently our own countrymen, and from their dress and manners seemed to be miners. But nearly all were in rags and tatters, as if they had been long away from civilization, and their faces were fierce and brutal, bearing the expression of wild beasts in search of prey.
One of them, however, who stood upon the beach regarding us silently and with folded arms, was a personage so remarkable that he instantly rivetted our attention. His height was enormous — at least six feet and three inches — and his chest was broad and deep as that of ancient Hercules. He was bearded like a gorilla with fiery red hair, which extended even to his great chest, disclosed through the open gray flannel shirt. There was no hat upon his head, and he wore no coat; but high boots were upon his feet and around his waist a leathern belt stuck full of knives and revolvers.
No stage pirate, no bandit of Southern Europe, was ever half so formidable in appearance as this terrible personage. He stood motionless as a pillar of stone, but his little red eyes, quick and shrewd, roved from one to another of our faces, as if he were making a mental estimate of each one of us — like the ogre who selected his fattest prisoner to grace his pot-pie.
I own that I shuddered as his glance fell upon me; and we were all more or less disquieted by our rough seizure and the uncertainty of the fate that awaited us.
This man — the red giant — was undoubtedly the leader of
the outlaw band, for having pulled our boat upon the beach and dragged Bryonia to a position beside it, all eyes were turned enquiringly upon him.
He strode forward a few steps, fixed his eyes firmly upon Uncle Naboth, and said:
“Did you leave anyone aboard the ship?”
I gave a start of surprise. The voice of the huge bandit was as gentle and soft as that of a woman.
“No,” said my uncle.
“I guess, Major, we’ve got ‘em all now,” remarked one of the men.
The giant nodded and turned again to Uncle Naboth.
“You must pardon us, sir, for our seeming rudeness,” said he, with a politeness that seemed absolutely incongruous, coming from his coarse, hairy lips. “My men and I are in desperate straights, and only desperate remedies will avail to save us. I beg you all to believe that we have no personal enmity toward you whatever.” Then he turned to his men, and with a wave of his hand added: “Bring them along.”
Thereat we were jerked from our seats in the boat and led away over the sands toward the edge of the jungle. I noticed that our arms and provisions, being confiscated, were carried into one of the huts, but we ourselves were dragged past these and through an opening in the trees just large enough to admit us single file.
A. few steps from the edge we entered a circular clearing, perhaps a dozen paces in diameter, hemmed in on all sides by a perfect network of tangled brushwood and vines. Here, to our great joy, we came upon our lost comrades, all seated at the base of slender trees, to which they were bound by stout ropes.
“Hurrah!” cried Bill Acker, a smile lighting his careworn face. “It’s a joy to see you again, my boys, although you seem to have fallen into the same trap we did.”
“Beg parding, Cap’n, for getting myself caught,” said Ned Britton, quite seriously. “The brutes jumped me so quick I hadn’t time to fire a shot.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 642