From the palace to the jungle! From the wealth of fashion to the poverty of nature! From the scores of titled admirers to the single brave American who shared life with her on the bleak rock, mourning for a love that might never be restored by the unkind depths. A vision of yesterday and today! Turning to the sea, she breathed a prayer for the salvation of Grace Vernon, her eyes dimming as she thought of the blithe, cheery girl who had become so dear to her, and who was all the world to Hugh Ridgeway.
Her thoughts went then to Lord Huntingford, her husband. There was scant regret in her heart over the fate of the old nobleman. She was not cruel enough to rejoice, but there was a certain feeling of relief which she could not quell, try as she would, in the belief that he had gone down to death and a younger, nobler man spared. The last she saw of her husband was when he broke past the officers and plunged out upon the deck, leaving her to her fate. That he had been instantly swept overboard she had no doubt. All she could remember of her thoughts at that thrilling moment was the brief, womanly cry for mercy to his soul. After that came the lurch which prostrated her, and then Ridgeway’s cry, “Be brave, dearest!”
Bitter tears streamed down her cheeks as she thought of the strong-hearted Veath and the forsaken American girl—and all of the others in that merry company. It was not in such anguish as this that she summed up her individual loss.
Ridgeway was soon in the thick of the jungle. For two or three hours he plunged through beautiful glades, over swelling knolls, across tiny streams, but always through a waste of nature that, to all appearance, had never been touched by a human being save himself.
At last he dropped wearily upon a grassy mound and resigned himself to the conviction that they had been swept upon an absolutely unexplored, perhaps undiscovered, portion of the globe. It did not occur to his discouraged mind that he had covered less than five miles of what might be a comparatively small piece of uninhabited land and that somewhere not far distant lay the civilization for which he sought. His despairing mind magnified the horrors of their position to such an extent that he actually wondered how long it would be before death broke down their feeble resistance. Arising despondently, he turned his steps in the direction of the little cave.
It was not long before he reached a small sandy stretch about five hundred yards from the spot where he had left Lady Tennys. Little waves licked the short strip of sand lazily, seeming to invite him down to meet them on their approach from the big sea whose tidings of woe they bore. High, dark and ominous loomed the great rock on the south. He could not see the cave or the rivulet on account of obstructing trees and a curve in the shore, so he walked down to the very edge of the water, expecting to obtain a view from that point.
A startling discovery flashed upon him as he strode upon the beach. There, in the white, soft sand were plainly revealed the footprints of a bare human foot. He rubbed his eyes and gazed again. Before him were a number of small footprints, running to and from the water. In a dazed, wondering way he sought to follow them, eventually finding where a single line of tracks led directly toward a clump of trees to his left. At the edge of this he found a confusion of bewildering barefoot moulds, mixed with others unquestionably made by a shoe on the foot of a civilized person. Hurrying through the trees, fearful that savages had attacked Lady Tennys at this place, he was suddenly confronted by a spectacle that made him gasp. Down at the water’s edge, over near the place where he had left her, he saw white garments spread upon the rocks. She was nowhere to be seen. Like a flash the truth came to him, and he looked at his watch in consternation. It was but three-thirty o’clock. He had told her he would be away until five or after.
Turning about, he dashed back into the depths of the wood. It was after five when he again approached the rendezvous, carrying a quantity of plums and other fruits and a number of gaudy feathers that he had found. Away back in the wood he began to shout to her, long before he was in sight of the hill. She answered cheerily, venturing into the wood to meet him. Her clothes were white, clean, even shapely.
CHAPTER XX
THE SIGN OF DISTRESS
The next morning before she was awake he arose and made a tour of the beach in quest of shell fish, took a plunge in the cool waters of the bay, and again inspected the little footprints in the sand. He smiled as he placed his own foot, a number nine, beside the dainty imprint. On his way back to the cave he killed a huge turtle, the meat of which he promised should keep them alive for several days, if nothing better could be found. As he turned the bend he saw her standing on the ledge at the mouth of the cave, the wind blowing her hair and skirts freely. He called to her, and she turned her face eagerly in his direction. They met among the trees some distance from the spring.
“Where have you been?” she cried, her cheeks glowing.
“Hunting wild beasts,” he replied valiantly.
“Pooh! Wild flowers, you mean. I thought perhaps you had gone off to join the monkeys for an old-time frolic in the trees.”
“You won’t be so frivolous when I tell you of the narrow escape I have had. See that trusty club? See the blood on it?” They were standing close to each other as he held up the blood-spattered stick.
“Oh, Hugh,” she gasped, “is it blood?”
“Life’s blood,” he answered laconically.
“Not yours, Hugh? You are not hurt?” she cried.
“This is the beast’s blood, Tennys. I am not so much as scratched, but it was a frightful encounter,” he went on, with well-assumed gravity.
“Tell me about it. Where was it? What was it? Tell me everything,” she begged. He took her arm and together they proceeded toward their wild home.
“After breakfast I’ll take you around the bend and prove to you my valor.”
“But I cannot wait and, besides, you have proved your valor. Do tell me where the blood came from.”
“That awful thing plunged from the underbrush upon me so suddenly that I was almost paralyzed,” he said soberly. “I didn’t have much time to think, and I don’t know what I should have done if it had not been for this excellent club, which I had cut for a rather inglorious purpose. With one of the very best strokes a golfer ever made I cracked his skull.”
“His skull!”
“Likewise his neck. Then I cut his throat.”
“Oh, Hugh!” breathlessly.
“And I’m going back after breakfast to carve him up into roasts, steaks and soups enough to last us for a month.”
“Oh, it must have been something gigantic. Was it a rhinoceros?” she cried ecstatically.
“Rhinoceros soup!” he exclaimed in disgust. She was properly contrite. “I’ll tell you what I killed, if you’ll promise to endure the shock—and not tell any one else.” He placed his lips close to her little ear and whispered in awe-struck tones, “A turtle!”
“A turtle! Why, a baby could kill a turtle. You are no longer a hero. Enough to last a month! Hugh Ridgeway, are you delirious?” she exclaimed in fine scorn.
“Wait till you see him. He weighs a ton,” he said proudly.
After their breakfast of nuts, fruit and water they started for the little beach, Lady Tennys vastly excited. Her exclamations on seeing the sea monster amused Hugh beyond measure.
“I never dreamed a turtle could be so immense,” she cried. “This one must be a thousand years old.”
“If he is, we’ll have tough steaks,” observed he grimly. Later on he carved several fine steaks from the turtle and cleaned the upper shell carefully, wisely concluding to retain it for the usefulness it was sure to afford sooner or later. “There is one thing to be done,” said he, when they sat down to rest. “I must climb up that mountain and plant a white flag to show that we are here if a ship should pass. I’ll do that as soon as I have rested, provided I can find anything white that is large enough to be seen from a distance.”
She looked far out over the harbor for a minute, a tinge of red running to her ears.
“A handkerchief would be too small,
wouldn’t it?” she asked.
“I’m afraid so,” he answered glumly.
Soon afterward she left him and went to the cave, bidding him to await her return. When she came back she carried in her hand a broad piece of white cloth, which she laid before him on the grass. There was a look of modest reluctance in her eyes when he glanced quickly up at them. A cherished underskirt, ripped ruthlessly from waistband to ruffle, making one broad white flag of the finest texture, was her offering.
“Use that, Hugh.” She could not resist smiling as she pointed to it.
“It will be the very thing,” he said, arising and taking the garment from the ground somewhat carefully.
“It won’t hurt you,” she said, laughing frankly; whereupon he waved it rudely above his head and pointed to the pinnacle of the rock.
“With this I shall scale the rock and skirt the bay!”
Within ten minutes he was on his way up the incline, carrying his stout stick in his hand, another heavier and stronger one being bound to his back with the white signal attached. She accompanied him to the point where the ascent became difficult and full of danger.
“Be careful, Hugh,” she said; “it looks so dangerous. If you find there is any possibility of falling, don’t attempt to go to the top. You are so daring, you Americans, that you do not recognize peril at all Promise me, or I shall not allow you to go on.”
He looked down into her serious upturned eyes and promised. Then he resumed the ascent, with a queer flutter of adulation in his heart.
From time to time he paused to rest. In each instance he looked below, waving his hand encouragingly to the anxious one who watched him so closely. On, over fierce crags, around grim towers, along steep walls, higher and higher he crawled. Twice he slipped and fell back several feet. When he glanced down, cold perspiration standing on his forehead, he saw her bending with averted face, her hands pressed to her eyes as if she expected his body to come crashing to her feet. With recovered energy he shouted to her, and the quick, glad glance upward was enough to make the remainder of the ascent glorious to him. At last, his hands and knees bleeding, he crawled upon the small, flat top of the mountain, five hundred feet above the breakers, three hundred feet above the woman he had left behind.
The sea wind whistled in his ears as he arose to his feet. His knees trembled and he grew momentarily dizzy as he looked out over the vast, blue plain before him. Fear seized upon him; there came a wild desire to plant his flag and hurry from the death-like summit. Sitting down, he nervously unfastened the pole and flag, looking about as he did so for a place to plant the beacon. For one moment his heart sank only to bound with joy in the next. Almost at his elbow ran a crevasse in the rock, deep and narrow. It was but an instant’s work to jam the pole into this crevasse, and the white flag was fluttering to the breeze. He was certain it would be days before the winds could whip it to shreds.
A feeling of helplessness and dismay came over him as he gave thought to the descent. In his eagerness to begin the hazardous attempt, he almost forgot the chief object of his climb to the top—the survey of the surrounding country. As far as he could see there stretched the carpet of forest land, the streak of beach and the expanse of water. In the view there was not one atom of proof that humanity existed within a radius of many miles. Growing calmer, he scanned the wonderful scene closely, intently, hoping to discover the faintest trace of aught save vegetable life, all without reward. He was about to begin the descent when a faint cry came to him from far below. Clinging to the edge of the topmost rock, he looked downward.
Lady Tennys was pointing excitedly toward the little bay on his left. A single glance in that direction filled him with amazement, then consternation. Recklessly he entered upon the descent. Obstacles that had seemed impassable as he thought of them on the summit were passed safely and hurriedly.
How he reached her side so quickly, he could not have explained if he tried, but in less than five minutes he stood with her, clasping her hand and looking anxiously toward the sands on which the great back of the turtle lay upward to the sun.
CHAPTER XXI
GODS FROM THE SEA
Drawn up to the beach were three long canoes, near which were nearly a score of brown-skinned, almost wholly naked savages, with spears, shields and war clubs. They were excitedly inspecting the footprints in the sand. Hugh and Lady Tennys looked down upon this startling picture in speechless concern.
“Where did they come from?” whispered he.
“I did not see them until they were beaching the boats,” replied his white-faced companion. “Do you think they have seen us?”
“Hardly, but they will begin a search at once. See, they are now starting to follow those tracks. By Heaven, they’ll find us, and what chance have we against them? Good Lord, this pocket knife is worse than nothing. We must hide,—and quickly, too.”
“Where can we go, Hugh? Where can we go?” she cried, panic-stricken.
“We must climb up among the crags and lie down. They can’t see us there, and they certainly can’t track us over that stone plateau. Quick! We have no time to lose.”
He fairly pushed her ahead of him, up to the row, of sharp, jutting stones. In an instant they were completely obscured from view.
“I’d rather leap off this rock into the sea than be captured by those horrible things,” she half sobbed. “Hugh, do you think they would eat us?”
“The Lord knows. I can see them down there holding a consultation. Move over here and you can see the whole valley. Don’t be afraid; they can’t see us.” She moved over timidly. Crouching side by side they watched the operations below. The visitors, evidently mystified by the footprints, were huddled together, gesticulating wildly. They ran hither and thither like so many ants, minutely examining the mysterious tracks. After a long time Hugh gave vent to an exclamation.
“By George! I know what’s the matter. They can’t understand the prints of our shoes. Our naked footprints are clear enough to them, but I’ll bet my soul they’ve never seen an impression made by a shoe. They are your and my footprints, you know, with and without shoes.”
“Mine? Why, Hugh Ridgeway, I—never—oh, I never thought!” she exclaimed, deeply embarrassed after her first expression of wonder and incredulity. Then she leaned forward and strained her eyes as if expecting to see the slender little bottoms of her feet in the tell-tale sand. At that moment the brown band divided into squads, a half dozen coming toward the mountain, the others remaining with the boats.
“They are after us, Tennys. I have no weapon but this club, but I will use it as long as I can stand. I’ll protect you to the last. If they kill me, the only thing left for you to do is to crawl to the ledge over there and jump off. We must not be taken.”
She felt a strange sense of confidence and security in the broad back of the man beside her. His jaw was set. His cheeks pale, his eyes burning with the intensity that thrilled his whole being. The strong white hand clutched the club fiercely. He was no longer the light-hearted, inconsequent youth she had known on board the ship.
The brown figures came into sight again, flitting here and there, pausing in wonder beside the stone table, inspecting the cracked nuts critically, and closely examining the ground on all sides. At last four or five of them sped up the ledge to the cave.
“They have found our hotel,” said Hugh grimly. She gulped and could do no more than nod.
A tall fellow with a long spear and a huge shield, stripped to the loins, about which was a white cloth, ventured up the slope. Suddenly he halted and called his companions to his side. He had found a footprint in a bit of sand on the rocky surface. Without more ado the squad scattered and began the ascent, each man eyeing the ground eagerly. Occasionally those nearest the centre would pause and point to a track. “The good Lord help us!” murmured Ridgeway.
Both were fascinated by the approach of the savages. It was not until they were within a hundred feet of them that Hugh bethought himself and drew her back, enti
rely out of sight. At least, he thought she could not be seen, but he was mistaken. A portion of her white dress protruded, and a triumphant yell announced the fact that it had met the eyes of a searcher. Wondering what had caused the sudden yell, Hugh peered around the corner of the rock, and to his dismay found the whole band staring at their hiding place.
“They have seen us,” he cried. “Remember, Tennys, what I told you. It’s probably a case of fight on my part. Let ’em come, spears and all!” He stood erect, his eyes flashing with excitement and eagerness. Taking a few steps to one side, he stood in full view of the searchers, glaring down upon them defiantly, his club in his rigid right hand. He expected a shower of spears. To his utter amazement, however, the fierce-looking warriors, open mouthed and apparently terror-stricken, slunk backward, huddling together, all the time staring at him with bulging eyes. His first thought was that they were surprised to find him so bold, but the next act on their part caused him to gasp with wonder.
With one accord the entire band cast weapons aside and fell face downward, beating their heads against the rock, just as he had seen Arabians and Nubians perform in saluting some mighty potentate. The brown backs remained in that position for a full minute before he could call his trembling companion to his side.
“What does it mean?” whispered she at last. “Are they dead?”
“They are really there, then? By George, I thought I was dreaming. Tennys, they are actually doing us homage.”
“Then they are harmless,” she cried joyously.
“I believe I could go down and cut off their ears without hearing a protest.”
“But you won’t, will you?”
“It would be barbarous, totally uncalled for, I’m sure. I can’t understand their warlike appearance, though. Those fellows look as if they were out for blood.”
The George Barr McCutcheon Megapack: 25 Classic Novels and Stories Page 179