“Sergeant Dunn reporting, sir,” the soldier said with a salute. “We’ve captured two convicts attempting to escape.”
Captain Home frowned and said. “Who?”
“Ambrose and Bryan,” Dunn said.
“Nettleton had charge of Ambrose,” Captain Home said. “Where is he?”
Sergeant Dunn held up the blue hat as if it explained everything. He said, “Nettleton and the stowaway fell overboard in the struggle.”
Beth gasped. Overboard! she thought.
Patrick struggled to breathe. One minute he was in the water. The next minute he was grabbed and thrown onto something hard. He was on his back. Black spots grew large in front of his eyes. He saw a face. Then the iron gray sky.
“Breathe! Breathe!” he heard someone shout. Whoever it was kept pushing on his stomach.
Patrick’s stomach lurched. He turned his head. Up came a stream of saltwater. It gushed all over the wooden planks.
Patrick gasped for air. He wheezed and fought to breathe in and then out again. His head pounded. His eyes stung.
“Ye must have said yer prayers,” Nettleton said.
Patrick felt sick. He blinked his eyes to clear away the salty sting. Then he looked around his surroundings.
He and Nettleton were on the curved bottom of the landing boat. It had somehow flipped over. They were floating on the ocean between the ship and the island. Both were a good distance away.
“What happened?” Patrick asked.
“I pushed the water out of ye,” Nettleton said. “That let the air in.”
Patrick carefully sat up. “I’m a prisoner, and you still saved me?” he asked.
“Don’t let me peg leg fool ye,” Nettleton said. “I be an able swimmer. I can’t say the same for Bryan and Ambrose.”
Patrick was alarmed. “Did they drown?” he asked.
“No. They still be on the ship,” Nettleton said. “They can’t swim without a barrel tied to ’em,” Nettleton said.
Patrick looked out at the ocean. The wind was blowing harder, and the waves rose higher.
“What are we going to do now?” Patrick asked. “How do we get back to the ship?”
“The oars be gone,” Nettleton said. “We can’t row back.
Suddenly, a huge wave lifted the boat.
9
Shark!
Captain Home scratched his white beard. He was looking through a spyglass toward the island. “There they are,” he said. “Their boat is overturned. They’re on top.”
“Or the bottom, as the case may be,” Calvert said.
Beth unhooked the spyglass on her belt. She searched in the area where the captain had been looking.
She saw Patrick and Nettleton. They were scrambling to stay on top of the overturned boat.
The captain looked through the spyglass again. “I can’t send out a rescue party in time to save them from the storm,” the captain said. “We’ll have to hope they make it to the island.”
“That’s all? We have to do something!” Beth cried.
Calvert stepped forward. “Captain,” he said, “even if they survive the storm, you can’t leave them on the cannibals’ island alone. May I suggest that we gather a group of soldiers? We can take a rescue boat. Surely they are hardy fellows and can row fast enough to outrun the storm.”
Captain Home thought for a moment. “It’s still dangerous.”
“Nettleton is one of your best men,” Calvert said. “You can’t leave him at the mercy of the cannibals.”
“The same with my cousin,” Beth said.
“I’ll go with the soldiers,” Calvert said, “I can ask the good Fijians for help.”
“You’re determined to land on that island no matter what happens,” the captain said.
“All in the line of duty,” Calvert said.
The captain frowned. Then he nodded. “You had better hurry, then. The storm won’t wait for you.”
The men marched off. They seemed to forget about Beth. She slipped back behind the cannon to stay out of view.
Whatever it takes, she thought, I’m getting on that rescue boat.
Then she remembered Patrick and the wave. She said a quick prayer for his safety. Then she turned to the water and lifted the spyglass to her eye.
Patrick felt the water close over his head again. He thrashed his arms, trying to get to the surface. He broke through and gasped for air.
“Get out of the water,” Nettleton shouted. “Before ye get yer leg bit off! There be sharks in these waters!”
Just then, a fin surfaced. Patrick could see a dark form in the water. Shark! he thought and trembled.
“I’m trying,” Patrick gasped. He swallowed a mouth of saltwater instead.
Patrick frantically dog-paddled as he reached for the rim of the boat.
Nettleton grabbed him by the collar and pulled him onto the boat.
Patrick found a safe spot. He looked over the side of the boat. “That’s a big shark!” he said. “It’s like a whale!”
Nettleton chuckled. “Aye, that be a whale shark, mate. It made the wave,” he said. “They’ll knock yer boat around, but they won’t eat ye.”
Patrick pointed at Nettleton’s peg leg. “Is that how you lost your leg?”
“Ye mean from a shark?” Nettleton asked. Patrick nodded.
“No, me story be not so grand,” Nettleton said. “I had an accident aboard the ship some years ago. Me leg was crushed. A good surgeon did the honors of cuttin’ it off.” Nettleton made a slicing motion with his hand. “That saved me dyin’ of infection. So now I be learnin’ to be a surgeon meself. I want to be helpin’ others.”
“Isn’t it hard?” Patrick asked. “Working on a ship with only one leg? Didn’t you want to go home?”
“Home? The ship be me home,” Nettleton said. “And the captain had reason to pack me off to England. But he kept a place for me. Even with me bein’ a poor cripple. Not everyone be so kind.”
Patrick looked toward the ship. It seemed even farther away. “Will the captain rescue us?” he asked.
“He’ll do his best,” Nettleton said. “But this storm be a bad one. He might not send a rescue party until dawn.”
Patrick frowned. “Then what are we going to do?”
Nettleton glanced to the island. It was getting closer. “Spend the night on that island, I reckon,” he said.
“Near cannibals?” Patrick asked.
“Do ye have a better plan?” Nettleton asked.
“No,” Patrick said. He frowned. “I don’t.”
10
The Canoes
There was a moment—just one—when no one was near the rescue boat. Beth crept quickly across the landing. She jumped into the boat. It swayed under her feet. She steadied herself.
The rescue boat had been packed with a few barrels, some tarps, and a trunk.
Where should I hide? Beth wondered. She saw a bench at the back. It was like a shelf. She crawled over to it and then under. She saw the trunk. She pulled it closer to help hide her.
Beth heard footsteps. The soldiers and sailors scrambled into the rescue boat. She could see only their legs as they took position.
She recognized Calvert’s black pants and shoes. He sat on the bench above her.
The boat suddenly jerked. Then it jerked again and again. Beth realized the boat was being lowered to the water. There was a small splash, and the boat rocked for a moment.
Beth saw the men’s hands reach down to pick up oars. She heard the oars splash in a steady rhythm.
After a few minutes, the rain started. It came in sprinkles first. Then it poured down by bucketfuls. A giant puddle grew around Beth. It was full of dirt, wood chips, and something green. Yuck! she thought.
Lightning flashed somewhere nearby. Thunder rolled. The boat rocked wildly. The trunk looked as if it might tip over. She reached out to steady it.
Suddenly Calvert’s feet turned at an angle. Then his face appeared in front of her. Calvert was lookin
g at her upside down.
“Well, well,” he said.
Patrick and Nettleton were almost to the island when it began to rain hard. Lightning flashed again and again. After each bolt, thunder boomed. The wind howled. Large waves rocked the boat.
Nettleton jumped off the back of the boat. The water came up only to his knees.
Patrick leaped into the water too. He and Nettleton struggled toward the beach. Waves crashed all around them.
Patrick collapsed on the wet sand. He turned in time to see a large wave grab the boat. It hurled the boat onto a jagged reef. The boat broke apart with a hollow crack.
The rain felt like needles stabbing Patrick’s skin. Gusts of wind pushed him forward as he collapsed onto shore.
Nettleton walked slowly. His peg leg sunk into the wet sand with each step.
Patrick was soaked through and through. He shivered.
Patrick wished he hadn’t pushed the red button on the Imagination Station. He had wanted an adventure, but not one like this.
“Would you like a tarp?” Calvert asked Beth. “You’ll stay drier.”
Beth blushed. She climbed out from her hiding place. Her hair and clothes were sopping wet. She plopped down on the wood bench next to Calvert.
The missionary had a white tarp draped across his head and shoulders.
“How did you know I was there?” Beth asked.
Calvert gave her a wink. “I saw you reach for the trunk,” he said. He handed a tarp to Beth.
“Are you going to take me back to the ship?” Beth asked.
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” Calvert said. “We’ve come too far.”
Beth wrapped herself up in the tarp tent-style. She left a small opening in the front so she could see. The sailors craned their necks to look back at her. One or two scowled.
“I had to come,” Beth said. “Patrick is on the island.”
Calvert nodded. “God seems determined to keep you in my care,” Calvert said. “And I think you’re safe enough. God has this little boat in the palm of His hand. He can calm the sea should He choose to do so.”
The sailors began to sing a song about a mermaid. The men rowed in time to the music.
Beth tried to forget she was very cold and wet. She thought about Patrick and hoped he was safe.
“Do you think Patrick and Nettleton are all right?” Beth asked Calvert.
“If the Lord wills it,” Calvert said.
Beth took out her spyglass. She searched the water and the shore for signs of Patrick. But seeing anything was difficult because of the rain.
She saw waves with white caps. She saw trees bent by the wind. She saw a dolphin jump out and back into the sea.
No, not a dolphin, she thought. It was one of the cannibals’ canoe rafts! It tossed about in the waves.
“I see Toki’s canoe,” Beth shouted to Calvert. “It’s empty!”
Beth handed the spyglass to the missionary. She pointed in the direction he should look.
Calvert peered through the spyglass. Then he lowered it and looked at Beth. “I’m afraid the sea has swallowed Toki and his men,” he said.
The rain fell harder. Patrick followed Nettleton into the palm trees lining the beach. The trees didn’t give Patrick much cover from the rain. He looked around. Tangled branches had been ripped from their tree trunks. The wind had torn one palm tree out of the ground.
“We must find shelter!” Nettleton shouted.
Patrick imagined what might happen if they found shelter near the cannibal village. “Where do the cannibals live?” he asked.
“Where do cannibals live?” Nettleton shouted with a laugh. “Wherever they want to!”
A gust of wind pushed Nettleton against a tree trunk. “If ye be a prayin’ lad, now be a good time to do it.”
Patrick remembered Calvert’s words. He said Patrick would never be alone if he prayed. So he did.
Then another gust of wind nearly knocked him down.
“This way!” Nettleton cried.
Patrick turned. His eye caught something moving on the beach. Parts of the cannibals’ giant canoe raft washed up on the shore.
“Look!” Patrick shouted at Nettleton.
“What ye be waitin’ for?” Nettleton shouted. “Grab ’em!”
Patrick ran to the beach. He tugged at the smallest canoe, but it was heavy. Nettleton joined him. Together they dragged two canoes up the beach.
“We’ll turn ’em around so the hollow parts be away from the wind!” Nettleton shouted. “Then we’ll wedge ’em between the trees.
“There are baskets tied down inside,” Patrick said.
“We’ll open ’em in the mornin’,” Nettleton said. “Now, help me.”
They worked hard and got the job done.
The canoes were now mini-shelters.
Nettleton crawled into one canoe.
Patrick climbed into the other. He had to share the space with the baskets tied down with heavy rope. He didn’t mind. He was protected from most of the wind and rain.
Patrick remembered to thank God for bringing them this far safely. Then he fell asleep.
11
The Cave
Beth didn’t know how long it took them to get to the island. But it was dusk when they landed. She was thankful the rescue boat got there safely.
In the darkness of the storm, she had lost all sight of Patrick and Nettleton. The sailors on the rescue boat had to guess where they might have landed.
Beth hopped out of the boat. The wind and the waves knocked her around. Calvert took her arm to hold her steady. They clutched the tarp around them.
She thought she heard the sound of drums. No, Beth thought, that must be thunder.
She reached the beach. She bent low to look for Patrick’s footprints in the sand. But the wind and rain had smoothed away any signs of life.
The sailors unloaded the cargo from the boat. Calvert pulled away from Beth. He left the tarp hanging from her shoulders.
He went to the men and called out, “This way! I know where there’s a cave!”
Calvert led the way through the trees. The soldiers and sailors carried the barrels and trunk.
Beth looked around for Patrick. Sergeant Dunn and three other soldiers held up their rifles. Beth wondered if they expected to be attacked. She also wondered if the rifles would fire in all of this rain.
They came to the bottom of a hill. Tucked inside a tangle of branches and vines was a cave. The soldiers went in first to make sure it was safe. Then they signaled for everyone else to enter.
The cave was dark and moist. It smelled moldy.
One of the sailors quickly opened the barrel lids. Inside them were dried meat, gunpowder, and water.
There was already a ring of stones on the floor of the cave. Two sailors used it to build a fire. They found dried tree branches scattered on one side of the cave.
Calvert and the men gathered at the back of the cave. Beth heard them talking about how to find Nettleton and Patrick. But no one was going out to look now. They would have to wait until morning.
Beth stood near the fire and warmed herself. She studied the cave by firelight. The rock walls were milk-colored with brown streaks. It reminded her of maple syrup.
Suddenly the cave was filled with shouts.
“Woi! Woi! Woi!”
“Bole! Bole!”
Beth spun around toward the mouth of the cave.
Six Fijians with big hair and bigger spears stood in the opening.
“Yi! Yi! Yi!” one of them shouted. Then he rushed in.
Beth screamed.
The Fijians yelled in return. The cave echoed with shouts and whoops.
Suddenly a shot was fired. Bam!
The Fijians froze as the sound exploded from wall to wall.
Beth clapped her hands over her ears. She dropped to the ground. She covered her head with her arms.
“Stop in the name of Her Majesty, Queen Victoria,” Sergeant Dunn shouted. “I command yo
u to drop your spears!”
Beth lifted her face from the dirt to watch.
The Fijians dropped their spears. Then they each dropped to one knee.
“Don’t shoot!” a Fijian man said in English. “We are Christians!”
Calvert worked his way to the cave entrance. “Don’t hurt them,” he said to the soldiers. “These men were my English students. And my friends.”
“Friends?” Dunn asked. “Why do they have spears? Why were they shouting?”
“Fijians are noisy people,” Calvert said. “They are just happy. As am I. And they have spears to defend themselves. They need protection from wild animals and Toki and his men.”
Calvert motioned for the Fijians to stand.
They stood up and left their spears at their feet. Calvert embraced the men one by one.
Beth stood up and moved closer to Sergeant Dunn. Calvert might be mistaken about the Fijians. If he was, she wanted to be close to the men with the rifles.
Calvert spoke to the Fijians in their own language. They gestured with their hands. They all seemed to talk at once.
Then there was silence. Beth realized they were looking at her. Their dark eyes were full of concern.
Calvert gazed at her too.
“What?” Beth asked. “Why is everyone looking at me?”
Calvert said, “The Fijian drums have given them news about Toki.”
“You mean they really send messages with drums?” Beth asked.
Calvert nodded, then said, “Toki is alive.”
“Then why was everyone looking at me?” Beth asked.
“Toki is hunting for Patrick and Nettleton,” Calvert said.
12
A Prisoner
Patrick woke when Nettleton gently shook him. “Get up,” Nettleton said. “I need yer help to make a fire. That way the ship’s watchmen will spot us.”
Patrick sat up straight. Thud! He banged his head on the inside of the canoe.
“Ouch,” Patrick said. He rubbed his head as he crawled out of the canoe.
Battle for Cannibal Island Page 3