III
"My word! I couldn't help liking the chap," would shout Lingard whentelling the story; and looking around at the eyes that glittered at himthrough the smoke of cheroots, this Brixham trawler-boy, afterward ayouth in colliers, deep-water man, gold-digger, owner and commander of"the finest brig afloat," knew that by his listeners--seamen, traders,adventurers like himself--this was accepted not as the expression of afeeling, but as the highest commendation he could give his Malay friend.
"By heavens! I shall go to Wajo!" he cried, and a semicircle ofheads nodded grave approbation while a slightly ironical voice saiddeliberately--"You are a made man, Tom, if you get on the right side ofthat Rajah of yours."
"Go in--and look out for yourself," cried another with a laugh.
A little professional jealousy was unavoidable, Wajo, on account of itschronic state of disturbance, being closed to the white traders; butthere was no real ill-will in the banter of these men, who, rising withhandshakes, dropped off one by one. Lingard went straight aboard hisvessel and, till morning, walked the poop of the brig with measuredsteps. The riding lights of ships twinkled all round him; the lightsashore twinkled in rows, the stars twinkled above his head in a blacksky; and reflected in the black water of the roadstead twinkled farbelow his feet. And all these innumerable and shining points wereutterly lost in the immense darkness. Once he heard faintly the rumblingchain of some vessel coming to an anchor far away somewhere outsidethe official limits of the harbour. A stranger to the port--thoughtLingard--one of us would have stood right in. Perhaps a ship from home?And he felt strangely touched at the thought of that ship, weary withmonths of wandering, and daring not to approach the place of rest. Atsunrise, while the big ship from the West, her sides streaked with rustand grey with the salt of the sea, was moving slowly in to take upa berth near the shore, Lingard left the roadstead on his way to theeastward.
A heavy gulf thunderstorm was raging, when after a long passage and atthe end of a sultry calm day, wasted in drifting helplessly in sightof his destination, Lingard, taking advantage of fitful gusts of wind,approached the shores of Wajo. With characteristic audacity, he held onhis way, closing in with a coast to which he was a stranger, and on anight that would have appalled any other man; while at every dazzlingflash, Hassim's native land seemed to leap nearer at the brig--anddisappear instantly as though it had crouched low for the next springout of an impenetrable darkness. During the long day of the calm, he hadobtained from the deck and from aloft, such good views of the coast,and had noted the lay of the land and the position of the dangers socarefully that, though at the precise moment when he gave the order tolet go the anchor, he had been for some time able to see no furtherthan if his head had been wrapped in a woollen blanket, yet the nextflickering bluish flash showed him the brig, anchored almost exactlywhere he had judged her to be, off a narrow white beach near the mouthof a river.
He could see on the shore a high cluster of bamboo huts perched uponpiles, a small grove of tall palms all bowed together before the blastlike stalks of grass, something that might have been a palisadeof pointed stakes near the water, and far off, a sombre backgroundresembling an immense wall--the forest-clad hills. Next moment, all thisvanished utterly from his sight, as if annihilated and, before he hadtime to turn away, came back to view with a sudden crash, appearingunscathed and motionless under hooked darts of flame, like somelegendary country of immortals, withstanding the wrath and fire ofHeaven.
Made uneasy by the nature of his holding ground, and fearing that in oneof the terrific off-shore gusts the brig would start her anchor, Lingardremained on deck to watch over the safety of his vessel. With one handupon the lead-line which would give him instant warning of the brigbeginning to drag, he stood by the rail, most of the time deafenedand blinded, but also fascinated, by the repeated swift visions of anunknown shore, a sight always so inspiring, as much perhaps by its vaguesuggestion of danger as by the hopes of success it never fails to awakenin the heart of a true adventurer. And its immutable aspect of profoundand still repose, seen thus under streams of fire and in the midst of aviolent uproar, made it appear inconceivably mysterious and amazing.
Between the squalls there were short moments of calm, while now and theneven the thunder would cease as if to draw breath. During one of thoseintervals. Lingard, tired and sleepy, was beginning to doze where hestood, when suddenly it occurred to him that, somewhere below, the seahad spoken in a human voice. It had said, "Praise be to God--" and thevoice sounded small, clear, and confident, like the voice of a childspeaking in a cathedral. Lingard gave a start and thought--I've dreamedthis--and directly the sea said very close to him, "Give a rope."
The thunder growled wickedly, and Lingard, after shouting to the men ondeck, peered down at the water, until at last he made out floating closealongside the upturned face of a man with staring eyes that gleamed athim and then blinked quickly to a flash of lightning. By that time allhands in the brig were wildly active and many ropes-ends had been thrownover. Then together with a gust of wind, and, as if blown on board, aman tumbled over the rail and fell all in a heap upon the deck. Beforeany one had the time to pick him up, he leaped to his feet, causing thepeople around him to step back hurriedly. A sinister blue glare showedthe bewildered faces and the petrified attitudes of men completelydeafened by the accompanying peal of thunder. After a time, as if tobeings plunged in the abyss of eternal silence, there came to their earsan unfamiliar thin, far-away voice saying:
"I seek the white man."
"Here," cried Lingard. Then, when he had the stranger, dripping andnaked but for a soaked waistcloth, under the lamp of the cabin, he said,"I don't know you."
"My name is Jaffir, and I come from Pata Hassim, who is my chief andyour friend. Do you know this?"
He held up a thick gold ring, set with a fairly good emerald.
"I have seen it before on the Rajah's finger," said Lingard, lookingvery grave.
"It is the witness of the truth I speak--the message from Hassimis--'Depart and forget!'"
"I don't forget," said Lingard, slowly. "I am not that kind of man. Whatfolly is this?"
It is unnecessary to give at full length the story told by Jaffir. Itappears that on his return home, after the meeting with Lingard,Hassim found his relative dying and a strong party formed to opposehis rightful successor. The old Rajah Tulla died late at night and--asJaffir put it--before the sun rose there were already blows exchanged inthe courtyard of the ruler's dalam. This was the preliminary fight of acivil war, fostered by foreign intrigues; a war of jungle and river,of assaulted stockades and forest ambushes. In this contest, bothparties--according to Jaffir--displayed great courage, and one of theman unswerving devotion to what, almost from the first, was a lost cause.Before a month elapsed Hassim, though still chief of an armed band, wasalready a fugitive. He kept up the struggle, however, with some vaguenotion that Lingard's arrival would turn the tide.
"For weeks we lived on wild rice; for days we fought with nothingbut water in our bellies," declaimed Jaffir in the tone of a truefire-eater.
And then he went on to relate, how, driven steadily down to the sea,Hassim, with a small band of followers, had been for days holding thestockade by the waterside.
"But every night some men disappeared," confessed Jaffir. "They wereweary and hungry and they went to eat with their enemies. We are onlyten now--ten men and a woman with the heart of a man, who are tonightstarving, and to-morrow shall die swiftly. We saw your ship afar allday; but you have come too late. And for fear of treachery and lest harmshould befall you--his friend--the Rajah gave me the ring and I crepton my stomach over the sand, and I swam in the night--and I, Jaffir, thebest swimmer in Wajo, and the slave of Hassim, tell you--his message toyou is 'Depart and forget'--and this is his gift--take!"
He caught hold suddenly of Lingard's hand, thrust roughly into it thering, and then for the first time looked round the cabin with wonderingbut fearless eyes. They lingered over the semicircle of bayonets andrested f
ondly on musket-racks. He grunted in admiration.
"Ya-wa, this is strength!" he murmured as if to himself. "But it hascome too late."
"Perhaps not," cried Lingard.
"Too late," said Jaffir, "we are ten only, and at sunrise we go out todie." He went to the cabin door and hesitated there with a puzzled air,being unused to locks and door handles.
"What are you going to do?" asked Lingard.
"I shall swim back," replied Jaffir. "The message is spoken and thenight can not last forever."
"You can stop with me," said Lingard, looking at the man searchingly.
"Hassim waits," was the curt answer.
"Did he tell you to return?" asked Lingard.
"No! What need?" said the other in a surprised tone.
Lingard seized his hand impulsively.
"If I had ten men like you!" he cried.
"We are ten, but they are twenty to one," said Jaffir, simply.
Lingard opened the door.
"Do you want anything that a man can give?" he asked.
The Malay had a moment of hesitation, and Lingard noticed the sunkeneyes, the prominent ribs, and the worn-out look of the man.
"Speak out," he urged with a smile; "the bearer of a gift must have areward."
"A drink of water and a handful of rice for strength to reach theshore," said Jaffir sturdily. "For over there"--he tossed his head--"wehad nothing to eat to-day."
"You shall have it--give it to you with my own hands," muttered Lingard.
He did so, and thus lowered himself in Jaffir's estimation for a time.While the messenger, squatting on the floor, ate without haste but withconsiderable earnestness, Lingard thought out a plan of action. In hisignorance as to the true state of affairs in the country, to saveHassim from the immediate danger of his position was all that he couldreasonably attempt. To that end Lingard proposed to swing out hislong-boat and send her close inshore to take off Hassim and his men. Heknew enough of Malays to feel sure that on such a night the besiegers,now certain of success, and being, Jaffir said, in possession ofeverything that could float, would not be very vigilant, especially onthe sea front of the stockade. The very fact of Jaffir having managedto swim off undetected proved that much. The brig's boat could--when thefrequency of lightning abated--approach unseen close to the beach, andthe defeated party, either stealing out one by one or making a rush in abody, would embark and be received in the brig.
This plan was explained to Jaffir, who heard it without the slightestmark of interest, being apparently too busy eating. When the last grainof rice was gone, he stood up, took a long pull at the water bottle,muttered: "I hear. Good. I will tell Hassim," and tightening the raground his loins, prepared to go. "Give me time to swim ashore," he said,"and when the boat starts, put another light beside the one that burnsnow like a star above your vessel. We shall see and understand. Anddon't send the boat till there is less lightning: a boat is bigger thana man in the water. Tell the rowers to pull for the palm-grove and ceasewhen an oar, thrust down with a strong arm, touches the bottom. Verysoon they will hear our hail; but if no one comes they must go awaybefore daylight. A chief may prefer death to life, and we who are leftare all of true heart. Do you understand, O big man?"
"The chap has plenty of sense," muttered Lingard to himself, and whenthey stood side by side on the deck, he said: "But there may be enemieson the beach, O Jaffir, and they also may shout to deceive my men. Solet your hail be Lightning! Will you remember?"
For a time Jaffir seemed to be choking.
"Lit-ing! Is that right? I say--is that right, O strong man?" Nextmoment he appeared upright and shadowy on the rail.
"Yes. That's right. Go now," said Lingard, and Jaffir leaped off,becoming invisible long before he struck the water. Then there was asplash; after a while a spluttering voice cried faintly, "Lit-ing! Ah,ha!" and suddenly the next thunder-squall burst upon the coast. In thecrashing flares of light Lingard had again and again the quick vision ofa white beach, the inclined palm-trees of the grove, the stockade bythe sea, the forest far away: a vast landscape mysterious andstill--Hassim's native country sleeping unmoved under the wrath and fireof Heaven.
The Rescue: A Romance of the Shallows Page 8