CHAPTER XI
THE CACHE
When she lay down that night on the hard sand, with the sailclothbeneath her head, she could not sleep. The wretchedness of having to liedown fully dressed, of being unable to change her clothes, fell on herlike a blight.
She lay fighting the problem. It was impossible to go on like this. Onemight live with little food, but to live always without undressing andchanging one's things was impossible. This problem was insoluble, orseemed so. Then she found a half solution. She would discard herstockings and under garments, make a bundle of them and put them underthe sailcloth, she would not wear them again, she would suffer fromcold, no matter, anything was better than that feeling of being fullydressed always. The weather, besides, was fairly warm. She would learnto do without shoes as well as without stockings. She would have to goabout without shoes or stockings. She thought of the men. Strangelyenough the thought of going about without shoes or stockings seemed lessrepulsive to her than the thought of going about with her hair loose.
As she lay revolving this business in her mind the whale birds flittingabout in the darkness outside suddenly ceased their crying and throughthe silence came a vague mysterious sound that deepened into a humminglike the drone of a gigantic top; the humming became a roar, the roar ofrain. Rain falling in solid sheets, coming across the land like a movingNiagara, now taking the beach and now the sea. Never had she heard suchrain as this, falling in the black and utter darkness. The shelve of thebeach saved the cave from being flooded and the beetling of the cliffkept it dry and within a couple of feet of the entrance but it could notkeep out the rain smell, the raw smell of Kerguelen carried from inland,the smell of bog patches and new washed dolerite and bitter vegetation,keen, like the smell of the Stone Age. Then after a bit the first greatonslaught slackened.
The girl raised herself on her elbow, then she rose and cast off theoilskin coat that had served for a blanket. She undressed in thedarkness, made a bundle of her stockings and her Jaeger underclothes andplaced them beneath the sailcloth, then removing the comb from her hairand letting it fall she came out into the blackness and stood in thetorrential rain.
It beat on her head and shoulders and breast, it cascaded down herlimbs, soothing as the hand of mesmerism, refreshing, delightful beyondwords, then she came back into the cave and, finding the cotton waste,dried herself as well as she could, dried her hair and twisted it intoa knot, put on her blouse, coat and skirt and covered herself with theoilskin.
She had solved the question of a bath and change of clothes, at leastfor the moment. The discomfort of the rough tweed of the skirt againsther unprotected limbs, of the hard bed, of the sailcloth pillow withits vague smell of canvas and jute, all these were nothing to that otherdiscomfort. These were physical, that was psychical.
She fell asleep and slept till long after dawn. When she came out therain had ceased and through air fresh as though from the hand ofCreation vast clouds were rolling away towards the islands over ablue-green sea.
They had made a fire on the night before and had cooked some of themussels in the baling tin, the rest had been put by to cook forbreakfast; hot food of any sort is a revelation if you have beencondemned to live on cold stuff for any time, but this morning there wasto be nothing hot. The firewood, one of the bottom boards of the boatchopped up, had been left out in the rain. The sight of it, all soaked,made the girl forget her bare feet and her hair roughly tied up in aknot. The housekeeper that lives in every woman rose up in revolt, allthe more so as the guilty ones tried to defend themselves.
"As for me," said La Touche, "I was listening to the rain, it droveeverything else out of my head."
"That is so," said Bompard, "I thought every moment we would be floodedout. It was no time for a man to be thinking of firewood."
"Well, you will have no fire and nothing hot," said Cleo, "and thosemussels will be wasted--they won't keep, but there's no use in sayingany more about it--only you must learn to think of things. It's notpleasant, I know, to have to look ahead but one has to do it. You see Iam not wearing my boots and stockings, boots wear out and stockings wearout quicker, so I just looked ahead last night and said to myself--'yourstockings will soon be worn into holes, so you must begin now to learnto do without them.' It's not pleasant, but it has to be done. If thatship we ran into had looked ahead we would not have been wrecked."
"That is true," said Bompard, anxious to get off the main subject. "Ifthose chaps had eyes in their heads they wouldn't be feeding thefishes."
"It wasn't all their fault," put in La Touche. "If those chaps on thebridge hadn't put the engines on we wouldn't have rammed her as we did."
"Well," said Cleo, "there is no use in going back over things. We haveto get breakfast and then go and open the cache."
She had told them of the cache overnight and, to her wonder, the thinghad interested them, so this morning when they had finished theirbiscuits and beef she found not the slightest difficulty in making themstart.
She put on her boots for the journey and then they reeled along thebeach in the usual order, Cleo first, the two others following; thegreat skull made them halt and discuss it for a moment but thefigure-head when they reached it held them entirely in its spell.
She could scarcely tear them away, they discussed it from every point ofview, argued over it, pondered over it and were only brought to theirsenses by a hint that it would have to be chopped up for firewood.
Then, when they reached the cache, there was another long pause fordiscussion, the two sitting down to smoke whilst they talked it over.
It was not till she set to work pulling more stones away that they beganto get busy; then when once started they laboured like negroes. Theglimpse of the barrel end seemed to inflame them, but indeed they didnot want even that, for the business they had set their hands to had allthe fascination of treasure hunting mixed with the thrills ofhouse-breaking. Here was "stuff," plunder of some sort, who could tellwhat?
An hour and a half of labour brought them sweating to the end of thebusiness and the presiding gulls saw exposed to the light of day two bigbarrels, two long cases and an amount of canned meat and vegetablesenough to stock a small shop, also a harpoon of the old type and twoshovels placed by the long cases. Then after a rest of half an hour thebarrels were sampled. One contained flour, the other blankets and mens'clothes, sweaters and coats and trousers. One of the long casescontained kitchen utensils and tin cups and plates, also knives andforks and spoons.
The other contained "comforts," tea and coffee and sugar in sealed tins,some rolls of tobacco, drugs and a few surgical instruments. All theequipment, in fact, necessary for an expedition of a dozen men for sixmonths. Not a drop of liquor.
Perhaps that was why the girl was more overjoyed by the details of thefind than the mariners.
Bompard openly expressed his mind.
"Not a bottle of wine or a drop of rum, swabs."
"Well, you've got some tobacco," said Cleo, "and there's tea and coffeeand cups and saucers, and a teapot--no coffeepot--well one can makecoffee in anything--" She was running over the stores in her mind,standing, reviewing them with no thought of anything else and her soulfilled with a joy and satisfaction absolutely new.
Blankets! Tea! Coffee! and clothes--even mens' clothes if it came to theworst. One might have fancied her to have fixed definitely in her mindthat she was to spend a very long time on the shores of Kerguelen and tohave accepted the terrible prospect with equanimity. It was not so. Shewas living in the moment, so entirely in the moment that these thingswere tremendous and vivid and compared with them Art, Music, Religion,Ambition, and the gauds of Civilization were as nothing.
This power to live in the moment is the form of strength that bringsmen through battles and women through adversity. It fells cities andbuilds them. On Kerguelen it is salvation. For, here to think of thefuture, unless in terms of material necessities, to dream, to brood,means death or madness.
But Bompard and La Touche, resting th
emselves after their labours, werenot living in the moment nor in the past nor in the present, they wereliving in that strange sad land called the Might-Have-Been. They mighthave been in the way to a jolly booze by now if that fool whoprovisioned the cache had not forgotten the drink. They were thankfulfor nothing. They had food, they had clothes, they had tobacco. Theywere glad enough of the blankets, but even the thought of the blanketscould not relieve their depression.
They were not drunkards, but the cache had given them hopes of drinks.These hopes shattered they sat like discontented children who had beenpromised sweets and disappointed.
But this did not last long, the Hopeless is its own antidote and afterhalf a pipe of tobacco their cheerfulness, such as it was, returned andthey fell to discussing with the girl the best way of treating thestores.
Bompard, considering the difficulty of transporting the stuff to thecaves, proposed that they should move their abode right up to the cache.
Cleo pointed out that there were no caves here, so, unless they movedthe caves as well as their belongings, they would have nowhere to sleepin.
"I think the best thing we can do," said she, "is to take what we wantand then cover up the rest till we want some more."
"Put the stuff under the rocks again?" asked Bompard.
"Yes."
"Mon Dieu!" said La Touche.
It was not what he said but the way he said it that angered the girl.
La Touche was a problem in her mind. She could understand Bompard butshe could not quite understand La Touche. It seemed to her that he wasone of those people who without much intelligence, yet, or perhapsbecause of that fact, make fine centres of rebellion. She could fancyhim leading a mob to tear down something that vexed him, and everythingseemed to vex him, at times.
But though she was not clear about La Touche she was quite clear aboutherself and she was determined to be his master. She felt instinctivelythat he was the leader of Bompard and that Bompard alone would have beena much better individual, in many respects.
"There is no use in saying 'Mon Dieu,'" said she, "the thing has to bedone. The gulls and the rabbits will ruin everything if we leave thingsabout. Come, Bompard."
Bompard rose up at the order and began to assist in sorting out thethings they were to take back with them. Then La Touche, not to be outof the business and perhaps ashamed of himself, or of his position as anidler, joined in.
Had she given the order direct to him he might have revolted; she hadconquered him for the moment none the less.
First they began to sort out the things to be kept for immediate use. Asaucepan, three tin cups, three tin plates, knives and forks, the teapotand kettle, a canister of tea, sugar and salt. The canned stuff,including thirty cans of vegetables, Cleo left untouched. She determinedto keep it in reserve and depend upon the cabbage plants, one of whichBompard had brought back yesterday.
Then came the question of the flour, that too must be kept in reserveand the opening they had made in the top of the barrel closed upproperly. This operation took time and was conducted with a good deal ofgrumbling which fell on deaf ears. The thing was done and that was themain thing. Four blankets were taken from the other barrel and that toowas closed. Then with the shovels the whole lot was sanded over and therocks replaced, the girl helping in the work as well as directing.
When everything was finished they made three bundles, using the blanketsas holdalls, and started back.
It was now noon and the breeze that had been blowing ever since dawn haddied away, but great clouds were banking up over the islands, vast,solemn, leaden-coloured clouds rolling up from the far sea and pilingone on the other like alps on alps.
They had nearly reached the caves when a roll of thunder like the ruffleof muffled drums came over the water, but they got under shelter beforethe rain began to fall, just a few heavy drops, at first, and then in amoment a cataract.
The islands vanished, the sea vanished to within a few hundred yards ofthe beach, the voices of the gulls and the breaking of the waves becamemerged and vague in the hiss of the sheeting rain.
"The chaps that left the truck in that cask forgot to shove in someoilskins," said La Touche as he undid his load.
Cleo had come into the men's cave to help to unpack. Half-way back shehad taken her boots off. Owing to the absence of stockings her rightheel had become chafed and she had taken them off determining not towear them any more. She was kneeling now, bare-footed, taking the thingsfrom Bompard's bundle and La Touche's remark made her look up. It wasthe tone rather than the words that irritated her. The recollection ofan oilskin coat which she had used when fishing in Norway the yearbefore rose in her mind. It had been put away for a long time and whentaken out had been found all stuck up and quite ruined.
"You can't be much of a sailor," said she, "not to know that oilskindoesn't stand packing. The men who buried these things did. If they hadknown that you were so particular about rain they might have put in anumbrella."
Dead silence followed this thrust of the tongue which she instantlyregretted, not because of hurting La Touche's feelings, but because sheinstantly felt that it had helped to widen the division between her andher mates. The extraordinary fact was that she, having assumed theresponsibility of office, was, seemingly, held responsible by the othersfor all unpleasant happenings; she felt that the rain of Kerguelen wasnow, in a way, being laid at her door.
Then, again, she had singled out La Touche as a direct opponent. Shefelt that he and she were already matching each other and there waslikely to be a struggle between them for dominance.
Women have been gifted above men with an instinctive knowledge ofcharacter. She divined in La Touche a character weak yet capable ofviolence, incapable of leading yet jealous of being led, and especiallyof being led by a woman. That was the danger point.
However, there was no use in trying to say anything smooth and she wenton with her work, helping to stow the things and, when that wasfinished, taking off two of the blankets to her own cave.
A fire was impossible owing to the rain so they dined off biscuits andcanned stuff, cold.
Bompard and La Touche on this little expedition had discovered a watersource only a quarter of a mile inland, a deep pond cut in the rocksand fed by the rains. Bompard referred to it as he ate.
"But as long as the boat holds together," said he, "we don't want tobother about water; she'll catch and hold all we want. I've heard tellit rains here months on end."
"When it's not blowing," said La Touche. Cleo said nothing. It came toher almost as a new impression that conversation as we know it wasalmost impossible with her companions. They had no outlook over anythingbut the material and they seemed to see nothing but the black side ofthings. She felt also that any attempt to rally them and cheer themwould be dumbly resented and would only help to widen even more thedivision between her and them.
When the meal was finished she put the plates out in the rain to washthem. Then a bright idea came to her and getting the roll of wire sheasked La Touche to shew her how to make rabbit snares.
La Touche took the roll of wire and held it in his hands for a moment.
"This is all very well," said he, "but where is your wire cutters?"
They had nothing to cut the wire with, and he seemed to look on the factas a triumph of his own cleverness over Cleo's, till Bompard intervenedand shewed how, by knotting the wire and pulling hard, a break might bemade. This accomplished, and three lengths of wire having beenprocured, the surly one proceeded to make a snare and to demonstrate howit might be set.
At the end of the business the girl regretted that she had ever startedit. She had put herself under the tuition of La Touche and allowed theintimacy of master and pupil, allowed even in this slight way that hewas her superior.
A yelling wind from the mountains arose that afternoon and drove therain away across the islands. It held for half an hour and then of asudden ceased and a howling wind from the islands rose and drove therain back again towards the mo
untains.
The sea suddenly seemed to go mad, with cross currents meeting. Wavesseemed fighting waves and the gulls seemed filled with the generaltorment, clanging and blowing about hither and thither like leaves inautumn.
Cleo went to her cave and wrapping herself in one of the blankets, withthe other folded double to lie upon, took her place upon the floor withher head on the sailcloth.
It was her first really bad moment. Her first moment of real depression.The rain and the fact that their position as regarded food was secure,so that there was nothing to fight against at the moment, conspired tooverthrow her.
Hitherto she had fought bravely and the struggle had kept her up; thesudden easing of the situation had brought new forces against her. Timesuddenly appeared before her eyes asking: "How are you to kill me? Youcan't, you have no weapons. Would you like a book? Would you likeembroidery work to do, companions to talk with, music to listen to?Fate, under the name of civilization, gave you all these and more, theyhave been taken from you and now you see me as I am, the great terror."
She fought this Bogey by thinking of La Touche. She had raised La Toucheagainst herself. She knew that something in herself had risen against LaTouche.
She felt that his respect for a woman of the higher classes was, asregarded herself, wearing thin, owing to propinquity. That he resentedbeing "bossed" by a woman, that her superior quickness of mind andenergy vexed him and that one day he would try to master her. He was ofthe type that is too mean to rule, yet hates to be ruled. There was alsothe jealousy of the male at the superiority of the female. She wasphysically weaker than he, a fact that means little in civilized lifewhere power is in the hands of Order, but which means everything inprimitive life. And they were steadily drifting to the primitive.
These thoughts, troublesome enough, were still excellent in their way.They gave her occupation for her mind.
Then she fell asleep, awaking towards evening to find Bompard at thecave mouth telling her that supper was ready.
The Beach of Dreams: A Romance Page 11