Bert Wilson, Wireless Operator Part 13

"Why don't you do as I do, pick things up and look for them afterward?"

he said, excitedly.

"What is it? What did you find?" queried Bert, who was more inclined to be sure of his ground before he became enthusiastic. "It looks a good deal like any other old memorandum book, as far as I can see."

"All right, then, we'll read it and see what _is_ in it," replied Tom.

"Why, it's a record of somebody's life on the island here. I suppose maybe you think that's nothing to find, huh?"

Without waiting for a reply he started to read the mildewed old book, and Bert and d.i.c.k read also, over his shoulder.

The first entry was dated about a month previous to the time of reading, and seemed to be simply a rough jotting down of the important events in the castaway's life for future reference. There were records of the man, whoever he might be, having found the spring beside which he had built the hut in which they were now standing; of his having erected the rude shelter, and a good many other details.

The three boys read the scribbled account with breathless interest, as Tom turned over page after page. "Come on, skip over to the last page,"

said Bert at last, "we can read all this some other time, and I'm crazy to know what happened to the fellow, whoever he is. Maybe he's written that down, too, since he seems to be so methodical."

In compliance with this suggestion, Tom turned to the last written page of the note-book, and what the boys read there caused them to gasp. It was scribbled in a manner that indicated furious haste, and read as follows:

"Whoever you are who read this, for heaven's sake come to my aid, if it is not too late. Last night I was awakened by having my throat grasped in a grip of iron, and before I could even start to struggle I was bound securely. By the light of torches held by my captors I could see that I was captured by a band of black-skinned savages. After securing me beyond any chance of escape, they paid little further attention to me, and held what was apparently a conference regarding my disposal. Finally they made preparations to depart, but first cooked a rude meal and my hands were unbound to enable me to eat. At the first opportunity I scrawled this account, in the hope that some party seeing my signal, might by chance find it, and be able to help me. As the savages travel I will try to leave some trace of our progress, so you can follow us. I only hope--" but here the message ended suddenly, leaving the boys to draw their own conclusions as to the rest of it.

For a few moments they gazed blankly into each other's faces, and uttered never a word. Bert was the first to break the silence.

"I guess it's up to us, fellows," he said, and the manly lines of his face hardened. "We've got to do something to help that poor devil, and the sooner we start the better. According to the dates in this book it must have been last Thursday night that he was captured, and this is Monday. If we hurry we may be able to trace him up and do something for him before it's too late."

The thought that they themselves might be captured or meet with a horrible death did not seem to enter the head of one of them. They simply saw plainly that it was, as Bert had said, "up to them" to do the best they could under the circ.u.mstances, and this they proceeded to do without further loss of time.

"The first thing to do," said Bert, "is to scout around and see if we can find the place where the savages left the clearing with their prisoner. Then it will be our own fault if we cannot follow the trail."

This seemed more easily said than done, however, and it was some time before the three, fretting and impatient at the delay, were able to find any clue. At last Bert gave an exultant whoop and beckoned the others over to where he stood.

"I'll bet any amount of money this is where they entered the jungle," he said, exultantly. "Their prisoner evidently evaded their observation while they were breaking a path through, and pinned this on the bush here," and he held up a corner of a white linen handkerchief, with the initial M embroidered on the corner.

"Gee, I guess you're right," agreed d.i.c.k. "Things like that don't usually grow on bushes. It ought to be easy for us to trace the party now."

This proved to be far from the actual case, however, and if it had not been for the occasional sc.r.a.ps of clothing fluttering from a twig or bush every now and then their search would have probably ended in failure. So rank and luxuriant is the jungle growth in tropical climates, that although in all probability a considerable body of men had pa.s.sed that way only a few days before, practically all trace of their progress was gone. The thick underbrush grew as densely as ever, and it would have seemed to one not skilled in woodland arts that the foot of man had never trod there. Monkeys chattered in the trees as they went along, and parrots with rainbow plumage shot among the lofty branches, uttering raucous cries. Humming clouds of mosquitoes rose and gathered about their heads, and added to the heat to make their journey one of torment.

Their previous experience as campers now stood them in good stead, and they read without much trouble signs of the progress of the party in front of them that they must surely have missed otherwise.

After three hours of dogged plodding, in which few words were exchanged, Bert said, "I don't think we can have very much further to go, fellows.

I remember the captain saying that this island was not more than a few miles across in any direction, and we must have traveled some distance already. We're bound to stumble on their camp soon, so we'd better be prepared."

"Probably by this time," said Tom, "the savages will have returned to the mainland, or some other island from which they came. I don't think it very likely that they live permanently on this one. It seems too small."

"Yes, I thought of that," said Bert, "but we've got to take our chance on that. If they are gone, there is nothing else we can do, and we can say we did our best, anyway."

"But what shall we do when we find them?" asked Tom, after a short pause, "provided, of course, that our birds haven't flown."

"Oh, we'll have to see how matters stand, and make our plans accordingly," replied Bert. "You fellows had better make sure your revolvers are in perfect order. I have a hunch that we'll need them before we get through with this business."

Fortunately, before leaving the s.h.i.+p the boys had, at Bert's suggestion, strapped on their revolvers, and each had slipped a handful of cartridges into their pockets.

"The chances are a hundred to one we won't need them at all," Bert had said at the time. "But if anything _should_ come up where we'll need them, we'll probably be mighty glad we brought them."

The boys were very thankful for this now, as without the trusty little weapons their adventure would have been sheer madness. As it was, however, the feel of the compact .45's was very rea.s.suring, and they felt that they would at least have a fighting chance, if worse came to worst, and they were forced to battle for their lives.

CHAPTER XIII

THE HUNTING WOLVES

They advanced more cautiously now, with every sense alert to detect the first sign of any lurking savage. They had not proceeded far in this manner when Bert, who was slightly in the lead, motioned with his hand in back of him for them to stop. This they did, almost holding their breath the while, trying to make out what Bert had seen or heard.

For several seconds he stood the very picture of attention and concentration, and then turned to them.

"What is it, Bert, do you see anything?" inquired d.i.c.k, in a subdued but tense whisper.

"Not a thing as yet," answered Bert, in the same tone, "but I thought I smelled smoke, and if I did, there must be a camp-fire of some kind not very far away. Don't you fellows smell it?"

Both sniffed the air, and as a slight breeze suddenly blew against their faces, Tom said, "Gee, Bert, I smell it now!"

"So do I!" said d.i.c.k, almost at the same instant, and the hearts of all three began to beat hard. They had evidently trailed the party of savages to their camp, and now they had something of the feeling of the lion hunter who suddenly comes unexpectedly upon his quarry and is not quite certain what to do with it when cornered. Needless to say, they had never faced any situation like this before, and it is not to be wondered at if they felt a little nervous over attempting to take a prisoner out from the midst of a savage camp, not even knowing what might be the force or numbers of the enemy they would have to cope with.

This feeling was but momentary, however, and almost immediately gave place to a fierce excitement and a wild exultation at the prospect of danger and conflict against odds. Each knew the others to be true and staunch to their heart's core, and as much to be relied on as himself.

They felt sure that at least they were capable of doing as much or more than anybody else under the circ.u.mstances, and so the blood pounded through their veins and their eyes sparkled and danced as they drew together to hold a "council of war."

There was little to be discussed, however, as they all three felt that the only thing to do was to "face the music and see the thing through to the finish," as Bert put it.

Accordingly they shook hands, and drew their revolvers, so as to be ready for any emergency at a moment's notice. Then, with Bert once more in the lead, they took up their interrupted march. For all the noise they made, they might have been the savages themselves. Their early training in camp and field now proved invaluable, and not a twig cracked or a leaf rustled at their cautious approach. Soon a patch of light in front of them indicated a break in the jungle, and they crouched double as they advanced. Suddenly Bert made a quick motion with his hand, and darted like a streak into the underbrush at the side of the trail. The others did likewise, and not a moment too soon. A crackling of the undergrowth cluttering the path announced the approach of a considerable body of men, and in a few moments the boys, from their place of concealment, where they could look out from the leafy underbrush with little chance of being seen, saw a party of eight or ten dusky warriors pa.s.s by, apparently bent on foraging, for each carried a large bag slung over his shoulder.

They were big, splendidly built men, but their faces indicated a very low order of intelligence. Their features were large, coa.r.s.e, and brutish, and the boys were conscious of a shudder pa.s.sing over them as they thought of being at the mercy of such creatures.

The savages seemed in a good humor just then, however, for every once in a while they laughed among themselves, evidently at something humorous one of them was reciting. It was well for our heroes that they were so, for otherwise they could hardly have failed to notice signs of their recent presence on the trail. Fortunately this did not happen, however, and soon they were swallowed up in the dense jungle.

Shortly afterward the boys emerged from their places of concealment, and resumed their slow advance. They were soon at the edge of the clearing, and then halted to reconnoitre before venturing further.

The savages were encamped in a natural hollow, and had apparently made arrangements for quite a protracted visit. They had constructed rude huts or lean-tos of branches and leaves, scattered at any place that seemed convenient. Naked children shouted noisily as they played and rolled on the green turf, and made such a noise that the parrots in the woods were frightened, and flew away with disgusted squawks.

In the center of the encampment were two huts evidently constructed with more care than the others, and around both were squatted sentries with javelins lying on the ground within easy reach.

"I'll bet any money they are keeping their prisoner in one of those shacks, fellows," said Bert, "but what do you suppose the other one is for? It looks bigger than the others."

"Oh, that's probably the king's palace," said d.i.c.k. "Compared to the rest of those hovels it almost looks like one, at that."

"That's what it is, all right," agreed Tom, "but how are we going to tell which one is the prisoner's, and which the king's? We don't want to go and rescue the wrong one, you know."

"No danger of that," said Bert. "All we've got to do is to lie low a little while and see what's going on down there. We'll find out how matters stand soon enough."

Accordingly, the trio concealed themselves as best they could, and in whispers took council on the best means of bringing about the release of the captive.