Mother Carey's Chicken Part 45

The position seemed painful and tiresome to Mark, for the captain was so unreasonable; he kept on scolding him in a gruff voice for not getting up to dig out the stowaway, who by some singular arrangement was deep down in the hold below the packages of cargo, and at the same time standing at the foot of the bed with a handkerchief tied round his head, looking wistfully at him, as if appealing to him to come and use the caddy-spoon, and yet the captain would not get up.

It was a terrible trouble to Mark, for his reason told him that his father's conduct in sitting upon him was absurd and bad for his chest, and yet all the while he felt that his father must know best.

But then there was the little brittle caddy-spoon. He wanted to think it was correct; but his reason told him it was absurd to attempt to dig up a man with such a pitiful tool. If his father would only have got off his chest and reasoned with him he would not have cared; but here he was, a big heavy man, squatted just upon the top b.u.t.ton of his waistcoat, his legs drawn up, his knees at his chin, and his face staring right into Mark's.

It was no wonder that the lad felt in a perspiration, and was ready to reproach his mother for not a.s.sisting him in what was minute by minute growing a more painful position; but Mrs Strong did not stir; the captain kept up in constant repet.i.tion his scolding apostrophe, and the stowaway looked more dismal than ever.

Mark tried to change his position a little so as to get ease, for the heels of the captain's boots were very hard, but to move was impossible, try how he would. He wanted to speak, but the words would not come; the oppression on his chest grew more terrible; and at last, unable to bear it any longer, he took hold of his father's thick, short, curly whiskers with both hands as he tried to thrust him away.

For response the captain uttered a low deep remonstrant growl, and Mark awoke, to find himself on his back holding Bruff's coat in his hands, and the dog protesting, for he found Mark's chest a comfortable place.

Jack had agreed with him, and the pair were cuddled up together in a sort of knot which rolled off on to the sand as the lad threw himself upon his side.

Mark lay panting and hot for some time, and then once more oblivion came over him, this time with no painful nightmare full of absurdities, but a deep heavy dreamless sleep, from which he started up in horror with that appalling roar ringing in his ears and dying away in the distance.

This was no delusion, for Bruff was standing beside him whining and s.h.i.+vering with terror, the monkey was grovelling in the sand, and all around there were eager voices inquiring:

"What was that?"

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

HOW THE AWFUL ROAR WAS CANVa.s.sED.

No one could tell what, or whence came the noise, but the terror it inspired was sufficient to chase away sleep from all. Everyone had been awakened, and the captain had at once gone to the watch, followed by Mark, after he had been to the end of the little tent and tried to give some comfort by telling its occupants that the noise came from some wild beast in the jungle.

Mr Gregory and Small were on the alert. They had had a perfectly quiet watch till just then, as they were noticing the first signs of daybreak, when, increasing in volume and then dying away, there came this appalling roar.

"Just the same as we heard, eh, Mark?" said the major, coming up.

"Yes, just the same."

"Well, Gregory, what do you make it?" said the captain, who had rather doubted before.

"Don't know--some beast of the forest."

"You have heard nothing before?"

"Not a sound. Small thinks it must be a lion."

"Well, something of that kind, sir. I once heered a lion make such a row that he nearly blew off the roof of his cage! but it wasn't quite the same as this here, as is hollerer."

"Well," said the captain, "it can't be a lion; and as it does not seem disposed to molest us we must be--"

He stopped short, for there was a low moan from the same direction as that in which they had heard the cry.

"Is that something it has killed?" whispered Mark in an awe-stricken voice.

The captain did not answer; and as all listened for a repet.i.tion of the sounds the day began to dawn rapidly, the birds twittered and piped, and shrieked at the edge of the jungle, while flecks of orange and scarlet appeared high up in the sky.

Then a low murmur of admiration burst from the group as they saw a roseate cloud upon the top of the conical mountain begin to glow and burst into a dozen tints of purple and gold, shot with the most effulgent hues; and then slowly there was a glowing point to be seen just above the cloud, which circled it like a ring of gorgeously-coloured vapour; then slowly the light descended the mountain till from top to bottom it was aglow with purple and green and orange; and they turned sharply, to see that the sun was just rolling up over the smooth sea, spreading a pathway of light from the horizon to the isle.

So glorious was the scene, as the light wreaths of mist above the purple rolled away, that the terrible awakening from sleep was forgotten, and a spirit of thankfulness that they had been saved from the sea to land in such a paradise filled the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of all.

Beauty is beauty, but the loveliest scene is soon forgotten by a hungry man. Rest, freedom from peril, wounds and bruises amending, and the fact that the previous day's supply had been very short, combined to make everybody ravenous; and the captain, though without a s.h.i.+p, had his hands full.

He satisfied himself that Morgan and the sailor were better, the fever having abated, and then gave his orders shortly.

Two men were set to make a fire, two more to cut down a cocoa-nut tree that was of small size and yet bore several fruits.

The major and Widgeon started off along the sh.o.r.e with a biscuit-bag to collect sh.e.l.l-fish, and at the muddy exit of a tiny stream came upon quite a swarm of little crabs, who challenged them to fight--so Billy afterwards said--by snapping their claws at them and flouris.h.i.+ng them above their heads as they retreated to their holes.

Mark and Small provided themselves with a bag of bivalves for bait and went off to the boat to fish.

Lastly, the captain and the ladies walked to the edge of the jungle in search of fruit, while the former shot a few birds.

The morning was delightful, and Mark and Small were soon afloat, to Billy Widgeon's intense disgust, for it had been his full intention to take Mark's place and form one of the fis.h.i.+ng party.

Mark soon had a line ready, and after opening some of the sh.e.l.l-fish with his knife baited a couple of hooks and waited till the boatswain had piloted the boat to where there was an opening in the reef and the sea was setting into the lagoon.

"Now, lookye here, my lad," said Small; "when I was a boy I used to fish in the mill-dam at the back of our cottage, and I always found as there was most fish where the stream set in or came out. Now that's deep water, and I'll hold on to the bit of rock here while you chuck in; and if you don't get a bite we'll try somewheres else."

He laid in the oar, and taking the boat-hook had no difficulty in taking hold of the coral, which was only a couple of feet below, and Mark made his first cast right into the running current.

It was a good throw, and he stooped down and picked up the loose rings, to lay them out quite neatly and wind some of the superabundant line about the little frame, when there was a whiz over the side, the line darted out, there was a painful sensation of cutting, a jerk at the lad's arm as if it were about to be dragged out of the socket, and--that was all!

"Well, you hooked him," said Small grimly. "He must have been a big un."

"Big?--a monster!" cried Mark excitedly. "He must have broken the line."

"Haul in and bait again," said Small; and as the line was drawn in it was found that there was no breakage, but the soft metal hook had bent out nearly straight and torn from the fish's mouth.

"It hurt my hand horribly," said Mark as he bent the damaged hook back into position; "but it must have hurt the fish more."

"Sarve him right, my lad!--he was on his way to kill and eat some other fish. That's it. Chuck out again, and this time let him have it easy, and if he's a big one give him time."

The carefully-baited hooks were thrown out again, and before the bait had sunk a couple of feet it was once more seized.

"Sha'n't starve here, my lad!" said Small gleefully.

"Not if we can catch the fish," said Mark, whose fingers were burning with the friction of the line. "I say, Small, is it a crocodile?"

"G'long with you! Crocodile!--no; it's not a very big one."

"But see how it pulls!" cried Mark as the fish continued its rush and would have been off, line and all, some twenty fathoms, if it had not been that the cord was securely fastened to the winder, which was suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hed from the bottom of the boat to fly with a rap against the lad's knuckles.

"Don't you let him go, Mr Mark, sir!" cried Small, who was as excited now as the lad. "Hold on! That's all our braxfusses."