Mother Carey's Chicken Part 69

"Mr Mark, ahoy!"

"Ahoy! This way!"

Another pause, with the rustling of leaves and twigs continued, and Billy's voice again:

"Ahoy, my lad! Where are you?"

"Here!"

There was a low muttering as if Billy were talking to himself, and then another shout.

"Here!" cried Mark again wearily.

"Oh, there you are--are you?" cried the little sailor, struggling at last to his side. "I thought I was never going to get back. More you tries to find your way, more you loses it. I never see such a mess in my life! Why don't they keep a gardener?"

Wretched as he was, hot, weary, and smarting and stinging from scratches and p.r.i.c.ks, Mark could not help laughing at the little sailor's irritable manner.

"Ah, you may laugh, my lad, a-lying all so comfortable there! but if you'd had such a slip as I did off a rock, and came down sitting on a thorn as big as a marlin'-spike, you wouldn't show your white teeth like that!"

"But I did, Billy," cried Mark, going off into a wild roar of laughter; "and I'm horribly p.r.i.c.ked and torn. But never mind that. Did you find the way back to them?"

"Find your way back to 'em?--no. I never see such a muddle as the place is in. Every bit's like every other bit; and when you mark down one tree, meaning to come back to it, and do come back to it, why it's another tree just like the one you thought it was. I say, Mr Mark, sir, this place aren't 'chanted--is it?"

"Enchanted!--no. Why?"

"I d'know, only it's very queer like and puzzling. I can't make it out a bit."

"Why, how do you mean?"

"Mean as you can't seem to box the compa.s.s like, and don't know which way to steer, sir. I feels as if I should give it up."

"Give it up! What nonsense! Let's rest a few minutes and start again."

"Oh, I don't mind resting, sir; but I don't want to have to sleep out here. Why, we've got nothing to eat, and no lights, and--no, I sha'n't sit down, Mr Mark, sir. I don't want to disobey orders, but seems to me as we'd better get back to what you called Gutta-percha Road."

"Now, look here, Billy, how can you be so stupid?" cried Mark pettishly.

"You know I want to get back; but which way are we to go?"

"Tell you what, sir, let's cooey," cried Billy, giving his leg a slap.

"That's the proper thing to do when you're out in the woods."

"Well, cooey, then," said Mark. "Go on."

"No, sir; you'd better do it," said Billy modestly. "I aren't practysed it much."

"Never mind; go on."

"I'd a deal rather you would, Mr Mark, sir."

"But I can't. I never did such a thing in my life."

"Well, if it comes to that, sir, more didn't I."

"And you said you hadn't practised much."

"Well, sir, I haven't," said Billy coolly.

"Billy, you're a sham," said Mark angrily.

"All right, sir! I don't mind."

"You get one into a muddle like this, and then are no use at all."

"No, sir. That's about it," said Billy coolly, and all the time as serious as a judge. "I wish we'd got Jack here!"

"What's the good of him?--to send up the trees after cocoa-nuts?"

"Now, now, now, Mr Mark, sir, don't be hard on a fellow! I did think as he'd send some down; and I believe now as he wouldn't because I give him a cuff o' the head that morning for sucking the end o' my hankychy."

"Here, come along, and let's keep together."

"All right, sir!"

"Let's get up to the top of that rock first. I think that's where we came down."

"Nay, nay, Mr Mark, sir. I'm sure as that wasn't the way. It was up that one."

"I'm certain it was not, Billy. It was this. Come along."

"All right, Mr Mark, sir! If you says that's right, it's quite enough for me. I'll go anywheres you likes to lead; and I can't say fairer than that--can I?"

"No, Billy," said Mark; "so come along."

He led the way, and they climbed by the help of the bushes and aerial roots of the trees right to the top of the rugged bank of rock he had marked down in his mind's eye as being the way; and as soon as they were there they stopped and listened.

"Perhaps they're looking for us," he said.

"Shouldn't wonder, Mr Mark, sir."

But though they listened there was no shout, no distant sound to suggest that a search was being made.

"You talk about Jack," said Mark; "I wish we had got poor old Bruff here! He would find the way home."

"But you see, Mr Mark, sir, it aren't no use to wish. Lawk a me! sir, the number o' things I've wished for in my life--'bacco, knives, a silver watch, silk hankychies, lots o' things, but I never got 'em."

"Never mind them now. Let's shout."

"With a will, then, sir, and put your back into it. One, two, three, and ahoy!"