As It Was in the Beginning Part 13

With the withes thus provided to his hand, the cannon was bound upon the log he had hollowed a bit to receive it. This he knew to be crude and, perhaps, even quite insufficient, but the gun was, in any event, far too unwieldy for use against the tiger, unless the brute should deliberately pose as a target, in the clearing down below.

That mid-day the porcupine once more volunteered for dinner. His services were accepted. Grenville dispatched him with a club--and skinned him in the thicket. He was far too considerate of a woman's sensibilities to fetch the creature into camp, with his a.r.s.enal of spears still upon him. But the task of removing the hedgehog's hide was amazingly difficult.

Aware of two important facts--namely, that meat too freshly cooked is certain to be tough, while even fresh meat for three hours wrapped in paw-paw leaves becomes incredibly tender, Grenville lost no time, when the skinning was done, in thoroughly swaddling his "game." He had carved it up for more convenient handling. When he finally brought it for Elaine to see, it looked decidedly attractive.

"I shall save some sc.r.a.ps for bait," he said. "To-morrow we'll try for fish."

What with carving a number of tough, wooden hooks, preparing some line from various fibers, and supplying new fuel to the flames that were firing his needed potteries, his remaining hours were full.

At length, in preparation for their dinner of meat, he went below, dug a hole somewhat laboriously in the sand and earth of the clearing, and started another brisk fire in the hollow thus created, Elaine tossing down a few glowing twigs for the purpose.

And how brave she looked, he paused to note, as she came to the brink to be of this much a.s.sistance! How beautiful she was--and how delicate she seemed, to be cast into such conditions! Despite her st.u.r.diness of heart and limb, she had always been tenderly reared. How far might she go, enduring this life, reduced to savagery?

These were thoughts that had come and been banished from his mind innumerable times. There was nothing he could do to alter or even greatly alleviate the hards.h.i.+ps by which she was surrounded. Her aloofness from personal contact with himself, even her constant suspicions of his motives, and her lingering indignation for what he had done, he felt every hour of the day. But he could not have begged her forgiveness if he would--and would not have done so if he could.

How long would it last, he asked himself--and what would be the end?

Would no s.h.i.+p ever come--or how long might it be till succor finally arrived? Would a search be made for the missing boat that had gone to the bottom of the sea? Or, before this could happen, would smaller craft arrive--the strange, swift craft of these eastern waters, manned by fanatical outlaws, pirates, or even the wild, head-hunting Dyaks, who had probably been here before?

When he finally placed his meat in the pit, where the fire had burned down to glowing embers, his mind was filled with the many plans he was impatient to materialize without another half hour's delay. He covered the leaf-and-clay-wrapped dinner, first with portions of the coals and heated ashes, and then with all the sand he had dug to make his natural oven, after which he returned to the terrace.

Neither the process of cooking, nor that of firing his earthenware could be hastened now by Grenville's presence.. He saw that his pottery furnace was properly supplied with fuel, and then sat down where Elaine was busily plaiting a flat sort of mat with withes she had somehow split to half their former size, and there he began to carve at some slender branches of wood he had brought from down below.

"What are you making?" he presently asked, as he watched her nimble fingers at their task.

"A platter for the meat," she told him, briefly. "And what are your sticks to become?"

"Forks for the same. I hope we shall need no knives.... I must soon find time to dig about and, perhaps, unearth some yams. They are not so good as potatoes, but they answer at a pinch."

"You have planned so many things to accomplish," she said. "Do you think you shall ever have the time?"

"Can't tell, but meantime I thoroughly enjoy this wresting an existence from more or less stubborn conditions. Just as soon as I eliminate the tiger I shall melt up my pieces of metal to make a number of tools."

Elaine looked up at the man in wonder, but not incredulously.

"What perfect confidence you seem to have in your ability to accomplish difficult things."

His utterance sank a tone lower as he answered:

"What I say I'll do--I'll do. What I say I'll have--I'll have."

It was the first word he had spoken since their coming to the island that might have been construed as a survival of the feelings he had demonstrated on the steamer.

Elaine felt her whole being suddenly burn with strange excitement. She felt the underlying significance of his speech, and her soul was instantly bristling with defiance.

His words went too deep and were uttered too gravely for any mere idle boasting. She had already seen, and partially acknowledged, the power that lay in this strong man's hands to compel his desired ends. She felt this potency emanating from him now--and resented the fact that she herself had been as much selected as the tiger for his ultimate conquering.

She was angry again on the instant, ready to fight like a very little demon, should he dare so much as lay a finger on her hand. She resolved anew that, though a hundred years should pa.s.s before they two escaped this island exile, not the tiniest bud of answering love should ever sprout in her breast.

For the past few days she had felt a new sense of security and ease.

The man with whom she was working out this singular and intimate existence had made no sign of renewing his advances, had seemed to forget he had ever broached the subject of his pa.s.sion, and had been a most agreeable companion, cheerful, resourceful, and courageous to the last degree.

Now that she knew what unworthy thoughts still lingered beneath the surface of his calm, indifferent demeanor, not even their earlier friends.h.i.+p seemed to her possible again--and for this she was disappointed and annoyed.

Her glance had fallen instantly back to her work. That her color burned up, to the tips of her ears for Grenville to see and, perhaps, enjoy, she felt with added irritation. But she would not confess, by word or deed, she understood the meaning of his speech.

When she spoke she employed a quiet and common-place tone of voice, and returned to impersonal subjects.

"I can understand," she said, "how you might possibly shoot the tiger, but I thought one needed furnaces, tall chimneys, and things, to melt up bronze and bra.s.s."

"Dead right," he answered, readily. "You see, you've got such a grasp on things that I never cease to be surprised--and delighted. I've engaged quite a chimney already."

She forced herself to continue the conversation, if only by way of ignoring the personal element of his answer.

"Engaged a chimney?"

"You'll see about that, later. If getting the tiger were only half as easy as some of the other things I expect to accomplish, I'd certainly be tickled clean to death."

She felt--she almost knew, indeed---that she and her love were cla.s.sified among the things he expected to "accomplish" so easily at last, and her hot resentment burned hotter. She was tempted to flash out her wildest cry of the loathing--the bitter, eternal loathing--his words had begotten in her bosom. She was tempted again to a desperate wish that the tiger might rend him in pieces--as _she_ would do if ever he touched her again. But she dared not trust herself to speak, or even to show, by the slightest sign, that his threat was comprehended.

She clung in desperation to the subject she felt to be safe.

"Then--you do think the tiger dangerous--hard, at least, to kill?"

"Well, I wouldn't call him exactly plum pudding and gravy."

"Your cannon would kill him, though, of course?"

"If he'd pose in front of the muzzle, a rod or so away."

A cold chill crept along her nerves at thoughts of the savage animal she herself had twice encountered. She wondered just what Grenville's method would be--in overcoming some of the things he had vowed to conquer.

"You hardly expect to shoot the creature, then, after all?"

He held up the fork he was carving, for critical examination.

"I'm rather inclined to favor the plan of leaving a bait in the jungle, and letting go a bomb when he comes to dine."

Her natural concern for the man's own safety could not be long expelled.

"How shall you know when he comes?" she inquired, and she dared look up as before.

Grenville continued to bend his gaze on his labor.

"I expect to hang around and see."

A sudden fear and sinking of the vitals seized her, unaware.

"But--doesn't a tiger usually feed at night?"

"His club hours are usually rather late, I believe."