Jack at Sea Part 72

"Yes, you can. Don't whisper so loud. I am going to roll myself over slowly, and keep on down that slope till I'm a little way off. Then I think we can get our knives out. I can get yours, or you can get mine.

Or did they take yours?"

"No, sir. It's in my pocket all right; I can feel it against me."

"Then, ready. It's of no use to wait longer. I'll start, and you lie still and watch. If they don't notice my moving, then you can come."

"No, sir, we go together or we don't go at all. I'm not going to lie still and let you be caught and knocked about perhaps."

"There's no time for arguing, Ned. Do as I tell you. There, I'm off."

Ned drew his breath hard, and raised his head a little to note whether his young master's movements were heard, but though the growth rustled and crackled a little not a savage stirred, and Jack went on rolling himself over and over, suffering pretty sharp pain from his bonds, but setting it at nought, and struggling on till well down out of sight of the rough camp.

Then he stopped and waited for Ned during what seemed to be quite an age before the man joined him, breathing laboriously, and then they lay listening, but all was still.

"Easy enough to escape, sir, if you make up your mind to it."

"But we have not escaped yet, Ned," whispered Jack. "We ought to have waited till it was dark. Now then, I'll creep close to you. Try and put your hand in my pocket and take out the little knife I have there."

It was harder to do than either of them had antic.i.p.ated, and Ned suffered agony in one wrist as he strained to get at the knife with one hand, while the other was always in the way and kept it back. At last though he was successful and held it in triumph, but there was something more to do, for a closed blade was as bad as nothing.

Still they say "where there's a will there's a way." Certainly there was will enough here, and by degrees Ned worked himself along so that he could hold the little clasp-knife to Jack's lips. These parted directly, so did his firm white teeth, and closed upon the blade, while Ned drew at the handle, with the result that the blade was opened a little. Then it was drawn from between Jack's teeth, and closed with a snap, when the work had to be gone over again.

This time, trembling with excitement and dread lest at any moment the blacks might miss them, Jack closed his teeth with all his might upon the narrow portion of the blade awkwardly offered to him, held on at the risk of the ivory breaking, and Ned drew the handle away slowly, with the result that the strength of the spring was mastered, the knife half opened, and this done the rest was easy.

Ned paused for a few moments to wrench his head round and gaze up the slope toward the savages' camp, then turning to Jack he laid the blade flat upon the back of his hand, and forced it under the thin cane which bound his wrists, having hard work to do it in his hampered position without cutting his companion's hands.

"Now, sir," he whispered, "I'll turn the blade edge outwards, and you must work yourself up and down against it. Try now."

Jack made an effort, which hurt his wrist horribly without doing the slightest good.

"That won't do, sir," whispered Ned. "I can't help you half so much as by holding still. Now try again, not jigging as you did before, but giving yourself a regular see-saw sort of swing. Now then 'fore they wake. Off you go."

It was agony. The back of the knife-blade seemed to be cutting bluntly down upon his wrist-bones, but setting his teeth hard, Jack forced himself downward and drew back.

"That's the sort, sir. Don't do much, but it's doing something. If I had my hands free I could soon cut the withes. Keep it up."

Setting his teeth harder, Jack kept on the sawing movement, apparently without avail, but the pain grew less as the edge of the blade cut into the cane.

"It's of no use, Ned," whispered the lad. "Let's try to undo the knots with our teeth. I'll try on yours first."

"You keep on sawing," said the man in a low growl, and the words came so fiercely that Jack involuntarily obeyed, and the next minute, to his great surprise, there was a faint cracking sound; one strand of the cane band was through, and the rest uncurled like a freed spring.

"Hah! I thought so," said Ned with a low chuckle of satisfaction. "Now catch hold of the knife and cut the band round your ankles."

"I can hardly feel the handle," muttered Jack.

"You will directly. Look sharp, sir, sharp as your knife."

"Yes," said Jack, "but I'm going to cut your wrists free first."

"No, no, sir; your legs."

Jack set his teeth again as hard as when he was holding the back of the knife-blade, and in response he took hold of Ned's hand with his left and applied the edge across the cane which held the poor fellow's wrists, and in a clumsy fumbling way began to saw downward.

"Mr Jack, Mr Jack!" whispered the man excitedly, "you shouldn't, you shouldn't! I wanted to get you cut loose first."

"You hold your tongue and keep still," said the lad. "I don't want to cut your wrist. Steady. Oh, how numb and helpless my hands feel."

"They cut well enough, sir," said Ned with a laugh, as the outer turn of the cane band was divided, and once more the tough vegetable cord opened like a spiral string.

"That's your sort, Mr Jack, sir. Give me hold of the knife. My turn now."

"No, no, my hands are getting better. Rub your wrists while I cut your ankles free."

For answer Ned made a dash at the knife, but Jack avoided him, and forgetting everything in his desire to set his companion at liberty, he began sawing away at his ankles, while Ned thrust his hand into his own pocket and drew out his knife, to begin operating directly after upon Jack's bonds, with so much success that he was able to free him first.

His own were at liberty though directly after, and then they lay panting and perfectly still.

Jack was the first to speak.

"Now then," he said, "shall we crawl up and try and get our guns?"

"And make one of them wake and tap us both again on the head. No, sir, that won't do. Soon as you feel that you can move, crawl right away in among the bushes, and I'll follow. Have you got any hands and feet?

because I feel as if I hadn't."

"Mine are terribly numb, Ned, but we'll start at once. It will do me more good to work them than to rest them. Which way?"

"Downwards, because it's more easy. Then go into that hollow ditch-like bit."

"But it goes upward."

"Never mind, take it, and we shall be out of sight. It will be best.

They're sure to think we've made for the sea. Why, how dark it's growing. Didn't know it was so late."

Jack said nothing, but began to crawl away as fast as his tingling, helpless limbs would allow, feeling that so long as they got away from their captors it did not so much matter which direction they took. He turned his head from time to time to see if Ned was all right, and found that he was lamely struggling on after him, but always gave him a cheery look.

Jack followed the rugged little ditch-like place, which had evidently been carved out by one of the rivulets which ran down from the mountain, but after following it some time and turning to look back at Ned, he suddenly dropped flat on his face and began to crawl out of it, and toward the shelter of the forest, which came close up.

"What's the matter?" said Ned.

"Don't lift your head; creep as flat as you can, and let's get among the bushes."

"That's right enough; but why? It won't be such good going."

"We've been crawling higher and higher," said Jack, "and when I turned to see how you were getting on, I looked down over your shoulder, on to the smoke of the fire, and the blacks were lying about it, and just at that moment one of them jumped up, and then all the rest followed, and they must have missed us!"

"Shall we get up and run then?"

"No, no, they may not come this way. Hark! what's that?"