CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
THE ALARM.
There were so many opportunities for lying _perdu_ on the deck of aman-of-war on a dark night that the shadowy figure had no difficulty inkeeping pretty close to Don Lavington and his companion as, decided nowupon their course of action, they laid hold upon a stout line where itwas coiled up, and after running a sufficiency over the side to touchwater, made it fast close to the main chains.
This done, they went cautiously forward so as to avoid the watch, andafter being nearly seen, more than once, succeeded in getting a secondline over the side close to the fore chains, in happy unconsciousness ofthe fact that the shadowy-looking figure was watching every movement.
As is the fashion aboard a man-of-war, the actors in this scene werebarefooted, and thus able to pass quietly along the well-scrubbed deck;but unfortunately for them, the sailor playing the spy had the sameadvantage, and kept them in view unnoticed and unheard.
Now he was lying under the bulwarks, and so close that Jem's foot almosttouched his shoulder. Another time he was lying in one of the boatsslung from the davits--then behind a coil of rope--behind the cook'sgalley--in the lee of a cask--once in a water barrel which was to befilled with the icy fluid of the river which came down from one of themountains; always, with the activity of a monkey, contriving to besomewhere close at hand, till they stood at last, silent and watchful,about mid-way between the fore and main chains, peering out into thedarkness shoreward and listening for the faintest sound from off thesea.
It was a wonderfully still night, and though out to the east therestless waves beat heavily on reef and shore, their action here was aslow heaving and curling over on the black metallic sand with a soundthat to those on shipboard was like a whisper, but whose movement couldbe seen by a faint line of lambent light just in the blackest part toleeward of the ship, where sea touched shore. Sometimes this was sofaint as to be hardly visible to the best-trained sight; at others itwas as if some phosphorescent serpent was gliding swiftly along thesands, and it was in this direction that Don strained his eyes in thehope of catching sight of Ngati's canoe, whose paddles would churn upthe water and shed on either side a faint golden light.
On board there were the customary anchor lanterns, and the faint glowthrown up from the skylights; but these seemed to have scarcely anyeffect upon the darkness, which hung down like a pall over the vessel,and Don's spirits rose as he felt how well they were concealed. Thenthey sank once more, for Jem placed his lips close to his ear andwhispered,--
"It's too dark, my lad; we shall never be able to see the canoe if shecomes."
Just then Don pressed his arm, and they listened together to whatsounded like a faint sawing noise, which stopped and was renewed severaltimes, and was followed by a slight splash.
The sounds came from forward, apparently somewhere in the direction ofthe foreshrouds; but though they listened intently it was heard no more.
"Fish," said Jem in a whisper, "trying to climb up into the ship, andthen tumbled back into the sea."
"Nonsense!" said Don, shortly. "Now you look to the left, and I'll lookto the right."
"Right, my lad. I'll look, but she won't come."
The searching scrutiny went on, and to Don, as he strained his eyes, itseemed as if all kinds of uncouth-looking monsters kept looming up outof the sea and disappearing; and though from time to time he toldhimself that it was all fancy, the various objects that his excitedvision formed were so real that it was hard to believe that they wereonly the coinage of his fancy.
He turned and looked on board at the various lights, faintly-seen, withthe result that his eyes were rested, while he listened to themonotonous talking of the watch and an occasional burst of laughter fromthe gunroom, or the regular murmur from the forecastle.
Then he watched shoreward again for the faint golden flash made by thepaddles of Ngati's canoe.
No lambent glow, no sound of paddling, not even a murmur from the shore,where the native huts were gathered together, and the great _whare_stood with its singularly carved posts representing human form overhuman form in strange combinations, with grotesque heads, pearly shelleyes, and tongues protruding from distorted mouths.
Then Jem caught Don's arm in turn, for there was a splash far away tothe left, below where, faintly-seen, a great sugar-loaf mountain rosehigh into the heavens.
The splash was not repeated, but, just as they had given up listeningfor it, once more the dull sawing sound came out of the darkness, butthis time, instead of being forward it was away aft--how far they couldnot tell, for in the darkness sounds, like lights, may be close at handor a couple of hundred yards away--it is hard to tell which.
The faint sawing went on for some time, ceased, and was renewed, tofinish as before with a curious rustling and a splash.
"What can that be, Jem?" whispered Don.
"Not going to wenture an observation again," replied Jem, sourly.
Then all was still save the murmurs of voices inboard, and Don stoodpressed against the bulwark listening intently, and thinking that beforethey went below to their hammocks they must haul up the lines again andcoil them down, or their appearance would betray that something had beengoing on.
How long they had been waiting since the last sound was heard, Don couldnot tell; but all was so wonderfully still that the silence wasoppressive; and after arriving at the conclusion that the canoe wouldnot come, as from the utter absence of light or movement ashore it wasevident that none of the natives were stirring, he turned to Jem.
"Asleep?" he whispered.
"I arn't a horse, am I?" was the surly reply. "Nice place to go tosleep standing up, Mas' Don.--Think he'll come?"
"I in afraid not, now."
"What shall us do?"
Don was silent.
"Say, Mas' Don," whispered Jem, after a thoughtful pause, "seems a pityto waste them ropes after--"
"Hist!"
Don's hand was on his lips, for voices were heard from aft, and directlyafter they heard the captain say,--
"Yes; extremely dark. Think we shall have a storm?"
"No," said the first lieutenant, "the glass is too high. Very darkindeed."
Then two faint sparks of light could be seen, indicating that thespeakers were smoking, and the low murmuring of their voices suggestedthat they were chatting carelessly together.
"Keep your hand down, Mas' Don," said Jem in a whisper, after removingit. "They can't hear us, and if they did they'd think it was the watch.Say, look here, seems a pity to waste them ropes after we've got 'emdown ready."
"Yes, Jem, it does."
"Such a short way to slide down, and no fear o' their breaking, same asthere was in that cock-loft. What d'yer say?"
"What to?"
"Let's slide down and swim for it. 'Tarn't quarter of a mile. Youcould do that easy."
"Yes, Jem; I think so."
"And I'd help you if you got tired. Let's go."
"But the sharks."
"There I goes again. I always forgets them sharks; but look here, mylad, it's dark as pitch."
"Quite, Jem."
"We can't see twenty yards afore us, not clear."
"Not ten, Jem."
"Well, that's through the air. We couldn't see an inch through water."
"What of that?"
"More couldn't the sharks."
"Think not, Jem?"
"I feel 'bout sure on it. Look here, Mas' Don, I arn't got any money,but if I had, I'd wager half-a-guinea that all the sharks are at homeand fast asleep; and if there's any of 'em shut out and roaming about inthe streets--I mean in the sea--it's so dark that they couldn't see morethan an inch before their noses; so let's open our knives ready, in caseone should come, so that we could dive down and stab him, same as thenatives do, and then swim on ashore. I'll risk it: will you?"
Don was silent for a few moments.
"Don't say _yes_, my lad, if you'd rayther not," said Jem, kindly. "Idon't want to persuade you."
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"I'm ready, Jem. I was thinking whether it was right to let you go."
"Oh, never you mind about me, my lad. Now, look here, shall us one godown each rope, or both down one?"
"Both down this one close here, and whoever goes down first can wait forthe other. Yes, Jem; I'll go first."
"When?"
"Now, at once."
"Hoo--ray!" whispered Jem in Don's ear, so sharply that it produced astrange tickling sensation.
"Open your knife, Jem."
"Right, my lad; I'm ready."
"This way, then. Hist!"
Don caught Jem's arm in a firm grip as he was moving along the deck,each feeling somewhat agitated at the daring venture of exchanging firmplanks for the treacherous sea, infested as they knew it was by horriblecreatures which could tear them limb from limb.
Jem had heard a sound at the same moment, and he needed no telling thathe should listen.
For from some distance off along the shore there was a faint splash,and, as they strained their eyes in the direction from whence it hadcome, they could see flashes of pale light, which they knew were causedby paddles.
"It's them, Jem," whispered Don, excitedly. "We must not start yet tillthe canoe is close up. I wish I had told him that I would make somesignal."
"It'll be all right, my lad," said Jem huskily. "Give 'em time. Thinkthe watch 'll see 'em?"
"I hope not," panted Don, as he strained his eyes in the direction ofthe faintly flashing paddles, which seemed to be moved very cautiously.
"Think it is them, Jem?"
"Who could it be?"
"Might it be a war canoe coming to try and capture the ship?"
"Not it," said Jem sturdily; "it's Ugly, as put out his tongue, comingto help us away. My, Mas' Don, how I should like to chop him under thechin next time he does that pretty trick of his."
"Silence, man! Listen, and look out. Let's get close to the ropefirst."
They crept softly toward the rope hanging down from the main chains,ready to their hand, and, as they crept, the dark figure that had seemedto be spying over their movements crept too, but on toward thequarter-deck, where the captain and the first lieutenant were lollingover the rail, and talking gently as they smoked--rather a rare customin those days.
"It's the canoe, Jem," whispered Don; "and it's coming closer."
They strained their eyes to try and make out the men in the long, lowvessel, but it was too dark. They could not even hear the plash of apaddle, but they knew that some boat--that of friend or foe--was slowlycoming toward the ship, for the flashing of the paddles in thephosphorescent water grew more plain.
"Ready, Jem?"
"Yes, I'm ready, lad. Rope's just where you stand."
"What!" cried the captain's voice loudly, and then there was a quickmurmur of talking.
"What's that mean, Mas' Don?"
"Don't know. Some order."
"Boat ahoy!" cried one of the watch forward, and there was a buzz ofexcitement which told that the paddling of the canoe had been seen.
"Watch there forward!" roared the captain.
"Ay, ay, sir," came back.
"Follow me, Jem; we must swim to her now."
"I'm after you, my lad."
"Jem!" in a tone of despair.
"What is it!"
"The rope's cut!"
"What? So it is. Never mind. After me! There's the one in theforechains."
In the midst of a loud buzz of voices, and the pad, pad--pad, pad ofbare feet on the deck, Jem and Don reached the forechains; and Jem ranhis hand along in the darkness till he felt the knot by which he hadsecured the rope.
"Here she is, Mas' Don. Now, then, over with you quick, or I shall bea-top of your head."
"I've got it," whispered Don.
Then in a voice full of despair,--
"This is cut, too!"
At the same moment the captain's voice rang out,--
"Look out there, you in the watch forward; two men are trying to leavethe ship!"