CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
THE MEETING OF OLD FRIENDS IN CURIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES.
When the soldiers were safely away Hunky Ben returned to the cave andbrought Leather down.
Charlie Brooke's love for his old school-fellow and playmate seemed tobecome a new passion, now that the wreck of life and limb presented byShank had awakened within him the sensation of profound pity. AndShank's admiration for and devotion to Charlie increased tenfold nowthat the terrible barrier of self had been so greatly eliminated fromhis own nature, and a new spirit put within him.
By slow degrees, and bit by bit, each came to know and understand theother under the influence of new lights and feelings. But theirthoughts about themselves, and their joy at meeting in such peculiarcircumstances, had to be repressed to some extent in the presence oftheir common friend Ralph Ritson--_alias_ Buck Tom--for Charlie knew himonly as an old school-fellow, though to Leather he had been a friend andchum ever since they had landed in the New World.
The scout, during the first interval of leisure on the previous day, hadextracted the ball without much difficulty from Buck's chest, throughwhich it had passed, and was found lying close under the skin at hisback. The relief thus afforded, and rest obtained under the influenceof some medicine administered by Captain Wilmot, had brightened the poorfellow up to some extent; and Leather, seeing him look so much better onhis return, began to entertain some hopes of his recovery.
Buck himself had no such hope; but, being a man of strong will, herefused to let it be seen in his demeanour that he thought his case tobe hopeless. Yet he did not act from bravado, or the slightest tinctureof that spirit which resolves to "die game." The approach of death hadindeed torn away the veil and permitted him to see himself in his truecolours, but he did not at that time see Jesus to be the Saviour of even"the chief of sinners." Therefore his hopelessness took the form ofsilent submission to the inevitable.
Of course Charlie Brooke spoke to him more than once of the love of Godin Christ, and of the dying thief who had looked to Jesus on the crossand was saved, but Buck only shook his head. One afternoon inparticular Charlie tried hard to remove the poor man's perplexities.
"It's all very well, Brooke," said Buck Tom, "and very kind of you tointerest yourself in me, but the love of God and the salvation of Christare not for me. You don't know what a sinner I have been, a rebel allmy life--all my life, mark you. I would count it mean to come whiningfor pardon now that the game is up. I _deserve_ hell--or whatever sorto' punishment is due--an' I'm willing to take it."
"Ralph Ritson," said Brooke impressively, "you are a far greater sinnerthan you think or admit."
"Perhaps I am," returned the outlaw sadly, and with a slight expressionof surprise. "Perhaps I am," he repeated. "Indeed I admit that you areright, but--but your saying so is a somewhat strange way to comfort adying man. Is it not?"
"I am _not_ trying to comfort you. I am trying, by God's grace, toconvince you. You tell me that you have been a rebel all your days?"
"Yes; I admit it."
"There are still, it may be, a few days yet to run, and you aredetermined, it seems, to spend these in rebellion too--up to the veryend!"
"Nay, I do not say that. Have I not said that I _submit_ to whateverpunishment is due? Surely that is not rebellion. I can do nothing_now_ to make up for a mis-spent life, so I am willing to accept theconsequences. Is not that submission to God--at least as far as lies inmy power?"
"No; it is _not_ submission. Bear with me when I say it is rebellion,still deeper rebellion than ever. God says to you, `You have destroyedyourself but in _me_ is your help.' He says, `Though your sins be asscarlet they shall be white as snow.' He says, `Believe on the LordJesus Christ and you shall be saved,' and assures you that `whoeverwill' may come to Him, and that no one who comes shall be cast out--yetin the face of all that you tell me that the love of God and thesalvation of Christ are not for you! Ralph, my friend, you think thatif you had a chance of living your life over again you would do betterand so deserve salvation. That is exactly what God tells us we cannotdo, and then He tells us that He Himself, in Jesus Christ, has providedsalvation from sin _for_ us, offers it as a free unmerited gift; andimmediately we dive to the deepest depth of sin by deliberately refusingthis deliverance from sin unless we can somehow manage to deserve it."
"I cannot see it," said the wounded man thoughtfully.
"Only God Himself, by His Holy Spirit, can enable you to see it," saidhis companion; and then, in a low earnest voice, with eyes closed andhis hand on his friend's arm, he prayed that the outlaw might be "bornagain."
Charlie Brooke was not one of those who make long prayers, either "for apretence" or otherwise. Buck Tom smiled slightly when his friendstopped at the end of this one sentence.
"Your prayer is not long-winded, anyhow!" he said.
"True, Ralph, but it is comprehensive. It requires a good deal ofexpounding and explaining to make man understand what we say or think.The Almighty needs none of that. Indeed He does not need even theasking but He _bids_ us ask, and that is enough for me. I have seenenough of life to understand the value of unquestioning obediencewhether one comprehends the reason of an order or not."
"Ay," returned Buck quickly, "when he who gives the order has a right tocommand."
"That is so much a matter of course," rejoined Charlie, "that I wouldnot think of referring to it while conversing with an intelligent man.By the way--which name would you like to be called, by Ralph or Buck?"
"It matters little to me," returned the outlaw languidly, "and it won'tmatter to anybody long. I should prefer `Ralph,' for it is notassociated with so much evil as the other, but you know ourcircumstances are peculiar just now, so, all things considered, I hadbetter remain Buck Tom to the end of the chapter. I'll answer towhichever name comes first when the roll is called in the next world."
The conversation was interrupted at this point by the entrance of HunkyBen bearing a deer on his lusty shoulders. He was followed by DickDarvall.
"There," said the former, throwing the carcass on the floor, "I told yeI wouldn't be long o' bringin' in somethin' for the pot."
"Ay, an' the way he shot it too," said the seaman, laying aside hisrifle, "would have made even a monkey stare with astonishment. HasLeather come back, by the way? I see'd him goin' full sail through thewoods when I went out this mornin'."
"He has not yet returned," said Charlie. "When I relieved him and satdown to watch by our friend here, he said he felt so much better andstronger that he would take his gun and see if he couldn't findsomething for the pot. I advised him not to trust his feelings toomuch, and not to go far, but--ah, here he comes to answer for himself."
As he spoke a step was heard outside, and next moment Shank entered,carrying a brace of rabbits which he flung down, and then threw himselfon a couch in a state of considerable exhaustion.
"There," said he, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. "They'vecost me more trouble than they're worth, for I'm quite done up. I hadno idea I had become so weak in the legs. Ralph, my dear fellow," headded, forgetting himself for the moment as he rose and went to hisfriend's side, "I have more sympathy with you, now that I have found outthe extent of my own weakness. Do you feel better!"
"Yes, old boy--much--much better."
"That's all right. I'm convinced that--hallo! why, who shot the deer!"
"Hunky Ben has beat you," said Charlie.
"Beat Leather!" exclaimed Darvall, "why, he beats all creation. I neversee'd anything like it since I went to sea."
"Since you came ashore, you should say. But come, Dick," said Charlie,"let's hear about this wonderful shooting. I'm sure it will amuseBuck--unless he's too wearied to listen."
"Let him talk," said the invalid. "I like to hear him."
Thus exhorted and encouraged the seaman recounted his day's experience.
"Well, you must know, messmates," said he, "that I set sail alone thismornin', havin' i
n my pocket the small compass I always carry about me--also my bearin's before startin', so as I shouldn't go lost in thewoods--though that wouldn't be likely in such an narrow inlet as thisTraitor's Trap, to say nothin' o' the landmarks alow and aloft of allsorts. I carried a Winchester with me, because, not bein' what you maycall a crack shot, I thought it would give me a better chance to have alot o' resarve shots in the locker, d'ye see? I carried also asix-shooter, as it might come handy, you know, if I fell in wi' aRedskin or a bear, an' got to close quarters. Also my cutlass, for I'vebin used to that aboard ship when I was in the navy.
"Well, away I went--makin' sail down the valley to begin with, an' thena long tack into the mountains right in the wind's eye, that bein' theway to get on the blind side o' game. I hadn't gone far when up startsa bird o' some sort--"
"What like was it?" asked the scout.
"No more notion than the man in the moon," returned the sailor. "Whatwi' the flutter an' scurry an' leaves, branches an' feathers--an' thestart--I see'd nothin' clear, an' I was so anxious to git somethin' forthe pot, that six shots went arter it out o' the Winchester, before Iwas quite sure I'd begun to fire--for you must know I've larned to fireuncommon fast since I come to these parts. Hows'ever, I hit nothin'--"
"Not quite so bad as that, Dick," interrupted the scout gravely.
"Well, that's true, but you better tell that part of it yourself, Hunky,as you know more about it than me."
"It wasn't of much consequence," said the scout betraying the slightestpossible twinkle in his grey eyes, "but Dick has a knack o' lettin'drive without much regard to what's in front of him. I happened to bemore in front of him than that bird when he began to fire, an' the firstshot hit my right leggin', but by good luck only grazed the bark. Ofcourse I dropped behind a rock when the storm began and lay quiet there,and when a lull came I halloo'd."
"Yes, he did halloo," said Dick, resuming the narrative, "an' thathalloo was more like the yell of a bull of Bashan than the cry of amortal man. It made my heart jump into my throat an' stick there, for Ithought I must have killed a whole Redskin tribe at one shot--"
"Six shots, Dick. Tell the exact truth an' don't contradic' yourself,"said Hunky.
"No, it wasn't," retorted the seaman stoutly. "It was arter the _first_shot that you gave the yell. Hows'ever, I allow that the echoes kep' itgoin' till the six shots was off--an' I can tell you, messmates, thatthe hallooin' an' flutterin' an' scurryin' an echoin' an' thought ofRedskins in my brain all mixed up wi' the blatterin' shots, caused sucha rumpus that I experienced considerable relief when the smoke clearedaway an' I see'd Hunky Ben in front o' me laughin' fit to bu'st hissides."
"Well, to make a long yarn short, I joined Hunky and allowed him tolead, seein' that he understands the navigation hereaway better than me.
"`Come along,' says he, `an' I'll let you have a chance at a deer.'
"`All right,' says I, an' away we went up one hill an' down another--forall the world as if we was walkin' over a heavy Atlantic swell--till wecome to a sort o' pass among the rocks.
"`I'm goin' to leave you here to watch,' says he, `an' I'll go round bythe futt o' the gully an' drive the deer up. They'll pass quite close,so you've only to--'
"Hunky stopped short as he was speakin' and flopped down as if he'd binshot-haulin' me along wi' him.
"`Keep quiet,' says he, in a low voice. `We're in luck, an' don't needto drive. There's a deer comin' up at this very minute--a young one.You'll take it. I won't fire unless you miss.'
"You may be sure I kep' quiet, messmates, arter that. I took just onepeep, an' there, sure enough, I saw a brown beast comin' up the pass.So we kep' close as mice. There was a lot o' small bushes not ten yardsin front of us, which ended in a cut--a sort o' crack--in the hill-side,a hundred yards or more from the place where we was crouchin'.
"`Now,' whispers Hunky to--"
"I never whisper!" remarked the scout.
"Well, well; he said, in a low v'ice to me, says he, `d'ye see thatopenin' in the bushes?' `I do,' says I. `Well then,' says he, `it'sabout ten yards off; be ready to commence firin' when it comes to thatopenin'.' `I will,' says I. An', sure enough, when the brown crittercame for'id at a walk an' stopped sudden wi' a look o' surprise as if ithadn't expected to see me, bang went my Winchester four times, likewinkin', an' up went the deer four times in the air, but niver a bit theworse was he. Snap I went a fifth time; but there was no shot, an' Igave a yell, for I knew the cartridges was done. By that time thecritter had reached the crack in the hill I told ye of, an' up in theair he went to clear it, like an Indy-rubber ball. I felt a'most liketo fling my rifle at it in my rage, when bang! went a shot at my earthat all but deaf'ned me, an' I wish I may niver fire another shot orfurl another t'gallant-s'l if that deer didn't crumple up in the air an'drop down stone dead--as dead as it now lays there on the floor."
By the time Dick Darvall had ended his narrative--which was much moreextensive than our report of it--steaks of the deer were sputtering in afrying-pan, and other preparations were being made for a hearty meal, towhich all the healthy men did ample justice. Shank Leather did what hecould, and even Buck Tom made a feeble attempt to join.
That night a strict watch was kept outside the cave--each taking it byturns, for it was just possible, though not probable, that the outlawsmight return to their old haunt. No one appeared, however, and for thesucceeding eight weeks the party remained there undisturbed, ShankLeather slowly but surely regaining strength; his friend, Buck Tom, asslowly and surely losing it; while Charlie, Dick, and Hunky Ben rangedthe neighbouring forest in order to procure food. Leather usuallyremained in the cave to cook for and nurse his friend. It was pleasantwork to Shank, for love and pity were at the foundation of the service.Buck Tom perceived this and fully appreciated it. Perchance he obtainedsome valuable light on spiritual subjects from Shank's changed tone andmanner, which the logic of his friend Brooke had failed to convey. Whocan tell?