CHAPTER FORTY ONE.
OUR TERRIBLE LOSSES.
We had only about three miles to go if we could have flown like birds;but the way lay in and out of rocks, with quite a little precipice todescend at times, so that the journey must have been double that length.The hope of a good meal, however, made us trudge on, and after a fewstops to rest I saw that we must now be nearing the shore, for theground was much more level.
So different did it appear, though, that I hardly recognised some of it,and had it not been for Ebo I am sure we should have gone astray; but,savage like, he seemed to have an unerring instinct for finding his wayback over ground he had been over before, and we had only to look backat him if we were in front for him to point out the way with thegreatest of confidence.
We were trudging on in front, talking in a low tone about making anotherexpedition into the mountainous part, in the hope of finding it, thehigher we climbed, more free from risk of meeting natives, and we werenow getting so near the shore that we could hear the beat of the wavesupon a reef that lay off our hut, and sheltered the boat from beingwashed about, when all of a sudden, as we were traversing some low,scrubby bushes which were more thorny than was pleasant, Ebo suddenlystruck us both on the shoulder, forcing us down amongst the leaves andtwigs, and on looking sharply round we saw that he had dropped oursplendid specimens, and, wild-eyed and excited, he was crouching too.
"Why, Ebo," began my uncle; but the black clapped his hand upon hismouth, and then pointed to the shore in front.
I felt my blood turn cold; for there, not fifty yards away, and dimlyseen through the shade of leaves, was a party of about fifty New Guineamen, with a couple of dozen more in three canoes that were lying justoutside the reef. They were a fierce-looking lot, armed with spears,axes, and clubs, and they were gesticulating and chattering fiercelyabout our boat.
I heard my uncle utter a groan, for it seemed as if the labours of allthese months upon months of collecting were wasted, and that specimens,stores, arms, everything of value, would fall into the hands of thesesavages. He was perfectly calm directly after, and crouched there withhis gun ready for a chance, should there be any necessity for its use;but he knew that it was useless to attempt to fight, all we could do wasto save our lives.
After about half an hour's talk the savages embarked, taking our boat intow behind one of their canoes, and we saw the bright water flash as thepaddles beat regularly, and the men sent their craft along till theyswept round the headland west of the bay and were gone.
"Oh, uncle!" I cried, as soon as we were safe.
"It is very hard, Nat, my boy," he said sadly; "but it might have beenworse. We have our lives and a little ammunition; but the scoundrelshave wrecked my expedition."
"And we have no boat, uncle."
"Nor anything else, Nat," he said cheerfully. "But we have plenty ofpluck, my boy, and Ebo will help us to make a canoe to take us to theMoluccas, where I dare say I can get some merchant to fit us out again.Well, Ebo," he cried, "all gone!"
"Man--kill--gone," repeated Ebo, shaking his spear angrily, and then hekept repeating the word Owe--boat, as we went down to the shore.
"Let's see if they have left anything in the hut, Nat," said my uncle."We must have food even if we are stripped."
We turned through the bushes and made our way into the littlearbour-like spot beside the stream where Ebo had built our hut beneath asplendid tree, when, to our utter astonishment, we found that thesavages had not seen our little home, but had caught sight of the boat,landed and carried it off, without attempting to look for its owners.No one had been there since we left, that was evident; and pleased as wewere, our delight was more than equalled by Ebo's, for laying down ourspecimens, this time more carefully, he refreshed himself with a dancebefore lighting a fire, where a capital meal was prepared, which wethankfully enjoyed as we thought of the benefits we received by havingthe forethought to carry everything out of the boat and placing it undercover for fear of rain.
The savages then had taken nothing but our boat, and the next thing wasto set to work to construct another, for my uncle said he should notfeel satisfied to stay where we were longer, without some means ofretreat being ready for an emergency.
Before lying down we managed to ask Ebo what he thought of our beingable to build a canoe that would carry us and our luxuries. For replyhe laughed, pointed to our axes and to the trees, as if to say, What afoolish question when we have all the material here!
I was so wearied, and slept so heavily, that I had to be awakened by myuncle long after the sun was up.
"Come, Nat," he said, "I want you to make a fire. Ebo has gone offsomewhere."
I made the fire, after which we had a hasty breakfast, and then workedhard at skin making--preserving all our specimens.
The day glided by, but Ebo did not come, and feeling no disposition tocollect more, in fact not caring now to fire, we had a look round to seewhich would be the most likely place to cut down a tree and beginbuilding a boat.
"It is lucky for us, Nat," said my uncle, "that Ebo belongs to a nationof boat-builders. Perhaps he has gone to search for a suitable placeand the kind of wood he thinks best; but I wish he would come."
Night fell and no Ebo. The next morning he was not there; and as dayafter day glided by we set ourselves to work to search for him, feelingsure that the poor fellow must have fallen from some precipice and belying helpless in the forest. But we had no success, and began to thinkthen of wild beasts, though we had seen nothing large enough to bedangerous, except that worst wild beast of all, savage man.
Still we searched until we were beginning to conclude that he must havebeen seen by a passing canoe whose occupants had landed and carried himoff.
"I don't think they would, uncle," I said, though; "he is too sharp andcunning. Why, it would be like seeking to catch a wild bird to try andget hold of Ebo, if he was out in the woods."
"Perhaps you are right, Nat," said my uncle. "There is one way, though,that we have never tried, I mean over the mountain beyond where you shotthat last bird. To-morrow we will go across there and see if there areany signs of the poor fellow. If we see none then we must set to workourselves to build a canoe or hollow one out of a tree, and I tremble,Nat, for the result."
"Shall we be able to make one big enough to carry our chests, uncle?"
"No, Nat, I don't expect it. If we can contrive one that will carry usto some port we must be satisfied. There I can buy a boat, and we mustcome back for our stores."
We devoted the next two days to a long expedition, merely using our gunsto procure food, and reluctantly allowing several splendid birds toescape.
But our expedition only produced weariness; and footsore and worn out wereturned to our hut, fully determined to spend our time in trying whatwe could contrive in the shape of a boat, falling fast asleep, sad atheart indeed, for in Ebo we felt that we had lost a faithful friend.