CHAPTER XI
THE ORDEAL OF EPHRAIM MEEK
Meek's mind worked slowly. For some little time, as he marchedshorewards among his fellow captives, he realised merely the fact thathe was a prisoner in the hands of the Germans. He did not ask himselfwhy he had been captured, or throw his imagination forward in an effortto forecast his fate. With his usual shambling gait he trudged on,glancing now at the Papuans, now at the Germans, and occasionallystroking his thin whiskers in the manner of one who finds the world agreat puzzle.
Presently illumination came to him. Fixing his eyes on the stout figureof the man who led the party, he muttered 'Trousers!' and thought of Mr.Grinson. Yes, to be sure, this was the extraordinary mariner who hadswum ashore from a wreck without soiling his trousers, who had beensaved from the cannibals' cooking pot, and had mysteriously disappearedwhen leading his rescuers to Mushroom Hill. His trousers were not soclean as they had been; there were black smudges on them. What wouldMr. Grinson say to that?
Before Meek had got much further in his cogitations, he found himselffully occupied in keeping his footing on a rugged zigzag path thatscored the surface of a steep downward slope. Then, lifting his eyes,he beheld the sea, and below, in a still cove, a vessel painted brightblue lying close inshore, and moored stem and stern. In shape sheresembled the raider which had sunk the _Berenisa_ a few weeks before,but she had had a new coat of paint. Meek saw at a glance that she hadsteam up, and wondered whether she was short-handed and he had beenimpressed to make up her complement.
A turn in the path shut the vessel from his view, but opened up anotherscene. On the left a number of natives were felling small trees, incharge of a European who every now and then cracked a long whip. 'Idon't hold with nigger-driving!' thought Meek, shaking his head as hepassed on.
The path becoming easier, he was now able to think of something morethan his feet. ''Tis the Raider,' he said to himself, 'though never didI see a ship of her tonnage painted sky blue afore. Trousers is aGerman, without a doubt. Now what 's he think he 's going to do withme? I 'll not sign on with a German pirate--never!'
Another turn brought the cove again into view. The seaplane had justrisen from the surface, and was now soaring towards the western horn. Afew seconds afterwards Hahn and his party reached the sentry, whosaluted, looking curiously at Meek. Hahn struck to the left, andpresently, after another steep descent, came to the broad ledge on whichnatives were moving up and down, carrying baskets out of a shallowtunnel. The full baskets were tipped over on to the beach, then takenback to the tunnel to be refilled. In charge of the toilers was asturdy German seaman, who had a rifle slung over his back and held inhis right hand a long, evil-looking whip.
Meek's ideas were becoming clarified. As a seaman he knew what a greatexpenditure of coal was involved in keeping the Raider with steam up,even though the fires were banked. Clearly the Germans had been scouringthe neighbourhood for men to work the seam which they had discovered inthe cliff side. But he was still wondering what he had to do with allthis, when he received a rude shock.
'Another batch for you, Hans,' said Hahn in German to the overseer.'There 's an Englishman among them as you see. It's almost time toknock off now. Put him in the compound with the rest; we 'll set him atwork to-morrow.'
The man grinned. Herding the new batch of prisoners into an enclosurelike a sheep pen, adjacent to the mouth of the tunnel, he drew a hurdleacross the entrance, and returned to superintend the last operations ofthe day. Hahn, meanwhile, had descended to the beach and entered theofficers' shed.
Meek, of course, had not understood what Hahn had said. Withoutsuspicion of the morrow's destiny, he found himself penned up with halfa dozen black men, and felt the indignity of his position.
'Like sheep!' he muttered. 'Like sheep! What would Mr. Grinson say?'
He was no longer beset by fears of being eaten. The natives squattedapart, talking among themselves, and watching their comrades on theledge. If Meek could have understood their speech, he would have knownthat they were already suspicious of Kafulu, who had quitted them alittle while before. Was it for this that he had enticed them away--tocarry heavy baskets of black rock from a dark fearsome hole? How longwould it be before they received the firesticks promised them? Theircomrades looked unhappy. How quiet they were! How they shrank away whenthey passed the man with the whip! Where was Flanso?
Presently a whistle sounded below. The men who had empty baskets setthem down against the wall of the ledge and stood in line. Those whosebaskets were full tipped their contents on to the beach, and joinedtheir fellows. From the mouth of the tunnel streamed the niggers,blinking as they came into the light. Wearily they dragged themselvesto their places in the line--silent, cowed, miserable. Among them wasFlanso, and at sight of him the six natives in the pen drew in theirbreath. His cheeks were hollowed; his skin was no longer a glisteningbronze, but the dull black of coal dust.
The German counted the men as they formed up. When he had countedtwenty-eight he cracked his whip, and the limp nerveless creaturesturned to the right and marched into the pen, where they flungthemselves down in utter dejection. They scarcely heeded the newcomers;only Flanso started on seeing Meek, and turned upon him a look ofagonised inquiry, of which the seaman was unconscious.
A few minutes later four seamen came from below, each carrying twopails. They set these down within the pen, and at a signal from Hansthe natives approached one by one, and took their food in their hands.Each man had as much as his two hands would hold of a sort of thickporridge. When Meek's turn came, he shook his head.
'No, it ain't proper,' he said. 'Not for a white man. I can't do it.'
Hans knew no English, but Meek's objection was obvious. He laughed, andwhen the seamen returned with pails of water he said to them: 'TheEnglish swine won't eat out of his hands. Tell the quarter-master.'
They jeered at Meek, took up the empty pails and departed. When theycame back for the water-pails, one of them carried a basin of porridge,a spoon, and a mug of water, which he handed to Meek with an oath. WhileMeek ate his supper the Germans stood around him, uttering flouts andjibes, which, being incomprehensible, did not spoil his appetite. Whenhe had finished they left with the utensils, another man came to relieveHans for the night, and the prisoners were left in the pen until it wasalmost dark. Then the sentry cracked his whip, the natives sprang totheir feet and lined up, and Meek looked on in astonishment as they weremarched into the tunnel, the entrance to which, when all had gone in,was closed by means of a stout wooden grating. He was left alone in thepen.
'I don't rightly know if this is what they call slavery,' he murmured,'but it do seem so. I don't hold with it. What would Mr. Grinson say?'
The night was chilly, and Meek slept uneasily. Once he was awakened bya flash from a lantern, and saw another German staring at him curiously.
'Aha, John Bull!' said the man with a grin.
Meek turned over and went to sleep again.
When he awoke, cramped and stiff, in the morning, the natives werefiling into the pen. Breakfast was a repetition of supper, and after themeal Hans appeared, and drove the men back to their work. Three of thenew prisoners were sent into the tunnel to dig, the other three weremade carriers. Meek was again left alone.
About ten o'clock Hahn came up, with two of his fellow officers, whostared at Meek, laughed, talked in their own language, and departed,leaving Hahn behind.
'Your, name is Meek, I zink so?' said the German.
'Ay, Ephraim Meek, that's my name.'
'So! Veil, Ephraim Meek, never I exbected to haf ze bleasure to see youagain. Ze ozers--vere are zey?'
Meek looked at him for a few moments in silence. The German was notaware, then, that the other three had been with him in the nativevillage. Slow-witted though he was, Meek had an inspiration. To tellthe truth might harm his friends. He had a brief struggle with hisconscience, decided for a
compromise, and said:
'I don't know. They may be eat.'
'So!' Hahn looked pleased. 'Zey vere fatter as you. Ze niggers keepyou to fatten, eh? Veil, Ephraim Meek, I save you, see? I bring youhere. You are safe. Of course, you must make yourself useful. Youshall eat, zerefore shall you vork. You shall find a pick or abasket--and zere is blenty of coal.'
Meek stroked his whiskers, looked at the German, then shook his head.
'No; I can't do it,' he said. 'Not coal.' Hahn laughed.
'You do look like a broken-kneed horse,' he said. 'Not equal to zeniggers; but you haf strength enough for zis job.'
'Not coal,' Meek repeated, in his mournful tones.
'Vy not coal? You are afraid to soil ze hands? Ach! Is coal moredirty as ze tar of your ropes? A seaman's hands! Ha! ha! You are funnyman, Meek!'
Hahn laughed heartily; it seemed to him a very good joke. Meek,however, had thrust his hands into his pockets and set his lipsdoggedly.
'Come,' said Hahn impatiently. 'Zis is to vaste time. You shall----'
'True, it is waste time,' Meek interrupted. Speaking with a firmnesswhich Grinson would hardly have recognised, he went on: 'I 'll dig nocoal for Germans, not I. I 'll not soil my hands with it. Not forGerman pirates. Never in the world.'
For a few moments Hahn stared at the seaman as though he were a strangeanimal, a curiosity in the natural world. Then he guffawed scornfully.
'So!' he ejaculated. 'You are a lord, eh? A prince, eh? You vill notvork, eh? And you exbect to haf good food for nozink, a broken-kneedswine of a sailor. Hans,' he cried, speaking in German, 'take thishound of an Englishman and tie him to yonder stump, and leave him thereuntil he comes to his senses. He refuses to work. Not a morsel offood, not a drop of water. See to that!'
The man grinned, laid aside his whip, came into the pen, and seized Meekby the arm. And then Meek belied his name. His mild countenance wastransfigured. Wrenching his arm from the German's grasp, he doubled hisfist, and let out with a drive that sent the man staggering back againstthe fence. Though his frame was slight, and his legs were neithershapely nor firm, he had not served a lifetime at sea without developinga certain muscular force. But his active resentment, natural as it was,was nevertheless unwise. The two Germans sprang on him together. Hisstruggles were vain. Twisting his arms, his captors dragged him out ofthe pen to the tree-stump which Hahn had indicated, and in a minute hadlashed him firmly to it. Hahn kicked him; the other picked up his whipand flicked the helpless prisoner, then rushed among the natives, whohad halted to watch the scene, and smote right and left among them.With a parting jeer, Hahn descended the path to the beach, leaving Hansin charge.
Meek's face was towards the sea, and he had a full view of the ledge andof the cove below. The natives passed in and out of the tunnel,glistening with perspiration, urged to utmost exertion by fear of themerciless whip. They tipped their baskets over the brink of the ledge,coughing as clouds of black dust rose and enveloped them. On the beachsome of the Raider's crew moved idly about. At the door of the shed Hahnstood talking to an officer, apparently the captain of the vessel; theyboth glanced up at the ledge, laughed, and evidently found amusement indiscussing the plight of their victim. Meek noticed that there were nouniforms among the Germans, but a something indefinable in their air andgait bred the conviction that they were men of the navy.
It was not long before Meek was suffering torture from the heat and hisbonds. He could not move either arms or legs; his throat was filledwith coal dust; he longed for water to moisten his parched lips. Nowand then the overseer passed him, grinning in his face, uttering wordsof mockery which affected Meek only by their tone. To him it was somuch ugly bad language. He spoke no word, did not deign to beg formercy, even though, as the hours passed, he felt that exhaustion andpresently death itself must overtake him. In this time of trial itappeared that a new spirit had assumed possession of him--or rather theold spirit of British seadogs, the spirit that would scorn to show signof flinching.
About midday Hahn came up to the ledge, and stood with arms akimbo,contemplating his prisoner.
'You see?' he said. 'You haf now enough? You vill obey?'
Meek gazed at him out of haggard eyes, but said never a word.
Hahn pointed to a man carrying a well-loaded tray into the officers'shed below.
'Blenty of food. Beer--English beer. A pint of 'alf-an'-'alf, eh?Zere is zome for you--ven you get coal. I am not hard, no. You say youvill dig, and I loose you--you shall haf a glass beer before you dig;zat is not hard? You say yes?'
Meek moved his tongue over his dry lips.
'Not for German pirates!' he muttered huskily.
'Pirates, you dog!' cried Hahn with a fierce scowl, and seemed to beabout to argue the point, but changed his mind. Cursing Meek as anEnglish fool, he went away.
During the greater part of the day Meek was partly shaded from the sunby the cliff towering behind him; but in the afternoon the rays beatupon his head, and his agony increased. With all his strength of willhe resisted the faintness that threatened to overpower him. He feltthat he must not give way before these black men, who passed up and downhour after hour until his bloodshot eyes were dazzled.
The time came for work to cease. Again the natives were herded into thepen, and the seamen brought them their food. The Germans jeered at thehelpless prisoner as they passed him; one of them dangled a pail ofwater under his eyes. Then exhausted nature could endure no more.Meek's head lolled forward. Hans rushed up, looked at him, and calleddown to the beach that the Englishman had fainted.
'Fling a pail of water over him!' shouted Hahn. 'I am coming.'
THE GERMAN FLUNG A PAIL OF WATER OVER THE UNCONSCIOUSMEEK.]
When Hahn appeared, Meek had revived.
'You are a fool!' cried the German angrily. He was feeling very sore.Meek had been the theme of discussion in the officers' mess, and Hahnhad had to endure a good deal of heavy raillery on his account. He wastold that he had been sent out to catch niggers; why had he burdenedhimself with a pig of an Englishman? Where had he found the man? Howhad a solitary Englishman, a seaman, come to be among natives in thisremote part of the island? They supposed he had been shipwrecked; thenwhy had Hahn not left the man to meet his fate among cannibals? Hahnwas in a difficulty, because he had said nothing about the other whitemen, told nothing about his rescue by them. His escape from thecannibals, according to his story, had been due to his own ingenuity.He could not satisfactorily account for Meek, and he wished that,instead of bringing him as a prisoner, he had knocked him on the head orshot him at once.
Now, however, he was actuated by another motive. The Englishman, to hisvast surprise, had defied him, and his fellow-officers had chaffed himabout it. The Englishman's spirit must be broken.
'You are a fool,' he repeated. 'You bring all zis on yourself.. Youshall haf food to-night; I am not hard, but you shall be tied up still.It is German discipline. To-morrow must you vork--understand? You arebad example to ze ozers. Zere is ze night for zinking. You shall zink.In ze morning you shall haf sense, and vork.'
'Never!' cried Meek hoarsely. 'Not coal. Not for German pirates!'
'Pig! I say you shall zink about it all night,' roared Hahn,exasperated. 'To-morrow you shall vork, or I vill shoot you dead.Understand?'
Meek made no reply. Hahn savagely bade Hans give him a little food andorder the sentries to keep an eye on him during the night. Then hereturned to the beach, and Meek was left to contemplate the prospect oftwelve hours' torture before a bullet put an end to it all.