CHAPTER XIX
Missing
"Hanged if I can wait about for the moon to rise, Jack. It will betwo mortal hours before it's much use to us," declared BobbyBeverley. "Game to carry on at once?"
"Right-o," assented Villiers; "but I'm afraid we won't do much. Can'tsee your hand in front of your face, so to speak. Wish we had a gooddog here."
"We'll try with the Aldis," rejoined Beverley.
"Right-o," agreed his chum for the second time. "Let's get a moveon."
From the store they procured an Aldis lamp and battery. The lamp,primarily intended for flashing signals (it was powerful enough toenable a message to be sent over a distance of five miles in broaddaylight), could be used as a miniature and portable searchlight,although the weight of the case containing the cells wasconsiderable.
"Perhaps," suggested Villiers, as the two men plunged into thecoco-palm groves, "perhaps the young blighter's taken it into hishead to scale one of the peaks and can't find his way down."
"Hope not," replied Beverley. "Dashed if I fancy climbing a thousandfeet or so of lava rock. 'Sides, he must have heard us shouting allover the show."
"Possibly," admitted Villiers. "But he might not be able to let usknow."
"Had a rifle."
"And a handful of cartridges. And a handful wouldn't last a whole daywith a boy on his own for the first time with a real rifle."
For nearly twenty minutes they proceeded in silence, following atrack recently made through the dense undergrowth.
"Trouble is," remarked Beverley, "we've been acting like bulls in achina-shop on the previous stunt. If Dick left a trail we'veobliterated it."
"We have," admitted Villiers. "S'pose we weren't born trackers, anyof us. It's like collaring a skilled woodcraft man and sending himafloat. He would be all at sea in a double sense."
He stopped and swung the rays of the lamp upon a clump of palms.
"I remember this spot," he continued. "Do you notice how curiouslythese trunks shoot up? A sort of kink in them. Merridew and his partytook that path; we, if you recollect, bore away to the right, andTrevear and Claverhouse carried straight on. If we bear away to theleft I fancy we'll be striking a fresh trail."
There was a path of sorts. Whether any of the _Titania's_ crew otherthan Dick Beverley had traversed it remained for the present a matterfor speculation. The ground was covered with the decaying vegetationof years and showed no trace of footprints, although the undergrowthon both sides gave indications of being forced aside.
"Pigs, no doubt," commented Villiers, when Bobby called his attentionto the trampled saplings. "Hallo! though; what's this?"
The brilliant rays of the Aldis lamp lighted up a small glitteringobject. It was a cartridge-case.
"Lee-Enfield, .303," declared Beverley, picking up and sniffing atthe brass cylinder. "Fired recently; I can smell burnt corditedistinctly. We're on the trail."
Twenty yards farther on the shelving ground was stained by a quantityof blood, the dark-red stain continuing at regular intervals.
"Good enough," remarked Villiers. "Young Dick shot a pig and woundedit pretty badly. The brute got away and he followed it."
"Hope to goodness it isn't Dick's blood," said Bobby anxiously. "Theyoungster might have put a bullet through his leg or arm byaccident."
"If so, he would have turned back," reasoned Jack; "no, it's awounded pig's trail."
Two hundred yards farther on they stumbled over the body of thevictim of Dick's rifle.
The animal was stone dead. On examination the two men discovered twobullet-wounds. One, a fairly-deep one in the pig's flank, hadaccounted for its comparatively long flight before collapsing throughloss of blood. The other, obviously fired at close range, had passedcompletely through the pig's head.
"So Master Dick, instead of administering the _coup de gr?ce_ in theorthodox manner, wasted another cartridge on the animal," commentedVilliers. "The pig's been dead for at least three or four hours. Now,what's the next move?"
The narrow path, evidently the "runway" of a porcine herd, terminatedabruptly at what appeared to be a cul-de-sac.
"He retraced his steps," declared Beverley.
"No jolly fear," protested his companion. "He wouldn't have left histrophy lying here unless he went on, intending to get it again on thereturn journey. Bring that light a bit lower, old thing; that'sright. Yes, I thought so."
Close to the ground was a narrow, tunnel-like gap in the undergrowth.This the two men negotiated on their hands and knees, to findthemselves in a wide, sloping expanse of open country devoid of treesand dotted by a few stunted bushes.
"Which way now?" inquired Bobby, as the two chums regained theirfeet.
Villiers did not reply.
"Switch off that light for half a tick," he said.
Beverley did so. For some seconds they stood blinking in the suddentransition from dazzling light to intense darkness.
"What's the move?" asked Beverley.
"I thought--might have been mistaken, though. Ah! there you are;what's that?"
At a considerable distance away--how far it was impossible to gaugewith any degree of accuracy--a feeble ray of light stabbed thedarkness--three short, three long, and then three short flashes.
"S.O.S.," exclaimed Villiers and Beverley simultaneously.
"Switch on again," continued the former. "Keep behind me. I've got apocket compass."
Taking a rough bearing of the direction of the distress signal,Villiers began to walk rapidly towards its source of emission,Beverley following a good ten paces behind, and throwing the beam ofthe Aldis lamp ahead in order to enable Villiers to make his way overthe rather rough ground, much of which consisted of "rotten" lava andboulders of various sizes.
Above the moan of the off-shore breeze they could hear the roar ofthe surf. They had almost gained the other side of the island.
Suddenly Villiers came to a halt. A precipice yawned at his feet. Howdeep it was he was unable to see until his companion came up with thelight.
"Be careful," he cautioned. "The edge is pretty soft. Hand me thelamp and hang on to my feet."
Possessing himself of the Aldis lamp, Villiers lay prone upon thebare ground, while Bobby, hardly able to control his feelings,gripped his companion's ankles.
They were on the edge of a terraced cliff that rose a good eightyfeet above a shelving beach. Twenty yards from the base was DickBeverley.
"You all right, Dick?" shouted his brother.
"All right so far," was the reply. "Ankle's a bit sprained."
"We'll soon be with you," rejoined Bobby reassuringly.
It was easier said than done, for although there were five or sixnatural terraces, the cliff looked formidable enough in the deflectedrays of the lamp.
"Better wait till the moon rises, old bird," counselled Villiers. "Itwon't be long now."
"That won't help us much," objected Bobby. "We're on the west side ofthe island, remember. How did you climb down, Dick?" he inquired,raising his voice.
"I didn't climb--I was pushed," answered Dick resentfully.
Villiers swept the edge of the cliff with the powerful light. Away tothe right the land terminated in a low promontory certainly not morethan twenty feet in height and a good three hundred yards distant. Tothe left the cliff rose still higher, terminating in a projectingcrag a full two hundred feet above the sea.
"We'll be with you in half an hour," he shouted.
"Right-o; no immediate hurry," replied Dick cheerfully, for knowingthat help was at hand his spirits rose accordingly.
"What a ghastly spot," declared Beverley, as the men cautiously madetheir way round in the direction of the shelving promontory. "Looksas if there had been a volcanic eruption here not so very long ago."
"Centuries ago, perhaps," replied Villiers. "Lack of vegetationdoesn't help us much to fix a date. I'd like to explore this show inbroad daylight."
"We may have to," added Bobby. "How we are going to get that kid backto the ship in the
dark puzzles me. We'd possibly find ourselvesbushed."
"It's a sad heart that never rejoices," quoted Jack. "Main thing iswe've found your brother. Sprained ankle's nothing. Wonder what hemeant when he said he was pushed? Look out--that's a nasty one."
He pulled up just in time to avoid a deep and narrow fissure that ranpractically at right angles to the general trend of the cliffs.
"We can scramble down that," decided Bobby, "and save a long detour."
"And perhaps find ourselves stranded on the next terrace. I'm nothaving any, old thing. If you want to indulge in a sprained anklejust to show sympathy to your brother, then that's your funeral."
Beverley saw the force of the argument.
"Right-o," he replied simply; but it occurred to him that for once atleast the two chums were exchanging characteristics. He was usuallycautious, while Villiers was of a boisterous, go-ahead nature. NowVilliers displayed caution, while he, Beverley, was decidedlyimpulsive.
"I'd do it like a shot," continued Jack, "if there were any pressingnecessity for it, but there isn't. Dick is in no immediate danger. Ifwe slipped then Harborough would have three useless people on hishands. Stand by with that lamp."
Guided by the beam of light Jack jumped the intervening gap, adroitlycaught the bulky apparatus, and waited until Bobby had safely crossedthe crevice.
Beyond that point progress was comparatively simple, and presentlythey found themselves on the sandy shore of the lagoon.
"Let's see the extent of the damage, Dick," said his brother, whenthe rescuers arrived at the shelving ground where the injured ladlay.
"Nothing much," declared Dick. "Ankle twisted. It's quite all rightwhen I don't move; when I do it gives me what-oh!"
Bobby was busy wrapping handkerchiefs soaked in salt water round theswollen limb.
"Tell us what happened," he invited.
"Not much to tell," replied Dick. "I got one pig all right, then Ithought I'd done enough in that line for the time being, so I startedto explore a bit. I was standing on the cliff up there when I heard aterrific lot of grunting, and a big brute with a large pair of tuskscame charging this way. That spoilt the contract. Although I promisednot to shoot more than one pig I wasn't going to be charged by apocket edition of a rhinoceros."
"It was a boar, perhaps," suggested Jack.
"Might have been; it bore me over the top of the cliff, anyhow,"rejoined Dick, laughing at his own joke--a laugh that ended in a wryface as a twitch of pain shot through the ankle. "I let rip at thebrute at ten paces, but I must have missed it. The next thing Iremember was being bowled over, rolling and bumping until I came to astop about here. Seen anything of my rifle, Bob?"
"I'll look for it," said Villiers, again switching on the lamp.
It was but a few paces to the foot of the lowermost cliff terrace.Within a yard of the base, and lying in a slight depression of softground, was the porker that was responsible for young Beverley'spresent condition. It was stone dead. The .303 bullet had entered itshead just below the base of the skull and had emerged out of theanimal's hind-quarters.
Close by was the rifle, apparently undamaged by its fall except thatthe muzzle was choked with earth.
Villiers returned and reported what he had found.
"We ought to be making tracks," he observed. "The moon's up, althoughshe's still behind the palm trees. Harborough and the rest of thecrush ought to be on the war-path by this time. I'll try the signalfor recall, but I don't think it'll be of much use."
He flashed the Aldis obliquely skywards, and Morsed a message to theeffect that everything was O.K.
"Now for home!" he added. "Good four miles round by the shore, isn'tit?"
"Better than risking a short cut inland," said Bobby. "We'll leavethe lamp here and fetch it later on. I'll carry Dick on my back."
Lifting the patient on his brother's back was no easy task. It wasdecidedly painful as far as Dick was concerned, but the lad kept astiff upper lip.
Fortunately the hard sand afforded good going, but at the end oftwenty minutes Bobby was unfeignedly glad to transfer his burden toJack's broad shoulders.
Upon rounding the north-eastern extremity of the island their pathwas flooded with brilliant moonlight, for hitherto they had been inthe deep shadows cast by the beetling cliffs. On their right lay thedense palm groves, the broad leaves waving in the light breeze; ontheir left the placid waters of the lagoon, backed by the undulatingline of creamy foam that marked the ceaseless battle between the seaand the coral reef.
Bobby halted and raised one hand.
"Hark!" he exclaimed.
Above the dull roar of the surf and the gentle hush of the foliagecould be distinguished men's voices. Harborough and his party werestill searching.
"Ahoy!" roared Jack. "That's done it," he added; "they've heard us."
Five minutes later half a dozen of the _Titania's_ crew, headed byHarborough and with Pete bringing up the rear, arrived upon thescene. The rest of the crew were roaming over the other side of theisland.
"There's one thing," remarked Harborough in a low voice to Villiers,"we shan't have our rest disturbed tomorrow night prowling around forthe youngster. I was afraid he had shot himself. What did he shoot,by the by?"
"Two pigs," replied Jack.
"Hurrah, massa!" shouted Pete, who happened to overhear theconversation. "Roast pork to-morrow!"
"Right-o, Pete!" rejoined Villiers. "You can jolly well help to bringin the meat."