CHAPTER XXIV
The Hurricane
"Hanged if I like the look of things," commented Beverley. "The glasshas fallen six-tenths in the last two hours, and the sunset lookslike a blurr of pea-soup. We're in for something before morning."
It was the evening of Villier's unpleasant experience and thediscovery of the _Fusi Yama_ gold. Work on the wreck had beensuspended for the rest of the day, although Jack pluckily volunteeredto make another descent with Swaine, and to begin the actual salvageof the treasure. This proposal Harborough had negatived. He believedin moderation.
"No use putting in one and a half working days in one if it takes twodays to get over it," he remarked. "I don't believe in making spurtsuntil I'm on the last lap."
Merridew, who was officer of the watch on shore, agreed withBeverley's observations about the sunset.
"I think we'll have the tents struck," he added. "We can sleep in thestore-house. That ought to stick it out. How will your buses get on,Alec?"
"Badly, if we don't do something," replied Claverhouse. "Come along,Trevear, old son; we've a job in front of-us before we go to roost."
"I'll bear a hand," volunteered Bell, and Griffiths, who was rarelyseparated from his particular chum, also offered his assistance.
Directly the four had gone to prepare the sea-planes for the expectedblow, Merridew levelled his telescope on the _Titania_.
"The Old Man knows his job," he remarked to Beverley. "They'refurling awnings and veering out additional cable. But I'm hanged if Ilike the look of things."
Just as the sun sank, leaving behind it an ill-defined blurr ofindigo-coloured clouds tinged with vivid copper-coloured streaks, therain began to fall heavily. Not a breath of wind stirred thebroad-leaved branches of the palm trees, although the big dropsthudded upon the foliage with a noise like the roll of a hundreddrums. In less than thirty seconds the _Titania_ was lost to sight inthe terrific downpour that obliterated everything beyond a distanceof fifty yards from the spot where Beverley stood.
Clad in oilskins and sou'wester, Bobby revelled in the warm rain. Hewaited until the short twilight had passed into intense darkness,then he rejoined the others in the hut.
"What, not turning in to-night, you fellows?" he inquired. "Perhapsit's as well. Wonder how the old _Titania_ will stand it?"
"Wonder how the old hut'll stick it, you mean," said Fontayne. "Asand-bagged dug-out on the side of the hill would be more the mark, Ifancy. By Jove, I don't envy Claverhouse and his breakdown gang."
"Any sign of a leak?" asked Bobby, casting anxious glances at thepalm-leaf thatch, on the outside of which the rain was falling downwith a noise like that made by a number of peas when violently shakenin a tin can.
"All right, so far," replied Fontayne, "but it looks as if the floorwill be flooded. Pity we hadn't dug a trench round outside."
"The ground slopes a bit," observed Swaine, "so the water won'tlodge. Hallo! I'm not so sure about it. Look here!"
A steady rivulet was finding its way in at the landward side of thehut. All hands hurriedly set to work to dig a runway to divert andkeep under control what promised to be a healthy little mountaintorrent.
In the midst of this operation Alec and his three companions arrived,drenched to the skin but nevertheless cheerful.
"Don't care if it rains ink," observed Claverhouse blithely. "We'vesecured the buses and removed the wings. Hope it doesn't blow toohard."
Even as he spoke there came a weird moaning noise from without,followed by a blow that shook the but to its foundations. It was thepreliminary announcement of a tropical hurricane. For full fiveminutes it lasted, creating a pandemonium of noises as the suppletrees bent and groaned under the furious blasts.
JACK WAS PINNED PRETTY FIRMLY AGAINST THE CEILING]
"Lucky the trees keep off most of the wind," said Bobby, raising hisvoice to make himself heard above the din. "Suppose we shift some ofthose heavy cases and pile 'em against the windward side."
All hands, with the exception of the recently-arrived working-party,who were in various stages of deshabille, set to work with a will,until a fairly-solid barricade was constructed on either side of thedoor up to the level with the eaves.
As suddenly as it had started the wind dropped to a flat calm. Therain, too, was lighter.
"Guess it's all over," remarked Griffiths. "It will be starlightoutside."
"No such luck," replied Bobby. "That's only a preliminary canter.While we're about it we may as well rig up a couple ofpreventer-shrouds to that hurricane-lamp. I didn't like the way itswayed about just now."
The second phase of the storm burst. This time the wind roared. Therewas no sinister whine in the furious rush of air, but there was nomistaking the strength of the blast. A palm tree, uprooted, camecrashing to earth, its leafed crest brushing against the side of thehut before it came to rest a good fifty feet away. Again and againthe side of the hut bulged ominously, while eddying gusts found theirway into the building, as if seeking a weak spot in the flimsy butstoutly-woven material.
The men stood silently alert. The noise of the elements crushed alldesire to talk. Momentarily they expected to see the hut torn fromits foundations and flung, like a discarded toy from the hand of afractious child, into the storm-swept night.
This outburst lasted a good ten minutes. Then followed a period ofcalm unaccompanied by rain. The eerie silence that succeeded thedeafening roar was almost as awe-inspiring as the hurricane.
"How's the old ship sticking it?" remarked Merridew. "I'll go out andhave a look round."
He could see nothing save a line of white as the rollers, forced overthe reef by the gale, lashed the beach.
Beyond all was in darkness. Whether the _Titania's_ anchors held orwhether she had been driven ashore there was no means of telling.
A long-drawn shrill whine warned him that it was high time to beat aretreat. He was not a moment too soon. He regained the hut, but ittook the united efforts of four men to close and secure the door.
No one spoke a word, but everyone realized that the third outburstwould be the worst, and perhaps the last. It came, accompanied byvivid flashes of lightning and ear-splitting peals of thunder thateven made the heavy cases reverberate. Mingled with the loud roar ofthe wind was that shrill, almost unearthly whine that means mischief.
Suddenly the interior of the hut was brightly illuminated by a flashof lightning. The roof, lifted by a particularly vicious squall, hadvanished, leaving a trail of violently eddying leaves and bamboorafters. Then, while the men were still blinded by the dazzlingglare, the wind backed a full four points, struck the roofless hut onits weakest side, and the next moment the building was levelled.
Buried beneath a mat-like mass of thatch, Beverley found himselfprostrate on the flooded ground. Someone's rubber-shod foot wasbeating a tattoo on his face as its wearer endeavoured to extricatehimself from an unenviable position.
As Bobby was regaining his feet another brilliant flash gave him abrief but vivid glimpse of his immediate surroundings. His comradeswere struggling through the debris, looking much like a litter ofhealthy puppies forcing their way through a covering of hay. Thebarricade of boxes had been overthrown, some of the cases lodgingagainst the trunks of the palm trees, nearly fifty feet away.
Many of the trees were bending until the tops nearly touched theground; others, uprooted, were hurled like straws against those stillstanding, and formed a gigantic lattice-work. A dozen yards away thekerosene-lamp, with its glass completely shattered, lay blazingfiercely, the heavy downpour of rain tending to spread the flames.
Guided by the blaze, Beverley made his way to the blazing pool ofoil. Close by he saw a large box with cryptic markings in red paint.It contained a couple of hundred pounds of high explosives--safe tohandle since the stuff had to be detonated by means of a primer, butnot proof against the attack of fire. Already the flames were lickingthe box, and only the fact that the woodwork was damp owing to thetorrential rain had prevented a disastrous explosion
.
Acting almost mechanically, yet conscious to a certain degree of therisk he ran, Beverley literally ploughed his way through the chaos ofbamboo and thatch and seized the rope-handle of the explosive-case.Desperation lent him the strength of a giant. With a mighty heave heshifted the heavy case a full yard to windward of the burning oil;then, walking backwards with his body inclined at an acute angle tothe slope of the ground, he dragged the deadly explosive well out ofharm's way.
Only when he desisted did he notice that the legs of his oilskintrousers were charred and smouldering still.
Aided by the frequent flashes of lightning and the now dying glare ofthe kerosene, the rest of the late occupants of the store-houseextricated themselves and each other from their awkward and dangerouspredicament, and in the blinding rain they made for the shelter ofthe palm groves, never halting till they had placed a full hundredyards between them and the outpost of trees that held out against thehurricane.
Even now the position of the shore-party was far from enviable. Everyman was soaked to the skin; most bore cuts or bruises, while Bell andMerridew were both badly knocked about by one of the packing-cases asthe barricade gave way before the blast.
"Think the _Titania_ stood it?" asked Merridew.
There was no reply. Every man had his doubts. Bobby was regrettingthe fact that he had refused to let Dick come ashore the previousafternoon.
For another hour the men sheltered in the palm grove. Here it wascomparatively calm, although the trunks were trembling with theeffect of the gale upon their verdant tops. To attempt to leave theirplace of refuge and go down to the beach meant striving to attain theimpossible. No one could face the full force of the blast in theopen.
At half-past two in the morning the wind died away as suddenly as ithad started; the stars shone in an unclouded sky, and only the debrisscattered in the glades and the unusually loud roar of the surfremained.
"It's all over," declared Beverley. "Let's make for the beach."
They arrived to find that the breakers were already being subdued bythe reef, on which the mountainous rollers were hurling themselves insullen fury. Pitching heavily as she rode with open hawse to thewaves was the _Titania_, standing out clearly against the starlitsky.
"I don't think she's dragged a yard," declared Bobby. "Jollylucky----"
"What's that?" interrupted Griffiths, pointing to something rollingin the undertow of the surface at a distance of a hundred yards fromthe beach.
The men rushed to the spot to find that the _Titania's_ cutter hadbeen torn from the davits and had been dashed ashore.
Watching his opportunity, Claverhouse waded waist-deep into the waterand secured the painter. All hands succeeded in hauling the boatbeyond the rush of the waves, but the mischief was already done. Herkeel, kelson, and garboards smashed, the boat was beyond repair.
"I'm off to have a look at the sea-planes," decided Alec. "Nothinglike keeping on the move when you're soaked to the buff. Come along,Trevear, old son."
The airmen departed. The others, unable to communicate with the ship,thought that activity was the best antidote to saturated clothing,and proceeded to set things in order.
It was a big task. Their first objects of attention were the threeboats that were kept ashore at night. Fortunately they had beenhauled up well above high-water mark and secured by their painters tosome stout trees, while a line and grapnel had been laid out from thestern of each. Even then it had been touch and go. Only the heavydownpour preceding the hurricane had prevented the boats from beinghurled away, the weight of the water in the bilges being barelysufficient to counterbalance the lifting-force of the wind.
They found the three boats nearly filled to the thwarts with water,sand, and lumps of coral.
Having pulled out the plugs and allowed the water to drain from theboats, the men proceeded to the site of the store-house, and set towork to collect the scattered cases.
"Look!" exclaimed Swaine, pointing to the box of explosives. "We'vehad a narrow squeak, lads. The wood's charred."
"So it is," agreed Merridew. "How? It's yards from the blaze causedby the lamp. Lightning, perhaps. Don't you think so, Beverley?"
"P'r'aps," replied Bobby. "Anyone got any dry tobacco? Mine's awash-out."