CHAPTER XX--I RETURN TO THE SOLDIER'S TOMB
I had every reason to be filled with apprehension. I was going, of acertainty, into danger greater than any I had yet encountered. Whilstsearching in the Wood for John Bannister, my friend, I was like as notto fall in with Amos Baverstock; and if that should happen, I could hopefor little mercy.
Bannister--as Rushby had told me--was weak from illness and halfstarved,, so that much of his great strength of former days must havedeserted him, when most he had a need of it. Besides, I knew notwhether he were armed, for that was a question I had not stayed to askwhen I hurried forth from the ravine upon my quest.
I had therefore some cause to be afraid. And yet, in my heart, I wasglad as I had never been for months, as I raced upon my way into thedarkness of the Wood.
I was journeying towards my friend, the great man whom I had learned tohonour and admire upon the beach in Sussex. And I believed that theFates would not be so cruel to me that I should fail to find him. Ifelt that I would soon look upon him once again, feel the iron grasp ofhis hand, and behold the light of recognition in his kindly eyes.
Many hours of daylight were before me, when I entered the Wood of theRed Fish; and then, for the first time I think, I realised that my taskwas not an easy one. Had I started from the other side of the Wood, Ibelieve that I could have found the Spaniard's Tomb without much loss oftime; for I was by now well acquainted with that portion of the jungle.
But in this neighbourhood I was an utter stranger, though I had the sunto guide me whenever I caught glimpses of the daylight between theoverhanging branches of the trees. Also, I carried in my mind a veryperfect recollection of the map.
I saw that it was necessary above all else to calm myself, to think thematter out, instead of plunging into the business like a bolting horse.My destination was the Spaniard's Tomb, and I was in possession ofcertain valuable information, the most of which was quite unknown toAmos. The Wood of the Red Fish itself was diamond-shaped, the fourangles approximately directed towards the north, south, east, and west.Now, the Big Fish lay somewhere in the very centre of the Wood; and Ihad formerly journeyed to the place from the south, following the Brookof Scarlet Pebbles. This brook--as I had observed--flowed in anorth-westerly direction, towards the morass, which I had passed at theend of the ravine in which I had just left William Rushby.
During the earlier days when I had adventured all alone, when I haddiscovered both the Glade of Silent Death and the Tomb of Orellano'ssoldier, I am convinced that I had never crossed the Brook of ScarletPebbles. Indeed, I could scarce have done so without noticing at oncethe singular character of the stream. I had become, during these monthsextraordinarily observant; and my attention would certainly have beenattracted by the peculiar red stones with which the bed of the brook wasstrewn. Hence, by a simple process of deduction, I was forced to theconclusion that the Spaniard's Tomb must be somewhere in thenorth-westerly part of the Wood; and the reader will the betterunderstand me if he glances at the map which I myself have made, andwhich he must not think a facsimile of the real parchment map whereonthe Tomb was not even mentioned.
Map of the Wood of the Red Fish]
I was now, as I knew, somewhere on the southern side of the brook; andthat was the wrong side, if I was to find the Tomb with as little delayas possible. Aided, therefore, by the position of the morning sun, Idirected my footsteps in a northerly direction, and came early in theafternoon upon the Brook of Scarlet Pebbles, to the north of the BigFish. Thence, I decided to journey due eastward, hoping, sooner orlater, to come upon some place that I would recognise, which wouldinform me of my whereabouts.
Sunset overtook me when I was in the very heart of the jungle. Therewas just time to search for food before the darkness came; and then Ilay down to rest without venturing to light a fire.
I remember well that, at the time, I was surprised that I did not findmyself oppressed by the almost overwhelming sense of loneliness thathitherto had always come upon me when I journeyed by myself in the midstof the silent woods. But, now that I am old, and have thought much uponmany things, I have an explanation--howbeit somewhat mystical--toaccount for the happiness I then experienced. I knew that I was near myfriend.
I was fortified by memory. Thus it was with me. And more than that;for it looked as if I was to give a helping hand to the great strong manwhom I had seen first upon the Sussex coast, who had told me of thehooded crows, and to whose tales of travel I had listened eagerly, dayafter day, before ever Amos Baverstock and the like of him had steppedacross my path. I would find the Tomb--upon that I was determined. AndI would find Bannister as well. Perhaps he was sleeping, even then, nottwo hundred yards away from me, in that tangled, tropic wilderness.With so pleasant a reflection I fell sound asleep, and slept untildaylight wakened me and the birds and monkeys were stirring in thetrees.
I walked many miles that day, looking everywhere in vain for some treeor stream that I should recognise, for the burnt-out embers of an oldcamp-fire or the feathers of some bird that I myself had plucked andeaten. But I found nothing, until late in the afternoon, when I came,of a sudden, upon the dried-up skin of a small woodland deer.
There also were his bones, dried and whitened, all the flesh therefromdevoured by creeping insects. And, thinking it more than likely thatthis was the same deer that had served me for many a meal, when I firstwas come into the Wood--the same poor beast that had been crushed todeath by the great serpent that had lain in hiding beneath the water ofthe pool--I cast about me, and soon found the Glade of Silent Death. Andnow, I knew, I was on the right track to the Tomb, which from this placelay towards the south; for I had a first-hand knowledge of all thisportion of the Wood, where I had sojourned for many days.
Then an idea came to me whereby valuable time might be saved. I was notfar from the edge of the Wood, and if I could gain this before thedarkness came I might travel some distance southward by night, tocontinue my searching in the morning. Keeping, therefore, the settingsun at my back, I journeyed eastward, and came presently to opencountry, when I travelled a good two miles to the south by the light ofthe rising moon.
Late at night I rested, sleeping till daybreak; and then, entering theWood again, I found by chance one of my old camping-places, andfollowing my old trail for several hours came at last--as Iexpected--upon the Tomb of Orellano's soldier.
As it was then almost dark, I hastened immediately to the Tomb, andthrew back the stone slab. There was light enough for me to see at aglance that nothing had been touched. There were the white bones, thebreast-plate, sword and helmet--exactly as I had left them. I stoodirresolute a moment, looking down into the grave; and all at once, agreat fear possessed me that some calamity had overtaken Bannister.
I was here in advance of both him and Amos--which was more than I hadever hoped for. The next thing to decide was what to do, and--as willbe seen, in a moment--I was given no choice in the matter.
Fear spreads, I think, like fire. I was solicitous, at first, forBannister; and then I feared for myself. Or there may be something inthe notion that the evil that is in a man taints the very atmosphere inwhich he moves. At any rate, even as I thought of Amos Baverstock, Ibecame filled, on a sudden, with my old dread of him. I stoodshivering, as if from cold, beneath the trees, by the side of thatancient grave, whilst the darkness spread around me.
And then it was that the voice of Amos Baverstock himself came to myears with such startling suddenness that I was taken unawares. It wasjust as if I had received some kind of electric shock. I straightenedwith a jerk, and I verily believe that my heart itself stood still.
I had not been able to hear the exact words he used; but I knew only toowell the hard, strident tones of his voice. I think he called uponJoshua Trust to make haste and not to lag behind, and the language thathe used was vile as always.
I stood where I was, stock-still, like one transfixed. And then I heardthe breaking of the undergrowth, as someone rapidly approach
ed.
I felt much as a mouse must feel, when the trapdoor closes after him. Iwas spurred into sudden action. And yet there was nothing I could do.
If I rushed into the thickets, my enemies must hear me. And what chancehad my blow-pipe against a leaden bullet? I looked up at the treesaround me, and saw at once that there was not one that I could climbwithout a deal of trouble. And yet, Amos himself was coming nearer andnearer, as I could tell by the breaking of the underwoods and the deadsticks upon the ground. On a sudden, without a thought, I jumped downinto the Tomb, and pulled the stone slab into its place above me.
It is easy to say that this was the action of a fool. I attempt no morethan to relate what happened. That no man in a calm moment would havedone anything so rash and stupid, I would never for a moment deny. Iwas, however, very far from calm. If the truth be told, I was afraid.I hid my face like an ostrich--for that is all it comes to.
And as soon as I found myself lying at full length upon those white andaged bones in the darkness of the grave, I realised that I waslost--that it had been far better for me had I fled into the jungle.Amos himself must shift the slab to search the Tomb for the map that hebelieved he would find within.
And presently, through the opening in the slab, I heard, with adistinctness that was indeed alarming, the voice of the man himself.
"It is here!" he cried. "We've found it, as I said we would!"
From the certain fact that no one answered him, I judged that Baverstockwas alone; and I was the more sure of this, since I could hear thefootsteps of but a single man upon the thin stone above me. And I beganto reckon what my chances would amount to, if it came to a square fightbetween the two of us, with no one to intervene.
Then I remembered that I was unarmed; for I had left my blow-pipe aboveground, though the chances were that it was now so dark that he mightnot notice it. By the noise he made, his grunting and his mutteredoaths, I judged that he was searching for the means to lift the slab.
I touched the stone above me with my fingers; and when I felt it moving,I knew that the hour of my ordeal was come. I must fight and defendmyself, or die--and very likely both. I rose as the stone was lifted,and, as I did so, placed the Spaniard's helmet on my head and took upthe rusted sword.
Amos threw aside the slab, and then jumped backward, as I stood up inthe grave, waist-deep in mother earth.
It was that half-light which is neither night nor day--a weird andghostly light, pervading like a mist the shadows of the Wood. Smallwonder that that evil man thought that he beheld the resurrection of acorpse!
He let out a shriek--such a shriek as I never heard before orsince--that seemed as if it must have been audible for miles throughoutthe evening silence of the jungle. It was the shriek of one whose hairstands upright on his head. He stood before me quaking at the knees;and then he found his voice again.
"Mercy!" he cried.
And at that I rushed upon him with my sword.