Kitabı oku: «Strange Adventures of Eric Blackburn», sayfa 11

But as the day progressed, and the fire advanced, spreading ever more rapidly as great volumes of sparks were borne by the wind on ahead of the main body of flame, kindling subsidiary fires in advance, I began to doubt whether West Island would escape, remembering as I did that there was a stretch of the Middle Channel which was little more than half a mile wide, across which such a tremendous volume of sparks as now filled the air might easily be wafted. Toward evening my anticipation in this respect was verified, for upon ascending to the summit of our own peak on Eden, at the conclusion of our day’s work, we saw that not only was the surface of Apes’ Island an unbroken expanse of black, smoking ashes and charred tree-stumps, but that the fire had leaped Middle Channel, and practically the whole eastern side of West Island was a mass of flame. The destruction of life would of course be enormous; but such glimpses as had thus far been afforded us of the animal life upon the group seemed to indicate that it was inimical to mankind; and if its destruction involved that of the apes, it was not to be greatly regretted.

I waited three days to allow the ashes to cool, and then, taking Billy with me, sailed for the Middle Channel, running the boat ashore on Apes’ Island at a spot where a stream of fresh water discharged into the narrowest part of the channel. Here we landed, and started to walk eastward over and through ashes that were ankle-deep and in places still unpleasantly hot. I was quite prepared to find evidences that the destruction of animal life had been tremendous; but even so I was amazed at the innumerable scorched and shrivelled carcasses of creatures that had made their way to the water’s edge and had there perished, probably suffocated by the smoke because they had feared to take to the water. They lay thick upon the ground, huddled together, as far as the eye could reach to the right and left of the spot where we landed, and the odour of burnt flesh was almost overpowering, while flies and birds swarmed about them in legions. The remains were mostly so far consumed as to be impossible of identification, but here and there we came upon what, judging from the skull and teeth, had once been a creature of the cat tribe, probably a leopard; while the skeletons of snakes — some of them, from their dimensions, evidently pythons — were numerous. We also came upon several carcasses of what I thought might have been boars; but, if they were, the creatures must have been huge specimens of their kind. There were also a few calcined skeletons of animals that must have been as big as or bigger than a British dray-horse, but of very different build. They did not suggest any animal with which I was acquainted, and I was quite unable to put a name to them. We walked two miles or more inland before turning back, but nowhere did I see anything suggesting the destruction of so much as a solitary ape, at which I was in nowise surprised, for I felt sure that the apes at least would be able to keep well ahead of the fire, and make good their escape to West Island. But West Island was, like Apes’ Island, a fire-blackened ruin as far as the eye could see, toward both the north and the south; and if the fire had swept clean across the island to its western shore, it would mean another holocaust, in which the apes also would be involved, for there was no retreat, no sanctuary beyond West Island. It was too late to push our investigations farther that day, but I resolved that on the morrow I would see what the western side of West Island looked like. Accordingly, eight o’clock in the morning of the following day found Billy and me emerging from the North-west Channel into the lagoon, and hauling round to the southward to skirt the western shore of West Island.

We needed not to travel so far as this, however, to discover that at least part of West Island had escaped the ravages of fire, for upon our arrival off the south-western extremity of Cliff Island we saw that, owing to the greatly increased width of the Middle Channel at that point, the direction of the wind, and the peculiar configuration of the island itself, an area which I roughly estimated at about a hundred square miles, at its northern extremity, had been untouched by the flames; and this area of forest, although probably little more than a quarter of that of the whole island, would still afford cover for a good many animals, had they the sense — or the instinct — to escape to it.

It was not until we had rounded the northern extremity of West Island and had followed the west coast southward for a distance of about eleven miles that we again came upon the ruin wrought by the flames, which, we found, had swept right across the island, leaving the area above referred to untouched, while to the southward, as far as the eye could see, all was black ruin and desolation. At this point, too, signs of the devastation wrought upon the animal life of the island began to reveal themselves in the shape first of isolated carcasses, and then of groups of the same, rapidly becoming more numerous and more crowded as the boat glided along southward within a stone’s throw of the beach.

As I was exceedingly anxious to discover whether or not the apes had escaped the destruction that had overtaken the other creatures inhabiting the two fire-stricken islands, we landed at various points along the beach, and made short investigating excursions inland, coming upon the remains of animals and reptiles of several different kinds — the variety indeed was astonishing — including, I regretted to see, two or three varieties of deer; and at length we found the half-consumed carcasses of three apes, close together; but we found no more that day. It was by this time drawing on toward sunset; accordingly we made sail for the wreck of the brigantine, and took up our quarters aboard her for the night.

Early on the following morning we resumed our inspection of West Island, starting at the point where we had left off on the previous evening, and on this day we came upon the remains of two more apes, several miles apart. But although those five carcasses of apes were all that we found, it was of course quite possible that there might have been many more, for our excursions inland were necessarily of very limited extent. To have made anything approaching a complete examination of the burnt area would have been the work of weeks, rather than of days, and I was indisposed to devote very much time to such an undertaking. Moreover, the effluvium arising from so many rapidly decomposing carcasses was, of itself, a sufficient deterrent.

But slight and limited as was our examination, it sufficed to prove that the island must have literally swarmed with animal life, several species of which were, as in the case of those found on Apes’ Island, quite new to me; and late in the day, having extended our walk to the crest of a hill, we discovered that there was, a little south of the middle of the island, a triangular-shaped lake, about six miles long by about five miles broad at its western end, that had served to protect and preserve a clump of forest about two miles long; and the sounds that proceeded from it indicated that many animals had found sanctuary there. By the time that we had completed our survey it was too late to think of returning to Eden that day, so we again bore up for the wreck, spending that night aboard her and returning to our own island on the day following.

On our way back I touched at Cliff Island and had a chat with Bowata, relating to him the result of our trip of inspection. I told him that we had seen very few dead apes, and hazarded the conjecture that the brutes, retreating before the flames on their own island, had swum the Middle Channel to West Island, on the northern and unburnt portion of which they might have established themselves. But when he suggested that this portion also of the island should be set on fire, to make assurance doubly sure, I very strongly demurred, pointing out that, even if my conjecture should be correct, the unburned forest would doubtless be swarming with animal life other than that of the apes, and that it would be a very great pity to destroy it all in order to effect the extermination of the apes, unless such a drastic measure should prove to be imperatively necessary.

After the little break following upon the firing of Apes’ Island I returned with enthusiasm to work upon the cutter, and in the course of a month used up all the available material which I had thus far accumulated, necessitating another visit to the wreck to obtain more. I collected as large a quantity as I believed I could conveniently handle, and, forming it into a raft, took it in tow for transport to Eden. The passage, that under ordinary conditions could easily be accomplished in a single day, occupied five days, and was, I think, the toughest job I had ever undertaken in my life, the raft being so deadly sluggish in movement that it was impossible to tow it to windward; and finally I found myself compelled to kedge it more than half the way. But I was glad when I had at length brought it safely into the cove and anchored it there, for I now had enough material to carry on with for at least four months. I estimated that another raft of equal size would suffice to complete the cutter, and, notwithstanding the difficulties that I had just encountered, I felt strongly inclined to return forthwith to the wreck and procure a sufficiency for all future needs; but I was very tired after my labours, and I finally persuaded myself to postpone the task for a while — to my subsequent intense regret.

The anniversary of the wreck of the Yorkshire Lass arrived and passed. We had been a whole year on the group, and, so far as we knew, not a solitary sail of any description had come within sight of the islands during the whole of those twelve months. It was an astounding, incomprehensible fact; I had never really anticipated such a possibility. With the passage of each day, each week, each month, I had said to myself — with gradually waning assurance certainly — “It cannot be long now before a craft of some sort comes along to take us off,” until the moment when it suddenly dawned upon me that if we were ever to escape, it must be through our own efforts — my own especially. This conviction now came upon me with overwhelming force; my hopes of deliverance by means of some extraneous agency suddenly sank to zero, and I began to work with such febrile energy that it presently drew from Billy a steadily growing flood of remonstrance.

I had by this time expended so much of my material that I was in the very act of preparing for another visit to the wreck to obtain more when poor Billy fell sick of some sort of a fever. Within three hours of his seizure he became delirious and was so extremely violent that — he being by this time a strong sturdy boy — I was obliged to at once drop everything else to look after him and see that he did not injure himself during the more severe paroxysms. Of course I had long ago taken the precaution to secure possession of the ship’s medicine-chest, with its accompanying book of instructions; but the latter afforded me little help, for I could find in it no case the symptoms of which quite corresponded with those of my patient, and I was therefore compelled to rely very much upon my own judgment, and upon the instructions for the treatment of fevers in general. A liberal administration of quinine seemed to constitute the most hopeful form of treatment, and luckily we possessed an ample supply of the drug. I accordingly dosed Billy with it for close upon sixty hours, when the delirium ceased and the poor boy sank into a semi-stupor of exhaustion, which enabled one of the native women to relieve me by watching at the patient’s bedside. I had by this time been without sleep for two nights and more than three days, and I was therefore glad enough to be free to retire to my own room to rest for an hour or two. Arrived there, I removed my boots and then, without troubling to remove further clothing, flung myself upon my bed and instantly sank into complete oblivion.

Chapter Thirteen. We exterminate the Apes

I was aroused to consciousness by the flash of a dazzling light upon my closed eyelids, accompanied by the crash of a terrific clap of thunder. Opening my eyes I discovered that the room was in opaque darkness — showing that I must have been allowed to sleep at least eight hours; but even as I swung my feet to the floor and started to grope for my boots, while the reverberations of the thunder-clap still rumbled and echoed in the distance, there came another blinding flash of lightning, instantly followed by a deafening crash of thunder; and, getting my bearings by the illumination of the lightning, I started to my feet and, forgetting my boots, rushed to Billy’s bedside, apprehensive of what might be the effect of the storm upon him.

I found the patient not only awake but also in his right mind.

“Well, Billy, my boy, how are you by this time?” I demanded.

“I believe I’m better, thank you, Mr Blackburn,” replied the boy; “but I feel very weak and — oh, goodness! isn’t it hot?”

It was. I had just found time to become aware of the excessive heat and closeness of the atmosphere. The perspiration was simply streaming from every pore of my body, and I felt suffocating for want of sufficient air. All the doors and windows of the bungalow were wide open, but the atmosphere was absolutely stagnant, the naked flame of a newly ignited lamp burning without the faintest flicker.

One of our native domestics was now busying herself arranging the table in what we called the “dining-room”, and in laying out the materials for a supper for me — for it now appeared that I had slept for nearly fourteen hours on end, and the good woman insisted that I must have a meal at once. While these preparations were in progress I went out and stood under the veranda to take a look at the weather.

The thunder-clap that had broken in upon my slumbers proved to be the prelude to a terrific electrical disturbance which was now in full action. The centre of the disturbance appeared to be almost immediately overhead, for flash after flash of lightning was striking all round the house, while the detonations of the thunder were continuous and so violent that I felt the floor literally tremble beneath my feet. But the lightning was not confined to discharges from the cloud overhead, it was darting earthward all round us, and practically at all distances from zenith to horizon; and so frequent were the discharges that the illumination from them was continuous, revealing a vault packed with enormous masses of heavy, black, writhing cloud. I stood for perhaps five minutes fascinated by the spectacle of the vivid lightning-play; and then, just as the native woman came out to announce that my supper was ready, down came the rain in a perfect deluge; and in a moment the eaves of the house, the foliage of the trees, and the earth itself poured with soft, warm water. It was too good an opportunity to be wasted, so I hurried to my own room, threw off my clothes, seized a morsel of soap, and, dashing out to the midst of the downpour, treated myself to a most delightful and refreshing bath, as a preliminary to supper.

The rain continued for about half an hour, and then it ceased with that abruptness which seems so characteristic of the tropics. But it had scarcely come to an end when there arose a loud rustling of leaves among the trees in the garden and round about the house, a blast of hot wind poured in through the open doors and windows, violently slamming the former and causing the latter to rattle furiously; and I had barely time to rush and close them all when a terrific squall came roaring down upon the bungalow. This squall was only the precursor of several that followed each other at rapidly decreasing intervals until those intervals became so brief as to be no longer distinguishable, and the wind settled into a roaring gale from the westward that blew all night and did not break until close upon noon next day.

As luck would have it, I had chosen the eastern slope of the peak as the site upon which to erect the bungalow, consequently the structure was, to a very great extent, sheltered from the gale by the hill behind it; but, even so, the building quivered and shook under the stroke of the blasts. And my heart sank as I thought of the wreck, for I felt that she had not one chance in a thousand of weathering it out. She was on what was now the windward reef — as it had been when she struck upon it; the surf would pile up on the reef again, raising the level of the water by perhaps three or four feet, and in that case the poor old Yorkshire Lass would be washed off the coral into the lagoon, and would there sink. And with her would go all the material that I needed for the completion of the cutter.

Then there was the cutter herself, or at least as much of her as had thus far been put together. How would she stand the buffeting to which she was being subjected? I was hopeful, for she was at this time merely a skeleton, and a very imperfect skeleton at that; consequently there would not be much for the wind to take hold of; yet I was anxious too, for I feared lest the heavy rain might have displaced some of the keel blocks and so let the craft down and perhaps strained her out of shape. So anxious, indeed, was I that I would have gone down to the cove at once, despite the fury of the wind, but the night was so pitch dark that I could have seen nothing; nor, single-handed, could I have done anything, whatever might have happened; so I was perforce obliged to defer my visit until daylight. But when daylight came I fought my way down to the cove, against the gale that was still blowing, and there found, to my inexpressible relief, that nothing had happened but what could be put right in an hour or two.

I was naturally most anxious to ascertain what, if anything had happened to the wreck, but it was not until nearly a week after the gale that Billy had progressed so far toward recovery that I was able to leave him entirely to the care of the natives. When, however, that moment arrived I took immediate advantage of it, starting for the scene of the wreck immediately after an early breakfast, and enjoining Billy not to be anxious should I be detained until the next day.

With a fair wind all the way the boat made short miles of the trip, and I reached the scene of the wreck fairly early in the afternoon; but at least an hour before my arrival my worst fears were realised, for where the wreck had once been there was now no sign of her. But I knew pretty well where to look for her, and, coasting along the inner edge of the reef, I ultimately came upon her within a few fathoms of the reef, sunk in six fathoms of water, and of course irrevocably lost to us. I thought, however, that possibly some useful wreckage might be floating about in the lagoon. I therefore worked the boat over to West Island beach, near to which I did indeed find a few planks and some small odds and ends that had broken adrift or floated off when the wreck went down, and these I formed into a small raft which I towed round to Eden on the following day.

But when I looked from the skeleton of the cutter to the small quantity of material available for her completion, my heart sank within me, and I felt utterly discouraged, for what I had was ridiculously inadequate. It was not enough even to complete the shell of the craft; and where on earth was I to get more? There were, of course, thousands of trees on the group, and I had an axe with which to fell them; but when they were felled, how was I to convert them into plank and scantling? It was a problem which I puzzled over during the whole day succeeding my return to Eden, seeking in vain for a solution, until at last it seemed that we were really doomed to remain where we were until taken off by a ship, even though we should grow old while awaiting her arrival.

Such a conclusion would doubtless have been terribly discouraging to many people, but after the first shock its effect upon me was, on the contrary, so provocative that I resumed work upon the cutter with more resolution than ever, if that were possible, until, some six weeks later, I had used up all my available material, and my work was perforce brought to a standstill. But when this happened I had made such progress that the cutter was planked up to the gunwale with the first thickness of planking; and so thoroughly satisfied was I with my work that I was determined nothing should prevent its completion, even though, to provide the necessary material, I should be compelled to pull down the bungalow and break up our sailing boat. Such forcible measures as those, however, demanded the most careful consideration before adoption.

Meanwhile the rank luxuriance of tropical plant-growth had already changed the fire-blackened areas of Apes’ and West Islands to varying tints of delicate green, the several varieties of new vegetation seeming to find congenial conditions in the thick coat of ashes resulting from the fire. But I learned from Bowata, whose people had been maintaining a close watch upon both islands, that thus far no signs of animal life had been detected upon either of them, although the chief agreed with me that, whatever might be the case with Apes’ Island, West Island — or at least the unburnt part of it — must be simply swarming with living creatures. And the conviction that this was so was causing him and his people so much uneasiness that a permanent watch had been established at the western end of Cliff Island, and the natives resident there, to the number of forty, had all been armed with bows and arrows, that they might be prepared to repel possible incursions of apes from that part of West Island, the channel at that point being but little wider than that which the apes were wont to swim when crossing from their own island.

The liability to incursions by the apes seemed to be the only source of anxiety on the part of Bowata and his people. In all other respects they appeared to be perfectly happy; for their wants were few, and so fertile was the soil of their own island that it amply supplied all those wants, with very little exertion on the part of the easy-going inhabitants. The trouble was that the products of their industry unfortunately appealed so strongly to the appetite of the anthropoids that, to gratify it, the brutes were willing to swim a channel a mile wide. And the trouble was serious enough, in all conscience, for — as I gradually learned, in the course of frequent conversations with the chief — the apes not only destroyed far more than they ate, but, until my introduction of the bow and arrow as a weapon, they were only driven off with the utmost difficulty, and frequently with serious loss of life on the part of the savages. It was indeed to put an effectual end to those frequent raids upon their property that the natives, in desperation, had finally resorted to the drastic measure of setting fire to the island that harboured the monsters.

The longer I meditated upon the problem of how to meet the shortage of material for the completion of the cutter the more reluctant did I become to resort to so extreme a measure as the breaking up of the sailing boat, still more the bungalow, to supply the deficiency. In my perplexity I visited East Island, and here a possible way out of the difficulty was suggested to me by the discovery — as I then for the first time particularly noticed — that certain of the trees flourishing on that island appeared to be if not actually cedars at least a species very nearly akin thereto. And if upon closer investigation this should prove to be the case, here was a supply of timber admirably suited to my requirements and ample beyond my utmost needs. It was a matter worthy of my most particular attention; and accordingly I selected a group of the supposed cedars, and forthwith proceeded to operate upon them. They were three in number, of just about the right size for my requirements, and they were within a quarter of a mile of the cove. I began my investigation by hacking off a good stout branch, stripping off its bark, and testing its working qualities. I found that the wood gave off the characteristic odour of cedar; that it was close-grained; that it was easily workable; and that it was, in short, everything I could possibly desire. I therefore started work in earnest by felling the tree that I had already attacked and trimming off its branches. This brought my day’s work to a close, and I returned to Eden with a mind relieved of a heavy load of anxiety, for there was now no longer any need to contemplate the breaking up of either the boat or the bungalow.

True, I had found the wood I required; but what I needed was thin planks, not heavy balks of timber such as one might be able to hew out of a tree trunk with an axe; and how was I to obtain those planks? I considered the matter and suddenly remembered that cedar splits easily; I therefore determined to ascertain by actual experiment whether it would be possible to procure the planks I required by splitting the felled trunk. The experiment was on the whole successful; for although I wasted more timber than I anticipated I nevertheless succeeded in securing several very fine planks that, when operated upon with the plane, could be reduced to the exact thickness required. Thus encouraged, I made an estimate of the quantity of planking required to complete the hull of the cutter, and then proceeded to fell as many trees as were needed to furnish that quantity.

It was while I was thus engaged that I one day received an urgent visit from Bowata and his son, who came in great distress to inform me that the watchers posted at the western extremity of Cliff Island, to guard against a surprise attack on the part of the apes believed to have retreated to West Island, had that morning reported that the anthropoids were recrossing the Middle Channel to Apes’ Island; and that, from observation of the creatures’ movements, it was strongly suspected that they meditated an attack in force upon Cliff Island and its inhabitants. Bowata concluded his communication with an entreaty that I would lend my aid to repel the threatened attack. I at once acceded to this request, and, with the two natives aboard the sailing boat and their punt in tow, proceeded to Eden, where I collected all the arms and ammunition we possessed, and, taking Billy with me, made sail for Cliff Island.

As we approached the northern extremity of Apes’ Island, from which point the brutes usually started on their swim across the channel to Cliff Island, my telescope revealed numerous apes clustered together upon the beach, while many others could be seen wending their way toward the same spot; but I could see none in the water, so concluded that the threatened raid had not yet started. I inquired of Bowata how many of his people were now armed with bows and arrows, and was gratified to learn that every male above the age of fifteen had been so armed. This meant that there were more than a hundred archers to defend the island; learning which I came to the conclusion that the best form of defence was attack, and made my plans accordingly.

Landing Bowata and his son to conduct the defence of their island, I took aboard the boat seven natives, who, the chief assured me, were among his most expert bowmen, and headed across the channel toward Apes’ Island, my plan being to cruise to and fro opposite the spot where the apes were mustering, and to pick off as many of the brutes as possible while passing.

At this point the channel was only about a mile wide; ten minutes, therefore, sufficed us to accomplish the passage and to round to at a distance of twenty yards from the beach, where some fifty or sixty of the gigantic brutes were now assembled, most of them squatting upon their haunches, as though awaiting a signal of some sort, while others were joining them at the rate of two or three per minute. As the boat approached, the monsters eyed her malignantly, while several rose to their feet as though preparing to repel an attack. This suited our purpose well, and as the boat, under Billy’s skilful handling, rounding to into the wind, with her sails a-shiver, glided slowly past the spot where the apes were congregated, we each deliberately selected our target and, drawing our bows to the full length of our arrows, let fly with deadly effect. Every arrow went home, many of them finding the heart, and with screams of mingled pain and rage eight of the apes crashed to the ground, a few of them writhing convulsively in their death-agony but most of them dead. There was time for a second discharge before the boat drifted too far away, and three more of the brutes went down, while five of their comrades, screaming and bellowing with pain and rage, wrenched the arrows from their wounds, some of them in their blind fury turning upon and savagely attacking their fellows. The manoeuvre was so successful that it was repeated with equally satisfactory results.

Thus far the unwounded apes appeared to take little or no notice of the havoc we were working among them; and I feel certain that none of them connected that havoc with the appearance of the boat upon the scene; but when the manoeuvre was repeated a third time, and still more of their number fell dead or wounded, it seemed at last to dawn upon their imperfect intelligence that the strange object with white sails, which glided to and fro upon the water opposite them, must be somehow associated with the casualties occurring among their companions, and with yells of concentrated fury and eyes ablaze with deadly malice about a dozen of them shambled down the beach into the water, and, striking out, started to swim in pursuit of the boat.