Nameless Island

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11. The Frustrated Sacrifice



"A rum-looking crowd," observed Terence. "They look as if they could do a lot of damage, though."

"Yes," replied Mr. McKay, "I am sure of it. These fellows often fight for fighting's sake, and a pretty spectacle they make of it at times. I've seen them at it before."

"What, these natives?"

"No, the inhabitants of New Guinea. They are strongly associated, however, not only in manners and customs, but in language. I must polish up my Polynesian lingo, though after acquiring a smattering of Spanish I'm afraid I've become very rusty. Come, now, hurry up and snug down, and we'll go ashore."

"Armed, of course?"

"Yes, certainly. Take your revolvers only. I don't think we need fear anything at present. If there's to be trouble it will be after the natives have made the best use of us."

Accordingly the little crew worked with a will; then, directly the canvas was stowed and a second anchor laid out, the whole party went ashore.

They were received with great show of goodwill, the natives crowding round them with shouts of welcome, while the ceremony of rubbing noses was duly performed.

Several of the women advanced bearing long garlands, and, to the undisguised bashfulness of the three lads, placed the flowing chains round the necks of their visitors. Quexo, however, was denied that honour. He was a coloured man, and therefore, in the eyes of the natives, of no consequence.

"You made a quick passage, boss, after all," observed Blight.

"Aye, we picked up with a breeze," replied Mr. McKay, though he did not offer to explain when the breeze was encountered.

"They've prepared a feast for you," continued the ex-pearler. "So let's put our best foot foremost."

At a short distance from the shore was a large clearing, temporary huts made of branches and leaves of palm trees being erected in a vast double circle. Here a number of natives were busy baking pigs and fowls, while there was an abundance of yams and cocoanuts.

"They are very improvident with their supplies," remarked Andy. "They evidently seem as if they are certain of returning to the land of plenty."

"Yes," replied his father, who had taken an early opportunity of examining the roasted pigs to make sure they were pigs. "We may as well set-to and enjoy their hospitality; now, keep close together and see that your pistols are easy to draw."

The chiefs, each distinguishable by his huge mop of greased and frizzed hair, had squatted in a semicircle, and no sooner had the guests seated themselves than there was a terrific scramble on the part of the native chiefs to help themselves.

"We must forget for the moment that we are civilised and follow their example," remarked Mr. McKay, seizing a bit of pork in his fingers.

His companions did likewise, and notwithstanding the absence of knives and forks they managed to eat and enjoy their share of the feast.

This done, there was a war-dance performed by the young men of the tribe, the warriors brandishing their clubs with such energy that it seemed wonderful that no one was hurt.

The natives did not appear to use their heavy clubs for the purpose of knocking their imaginary adversaries over the head; instead, they utilised the upward swing of their arms, lunging with the weapon on its upward stroke.

Andy particularly noticed this, and remarked it to his father.

"Yes," was the reply. "It's a favourite 'knock-out' blow with these fellows. I've seen them at it in actual combat. The idea is to get underneath their antagonist's guard, and strike him on the chin with the upward sweep of the club, and knock him senseless. Afterwards the winning side secure those who are only stunned and----"

"And what?"

"Eat them!"

At length the display came to an end, and the guests prepared to return on board. Mr. McKay had attempted to converse with some of the chiefs, but the result was a failure. He therefore told Blight to inform the chief that an early start was to be made on the morrow.

The news was received with redoubled shouts of delight, and the entire population escorted the white men to the beach. Nor did they stop there, for men, women, and children rushed headlong into the sea, and formed a huge bodyguard of swimmers till the yawl was reached.

All round the boat the water was black with the heads and arms of the swimmers, for these natives of the Pacific Islands take to the water often before they can walk.

Splashing and shouting loud enough to scare every shark within a mile, they swam round and round the yawl, none offering to climb aboard, till at a shout from one of the chiefs they turned and swam rapidly to the shore.

"We must set watches to-night, I suppose?" asked Andy.

"Certainly! Although these people are supposed to be our friends, we must imagine ourselves in hostile waters. I remember once that a small schooner put into Niihau. The natives came off to barter, and appeared to be extremely friendly. During the night about a couple of hundred swam off to the schooner and took her crew entirely by surprise. We found the charred remains of her timbers about a month afterwards, but not a trace of her unfortunate crew. They had been made into 'big pig.'"

"What's that?" asked Ellerton.

"Otherwise killed, roasted, and eaten." "Then what happened?"

"The usual. Gunboat, landing party, etc. The village was shelled and burnt, and the island afterwards annexed to the Empire. So, you see, we must exercise due caution, although I don't want to upset your nerves."

It must have been shortly after midnight when the crew was awakened by a warning shout from Terence. Turning out of their comfortable bunks, the others rushed from the cabin, armed in anticipation of a sudden and treacherous attack.

A low rumbling greeted their ears, the sound apparently coming from the shore. For more than a minute the mysterious sound continued, then it suddenly ceased.

"What is it?" asked Donald.

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you," replied his father. "It's rather like the sound of a submarine explosion; probably a volcanic eruption."

Again the noise was repeated, yet no agitation of the placid water took place. The natives did not appear to be disturbed, for no commotion due to human agency could be heard from the island. This time the rumbling continued for quite five minutes, dying away in a succession of long-drawn tremors. Then all was quiet.

"I can't make it out," remarked Mr. McKay. "Whatever it is it seems to be accepted by the natives without a protest. To-morrow I'll inquire."

The party remained on deck for nearly an hour, but as the mysterious noise was not repeated, they at length retired to the cabin, leaving Terence to continue the remainder of his watch.

Just after sunrise Ellerton called Mr. McKay's attention to something on the beach. Seizing his glasses, the elder man brought them to bear upon the spot, and the next moment he exclaimed:

"Come on, lads, get your arms and row ashore as hard as you can."

Without waiting for an explanation, the three lads jumped into the boat, Mr. McKay taking his place in the stern sheets.

"Don't look ahead; keep your eyes on the boat and pull," said Mr. McKay quietly, yet there was a grim, determined expression on his face that betokened trouble ahead.

The moment the little craft touched the beach the lads jumped out, and led by Mr. McKay, they made their way at top speed along the sandy shore.

Fifty yards from where they landed was the chief's canoe, which had been hauled up on shore since the previous night. At regular intervals betwixt its lofty prow and the water were six dark objects lying on the sand.

The lads gave a gasp of horror, for lashed firmly to bamboo poles were six natives. Their fellows were preparing to launch the canoe over their bodies.

"Stop that!" shouted Mr. McKay sternly, holding up his hand to arrest the progress of the heavy craft, which was quivering under the grasp of fifty stalwart blacks.

The natives hesitated, glaring at the interrupters of their ceremony, while some of the chiefs made signs for the interfering strangers to stand aside.

"Where's Blight?" shouted Mr. McKay, as he opened the cut-off of the magazine of his rifle.

"Here I am, boss," replied that individual, coolly sauntering forward.

"Tell them to knock off this horrible business."

"Let 'em carry on, boss," was the reply, almost apologetic. "You see, they ain't got no prisoners, and the chief's canoe must be launched in this 'ere way, else it's bad luck. So they picked on some of their least wanted pals. Bless me, you'll soon get used to it. I did years ago."

"You can tell them from me that the moment that canoe moves we'll open fire. You might also explain that if our wishes are not carried out, we'll go back to our own island, and those rascals can stay here to starve. Now be quick, and let them know we mean business. Cover these tow-headed rogues," he continued to his companions. "If I give the word, let fly continuous volleys till the rest of the rascals bolt."

Evidently the chiefs knew the power of the white men's rifles, for they stepped back a few paces. Some of their followers grasped their clubs and spears, and courageously awaited their leaders' orders.

Jimmy Blight spoke rapidly. At first his words seemed to enrage the chiefs, but finally they expostulated.

"What do they say?"

"They are willing to let the brutes free if you promise that your power'll keep off the--the--you know what I mean, boss, the----"

"Evil eye?"' suggested Mr. McKay.

"Aye, that's it."

"You can tell them that there's nothing to fear on that score. Let them know that six men alive are worth something, and that six squashed to a pulp will do them no earthly good."

Once again Blight turned to the half-pacified chiefs, a rapid exchange of words followed, and in the end the latter signed to their people to free the captives from their terrible position.

"That's over, thank God!" ejaculated Mr. McKay with intense fervour. "Tell the chiefs I'm going to make them a present," and putting his rifle to his shoulder he fired six shots in the air in rapid succession.

Astonishment held the natives spell-bound; they had never before seen a magazine rifle discharged. The sharp "crack" of the weapon, its smokelessness, and the peculiar screech of the nickel bullets filled them with awe, and with great hesitation they accepted the six empty cartridge-cases as an exchange for the release of the intended victims.

"They've given you a tally, boss," observed Blight. "They call you 'The Wonder that Breathes Fire.'"

"I hope they will bear it in mind then," replied Mr. McKay. "Now let them proceed with the launching operations. When all is ready we will set sail. By the by, what was that noise we heard last night?" he inquired, turning to the ex-pearler.

"Noise! What noise, boss?"

"A kind of prolonged roar of distant thunder. Twice it occurred."

"Oh! I know what you mean. We don't take no notice of it in these parts. It's the 'Barking Sands.' See yon hills?"--pointing to a ridge of sand dunes about sixty feet in height. "The stuff's slippery like, and often it rolls down, and makes a row. There's a sight of other islands about here like it."

Half-an-hour later a flotilla of nine canoes, crowded with armed natives, paddled slowly towards the entrance of the lagoon. As they passed the white men's craft, their paddles rose in the air to the accompaniment of a sonorous salute.

Then, as the dripping anchor rose clear of the water, the breeze filled the sails of the yawl, and she, too, started to play her part in the hazardous enterprise.

Another five hours would decide whether Ahii would fall into the hands of its former possessors, and, what was still more important, the fate of the little band from McKay's Island.