Bab Bab 2 · The Savage Home

. The Savage Home

Nor did they have long to wait, for the next morning as Clayton was

emerging on deck for his accustomed walk before breakfast, a shot rang

out, and then another, and another.

The sight which met his eyes confirmed his worst fears. Facing the

little knot of officers was the entire motley crew of the _Fuwalda_,

and at their head stood Black Michael.

At the first volley from the officers the men ran for shelter, and from

points of vantage behind masts, wheel-house and cabin they returned the

fire of the five men who represented the hated authority of the ship.

Two of their number had gone down before the captain’s revolver. They

lay where they had fallen between the combatants. But then the first

mate lunged forward upon his face, and at a cry of command from Black

Michael the mutineers charged the remaining four. The crew had been

able to muster but six firearms, so most of them were armed with boat

hooks, axes, hatchets and crowbars.

The captain had emptied his revolver and was reloading as the charge

was made. The second mate’s gun had jammed, and so there were but two

weapons opposed to the mutineers as they bore down upon the officers,

who now started to give back before the infuriated rush of their men.

Both sides were cursing and swearing in a frightful manner, which,

together with the reports of the firearms and the screams and groans of

the wounded, turned the deck of the _Fuwalda_ to the likeness of a

madhouse.

Before the officers had taken a dozen backward steps the men were upon

them. An ax in the hands of a burly Negro cleft the captain from

forehead to chin, and an instant later the others were down: dead or

wounded from dozens of blows and bullet wounds.

Short and grisly had been the work of the mutineers of the _Fuwalda_,

and through it all John Clayton had stood leaning carelessly beside the

companionway puffing meditatively upon his pipe as though he had been

but watching an indifferent cricket match.

As the last officer went down he thought it was time that he returned

to his wife lest some members of the crew find her alone below.

Though outwardly calm and indifferent, Clayton was inwardly

apprehensive and wrought up, for he feared for his wife’s safety at the

hands of these ignorant, half-brutes into whose hands fate had so

remorselessly thrown them.

As he turned to descend the ladder he was surprised to see his wife

standing on the steps almost at his side.

“How long have you been here, Alice?”

“Since the beginning,” she replied. “How awful, John. Oh, how awful!

What can we hope for at the hands of such as those?”

“Breakfast, I hope,” he answered, smiling bravely in an attempt to

allay her fears.

“At least,” he added, “I’m going to ask them. Come with me, Alice. We

must not let them think we expect any but courteous treatment.”

The men had by this time surrounded the dead and wounded officers, and

without either partiality or compassion proceeded to throw both living

and dead over the sides of the vessel. With equal heartlessness they

disposed of their own dead and dying.

Presently one of the crew spied the approaching Claytons, and with a

cry of: “Here’s two more for the fishes,” rushed toward them with

uplifted ax.

But Black Michael was even quicker, so that the fellow went down with a

bullet in his back before he had taken a half dozen steps.

With a loud roar, Black Michael attracted the attention of the others,

and, pointing to Lord and Lady Greystoke, cried:

“These here are my friends, and they are to be left alone. D’ye

understand?

“I’m captain of this ship now, an’ what I says goes,” he added, turning

to Clayton. “Just keep to yourselves, and nobody’ll harm ye,” and he

looked threateningly on his fellows.

The Claytons heeded Black Michael’s instructions so well that they saw

but little of the crew and knew nothing of the plans the men were

making.

Occasionally they heard faint echoes of brawls and quarreling among the

mutineers, and on two occasions the vicious bark of firearms rang out

on the still air. But Black Michael was a fit leader for this band of

cutthroats, and, withal held them in fair subjection to his rule.

On the fifth day following the murder of the ship’s officers, land was

sighted by the lookout. Whether island or mainland, Black Michael did

not know, but he announced to Clayton that if investigation showed that

the place was habitable he and Lady Greystoke were to be put ashore

with their belongings.

“You’ll be all right there for a few months,” he explained, “and by

that time we’ll have been able to make an inhabited coast somewhere and

scatter a bit. Then I’ll see that yer gover’ment’s notified where you

be an’ they’ll soon send a man-o’war to fetch ye off.

“It would be a hard matter to land you in civilization without a lot o’

questions being asked, an’ none o’ us here has any very convincin’

answers up our sleeves.”

Clayton remonstrated against the inhumanity of landing them upon an

unknown shore to be left to the mercies of savage beasts, and,

possibly, still more savage men.

But his words were of no avail, and only tended to anger Black Michael,

so he was forced to desist and make the best he could of a bad

situation.

About three o’clock in the afternoon they came about off a beautiful

wooded shore opposite the mouth of what appeared to be a land-locked

harbor.

Black Michael sent a small boat filled with men to sound the entrance

in an effort to determine if the _Fuwalda_ could be safely worked

through the entrance.

In about an hour they returned and reported deep water through the

passage as well as far into the little basin.

Before dark the barkentine lay peacefully at anchor upon the bosom of

the still, mirror-like surface of the harbor.

The surrounding shores were beautiful with semitropical verdure, while

in the distance the country rose from the ocean in hill and tableland,

almost uniformly clothed by primeval forest.

No signs of habitation were visible, but that the land might easily

support human life was evidenced by the abundant bird and animal life

of which the watchers on the _Fuwalda’s_ deck caught occasional

glimpses, as well as by the shimmer of a little river which emptied

into the harbor, insuring fresh water in plenitude.

As darkness settled upon the earth, Clayton and Lady Alice still stood

by the ship’s rail in silent contemplation of their future abode. From

the dark shadows of the mighty forest came the wild calls of savage

beasts—the deep roar of the lion, and, occasionally, the shrill scream

of a panther.

The woman shrank closer to the man in terror-stricken anticipation of

the horrors lying in wait for them in the awful blackness of the nights

to come, when they should be alone upon that wild and lonely shore.

Later in the evening Black Michael joined them long enough to instruct

them to make their preparations for landing on the morrow. They tried

to persuade him to take them to some more hospitable coast near enough

to civilization so that they might hope to fall into friendly hands.

But no pleas, or threats, or promises of reward could move him.

“I am the only man aboard who would not rather see ye both safely dead,

and, while I know that’s the sensible way to make sure of our own

necks, yet Black Michael’s not the man to forget a favor. Ye saved my

life once, and in return I’m goin’ to spare yours, but that’s all I can

do.

“The men won’t stand for any more, and if we don’t get ye landed pretty

quick they may even change their minds about giving ye that much show.

I’ll put all yer stuff ashore with ye as well as cookin’ utensils an’

some old sails for tents, an’ enough grub to last ye until ye can find

fruit and game.

“With yer guns for protection, ye ought to be able to live here easy

enough until help comes. When I get safely hid away I’ll see to it that

the British gover’ment learns about where ye be; for the life of me I

couldn’t tell ’em exactly where, for I don’t know myself. But they’ll

find ye all right.”

After he had left them they went silently below, each wrapped in gloomy

forebodings.

Clayton did not believe that Black Michael had the slightest intention

of notifying the British government of their whereabouts, nor was he

any too sure but that some treachery was contemplated for the following

day when they should be on shore with the sailors who would have to

accompany them with their belongings.

Once out of Black Michael’s sight any of the men might strike them

down, and still leave Black Michael’s conscience clear.

And even should they escape that fate was it not but to be faced with

far graver dangers? Alone, he might hope to survive for years; for he

was a strong, athletic man.

But what of Alice, and that other little life so soon to be launched

amidst the hardships and grave dangers of a primeval world?

The man shuddered as he meditated upon the awful gravity, the fearful

helplessness, of their situation. But it was a merciful Providence

which prevented him from foreseeing the hideous reality which awaited

them in the grim depths of that gloomy wood.

Early next morning their numerous chests and boxes were hoisted on deck

and lowered to waiting small boats for transportation to shore.

There was a great quantity and variety of stuff, as the Claytons had

expected a possible five to eight years’ residence in their new home.

Thus, in addition to the many necessities they had brought, there were

also many luxuries.

Black Michael was determined that nothing belonging to the Claytons

should be left on board. Whether out of compassion for them, or in

furtherance of his own self-interests, it would be difficult to say.

There was no question but that the presence of property of a missing

British official upon a suspicious vessel would have been a difficult

thing to explain in any civilized port in the world.

So zealous was he in his efforts to carry out his intentions that he

insisted upon the return of Clayton’s revolvers to him by the sailors

in whose possession they were.

Into the small boats were also loaded salt meats and biscuit, with a

small supply of potatoes and beans, matches, and cooking vessels, a

chest of tools, and the old sails which Black Michael had promised

them.

As though himself fearing the very thing which Clayton had suspected,

Black Michael accompanied them to shore, and was the last to leave them

when the small boats, having filled the ship’s casks with fresh water,

were pushed out toward the waiting _Fuwalda_.

As the boats moved slowly over the smooth waters of the bay, Clayton

and his wife stood silently watching their departure—in the breasts of

both a feeling of impending disaster and utter hopelessness.

And behind them, over the edge of a low ridge, other eyes watched—close

set, wicked eyes, gleaming beneath shaggy brows.

As the _Fuwalda_ passed through the narrow entrance to the harbor and

out of sight behind a projecting point, Lady Alice threw her arms about

Clayton’s neck and burst into uncontrolled sobs.

Bravely had she faced the dangers of the mutiny; with heroic fortitude

she had looked into the terrible future; but now that the horror of

absolute solitude was upon them, her overwrought nerves gave way, and

the reaction came.

He did not attempt to check her tears. It were better that nature have

her way in relieving these long-pent emotions, and it was many minutes

before the girl—little more than a child she was—could again gain

mastery of herself.

“Oh, John,” she cried at last, “the horror of it. What are we to do?

What are we to do?”

“There is but one thing to do, Alice,” and he spoke as quietly as

though they were sitting in their snug living room at home, “and that

is work. Work must be our salvation. We must not give ourselves time to

think, for in that direction lies madness.

“We must work and wait. I am sure that relief will come, and come

quickly, when once it is apparent that the _Fuwalda_ has been lost,

even though Black Michael does not keep his word to us.”

“But John, if it were only you and I,” she sobbed, “we could endure it

I know; but—”

“Yes, dear,” he answered, gently, “I have been thinking of that, also;

but we must face it, as we must face whatever comes, bravely and with

the utmost confidence in our ability to cope with circumstances

whatever they may be.

“Hundreds of thousands of years ago our ancestors of the dim and

distant past faced the same problems which we must face, possibly in

these same primeval forests. That we are here today evidences their

victory.

“What they did may we not do? And even better, for are we not armed

with ages of superior knowledge, and have we not the means of

protection, defense, and sustenance which science has given us, but of

which they were totally ignorant? What they accomplished, Alice, with

instruments and weapons of stone and bone, surely that may we

accomplish also.”

“Ah, John, I wish that I might be a man with a man’s philosophy, but I

am but a woman, seeing with my heart rather than my head, and all that

I can see is too horrible, too unthinkable to put into words.

“I only hope you are right, John. I will do my best to be a brave

primeval woman, a fit mate for the primeval man.”

Clayton’s first thought was to arrange a sleeping shelter for the

night; something which might serve to protect them from prowling beasts

of prey.

He opened the box containing his rifles and ammunition, that they might

both be armed against possible attack while at work, and then together

they sought a location for their first night’s sleeping place.

A hundred yards from the beach was a little level spot, fairly free of

trees; here they decided eventually to build a permanent house, but for

the time being they both thought it best to construct a little platform

in the trees out of reach of the larger of the savage beasts in whose

realm they were.

To this end Clayton selected four trees which formed a rectangle about

eight feet square, and cutting long branches from other trees he

constructed a framework around them, about ten feet from the ground,

fastening the ends of the branches securely to the trees by means of

rope, a quantity of which Black Michael had furnished him from the hold

of the _Fuwalda_.

Across this framework Clayton placed other smaller branches quite close

together. This platform he paved with the huge fronds of elephant’s ear

which grew in profusion about them, and over the fronds he laid a great

sail folded into several thicknesses.

Seven feet higher he constructed a similar, though lighter platform to

serve as roof, and from the sides of this he suspended the balance of

his sailcloth for walls.

When completed he had a rather snug little nest, to which he carried

their blankets and some of the lighter luggage.

It was now late in the afternoon, and the balance of the daylight hours

were devoted to the building of a rude ladder by means of which Lady

Alice could mount to her new home.

All during the day the forest about them had been filled with excited

birds of brilliant plumage, and dancing, chattering monkeys, who

watched these new arrivals and their wonderful nest building operations

with every mark of keenest interest and fascination.

Notwithstanding that both Clayton and his wife kept a sharp lookout

they saw nothing of larger animals, though on two occasions they had

seen their little simian neighbors come screaming and chattering from

the near-by ridge, casting frightened glances back over their little

shoulders, and evincing as plainly as though by speech that they were

fleeing some terrible thing which lay concealed there.

Just before dusk Clayton finished his ladder, and, filling a great

basin with water from the near-by stream, the two mounted to the

comparative safety of their aerial chamber.

As it was quite warm, Clayton had left the side curtains thrown back

over the roof, and as they sat, like Turks, upon their blankets, Lady

Alice, straining her eyes into the darkening shadows of the wood,

suddenly reached out and grasped Clayton’s arms.

“John,” she whispered, “look! What is it, a man?”

As Clayton turned his eyes in the direction she indicated, he saw

silhouetted dimly against the shadows beyond, a great figure standing

upright upon the ridge.

For a moment it stood as though listening and then turned slowly, and

melted into the shadows of the jungle.

“What is it, John?”

“I do not know, Alice,” he answered gravely, “it is too dark to see so

far, and it may have been but a shadow cast by the rising moon.”

“No, John, if it was not a man it was some huge and grotesque mockery

of man. Oh, I am afraid.”

He gathered her in his arms, whispering words of courage and love into

her ears.

Soon after, he lowered the curtain walls, tying them securely to the

trees so that, except for a little opening toward the beach, they were

entirely enclosed.

As it was now pitch dark within their tiny aerie they lay down upon

their blankets to try to gain, through sleep, a brief respite of

forgetfulness.

Clayton lay facing the opening at the front, a rifle and a brace of

revolvers at his hand.

Scarcely had they closed their eyes than the terrifying cry of a

panther rang out from the jungle behind them. Closer and closer it came

until they could hear the great beast directly beneath them. For an

hour or more they heard it sniffing and clawing at the trees which

supported their platform, but at last it roamed away across the beach,

where Clayton could see it clearly in the brilliant moonlight—a great,

handsome beast, the largest he had ever seen.

During the long hours of darkness they caught but fitful snatches of

sleep, for the night noises of a great jungle teeming with myriad

animal life kept their overwrought nerves on edge, so that a hundred

times they were startled to wakefulness by piercing screams, or the

stealthy moving of great bodies beneath them.