"Then what does it mean? We left it there."
"It means that the blacks have been and fetched it while we were away,"
said the mate, drawing a deep breath. "Just as Captain Bradleigh prophesied."
"What's that?" said the captain sharply.
"I don't think there is any question about it. She might have drifted a little way, but that is doubtful, for one end was well aground. We must have had visitors while we were away. I thought they would not give up that canoe without a struggle."
"Yes," said the captain, "they must have been. That canoe was too valuable to be lost. I said so."
"Then they may come again at any moment?" said Sir John.
"Yes, sir," replied the captain; "and they must find us well prepared."
"Mr Jack, sir," whispered Ned at the first chance, "we're going to have some fighting after all."
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.
"A WAS AN ARCHER, WHO SHOT--"
No more was seen of the blacks, while a fortnight passed; and encouraged by the utter solitude of the place, the well-armed parties which left the yacht made longer and longer excursions, coming home with an abundance of specimens to preserve. The sailors took to the task with the greatest of gusto, and evidently thoroughly enjoyed the hunt for rare birds and butterflies, of which there proved to be an abundance.
One day Jack would be helping his father collect the wonderfully painted insects which hovered or darted about in the sunny glades or in the moist shady openings over the streams, where they hung over the lovely blossoms of the orchids. At another time the doctor would claim his attention, and shouldering one gun, while Edward carried another and the cartridges, long tramps were taken over the mountain slopes and at the edge of the forest, to penetrate which, save in rare places, was impossible. Their sport was plentiful enough, for the birds were fresh to the gun, and when startled their flight was short, and they alighted again within reach. They were all new to the boy, who seemed never weary of examining the lovely plumage of the prizes, which one or other of the sailors carried afterwards, slung by their beaks from a stick, so that the feathers should not be damaged. Now it was a green paroquet, with long slender tail and head of the most delicate peach-colour or of a brilliant orange yellow. At another time, after a careful stalk, one or other of the pittas, the exquisitely-coloured ground thrushes, in their uniforms of pale fawn and blue, turquoise, sapphire, and amethyst.
And perhaps the next shot would be at one of the soft feathery trogons, cuckoo-like birds in their habits, but instead of being pale slate-coloured, barred and flecked like a sparrowhawk, Jack's specimens would display a breast of the purest carmine, and a back glistening with metallic green. Something like cuckoos, Ned declared them to be, but not in aspect.
One morning, after several times hearing their calls in a clump of gigantic trees up one of the volcanic ravines, the doctor called the lad to be his companion to try and stalk what he believed to be birds of paradise; but they had evidently chosen the wrong time, for to their disappointment not a sound was heard, and they would have gone back to the yacht empty-handed if it had not been for Ned's sharp eyes.
"There they are!" he whispered, pointing across the ravine to where another little forest of tall trees feathered the steep sides of the slope.
"What are?" said Jack excitedly.
"The birds you are looking for, sir. Saw about a dozen, big as pheasants, fly across and settle there."
He pointed with the gun he carried to one tree which towered above the rest.
"They went down under there, sir. I could lead you straight to the place."
Jack took out his small glass, and after gazing through it attentively he suddenly said--
"I saw a big bird fly down. Yes, and another."
"They can't be those we want," said the doctor, "but they may be good specimens of something. What do you say, Jack, will you go down and across?"
"Oh yes," he replied.
"It's very steep, and will mean lowering ourselves cautiously."
"I don't mind," said the lad. "If it's very bad they will help me."
"Oh yes, sir, we'll help," said Lenny, turning to his companions; "won't us, lads?"
There was a chorus of "Ay, ays," and the steep descent from the great grove commenced, it being necessary to get to the bottom of what became low down a precipitous gully, along which one of the springs which had its source high up in the mountain dashed along. This had to be crossed, and then there was a similar climb on the other side.
The start was made, and proved difficult enough, for where the trees were not close and their roots interlaced, there were openings where masses of volcanic rock were tumbled-together in inextricable confusion, and the way over them was made more difficult by the bushy, shrubby growth and creepers which bound them together.
But the sailors were activity itself, and they slashed and trampled down and hauled and lowered till the whole party found themselves upon a broad stony shelf at the very edge of a sharply-cut rift, whose sides showed that it must have been split from the opposite side by some convulsion of Nature, so exactly was the shape repeated.
At the bottom of this crack--for it could be called little else--the water of the stream rushed foaming along some thirty feet beneath, the whole place looking black and forbidding enough to make any one hesitate before attempting to cross, though the distance to the other ledge was not above five feet, a trifling jump under ordinary circumstances. But here, with the deep black rift and the foaming water beneath, it looked startling to a lad accustomed to a quiet home life. He, however, put a bold face on the matter and stood looking on.
Jack was, however, conscious of the fact that the doctor was watching him in a side-long way, as if expecting to hear him make some objections. As, however, the boy was silent, the doctor spoke.
"Rather an ugly jump, Jack," he said. "Think you can manage it?"
"Oh, I think so. I shall try."
"Try? It must not be a try. It has to be done."
"Yes, I can do it," said the lad confidently.
"Oh yes, you can do that, Mr Jack," said Ned in a whisper, as the doctor turned off to speak to Lenny; "think it's only a ditch a foot deep."
The boy could not think that with the water roaring beneath him far below, and he could not help glancing back up the steep slope they had descended. This looked so forbidding and meant so much toilsome work, that he felt as if he would rather do the leap, though all the same there was the climb on the other side. Still there was an attraction there in the shape of the strange birds, which he was as eager to secure as the doctor.
"Who'll go first?" said the doctor. "Here, I will."
He handed his gun and satchel to Ned, walked a little way to select the broadest and clearest path, which happened to be a couple of feet higher than the opposite side, stepped back as far as he could, took a short run, and landed easily a couple of feet clear.
"There: nothing," he cried, "but I shouldn't like to try it back. Throw my satchel over, Ned."
This was done and deftly caught. Then the gun was carefully pitched across, the others followed, and the specimens shot that morning.
Then one by one the sailors leaped over, and Jack and Ned remained.
"Will you go next, Ned?"
"Me, sir, and leave you behind? 'Tisn't likely. Don't think about it, sir. It's easy enough. Off you go. The thinking's worse than the doing."
To an ordinary school-boy it would have been nothing. His legs, hardened by exercise, would have sent him across like a deer, but Jack's muscles only a short time before were flaccid and weak in the extreme.
Still the voyage had done something; the strong will growing up within him did more, and without a moment's hesitation, feeling as if his reputation was at stake, he went sharply to the starting-point, took the short run, and leaped, but too hurriedly. If he had gone quietly to work it would have been different; as it was, he cleared the gulf and landed on the other side, but without throwing himself forward sufficiently to recover himself, and Ned uttered a cry of horror as he saw the lad apparently about to totter backward into the depths below.
Lenny saved him by a curiously awkward-looking act. He had been on the look-out on one side, the doctor on the other, to give the lad a hand as he landed, but instead of a hand he gave him an arm, delivering a sharp blow on the back, and driving him into safety just as he was hopelessly losing his balance, and the men gave a cheer.
"Thank you, Lenny," gasped the boy breathlessly, as he saved himself from falling forward by catching at the nearest sailor; "but don't hit quite so hard next time; it hurts."
A roar of laughter followed this, and the doctor took off his pith helmet to wipe his forehead.
"That's a nice sort of an example to set a fellow," muttered Ned as he stood on the other side, rather unnerved by what he had seen. "Makes a poor man feel as if he would rather be at home cleaning the plate."