"Yes, sir, a good big round 'tater would just about fit me now, and I shouldn't fiddle about any nonsense as to trying it on."
"There'll be no potatoes for you, Ned, but we may find some wild bananas lower down."
"That's a nice comforting way of talking to a poor hungry chap who is going up, Mr Jack; but you keep a good look-out, and we must have a shot at the first thing we see, and then light a fire and cook it, and if that first thing we see happens to be a nigger, sir--well, I'm sorry for him, and I hope he won't be tough!"
Ned directed a comical look at his young master as he began to try the bow, holding it in his injured, nerveless grasp, and pulling at the string.
"Is it hard, Ned?"
"Pretty tidy, sir. Takes a good pull, but I can manage it, and--Hullo!
Look at that."
He threw the bow, arrows, and spear down, stretched out his left arm to the full extent; drew it in so as to raise the biceps, and then stretched it out again, and began to move it round like the sail of a windmill.
"What's the matter with you?" cried Jack. "Are you going mad?"
"Pretty nigh, sir. Look at that--and that--and that!"
The three "thats" were so many imaginary blows in the air, delivered sharply and with all the man's force.
"But I don't understand you, Ned. What do you mean?"
"Why, can't you see, sir? That arm's been as dead as a stick ever since I got that arrow, now it has come to life again, and is stronger than ever. I know what's done it!"
"Being obliged to try and use it," cried Jack quickly.
"That's got something to do with it perhaps, sir, but that isn't everything. It was that soaking last night, and then the stewing in that hot sand. It took all the rest of the trouble away. Now then, only let me get a chance at one of these chaps, and I'll try how he likes arrow. I'll 'arrow his feelings a bit."
"But are you sure your arm is quite strong again?" cried Jack joyfully.
For answer Ned swung his left round the speaker's waist, lifted him from the ground, and held him up with ease.
"What do you say to that, sir? But there, come along, I want to get something to eat. I feel horrid, and begin to understand how it is that some of the people out here eat one another."
"Don't keep on talking such absurd stuff, Ned," cried Jack, half angrily, half amused; for in the early stages of suffering from hunger there are symptoms of a weak hysterical disposition to laugh.
"But I'm so hungry, sir!"
"Well, push on, and we may get a chance at a big bird of some kind. But suppose we should shoot one--we might--these arrows may be poisoned."
"Wouldn't matter, sir. They say cooking kills the poison. Which way now?"
"Keep bearing to the right up the mountain, but always well within shelter. We must not be taken again."
"Good-bye to the wild bananas that grow below," muttered Ned; and he pressed on eagerly, but keeping a sharp look-out all the while, and whenever an opening had to be crossed, setting the example of going down on all fours.
"Won't do though to keep like this, sir," he said; "why, they'd shoot at us at once for wild beasts of some kind. But do look here, sir! Ain't it wonderful--ain't it grand? My arm feels as if it had been bottling up all its strength, and to be readier than ever now. Oh, if we could only see something to shoot at."
But saving small brightly-plumaged birds, they encountered nothing to tempt the venture of an arrow, and at the end of what must have been quite two hours, when the cave of the lava flow was left far behind, and several hundred feet lower, Jack dropped upon his knees beside a lovely little pool, into which trickled through the rocks and stones a thread-like stream of the clearest water.
"No, no, sir, don't drink--it's bad. Cold water when you're hot, and on an empty stomach."
"But I'm so thirsty, Ned, and it looks so tempting."
"I'm ever so much thirstier, sir. Look here, let's do what they do with horses. Just wash our mouths out, but don't let's swallow any."
As he spoke he went to the other side of the little rock pool, which was not above a foot deep and about four across, lying close up to the foot of one of the great rock walls which grew more frequent the higher they ascended. Then together they dipped a hand in the soft, cool, limpid fluid, and raised it to their lips.
"Poof!" ejaculated Ned, spluttering the water away. "Oh, what a shame!
There ought to be a notice up--Beware of the water. Why, it's like poison, sir. Ten times worse than that horrid stuff by the falls. Oh, come on. Only fancy for there to be water like that. Physic's nothing to it."
Jack's disappointment was a little softened by his amusement, and they resumed their tramp, rising higher and higher as they kept up a diagonal course along the mountain slope; but the difficulties in the way, and the caution requisite in passing through what they felt to be a dangerous enemy's land, made the progress slow, and after a time they seated themselves for a rest upon one of the many moss-grown masses of lava rock they passed, beneath an umbrageous tree, in which a flock of tiny finch-like birds were twittering, and once more looked around.
The prospect was not wide, for they were surrounded by trees, and it was only by keeping close to one or other of the many lava rivers, where the growth of the forest was scanty, that they were able to progress as they did.
"Nothing to eat, nothing to drink," groaned Ned. "I say, Mr Jack, this is getting serious. What's to be done?"
"Rest a bit, and then at the first opportunity, say as soon as we have passed over that knoll there, let's begin to descend toward the shore.
I hope we shall miss the blacks then."
"And come across some one looking for us, sir, and carrying a basket.
If it was only a bit of hard ship's biscuit now, I wouldn't care."
"Hark! What's that?"
"Cockatoo, sir," whispered Ned. "I know their screech. I'll go and try and get a shot at him."
"Better sit still and rest, and chance the flock coming near. If you follow them they'll hear you, and lead you farther and farther away."
"Yes, I know that, sir, but I'm so hungry, and I'm afraid to begin chewing leaves for fear of poison. Hullo! Don't move, sir. Hear that?
You're right, this is the best way and the easiest."
"What shall we do, Ned, shoot, or try to get at them with the spears?"
"Let's see 'em first, sir," said Ned wisely, "and wait our chance, and then do both."
The objects which had excited their attention by sundry familiar sounding grunts were not long in showing themselves in the shape of a little herd of pigs, three old ones and about a dozen half-grown; and as they came down a slope to their left, and began rooting about under the trees a couple of hundred yards away, Ned softly smacked his lips, looked at Jack, took out his brass matchbox, and said the expressive word "crackling."
The formation of the mountain side was mostly that of shallow stony gullies opening one into the other, but all with the general tendency up and down, and it was on the slope of one of these that the fugitives were resting, while the herd had entered it from its highest part.
Ned's fingers played tremblingly about the bow he held. Then he felt his arm, and a look of joy and pride came into his eyes.
"It's all right," he whispered. "I say, sir, wasn't it a grand idea to leave some pigs here to breed? You stop quiet and wait your chance."
"Why? What are you going to do?" whispered Jack.
"Creep round by the back of this tree, sir, and as they feed down I'll go up the side, and by and by you'll see me dodging softly along toward you over yonder beyond them. Then we shall have 'em between us, and if they take fright they must either go up or down, and pass one of us.
It's our chance, and we must not let it go. Look here, sir, you choose one of the little ones, and wait till you think you can hit him. Then hold up your hand and we'll fire together. Then run at 'em with your spear. We must get one or else starve."