Chapter VII: Part 7

It was only by overhauling mercantile vessels that any news of the country at all could be obtained. But some of these had somewhat recent newspapers, and what a grand gift to the _Breezy_ was a bundle of them!

They were read and re-read by the officers. Their pages were kept as clean as the leaves of a Bible. When the ward-room officers had them about all by heart, the warrant officers had them, and finally, the best of the crew, who read them to their respective messmates.

The adventures of the men of the _Breezy_ were mostly those of all men who go down to the sea in ships. But, dangers and difficulties more numerous. They saw, during those busy nine months, every conceivable phase of sea life. They had to battle with winds and currents, encountered terrible storms, the life of the ship and the lives of the crew oftentimes hanging literally on the thread of a screw, or on a bolt.

It was the shoal water and the reefs, however, that formed the principal danger, and these they were nearly almost among.

The savages they seldom feared, but the savages feared them, never having seen such a strange naval monstrosity as the _Breezy_ in their lives before. Some of the islanders, both men and women, were meek and mild, as well as fearless, and though armed to the teeth, the men at least, with bows and poisoned arrows, and clubs, axes and spears, it was safe enough to mingle with them.

They would part with anything for calico, tobacco, or tinned provisions. They surrounded the _Breezy_ in canoes laden to the gunwale with all manner of delicious fruit and vegetables, to say nothing of edible birds, lizards, etc., some even brought flowers.

On the other hand, they expressed themselves ready and willing to barter their wives or daughters away, or even fine fat little baby boys, for anything.

I never have found why savage islanders sometimes press sailors to purchase a fat little baby boy. I suppose they fancy our fellows make meat of such little chaps, because I've heard of one being offered in barter along with a bunch of forest fowls, or edible lizards.

Some rather wild adventures our _Breezy_ men had among the wilder and more treacherous of these islanders, many of them loaded with Brummagem rifles, which, though they could carry farther than arrows, were seldom well aimed.

But boats going in search of young cocoa-nuts, yams, and fruit, and "yum-yums" generally, were more than once led into an ambuscade. The _Breezy_ men had learned by experience to be suspicious of beaches on which only children played or the belles disported their charms.

They were black sirens, and their braves were hidden in the bush not far off, only they didn't get over Jack. Captain Breezy was ever on the alert to avert anything that was likely to lead to bloodshed, and even if fired upon by tribes who in all probability had good reason to hate and fear white men, he did not retaliate, unless sailors were wounded. But _then_, he taught the savages to respect man-o'-war's men in the future.

They dread our firearms, but it is better to go on shore apparently unarmed. Some savages are untameable, and the sight of a rifle, or even a fowling piece, causes them to think they are to be attacked, and their wives and little ones carried off. Yet it is best always to carry a tiny revolver in your hip-pocket, presuming that you know how to hit a haystack. The _Breezy's_ men were mostly all crack shots.

It is not so well known as it should be, that to some portions of the territory that fringes the sea come, at times, wandering tribes from the very far interior.

In Kanaka days, when among the Sandwich Islands kidnapping and massacre too was common enough, the recruiters being most to blame, ships of this sort often visited the Papuan coasts, and found great trouble from these wandering tribes. The more peaceful 'longshore natives had nothing to do with it. And yet, if a white man were killed, boats' crews would land, and the real culprits having fled back into their fastnesses, take terrible revenge.

Captain Breezy was a very patient man, but of course patience has a limit. That limit was reached one day. An old chief begged to come on board, to see the ship. He talked pidgin English, and had seen the world. With him was a very handsome young lady, though, like the heroine in "Tam o' Shanter," she wore but scanty clothing, consisting for the most part of bangles, anklets, and beads.

He introduced her as his last new wife, and was high in her praises.

He received some presents, and so did the lady, and then he wandered forward among the crew, and had a little gentle talkee-talkee, and the men laughed a good deal, especially a reckless fellow, called Tom Haslar. Tom was about the only bad hat in the ship.

He drank too, when he could find liquor, and he would and did manage to buy their allowance from those men who did not care much for it.

Tom felt in form, as he called it, that forenoon, and full of fun.

He chaffed the chief a bit, and even dug him in the fat stomach, but this savage seemed splendidly good-natured.

"Ah!" he returned, "you are one goodee boy. You been dlinkee--dlinkee. You too muchee laugh now. Bymebye you muchee thlisty and sad. Savez?"

"You've been there yourself," said Tom, "my gay and reverend seignor."

"You come alonga me, Jack."

"Tom, please, Tom Haslar, at your royal highness's service!"

"Den Tom, you come along ashore? I get you plentee dlinkee. Plenty dam goodee gin."

The boatswain's mate intimated now to the chief that his absence would be a deal better than his company, and after a little further palaver, he got into his dug-out and landed.

It was a cocoa-nut wooded beach, with a rather better class of plantain-covered cottages, well back in the shade, and the natives were supposed to be harmless.

It was very dark that night, and Tom was in the middle watch. Next morning he was missing. He had evidently swam on shore, to complete his orgie, enticed by the affable chief's promise.

That same chief was off in his dug-out early next morning.

"I hab Tom Haseelar," he cried, "I keep 'im fah away in de bush. Keepee all same one hostage. What you pay me foh Tom?"

"Nothing, you scoundrel, and if he isn't returned in half an hour I will fire your village." Thus spoke Guilford, whose watch it was.

There was plenty of bobbery and noise in the village now, and armed savages were seen rushing about, waving their spears aloft.

It was a beautiful, but a wild scene. How white the sands, how green the forests that climbed up the romantic glen and to the top of the highest hills. There was the bright blue of a calm sea, a cloudless azure sky, and every tree stem had a shadow black as night.

Another hour was spent, waiting in vain for Tom. Then the order was given by the Captain:--

"Man and arm boats."

"May I go, sir?" said Kep.

"Most certainly."

And away the boats sped with all the way on them that lusty arms could lend.

There was now silence in the village, a stillness indeed, that was ominous. But fearing an ambush, Guilford advanced his men with great caution.

Every cottage was empty. The savages had fled to the forest, nor in its dark recesses could any trail be found visible to white men's eyes.

So the men, in some sort of skirmishing order, but almost within touch of each other, went on and on up the wooded defile, expecting to be attacked at any moment.

Nearly at the top of the glen, suddenly out from the black darkness of a small cave sprang the most hideous-looking old hag of a naked savage anyone had ever looked upon.

She stood upon a ledge of a rock, and stretched a skinny arm towards Guilford.

"What seek you, white man?"

"Who are you, and where are the rest of the tribe?" shouted the officer.

"I one witch. I been Queensland. You not come kidnap poh Gwalee once moh? Ha, ha, ha. I too ole now, and ugly. My tribe gone ober de sea in big, big war canoe. You seek you white sailor? He down in de ribber pool."

Near by, under the cliff, was a still, brown pool in the stream, and from this was fished out poor Tom's body, the neck half severed with a battle axe.

Poor Tom, it was his last adventure on this shore.

The island, which was not large, was searched from end to end, but no other human body was found.

To have fired the forest could have done no good, only birds and beasts and the old witch would have suffered. So before the sudden darkness of a tropical night fell, the men entered the boats and shoved off.

One boat contained the remains of their unfortunate shipmate, and next morning steam was got up, and Tom sleeps in the green depths of the coral sea.

How quickly such things are forgotten in the Service. Tom's clothes were sold by auction, but his ditty box and its trinkets of value, including a letter from the lass who had loved Tom, were kept, and sent home to England, to his old mother. These trinkets and the letter were sacred things, they were holy, no man on board would have bought them. Then everything went on us usual on board the _Breezy_.

*CHAPTER XXII*

*IN SLUMBERING WOODS--KEP CAPTURED BY SAVAGES*

Brawny Surgeon McTavish, and almost equally sturdy Stormalong, with Kep, had many a ramble among the woods and hills of New Guinea. They were collecting specimens, they were studying Nature in the concrete. God's glorious and thrilling fantasia of woods and wilds and water and of rolling tree-clad hills. But into the deepest darkness of the forests they seldom penetrated, tempting though it looked. For it was not merely bright-winged birds and strange mammals that these stately forests gave homes to, but wandering savages, as implacably fierce as any the world contains.

And still, as seen from the sea, these landscapes looked so peaceful and serene, one could scarcely believed that any evil thing could dwell therein. There was a charm to a mind like the doctor's about its very stillness, that often lured him farther into it than it was at all times safe to venture. Wherever he went, the others would follow.

Creeping one day through the slumbering woods and by the broad river's banks, they came suddenly upon a somewhat elderly chief, who was seated on a rock, with a fish net depending from a long rod. In the evening of his days he was enjoying himself apparently at this placid sport. With the exception of beads and bangles, and his massive crown of feather-adorned hair, he was naked as the lizards that crawled on the adjoining trees.

Beside him lay bow and arrows and spear, while an ugly knife was fastened to his girdle of rope.

Our heroes had been a good ten miles into the interior that day, and were now returning, Kep carrying specimens of flora and fauna, Stormalong with a wild pig slung over his back.

Fishing is so civil a pastime that they at once threw down their burdens and squatted near the fellow.

A more hideous savage Kep had not yet beheld. Tattooed all over the body, peleles in his ears, a ring of gold attached to one nostril, and the upper lip slit in two to show his terrible red-stained triangular teeth.

One glance at that mouth, and his black hide spotted with red paint, proclaimed him a cannibal.

He clutched his bunch of poisoned arrows, and started to his feet.

"Sit down, my friend," said McTavish coolly. "I could lift you by the neck, man, and throw you across the boulders into the centre stream. Sit down, friend, and tell me all about yourself."

This chief grumblingly obeyed.

He had in his youth been kidnapped to Queensland and knew the white man's speech.

Strangely enough this fellow, like all who have come back from civilization to their native fastnesses, are the fiercest and most wily savages of all.

"What fob you callee me 'fliend'? I not lub de Engleese.

"The natives are all friends of mine."

"Ugh! Dat because you one big woman."

McTavish wore a plain grey kilt and badger-head sporran.

"By gum!" said Stormalong, laughing, "there is enough of you, sir, to make two women instead of one."

"You big bigee woman, and lub ebery man. Dat is how. But," he went on, "Fadder-landee[1] much more goodee as Bleetish man. Bleetish man wuff--wuff (rough and unkind), he call me, Gobolohlo, one dam niggah. All same Gobolohlo chief from far ober de mountain."

[1] The German Colonist.

He struck his painted chest with his fist, to show that he was Gobolohlo, and that he wasn't to be scorned.

But McTavish appeased him with tobacco, which he began to tear and chew.

"Fadder-landee," he continued, "he come on soh (shore) in he boat. He seek for Gobolohlo in de fah inteliol (far interior). He touch Gobolohlo, he gibee me mooch dlink to dlink, mooch fine baccy, and so I lub he.

"Den he say to me, Gobolohlo, he say, 'Fadder-landee not make goodee meat. Engleese man mooch fine long-pig. Fadder-landee no goodee eat. Taste.' Den I take he hand and lick. Foo--foo. Bad, bad.[2] But, 'poh chief,' he tellee me now. You lookee pale. All you fightee men lookee sick. Go to de Bleetish side, and get flesh (fresh) air, you soon be bettah after dat.

[2] This German officer had no doubt rubbed his hands with quinine. A good idea when one visits cannibals.

"So, Gobolohlo he come back. Plenty fightee man yondeh in de bush."

Soothed by the baccy, Gobolohlo grew more communicative.

"Kill missionaly one day," he told the surgeon confidentially. "Missionaly fly in bush to hidee he'sef. But my walliols dey soon catchee he, and kill fo' rost. Ah dat Bleetish missionaly, he make fine pork. Yum! yum!"

He patted his stomach as he spoke.

McTavish was a man of quick action, when he saw his duty clear before him.

He hit that cannibal chief clean off the boulder on which he sat. And before he woke, our heroes had bound and gagged him.

"Leave that wild pig," said the doctor quietly, "and hoist this wilder pig on your broad back, Stormalong. Why, we've caught the very cannibal who killed poor Mr. Tain, just three years ago. And now, lads, let us to our boat. We may be attacked at any moment. Sly dogs those Germans! but they've played into our hands this time."

There was about half a mile of open country near the beach, with a village in its rear, a village of friendlies. If they could but reach this, they thought they would be safe.

However, Kep was sent off in front, to signal the ship for armed assistance. Poor lad, he never reached the shore, and it was not till an hour later that Captain Breezy noticed that there was mischief on shore.

The ship lay in deep water not far off, and the day was singularly quiet and still.

Both McTavish and Stormalong, carried two revolvers each, and the ringing of these, followed by the wild cries of the attacking cannibals, told its own terrible tale.

Never were boats manned and armed more quickly. Hardly three minutes had elapsed, before they were speeding shorewards.

They found the doctor and gunner besieged in the strongest house of the village, into which they had dragged their prisoner Gobolohlo.

A message from the ship, in the shape of a shell, that burst in the rear of the bamboo village, had startled the savages, who imagining they were being surrounded, fled into the forest.

Neither McTavish nor his companion were injured. They had fought with their clubbed rifles, and more than one dead cannibal lay out there on the street of sand to prove their prowess.

The bluejackets chased the enemy a long distance, and giving them pepper, so there was plenty of food for rats and ants in the woods that night.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, where was Kep?

Far enough away by this time. He had been captured by the cannibals, and borne off inland. Indeed, in his haste, he had stumbled right into the arms of natives, who had been hurried to the beach to try to outflank the doctor.

Gobolohlo was placed in irons in the cells, as soon as taken on board, and a sentry set to watch him. No wild beast ever looked more terrible behind bars than did this fearful cannibal.

The mountain savages were in full retreat now, back to the recesses of their own land. Kep, bound hand and foot, was carried on a litter in the vanguard, for even savages have some method in their military madness.

The cannibals kept up their march until nearly midnight, and at last lit fires, and huge ones they were.

Kep, who knew a little of their language, lay for a time in a kind of apathetic stupor. He did not even feel afraid. He had been terribly frightened at first, but knowing what his end must be, and that, as soon as he was bludgeoned, he would be cooked and eaten, all fear had fled. He only hoped it would all be over quickly. He even found himself wondering apathetically on which of the fires the rude gridiron of hard wood would be placed to receive his body.

Then two of the very wildest and most grotesquely tattooed savages approached the spot where he lay. Each had an ugly naked knife in his belt, and one carried a large wooden bowl.

They were coming to kill him. And a knife is so much more awful than a bludgeon.

He closed his eyes, and shuddered a little.

They murder their victims with coolness, too, these cannibals. They are as pitiless, as merciless, as a butcher slaying a lamb. They made him sit up now.

"Be quick, be quick," cried the poor lad. "Oh God, be quick!" But Kep was mistaken.

The bowl was not to hold his blood. It was filled with a mess of fruit, mixed with cocoa-nut milk, made by rubbing the kernel down in water.

"Dlink," they told him, and Kep managed to empty the basin, under threats of instant death if he refused.

They now felt him all over, and pinched his arms and legs. Kep was hard and firm, but carried no fat. The boy knew the worst now, he was to be fattened up for a feast.

Tired and weary, he sank into a deep sleep so soon as his captors had left him, and could hardly remember all he had come through, when he at last awoke, just as the red gleams of the newly risen sun shone like fire among the tallest trees.

Again was he fed. This time with some sort of grain, like arrow-root, boiled, and mixed with a little kava.

Camp was then struck, and the march was a long one of some fifty miles, but during the day, he was fed three or four times. And, tied to one of the most brutal-looking of the savages, was led as if he had been a wild beast. He had to walk nearly all the distance. Luckily for him, he was strong enough to stand it, else would he have been clubbed to death. Hope now began to tell him a flattering tale? Was there not a chance of escape. It seemed impossible, but----

The thought of it, anyhow, made the poor prisoner happier.

He had not forgotten his piccolo, the little black flute that had charmed even cobras. They had not taken this away, for he wore that under his jersey, and though his captors had felt it, they evidently thought it was a rib.

His couch by night, was made of green boughs, and his sleep was sound enough.

One day a band of armed savages came shouting to meet them, and then Kep knew that he had reached his new home.

The camp that night was at the foot of a mountain, that towered high and steep for full four thousand feet into the blue sky. It was up to the top of this hill he had to march next morning, and very much surprised he was when he found himself in the crater of an extinct volcano. It was fully a mile in diameter, with a very large building in the centre.

The village--a very quaint one--was built around this palace of Gobolohlo. There he had dwelt with his two wives, who if they were not widows already, would very soon be.

The depths of this crater, and even the sides all around, were covered with bushes and verdure, and adorned by Nature with the rarest and most beautiful of flowers.

Now, right to this palace, Kep was dragged, and introduced to the cannibal queens, who were well clad in short, bright-coloured frocks of calico, with feather-fringed skirts. Both were young, both interesting looking, and one really pretty. Their naked ankles and bare arms were encircled with bands of gold set with precious stones.

They evidently admired the boy, just as a farmer or butcher may admire a calf. For they prodded him with their little fat forefingers, then laughed scornfully and shook their heads.

"He not much meat," said the younger queen, in English. She had been captured by the recruiters, when a mere child, and carried to Queensland, but was sent back in a few years to her own wild island.

"I'm no good to eat at all, your lovely majesty."

"In three weeks' time, though," she smiled.

Then Kep's food was brought, his hands were freed, and Gobolohlo's queens screamed with laughter to behold him eat so heartily, which on this occasion he really did, to please them.

He was ordered to sit down till they should study him a little longer.

He really appeared to afford great fun to their majesties.

But when he took out his piccolo, and begun to breathe his griefs and sorrows into that, their mirth changed into pensive melancholy. They listened enraptured. He changed his tune, and turned on the sailor's hornpipe. They were all smiles once more, and giving the attendants a sign, they withdrew, and in about half an hour the hall was nearly filled with dancing flower-adorned cannibal maidens.

It was a strange wild scene, and stranger from the fact, that in this case, youth and beauty was dressed in nothing else save flowers and feathers.

At the end of the ball, the younger queen rushed forward and saluted Kep, by rubbing her nose against his.

"You good, good, goodee boy," she cried. "For tree week you play to me, den----"

"Then what, your majesty?"

"I lub you so much den, dat I eatee you. Plenty ob kava and spice--Yum! yum!"

"This is something to look forward to, with a vengeance," said Kep to himself.

The next two days and evenings, passed in much the same way.

Their majesties had been told of the capture of their united husband, but it didn't affect them a great deal.

"Pah!" the younger said, "Gobolohlo good king, but he not make plenty good meat fo' de Bleetish mans ob war."

But the very next day, Boona, the younger queen, seemed very sad, and after the boy had done piping, she came and squatted beside him.

"You too good foh kill. All same to-mollow you be kill and eat."

This was certainly somewhat disquieting news, and he naturally wanted to know why this change of plans had come about.

His voice trembled a little as he spoke.

"De oder queen, she hate pooh Boona. Den she think I lub you vely mooch. She de stronger queen, and so she killee you to-mollow."

Kep could see now that it was a case of jealousy. Boona laid her naked arm across Kep's shoulder, and once more rubbed noses.

"Goodeebye," she said; "only I nebber see you mo, till you dead and roas', and de odder queen, she eatee all de bes' bits ob my boy. No let Boona taste."

For the last two or three nights Kep had been allowed to sleep without the galling fetters, but this evening he was more strongly bound than ever.

He did not close his eyes once. He knew the end had come, and that his messmates would be able only to guess how he had suffered.

It was late next day, when he was dragged from his prison, and made to sit down, not far from a bigger fire than he had yet seen. And the great grid was being got ready.

This was all so horrible, that Kep felt going out of his mind. He could only close his eyes and pray.

Pray for death; delivery, he believed, was out of the question. If they would kill him first; but he had received the news, very unceremoniously given, that he was to be stripped, and tied alive to the gridiron, which would then be lowered over the fire, when the latter was fierce enough.

He had been too deep in thought, and too distrait--he felt that he was going mad--to notice a great cloud that was rising slowly up in the east.

But now the day suddenly grew as dark as night, and the rain came down in torrents, while thunder pealed nearer and nearer, the savages looking like demons in the lightning's glare.

Then Kep remembered no more. He had fainted away.

When he came to himself again, the darkness all around was intense.

*CHAPTER XXIII*

*FIERCE FIGHTING WITH THE CANNIBALS*

Impenetrable darkness! Nothing to be seen.

Not a sound to be heard save now and then the cry of a night bird far below in the forest, or the rustle of a lizard in the now dry grass. He could not tell the time. Morning might already be close at hand, and up from the sea the sun would leap and silver the trees and the clouds.

Kep trembled when he thought that this day would surely be his last, and that the fearful death was yet before him.

List! It is a step that comes softly nearer and nearer. Then he feels warmth on his cheek as some one by his side whispers in his ear. "Hushee. Hush. No speak me."

Then his bonds are severed with a sharp knife or dagger and he is free though weak and feeble in his knees.

"Are you the beautiful queen?"

"I is Boona. But come alonga me. You too good, vely good a boy to eat. Sides you no fat yet."

He felt himself being led by a soft, soft hand. Out and away into the blackness of night. Out and away through the flowers of the bushes, and up the crater's craggy side.

"Run, run, we mus' be fah, fah away before the sun he shinee again. Run, cause if dey catches we, bof must die. I hab jus' kill de ugly old queen."

Despite his gratitude, Kep shivered a little as he thought that the hand which held his was that of a murderess, and that the backs of the fingers might still be stained with human blood. Yet who was he that he should judge of or attempt to weigh the sum of this girl's guiltiness.

In the days of his real boyhood he had been used to running barefooted in moors and on hills, so he hardly missed the shoes the savages had stolen from him.

Long before daybreak they were fifteen miles at least from Cannibal Mountain, and soon they found themselves on the banks of a broad river.

The queen made Kep rest far up in the green foliage of a vast spreading tree while she herself ran off to find food. She soon returned bringing many kinds of delicious fruits. For a while they rested, then from the bushes close by the river she dragged a light black canoe, and beckoned him to take his seat.

He did so, and next moment the boat was rapidly being paddled down the beautiful river.

Kep was too full of thought to take much heed of the sweet romantic scenery that changed and changed at every bend of the stream. But he observed by looking at the sun and judging the time, that they were not taking the direction in which the _Breezy_ lay. Sometimes, indeed, they were facing directly east.

This was indeed a mystery. But he determined not even to ask the queen, lest he might seem to doubt her goodness and honesty.

Just one question however he asked. Did, he wanted to know, the lovely young queen Boona kill the ugly old one with her own hands.

"Pah! no," she answered. "I not hab her black blood run ober my hands and spit on my booful dless (dress). No, no, Boona hab plenty fliends in the palace."

She rose higher in his estimation now. Much higher. He was not sitting near a murderess after all. So now he determined to let things slide. And thinking thus, the boy, just where he sat, dropped into a sound sleep unlike anything he had ever enjoyed before.

* * * * *

We must be done now with the cannibal chief, Gobolohlo. He was tried just there on the beach by drum-head court martial, sentenced, tied to a tree, and a volley of rifle bullets fired into him. His body was left for the ants to pick.

Meanwhile Jack Stormalong was missed, but before an hour had passed his manly voice was heard singing aloud, as he came staggering along, bearing the wild pig on his back.

"Catch Jack," he said as he flung it down, "leave a bit o' good food like that to go to waste."

No trace nor trail had the savages left behind, so Jack Stormalong, who was perfectly at home among savages, retreated once more, while at the same time boats were plying hastily twixt ship and shore and a punitive expedition was being formed.

He was not long in finding a beach-man who knew the stronghold of Gobolohlo and his queens. A bargain was soon struck, and that very night sixty fully armed bluejackets and marines with one maxim were on track and trail of the cannibals, and moving eastwards with all possible speed.

Their route however could not be the same direct one which the savages had taken but a longer and easier.

Kivi, the guide, seemed faithful and honest, but he was very well watched indeed, in case he might lead the party into an ambush.

Luckily the weather kept fine and clear. They were making forced marches.

They passed through or up wide valleys, forded rivers carrying the maxim, and clambered over bare hills and plunged into deep, dark forests.

With them they had brought red paint, beads, calico, sugar, and tinned meats, with trinkets of Birmingham gold and silver, so that though the wild natives would take no silver it was easy to barter for fruit, fowls, or whatever they needed.

The villagers usually retired at first into their sago-palm dwellings, but were afraid to attack, but a present brought them to reason, then they swarmed around the British bluejackets and were only too familiar.

The doctor or Guilford warned their guide to keep strict silence. If he but opened his mouth to speak one word, they told him he would have his tongue cut out.

Sometimes they had to cut down great trees to form bridges across the dark deep streams.

It was a hard and hazardous march, which few save British sailors could have continued with so little sleep.

At one village of unfriendly savages arrows were fired and spears thrown. One of the marines was injured so that it became necessary to stop to fight these wild fellows. After a volley or two, however, they fled howling into the forest. Only after this the watch by night was stricter than ever.

There was but little hope, they knew well, of saving poor Kep, but they were determined to punish the cannibals, and to know the youth's fate.

One broiling hot day, the sun so fierce that birds with gaping bills sat silent on the boughs, and the very lizards panted, they were suddenly confronted by a tall burly naked savage. He was as much taken aback as the sailors themselves.

He let fly an arrow and then turned and fled. Jack Stormalong and a first-class boy took up the running and kept the savage in sight for miles, till he began to scramble up a high mountain's side, when they returned.

"Dat am Gobolohlo palace," said their guide, "all along de mountain top."

"Hurrah!" cried McTavish, and began singing--

Now's the day and now's the hour
See the point of battle lower.

"We may not find the boy," he said to Guilford, "but I for one feel brimful of fight, and we will at any rate revenge his death."

They were guided out now on to the open, and after feeding, it could hardly be called dinner, they started away across the moor, for that it was in every respect.

Gobolohlo's mountain soon came in view, and then the front of battle did begin to lower.

The mountain path seemed alive with wildly gesticulating savages brandishing clubs and spears and shouting.

They formed themselves into all sorts of grotesque attitudes too; they crawled or crept like wild beasts, and one lot on a bit of flat ground stood, one above the other, in a spear-armed pyramid.

"Bring down that top fellow, Jones," cried Guilford.

Jones was the crack shot of the ship, and one bullet brought the savage's body right on top of the spears of his comrades.

The pyramid dissolved itself after that, and presently a cloud of these blacks came leaping and yelling down.

Three or four volleys were fired and did good service, but, finding that the rear-guard was pushing on, the marines had recourse to the maxim, and soon scores of cannibals were in a heap, wounded or dead, and the rest were flying for their lives up the mountain side.

There was only one gateway or rent in the mountain top to give admission to the crater, and this was stoutly held.

Showers of arrows came pouring down and several of the _Breezy's_ men fell.

A charge was made now with fixed bayonets, and the officers' revolvers begun to do their deadly work.

But in less than ten minutes the gangway, as Stormalong called it, was carried and the enemy were in full flight down into the crater. The bluejackets and marines must follow up their victory till it became a permanent one. This they did with splendid heroism, but the foe had rallied, and at one time it was touch and go with the athlete McTavish and Stormalong. They were completely surrounded, but they stood back to back, and fought like lions at bay, the surgeon with his broadsword, Jack with his great pet cutlass.

It was a grand but terrible sight, and both sides paused, as if by common consent, to witness it.

Here was brawny Scotland and brave England fighting back to back in the same cause, turning round and round as they hung together, and showering their blows like wintry rain.

Guilford declared afterwards that no less than five men were cloven to the shoulders by the claymore of McTavish.

The fight on the side of the cannibals was but feebly sustained after this; and when the maxim was once again brought into play the dusky warriors turned and fled.

They could be seen on the ridge of the crater escaping, and many were shot and their bodies rolled over the hilltop. The whole place was then cleared and sentries set to guard the gangway.

Expecting a night attack, no fires were built, and the men laid themselves down and slept, tired and weary enough, till at last the sun appeared over the rim of the crater and saw them safe.

Their own casualties were but small, though seven poor fellows would never see the chalky cliffs of dear old England again.

These were solemnly borne down to be buried far in the forest shade where no foe would ever find them. The wounded were helped along.

They could find no trace of Kep, except the awful grid on which he was to have been roasted. This they smashed to pieces, the king's castle was fired, then slowly and sadly the long march back was commenced.

The guide took them a nearer way now. There was little danger from enemies and nothing else to be feared.

McTavish took the very greatest care of his wounded, and on their account solely he would not permit the march homewards to be hurried. The worst cases were carried on litters.

There would have been plenty of time even to collect specimens. But somehow the honest Scot, whose heart was the quintessence of kindness, never once left camp for that purpose.

He had become strangely attached to Kep. He was certainly a lovable lad, and besides there was still the mystery about him which had not yet been cleared up. Indeed, McTavish knowing that any reference thereto appeared to hurt the boy's feelings, refrained from making any attempt to do so.

When they had reached a spot within about ten miles of the beach shortly before sunset one evening, a halt was called for the night, and the guide, who appeared to know nothing of fatigue, was started on ahead to announce the tidings of their arrival. He was to remain on board as the rest of the track was familiar enough to both McTavish and Jack Stormalong.

All hands were glad of a good night's rest. The wounded were doing well, and the very worst cases could now walk.

So after breakfast next day, all hands feeling happier now at heart, the journey was resumed beachwards.

McTavish, trudging sturdily ahead of the troop, had just issued from the forest and sighted the _Breezy_.

She had never looked more beautiful in his eyes, nor had the sunshine on the soft waters, but the flag was flying half mast, and McTavish knew by this that the guide had told the tale of grim fighting and death.

But he started back in amazement to see marching as slowly along the beach as lovers twain, a handsome young gentleman and a gaily dressed brown woman.

"By George!" That is what McTavish exclaimed. But Jack who had just joined him put it stronger.

"By thunder!" he roared, "if that ain't Charlie Bowser himself, all alive low and aloft, may the winds of heaven split my bally old bags."

And Kep it was without a doubt, as smiling and as saucy as ever.

He and Boona hurried up to meet the returning heroes, and the shaking of hands and British cheering that ensued was such as had certainly never been heard before on these lonely shores.

"And now," said Kep, as soon as silence was partially restored, "now Dr. McTavish and Lieutenant Guilford, with your permissions, I will present you to Queen Boona, widow of the late Gobolohlo, whose skeleton now adorns yonder tree stem."

With much solemnity both officers lifted their caps and bowed with befitting dignity.

"She's a deuced handsome girl, anyhow," cried Guilford laughing, and the doctor nodded. He felt very happy now and still more so when Kep handed him a parcel containing his instrument. He laughed at the strange conceit of his boy friend, but willingly tuned up, and so they marched to the boats to the wild skirl of the great Highland bagpipe.

As they passed the tree at the foot of which Gobolohlo expiated his crimes, Kep pointed to the bleached skeleton that rattled in the breeze. It had been wired and fixed up on chains, and above it a large board on which were painted the words--

Here hangs
The mortal remains of King Gobolohlo,
Who was shot for
Murder and Cannibalism,
By
The Crew of His British Majesty's ship _Breezy_.
God save the King!

But when Boona smiling curtsied to the skeleton, there was some laughing in the ranks. "Good goodee bye, ole Gobolohlo, goodee bye," she cried. "I is goin' back to Queensland. Not mourn long foh you. Pah!"

Then she flung a kiss from her chubby fingers at the grinning skeleton, took Kep by the arm, and marched cheerfully down to the boats.

*CHAPTER XXIV*

*"GOOD HEAVENS! THIS IS MY SISTER MADGE"*

The _Breezy_ was back once more in the grand old harbour of Sidney. The mails from home had come on board and been distributed. It was the reading, thinking hour on board, which invariably comes, and comes immediately, after news from England has reached a ship of war on a far-off foreign station.

Everyone on board had retired with his own letters into his own cabin, den, or cosy corner. Everybody in fact seemed to evince a desire to be as remote, for the time being, from everybody else, as possible.

But gradually, on this bright and sparkling day, with the bonnie white flag aloft, draping itself on the breeze in every conceivable shape of beauty, the ship returned to its ordinary equanimity.

Captain Breezy came now quietly into the ward-room. He was smiling bashfully somewhat. Trying in fact to hide the pleasure afloat and flowing in his heart, that couldn't be controlled.

Every face was turned towards him.

"Ordered home, sir?"

"Ordered home. Yes."

"Hurrah!" And the good news spread like wildfire from end to end of the ship. All hands had it, from ward-room to galley, from the officer on watch to the cook's slush boy. Ordered home!

Yet mingled with the joy that was general, was one little blue thread of sadness. In storm or tempest, in fair weather or foul, for three long years and a half, the broadsword-men of the _Breezy_ had hung together. Their dangers had been one another's on sea or land, and they had fought shoulder to shoulder in many a bloody tulzie, and a spirit of camaraderie had always pervaded the ship, walked the decks, and dwelt in the hearts of the crew. The _Breezy_ had been to them a real home and a happy one at that, a home on the ocean wave. But in a few weeks, they would all be sundered.

Ah, well, such is life to our sailors.

McTavish himself had few letters. Principally from his sisters and the old folks at home.

Nor were Kep's letters very stirring this time. Madge had not yet married the wealthy old man. Father had become settled as it were. Was falling more easily into the new groove, and really, Madge said, life in a cottage by the sea was rather nice than otherwise. "But," she added, "father is longing, and I am longing, for our dear boy and his piccolo back home again to cheer our hearts."

With Madge's letter in his pocket and a photo in it sent to show how she looked at twenty, Kep went below to the doctor's cabin and glided in. His friend was sitting there, lonesome-looking enough, and gazing at a carte intensely, earnestly, in the uncertain light.

"Do I interrupt?"

"No, no, dear boy. Sit you down."

"Mac--may I see that?"

"Oh! it is but a romance and dream I had. It is gone now, and people seldom dream the same dream over again, much though they might desire to."

Kep pulled out his letter and the two exchanged pasteboards.

Both started, as if stung.

"Good heavens!" cried the boy, "this is my sister Madge!"

"And this also is your sister Madge!"

Then hand clasped hand and there was moisture in the eyes of both.

"And I am Keppel Drummond."

"Fool and dolt I was not before to have guessed it."

"But, McTavish, though very young when she met you, she had a romance, and her romance was yours, Mac. She never told me your name, but now I see it all, all clearly."

The two sat down as if under the same impulse, and there, in the cabin alone, Kep told the doctor all his strange story from beginning to end and all his longings as a boy and ambitions as well.

McTavish was silent for a time. He was thinking out the whole situation. Then his duty seeming to stand out before him clearly and distinctly, he stood up. "Keppel," he said, "don't you think you had better tell the Captain all this? I do not wonder now that you thought fit to conceal your name from us. You believed you were doing right; so, I think, you were. You were acting honourably in hiding from the world that you were the only son of Iverach Drummond, of Martello Castle, because he was moving in the highest society and you were--well, cleaning knives and boots. But now all that is altered. You have by your energy and grit attained to a honourable position as interpreter to a King's ship, while on the other hand your father is now living under a cloud--for a time. Let us hope it is only for a time, Keppel. But now you are going to let me introduce you to the ward-room and gun-room officers as the blue-blooded boy, we have all of us, always, believed you to be. But first and foremost let us see Captain Breezy, than which a better fellow never lived."

The Captain was in his own quarters, when, passing the sentry, McTavish knocked and entered.

Very much interested indeed was he, when Kep briefly retold his story.

To their astonishment the Captain got slowly up from his chair, and took a Yorkshire weekly newspaper from his pile. Then he touched a button and Adolph himself entered.

"I am not to be disturbed," he said, "until I ring again. That is all."

And Adolph retired.

"An article in this paper caught my eye, strange to say, only a few minutes ago, but I hardly glanced at it. I think I can now read it to you with some degree of interest. It is called

"A SECRET OF THE SEA.

"A story was current three or four years ago concerning the mate of a clipper-built Australian barque or ship, who, on his return home about three years ago, boasted of the possession of a large nugget or rather bar of gold. The story he told about it was that being sent on shore one day to bring off some fruit from an uninhabited island in the South Seas he picked up this lump of gold, which it was evident had lain in the water for a period of many years.

"'Where there was one there must more,' he said, and as soon as he could charter a ship he could raise the sunken treasure and become a millionaire. As he never let his friends handle the nugget, if nugget of gold it was, and as he was somewhat dissipated in his mode of life, he got no one to believe him. He had lost his ship owing to drunkenness while in charge of a watch and hadn't found another.

"Reduced at last to penury he determined to pawn his nugget, and for that purpose it seems he visited his uncle as the saying is. The pawn-broker was a shrewd old Jew. But although he called the nugget a mere trinket, he was glad to offer money on it nevertheless. Not enough, however, to satisfy the man, who picked up the sea-worn gold and quickly left the shop. He was followed at once to his lodgings and the address taken.

"A few nights after this he was waited upon not by one Jew but two.

"They had been, they said, thinking over his story, and were willing to advance a considerable sum not on the bit of gold, but if the ex-mate would show them a chart and give the exact latitude and longitude of the unknown island.

"A magnum of champagne was sent for and they three talked over the matter.

"But the mate's ultimatum was this: he refused to give the position of the island, but would take command of the search-ship, and the Jews should have half of all the gold, the other to be his unreservedly.

"Before coming to terms one of the Jews hazarded a last shot. Doubtless, he said, they could find the latitude and longitude from some of the others that had been on board the barque at the time.

"The mate helped himself to more wine. He was a man who could fill his hold without fear of his ballast shifting.

"'That you won't,' he said. 'I knew the only two young fellows that had the secret. One was a steward, the other a ship's cook's slush boy. Both, I've heard, were killed by cannibals, and I alone possess the secret, which I means to stick to, till I find more generous partners than you. Good-night.'

"But it seems the mate's last shot told home.

"'Brother,' said the elder, 'let us accept this honest fellow's offer at once. We'll get out the ship then, though it will take a bit of time, and my brother and I will both go out in her. We'd like a bit of fresh air, anyhow.'

"Well," the article went on, "extraordinary as the story is it is a true one. The ship is a great object of interest to the residents of Cardiff, and will be all ready to leave in four months' time. She is a strongly built Aberdeen clipper, not large but well armed, and even carries a quick firer, trouble with savages being feared."

"Keppel, I fear," said Captain Breezy, "they will have the weather gauge of you. But I am interested and will see the Admiral of this station about other matters and take his opinion on this at the same time. Meanwhile you had better say nothing about the sunken treasure. Let this be our secret."

"One word, sir," said Kep, "for you are no doubt a trifle wiser than I."

The Captain couldn't help smiling at the lad's pretty conceit.

"Suppose I found those in this city willing at once to start in search of this sunken treasure, to whom would it belong when raised? To the Crown?"

"Certainly not, boy; but to you, unless the owners came back from the grave. And not only the gold, but the islands themselves, as you were the first inhabitant and it is no portion of British territory. No, the gold would be indisputably yours and Adolph's, your shipwrecked fellow Crusoe. You may go now. I have many matters to think about."

So Captain Breezy had, but he was a brisk, determined man. He lighted his cigar now and leaned back in his easy chair, and began to arrange his ideas.

"That's what I'll do," he said to himself at last.

Next minute the Captain's gig was called away, and it did not take him long to board the flagship.

He transacted all his business coolly and soon had his papers all signed and his instructions to weigh anchor and sail for home any day he pleased. Then he told him Kep's story and all about the treasure.

"And a son of Iverach Drummond. Why, dear old Drummond and I were at school together. I'm surprised, but I'm glad for Keppel's sake, or at least I should be if things go right with him."

"But about the other ship that is fitted out?"

"We'll send a cablegram at once home to hear about it."

They did and the answer came in reasonable time to the effect that the barque _Fortuna_, having engines on board, or what is called auxiliary steam-power, had sailed a month ago by Suez, bound for the South Sea Islands.

"A month ago. Why, Breezy," cried the Admiral, "you can beat her yet, and beat her easily unless you break down. It's only a matter of a few weeks' delay. I'll make that all right, and you have my permission now to go anywhere on your way home and do just as you please."

"A thousand thanks, sir. I shall soon speak my fond farewells to Sidney city, and be under weigh and on the wing by to-morrow forenoon. It may be a bit of a race between the _Breezy_ and the _Fortuna_, but I think I know who will win, sir."

"Good morning. Shall be happy to hear from you."

And back to the _Breezy_ went bold Captain Breezy.

* * * * *

That evening and night all farewells were said to those on shore. The broadsword-men of the _Breezy_ had a good send off and left Sidney homeward bound next forenoon at four bells.

Said Jack Stormalong to a brother gunner as the ship got well away from the shore, "Ned, my old shippie, we're homeward bound, you know, but there's something in the wind, and I'm ready to bet my best new jacket to a pint o' tar that we won't touch England's happy shores for months to come yet."

"On with you," said Ned. "I'll have your swagger jacket or you'll have my pint o' tar with a cinder in it for luck."

*CHAPTER XXV*