Chapter XXII: A Terrible Apparition

They spent the afternoon dreamily wandering about in the woods or on the beach; for Fred and Frank, not being used to real hard manual labour, had hardly yet got over the fatigues of the day before. But Quambo and Magilvray were not so idle. They were busy cutting down the dead branches in the jungle, and bearing them to the beach to serve as firewood. They soon had an immense pile handy.

So all the evening, from half-past six, when it fell dark, till everybody turned in for the night, the camp fire was kept alight. Not that heat was needed by any means, but simply because, as Fred phrased it, "it looked cosy."

* * * * * *

And now, although these marooned mariners determined to take life easy, and make themselves as happy and comfortable as circumstances would permit, they took means, nevertheless, by which it was possible that the attention of some passing ship might be arrested, and so perchance their deliverance effected. This consisted in erecting a beacon on the hill-top, and on the very next morning they set about the work.

For once in a way little Cassia-bud was left, in company with Hurricane Bob, to mind the camp, while the others betook themselves to the mountain. Under the circumstances the task of preparing and hoisting the beacon was by no means a very simple one. It was easy to find a tree long and straight and tall enough, but having no other tools but their jackknives, it took a very long time indeed to cut it down, to trim, and hoist it.

At first it was proposed by Frank, and seconded by Magilvray, to turn the beacon into a kind of flagstaff, the flag itself being a large piece of spare canvas that happened to be in the boat.

"There is this objection to your plan," said Fred, laughing, "canvas doesn't make much of a show as a flag; it doesn't dry easy after a shower; and if it once gets wound round the pole it will cling like death to a dead nigger. No, I say let it be a beacon; and I've heard Daddy Pop remark, in days of old, Frank, that there is no beacon so effective as a broom."

"All right then," said Fred, "let us hoist the broom."

So the broom-beacon was hoisted accordingly; and if the reader wants to know what it looked like when up, let him imagine a tall and sturdy flagstaff with a huge bunch of branches attached to the very summit of it.

It looked splendid, I do assure you, and was not only visible from the camp, but capable of being seen from far at sea. After it was up, and the pole firmly fixed by means of stones rammed well home by hitting them hammer-fashion with other stones, Fred took off his cap, and waving it round his head timed his companions with a "Hip, hip, hip!" to three rattling good British cheers.

"Wowff--wowff--wowff!" that was the sound of Hurricane Bob's voice in response to the cheers, and it was afterwards discovered that little Cassia-bud, well knowing that his own feeble cheering would not be heard, had excited the dog to bark.

"Well," said Magilvray, looking up at the broom, "I must say, young gents, as how I'd 'ave preferred seeing a flag flyin'. The broom looks Dutch, don't it?"

"Oh, yes! by-the-by," said Frank, "Mac is right, Fred. There was a great Dutch admiral, you remember who once hoisted a broom at the mainmast head, and swore he wouldn't take it down again till he had swept the British from the seas. What was his name? Von Trump, or Von Dunk, or something, wasn't it?"

"Van der Decken!" said Fred seriously.

"You're laughing at me," said Frank. "But come on, men, I'm as hungry as a tiger, and nothing to eat but cold fish and fruit when we get home."

No wonder, indeed, that all hands were hungry; for hoisting the broom had taken them nearly the whole day.

They reached the beach about two hundred yards from the camp. Cassia-bud had heard them coming along through the bush, and had run along the white soft sands to meet them, Hurricane Bob bringing up the rear. Kashie was breathless, not with running, but with fear. It must be remembered he was little more than a child. The giant Quambo took him up in his arms, and clinging to his big friend's neck he cast frightened glances seawards, looking the very picture of abject terror.

"Oh, massa!" he gasped, looking piteously at Fred, "I'se seen de debbil, and I not want to stop any more all by myse'f near the sea."

"Seen the devil, Kashie! What do you mean, boy? When did you see him? What was he like, eh?"

"Oh, sah, he like one awful big fish, bigger than a boat, sah! He jump right up out ob de sea one, two, tree time. Jump right high up in de sky; and he all black, wid awful eyes, sah, and, oh! sah, _he had nuffin on but his head_. It was de debbil, sah, fob true."

Fred and Frank both burst out laughing, but the poor child seemed really and truly scared nearly out of his wits.

"Well," said Fred, "it is evident Cassia-bud has seen something. But surely the island is haunted! What a fearful apparition! The head of a fish as big as a boat, and awful eyes, or, as Kashie calls it, a fish with 'nuffin on but his head,' leaping black against the blue of the sky. Horrible!"

It took quite a long time to comfort Kashie; but when at last Fred said, "Well, come along, Kash, I'm hungry, bring out the cold fish," then Kashie wriggled out of Quambo's arms, and off he ran in front.

It would be hard to say whether our hungry heroes were more pleased or surprised to find that the boy had cooked them a capital dinner of roasted fish, crab, and plantains. The latter ate like mealy potatoes. Moreover, he had been up in the bush, and had found plates growing on the trees, big broad scented leaves of the lemon _Hibiscus_, and beside each plate stuck in the soft sand was a green cocoa-nut all ready to drink.*

* The green cocoa-nut contains scarcely any kernel, but about a quart of most delightful, cool, and delicious water.

Poor little Kashie gradually grew happier now, and was soon his laughing white-toothed rolling-eyed little self again. And as for the others, they had not felt so cheerful and merry since they had been accidentally marooned.

I must say here at once, and be done with it, that one cause of the extra jollity exhibited by Quambo and Magilvray, was rooted in the fact that on this very day the giant negro had found a species of wild tobacco growing on the mountain side. I think it is called _krava_ or _grava_ by natives of Polynesia. I only judge by the sound. However Magilvray said to Fred more than once that evening that a load was lifted off his mind.

"I don't mind wanting rum or coffee," he said, "but better 'ang me at once, sir, than cut off my bit o' baccy. So here's good luck to 'Ope Island, says I."

And with that brief speech Magilvray took a large drink from his cocoa-nut, and stuck it in the sand again, with a look of satisfaction that was most refreshing to behold.

Long after the sun went down that night there was bright moonlight.

Only half a moon was shining it is true, but the air being so clear everything was almost as bright as day in England.

"What do you say to a row on the lake to-night?" said Fred.

"Yes, happy thought!" cried Frank, "a row and a song."

The sheet of smooth water betwixt the reef and the shore was called the lake by our Crusoes.

It was indeed a lovely night; a bank of coral-white clouds lay low on the horizon, otherwise the dark blue sky-depths were studded over with silvery stars of singular brilliancy, while the moon shed a broad band of clearest light across the rippling sea.

Shorewards the hills, and glens, and groves of cocoa palms were softened and spiritualized by the moon's mellow rays.

To-night Magilvray stayed at home with little Kashie, while Quambo and Frank rowed the boat, Fred took the tiller, and Hurricane Bob stood in the bows.

But Fred had another duty to perform, he had to lead the singing.

What a happy, hopeful time is youth! Here were our two heroes cast away on a lonely island in the midst of the sea, far removed from the tracks of commerce, with no means of communicating with the outer world--buried alive one might say--yet on this bright, beautiful night, rowing about on the placid bosom of the bay, as devoid of all thought and care as if sailing on Loch Lomond or Windermere. Some portion of the happiness they felt, and the hopefulness too, was undoubtedly due to the climate itself. The air here is so pure, the breath of the ocean, mingling with the spicy odours from off the island, so balmy, so life-giving, that only to exist is to live, only to have being is calmness and content combined.

For two whole hours they rowed up and down their lake, singing the songs of their far-off native land, only desisting now and then to lean on their oars and talk of home and dear old times--times that appeared to their young minds already long buried in the distant past.

They were slowly paddling along the inside of the reef, just beyond the range of the falling spray. But this last was but little to-night, for the tide was well out, and there was scarcely any swell on.

Yet the sound of the breaking waters was very soothing, and caused them to linger longer alongside the reef than they might otherwise have done.

Fred was just clearing his throat for another song, when he was attracted by the strange attitude of the Newfoundland. The dog was standing with his forepaws on the gunwale of the boat, his ears were forward, his hair on end from head to tail, and uttering a low, half-frightened, but ominous growl.

"Look at the dog," cried Fred. "He sees or hears something on the reef or over it."

The idea of savages in their canoes at once occurred to Frank, for nobody was even yet sure that the island was entirely uninhabited.

"Better pull a little way in, I think," said Frank.

"Give way then," said Fred.

The oars were silently dipped into the water, all three men listening intently at the time, with their faces turned towards the reef.

Suddenly on the other side of the surf they distinctly heard a hustling, rushing, fearful noise, accompanied by a low but startling cry, as of some creature in dire distress.

Nearer and nearer with almost the speed of a rocket it seemed to come, then ceased entirely, but at the same time, betwixt them and the moonlight, at least fifteen feet high in the air, they beheld an apparition that, in such a situation, was enough to frighten the boldest man that ever lived.

It was simply the great black head and two fins--no more apparently--of a monster fish with goggle eyes and open mouth. It took the water near the boat, raising a wave of breaking water that all but swamped it, and was seen no more.

When Fred looked up he saw both Quambo and Frank crouched down almost in the bottom of the boat, though it was half full of water.

Frank was the first to speak.

"Mercy on us!" he cried. "What was that?"

"Favaroo! favaroo!" said Quambo. "That is _favaroo_." His voice trembled as he spoke. "A devil fish; de evil spirit bite all away his body one day, and now he go everywhere trying to find he."

"Oh!" cried Fred, laughing now, "that is really the awful creature that little Kashie took for 'de debbil that hadn't got nuffin on but his head.' It is a sunfish as big as an elephant."

"Well," said Frank, "I've heard of such visitations, but I didn't know the beast could jump like that before. Let us bail out the boat. Why she is half swamped!"

"What a mercy the monster didn't fall on us. Where would we have been, Fred?"

"Look there," said Fred, pointing over the gunwale.

Frank gazed fearfully in the direction indicated. Two monster tiger sharks were floating quietly about near the boat.

Suddenly Fred sprang to his feet.

"Oh, men," he cried, "where is the dog? Where is poor Hurricane Bob?"

The question was by no means difficult to answer. Without doubt in the extremity of his terror he had sprung overboard, and been instantly devoured by the sharks. What a sad and sudden ending to a moonlight concert!

Bob was a favourite, not with Cassia-bud only, but with everybody, and to lose the noble fellow, and lose him thus. It was altogether too shocking to think about!

Straight away for the shore they rowed now, but in silence all. They had received a shock that it would take weeks to get over. Not from the terror of the apparition, but from the loss of the honest dog, who had really come to be considered one of themselves.

Their astonishment and delight therefore may be better conceived than described, when, as soon as the boat rasped upon the silvery sand, Hurricane Bob himself came joyfully bounding and barking to meet them.

Instead of attempting to get into the boat again he had simply headed away for the beach, and landed in safety. But, strange to say, the dog from that day forward could seldom be prevailed upon to go even a little way into the water, and when taken anywhere in the boat he invariably crouched down beneath the thwarts, lying there quietly until once more safe on shore.

But the adventure of this evening quite cleared up the mystery, of Cassia-bud's "debbil with nuffin but his head on."