Gascoyne, The Sandal Wood Trader by R. M. Ballantyne

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"By all means," said Gascoyne, coolly. "It will afford me much pleasure
to do as you wish, and to have you alongside of my little craft."

Montague was surprised at the perfect coolness with which the other
received his proposal. He was persuaded that there must be some
mysterious connection between the pirate schooner and the sandal-wood
trader, although his ideas were at this point somewhat undefined and
confused; and he had expected that Gascoyne would have shown some
symptoms of perplexity on being thus ordered to conduct the Talisman to
a spot where, he suspected, no schooner would be found, or, if found,
would appear under such a changed aspect as to warrant his seizing it on
suspicion. As Gascoyne, however, showed perfect willingness to obey the
order, he turned away, and left his strange pilot to conduct the ship
through the reefs, having previously given him to understand that the
touching of a rock and the termination of his (Gascoyne's) life would
certainly be simultaneous events.

Meanwhile the Avenger, alias the Foam, had steered direct for the shore,
into which she apparently ran, and disappeared like a phantom-ship. The
coast of this part of the island, where the events we are narrating
occurred, was peculiarly formed. There were several narrow inlets in the
high cliffs which were exceedingly deep, but barely wide enough to admit
of the passage of a large boat or a small vessel. Many of these inlets
or creeks, which in some respects resembled the narrow fiords of Norway,
though on a miniature scale, were so thickly fringed with trees, and the
luxuriant undergrowth peculiar to southern climes, that their existence
could not be detected from the sea. Indeed, even after the entrance to
any one of them was discovered, no one would have imagined it to extend
so far inland.

Two of those deep, narrow inlets, opening from opposite sides of the
cape which lay close to the islet above referred to, had approached so
close to each other at their upper extremities that they had at last
met, in consequence of the sea undermining and throwing down the cliff
that separated them. Thus the cape was in reality an island; and the two
united inlets formed a narrow strait, through which the Avenger passed
to her former anchorage by means of four pair of powerful sweeps or
oars. This secret passage was well known to the pirates; and it was with
a lurking feeling that it might some day prove of use to him, that
Gascoyne invariably anchored near it when he visited the island as a
sandal-wood trader.

During the transit, the carpenters of the schooner were not idle. The
red streak and flag and griffin's head were removed; the big gun was
covered with the long-boat, and the vessel which entered the one end of
the channel as the warlike Avenger issued from the other side as the
peaceful Foam; and, rowing to her former anchorage, dropped anchor. The
shattered jib-boom had been replaced by a spare one, and part of the
crew were stored away under the cargo, in an empty space of the hold
reserved for this special purpose, and for concealing arms. A few of
them were also landed, not far from the cliff over which poor Bumpus had
been thrown, with orders to remain concealed, and be ready to embark at
a moment's notice.

Soon after the schooner anchored, the boat which had been sent off in
search of the body of our unfortunate seaman returned, having failed to
discover the object for which it had been sent out.

The breeze had by this time died away almost entirely, so that three
hours elapsed before the Talisman rounded the point, stood into the bay,
and dropped anchor at a distance of about two miles from the suspected
schooner.

CHAPTER XV.

REMARKABLE DOINGS OF POOPY--EXTRAORDINARY CASE OF RESUSCITATION.

It is time now to return to our unfortunate friends, Corrie, Alice, and
Poopy, who have been left long enough exposed on the summit of the
cliff, from which they had expected to be tossed by the savages, when
the guns of the Talisman so opportunely saved them.

The reader will observe that these incidents, which have taken so long
to narrate, were enacted in a very brief space of time. Only a few hours
elapsed between the firing of the broadside already referred to and the
anchoring of the Talisman in the bay, where the Foam had cast anchor
some time before her; yet in this short space of time many things
occurred on the island which are worthy of particular notice.

As we have already remarked, Corrie and his two companions in misfortune
had been bound, and in this condition were left by the savages to their
fate. Their respective positions were by no means enviable. Poor Alice
lay near the edge of the cliff, with her wrists and ankles so securely
tied that no effort of which she was capable could set her free. Poopy
lay about ten yards further up the cliff, flat on her sable back, with
her hands tied behind her, and her ankles also secured; so that she
could by no means attain to a sitting position, although she made
violent and extraordinary efforts to do so. We say extraordinary,
because Poopy, being ingenious, hit upon many devices of an unheard of
nature to accomplish her object. Among others, she attempted to turn
heels over head, hoping thus to get upon her knees; and there is no
doubt whatever that she would have succeeded in this had not the
formation of the ground been exceedingly unfavorable for such a
maneuver.

Corrie had shown such an amount of desperate vindictiveness, in the way
of kicking, hitting, biting, scratching, and pinching, when the savages
were securing him, that they gave him five or six extra coils of the
rope of cocoanut fiber with which they bound him. Consequently he could
not move any of his limbs; and now he lay on his side between Alice and
Poopy, gazing with much earnestness and no little astonishment at the
peculiar contortions of the latter.

"You'll never manage it, Poopy," he remarked, in a sad tone of voice, on
beholding the poor girl balanced on the small of her back, preparatory
to making a spring that might have reminded one of the leaps of a trout
when thrown from its native element upon the bank of a river. "And
you'll break your neck if you go on like that," he added, on observing
that, having failed in these attempts, she recurred to the
heels-over-head process; but all in vain.

"O me!" sighed Poopy, as she fell back in a fit of exhaustion. "It's be
all hup wid us."

"Don't say that, you goose," whispered Corrie; "you'll frighten Alice,
you will."

"Will me?" whispered Poopy, in a tone of self-reproach; then in a loud
voice, "Oh, no! it's not all hup yet. Miss Alice. See, me go at it
again."

And "go at it" she did in a way that actually alarmed her companions. At
any other time Corrie would have exploded with laughter, but the poor
boy was thoroughly overwhelmed by the suddenness and the extent of his
misfortune. The image of Bumpus, disappearing headlong over that
terrible cliff, had filled his heart with a feeling of horror which
nothing could allay, and grave thoughts at the desperate case of poor
little Alice (for he neither thought of nor cared for Poopy or himself)
sank like a weight of lead upon his spirit.

"Don't try it any more, dear Poopy," said Alice, entreatingly; "you'll
only hurt yourself and tear your frock. I feel _sure_ that some one will
be sent to deliver us. Don't _you_, Corrie?"

The tone in which this question was put showed that the poor child did
not feel quite so certain of the arrival of succor as her words implied.
Corrie perceived this at once, and, with the heroism of a true lover, he
crushed back the feelings of anxiety and alarm which were creeping over
his own stout little heart in spite of his brave words, and gave
utterance to encouraging expressions and even to slightly jovial
sentiments, which tended very much to comfort Alice, and Poopy too.

"Sure?" he exclaimed, rolling on his other side to obtain a view of the
child (for, owing to his position and his fettered condition, he had to
turn on his right side when he wished to look at Poopy, and on his left
when he addressed himself to Alice). "Sure? why, of course I'm sure.
D'ye think your father would leave you lying out in the cold all night?"

"No, that I am certain he would not," cried Alice, enthusiastically;
"but, then, he does not know we are here, and will never think of
looking for us in such an unlikely place."

"Humph! that only shows your ignorance," said Corrie.

"Well, I dare say I _am_ very ignorant," replied Alice, meekly.

"No, no! I don't mean _that_," cried Corrie, with a feeling of
self-reproach. "I don't mean to say that you're ignorant in a general
way, you know, but only about what men are likely to do, d'ye see, when
they're hard put to it, you understand. _Our_ feelings are so different
from yours, you know, and--and--"

Here Corrie broke down, and in order to change the subject abruptly he
rolled round towards Poopy, and cried, with considerable asperity:

"What on earth d'ye mean, Kickup, by wriggling about your black body in
that fashion? If you don't stop it you'll fetch way down the hill, and
go slap over the precipice, carrying Alice and me along with you. Give
it up now; d'ye hear?"

"No, me won't," cried Poopy, with great passion, while tears sprang from
her large eyes, and coursed over her sable cheeks. "Me _will_ bu'st dem
ropes."

"More likely to do that to yourself if you go on like that," returned
Corrie. "But, I say, Alice, cheer up" (here he rolled round on his other
side); "I've been pondering a plan all this time to set us free, and now
I'm going to try it. The only bother about it is that these rascally
savages have dropped me beside a pool of half soft mud that I can't help
sticking my head into if I try to move."

"Oh! then, don't move, dear Corrie," said Alice, in an imploring tone of
voice; "we can lie here quite comfortably till papa comes."

"Ah! yes," said Corrie, "that reminds me that I was saying we men feel
and act so differently from you women. Now it strikes me that your
father will go to all the most _unlikely_ parts of the island first;
knowin' very well that niggers don't hide in _likely_ places. But as it
may be a long time before he finds us" (he sighed deeply here, not
feeling much confidence in the success of the missionary's search), "I
shall tell you my plan, and then try to carry it out." (Here he sighed
again, more deeply than before; not feeling by any means confident of
the success of his own efforts.)

"And what is your plan?" inquired Alice, eagerly; for the child had
unbounded belief in Corrie's ability to do almost anything he chose to
attempt, and Corrie knew this, and was proud as a peacock in
consequence.

"I'll get up on my knees," said he, "and then, once on them, I can
easily rise to my feet and hop to you, and free you."

On this explanation of his elaborate and difficult plan Alice made no
observation for some time, because, even to _her_ faculties (which were
obtuse enough on mechanical matters), it was abundantly evident that,
the boy's hands being tied firmly behind his back, he could neither cut
the ropes that bound her, nor untie them.

"What d'ye think, Alice?"

"I fear it won't do; your hands are tied, Corrie."

"Oh! that's nothing. The only difficulty is how to get on my knees."

"Surely that cannot be _very_ difficult, when you talk of getting on
your feet."

"Ha! that shows you're a--I mean, d'ye see, that the difficulty lies
here; my elbows are lashed so fast to my side that I can't use them to
prop me up; but if Poopy will roll down the hill to my side, and shove
her pretty shoulder under my back when I raise it, perhaps I may succeed
in getting up. What say you, Kickup?"

"Hee! Hee!" laughed the girl, "dat's fuss rate. Look out!"

Poopy, although sluggish by nature, was rather abrupt and violent in her
impulses at times. Without further warning than the above brief
exclamation, she rolled herself towards Corrie with such good-will that
she went quite over him, and would certainly have passed onward to where
Alice lay--perhaps over the cliff altogether--had not the boy caught her
sleeve with his teeth, and held her fast.

The plan was eminently successful. By a series of jerks on the part of
Corrie, and proppings on the part of Poopy, the former was enabled to
attain a kneeling position, not, however, without a few failures, in one
of which he fell forward on his face, and left a deep impression of his
fat little nose in the mud.

Having risen to his feet, Corrie at once hopped towards Alice, after the
fashion of those country wights who indulge in sack races, and, going
down on his knees beside her, began diligently to gnaw the rope that
bound her with his teeth. This was by no means an easy or a quick
process. He gnawed and bit at it long before the tough rope gave way. At
length Alice was freed, and she immediately set to work to undo the
fastenings of the other two; but her delicate fingers were not well
suited to such rough work, and a considerable time elapsed before the
three were finally at large.

The instant they were so, Corrie said, "Now we must go down to the foot
of the cliff, and look for poor Bumpus. Oh, dear me! I doubt he is
killed."

The look of horror which all three cast over the stupendous precipice
showed that they had little hope of ever again seeing their rugged
friend alive. But, without wasting time in idle remarks, they at once
hastened to the foot of the cliff by the shortest route they could find.
Here, after a short time, they discovered the object of their solicitude
lying, apparently dead, on his back among the rocks.

When Bumpus struck the water, after being tossed over the cliff, his
head was fortunately downward; and his skull, being the thickest and
hardest bone in his body, had withstood the terrible shock to which it
had been subjected without damage, though the brain within was, for a
time, incapacitated from doing duty. When John rose again to the
surface, after a descent into unfathomable water, he floated there in a
state of insensibility. Fortunately the wind and tide combined to wash
him to the shore, where a higher swell than usual launched him among the
coral rocks, and left him there, with only his feet in the water.

"Oh! here he is,--hurrah!" shouted Corrie, on catching sight of the
prostrate form of the seaman. But the boy's manner changed the instant
he observed the color of the man's face, from which all the blood had
been driven, leaving it like a piece of brown leather.

"He's dead," said Alice, wringing her hands in despair.

"P'raps not," suggested Poopy, with a look of deep wisdom, as she gazed
on the upturned face.

"Anyhow, we must haul him out of the water," said Corrie, whose chest
heaved with the effort he made to repress his tears.

Catching up one of Bumpus's huge hands, the boy ordered Alice to grasp
the other. Poopy, without waiting for orders, seized hold of the hair of
his head, and all three began to haul with might and main. But they
might as well have tried to pull a line-of-battle ship up on the shore.
The man's bulky form was immovable. Seeing this, they changed their
plan, and, all three grasping his legs, slewed him partially round, and
thus drew his feet out of the water.

"Now we must warm him," said Corrie, eagerly; for, the first shock of
the discovery of the supposed dead body of his friend being over, the
sanguine boy began to entertain hopes of resuscitating him. "I've heard
that the best thing for drowned people is to warm them: so, Alice, do
you take one hand and arm, Poopy will take the other, and I will take
his feet, and we'll all rub away till we bring him to; for we must, we
_shall_ bring him round."

Corrie said this with a fierce look and a hysterical sob. Without more
words he drew out his clasp-knife, and, ripping up the cuffs of the
man's coat, laid bare his muscular arm. Meanwhile Alice untied his
neckcloth, and Poopy tore open his Guernsey frock and exposed his broad,
brown chest.

"We must warm that at once," said Corrie, beginning to take off his
jacket, which he meant to spread over the seaman's breast.

"Stay! my petticoat is warmer," cried Alice, hastily divesting herself
of a flannel garment of bright scarlet, the brilliant beauty of which
had long been the admiration of the entire population of Sandy Cove. The
child spread it over the seaman's chest, and tucked it carefully down
at his sides, between his body and the wet garments. Then the three sat
down beside him, and, each seizing a limb, began to rub and chafe with a
degree of energy that nothing could resist. At any rate it put life into
John Bumpus; for that hardy mariner gradually began to exhibit signs of
returning vitality.

"There he comes!" cried Come, eagerly.

"Eh!" exclaimed Poopy, in alarm.

"Who? where?" inquired Alice, who thought that the boy referred to some
one who had unexpectedly appeared on the scene.

"I saw him wink with his left eye,--look!"

All three suspended their labor of love, and, stretching forward their
heads, gazed, with breathless anxiety, at the clay-colored face of Jo.

"I must have been mistaken," said Corrie, shaking his head.

"Go at him agin," cried Poopy, recommencing her work on the right arm
with so much energy that it seemed marvelous how she escaped skinning
that limb from fingers to shoulder.

Poor Alice did her best, but her soft little hands had not much effect
on the huge mass of brown flesh they manipulated.

"There he comes again!" shouted Corrie.

Once more there was an abrupt pause in the process, and the three heads
were bent eagerly forward watching for symptoms of returning life.
Corrie was right. The seaman's left eye quivered for a moment, causing
the hearts of the three children to beat high with hope. Presently the
other eye also quivered; then the broad chest rose almost imperceptibly,
and a faint sigh came feebly and broken from the cold blue lips.

To say that the three children were delighted at this would be to give
but a feeble idea of the state of their feelings. Corrie had, even in
the short time yet afforded him of knowing Bumpus, entertained for him
feelings of the deepest admiration and love. Alice and Poopy, out of
sheer sympathy, had fallen in love with him too, at first sight; so that
his horrible death (as they had supposed), coupled with his unexpected
restoration and revival through their united exertions, drew them still
closer to him, and created within them a sort of feeling that he must,
in common reason and justice, regard himself as their special property
in all future time. When, therefore, they saw him wink, and heard him
sigh, the gush of emotion that filled their respective bosoms was quite
overpowering. Corrie gasped in his effort not to break down; Alice wept
with silent joy as she continued to chafe the man's limbs; and Poopy
went off into a violent fit of hysterical laughter, in which her "hee,
hees" resounded with terrible shrillness among the surrounding cliffs.

"Now, then, let's to work again with a will," said Corrie. "What d'ye
say to try punching him?"

This question he put gravely, and with the uncertain air of a man who
feels that he is treading on new and possibly dangerous ground.

"What is punching?" inquired Alice.

"Why, _that_," replied the boy, giving a practical and by no means
gentle illustration on his own fat thigh.

"Wouldn't it hurt him?" said Alice, dubiously.

"Hurt him! hurt the Grampus!" cried Corrie, with a look of surprise;
"you might as well talk of hurting a hippopotamus. Come, I'll try."

Accordingly, Corrie tried. He began to bake the seaman, as it were, with
his fists. As the process went on he warmed to the work, and did it so
energetically, in his mingled anxiety and hope, that it assumed the
character of hitting rather than punching--to the dismay of Alice, who
thought it impossible that any human being could stand such dreadful
treatment.

Whether it was owing to this process, or to the action of nature, or to
the combined efforts of nature and his friends, that Bumpus owed his
recovery, we cannot pretend to say; but certain it is, that, on Corrie's
making a severer dab than usual into the pit of the seaman's stomach, he
gave a gasp and a sneeze, the latter of which almost overturned Poopy,
who chanced to be gazing wildly into his countenance at the moment. At
the same time he involuntarily threw up his right arm, and fetched
Corrie such a tremendous backhander on the chest that our young hero was
laid flat on his back, half stunned by the violence of the fall, yet
shouting with delight that his rugged friend still lived to strike
another blow.

Having achieved this easy though unintentional victory, Bumpus sighed
again, shook his legs in the air, and sat up, gazing before him with a
bewildered air, and gasping from time to time in a quiet way.

"Wot's to do?" were the first words with which the restored seaman
greeted his friends.

"Hurrah!" screamed Corrie, his visage blazing with delight, as he danced
in front of him.

"Werry good," said Bumpus, whose intellect was not yet thoroughly
restored; "try it again."

"Oh, how cold your cheeks are!" said Alice, placing her hands on them,
and chafing them gently; then, perceiving that she did not communicate
much warmth in that way, she placed her own fair, soft cheek against
that of the sailor. Suddenly throwing both arms round his neck, she
hugged him, and burst into tears.

Bumpus was somewhat taken aback by this unexpected explosion; but, being
an affectionate man as well as a rugged one, he had no objection
whatever to the peculiar treatment. He allowed the child to sob on his
neck as long as she chose, while Corrie stood by, with his hands in his
pockets, sailor-fashion, and looked on admiringly. As for Poopy, she sat
down on a rock a short way off, and began to smile and talk to herself
in a manner so utterly idiotical that an ignorant observer would
certainly have judged her to be insane.

They were thus agreeably employed, when an event occurred which changed
the current of their thoughts, and led to consequences of a somewhat
serious nature. The event, however, was in itself insignificant. It was
nothing more than the sudden appearance of a wild pig among the bushes
close at hand.

CHAPTER XVI.

A WILD CHASE--HOPE, DISAPPOINTMENT, AND DESPAIR--THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADER
OUTWITS THE MAN-OF-WAR.

When the wild pig, referred to in the last chapter, was first observed,
it was standing on the margin of a thicket, from which it had just
issued, gazing, with the profoundly philosophical aspect peculiar to
that animal, at our four friends, and seeming to entertain doubts as to
the propriety of beating an immediate retreat.

Before it had made up its mind on this point, Corrie's eye alighted on
it.

"Hist!" exclaimed he with a gesture of caution to his companions. "Look
there! We've had nothing to eat for an awful time,--nothing since
breakfast on Sunday morning. I feel as if my interior had been
amputated. Oh, what a jolly roast that fellow would make if we could
only kill him!"

"Wot's in the pistol?" inquired Bumpus, pointing to the weapon which
Corrie had stuck ostentatiously into his belt.

"Nothin'," answered the boy. "I fired the last charge in the face of a
savage."

"Fling it at him," suggested Bumpus, getting cautiously up. "Here, hand
it to me. I've seed a heavy horse-pistol like that do great execution
when well aimed by a stout arm."

The pig seemed to have an intuitive perception that danger was
approaching; for it turned abruptly round just as the missile left the
seaman's hand, and received the butt with full force close to the root
of its tail.

A pig's tendency to shriek on the receipt of the slightest injury is
well known. It is therefore not to be wondered at that this pig went off
into the bushes under cover of a series of yells so terrific they might
have been heard for miles around.

"I'll after him," cried Bumpus, catching up a large stone, and leaping
forward a few paces almost as actively as if nothing had happened to
him.

"Hurrah!" shouted Corrie; "I'll go too."

"Hold on," cried Bumpus, stopping suddenly.

"Why?" inquired the boy.

"'Cause you must stop an' take care of the gals. It won't do to leave
'em alone again, you know, Corrie."

This remark was accompanied with an exceedingly huge wink, full of deep
meaning, which Corrie found it convenient not to notice, as he observed
gravely:

"Ah! true. One of us _must_ remain with 'em, poor, helpless things;
so--so _you_ had better go after the squeaker."

"All right," said Bumpus, with a broad grin--"Hallo! why, here's a
spear, that must ha' been dropped by one o' them savages. That's a piece
o' good luck, anyhow, as the man said when he f'und the fi' pun' note.
Now, then, keep an eye on them gals, lad, and I'll be back as soon as
ever I can; though I does feel rather stiffish. My old timbers ain't
used to such deep divin', d'ye see."

Bumpus entered the thicket as he spoke, and Corrie returned to console
the girls with the feeling and the air of a man whose bosom is filled
with a stern resolve to die, if need be, in the discharge of an
important duty.

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