The Burning Bridge, Philip Verrill Mighels [the lemonade war series .txt] 📗

and compel their attendance on their chief. His gestures and those of the leader, as they thus conversed in murmurs, were all towards the inlet where the boats were anchored or towards the distant hill.

He who had plainly been commanded to enter and search the wreck took advantage of the colloquy to linger with the group. It was not until the small and active demon of the lot had darted away to land more men that the chief once more turned his attention to the coward.

Whining his impotent excuses and expostulations, the fellow affrightedly climbed upon the deck and was ordered to explore the cabin. That he might be killed by the desperate white man possibly hiding in the vessel's hold, the chief was well aware. The sacrifice of a man more or less was unimportant—provided the quarry was thereby discovered in a hole where he could not escape.

This fact was fully appreciated by two other persons concerned. One of these persons was Grenville, the second the terrified native. This shivering wretch, who had known for years of the terrible guardian sitting in iron chains within, blundered noisily about in the upper quarters, so afraid he could have offered no defense to a child's attack.

Grenville was undecided as to what he were wiser to do. To sink his cleaver through the Dyak's skull would presently be comparatively simple. And, should absolutely silent death overtake this miserable slave of the man outside, the moral effect might be of value. It might be supposed by his companions he had died of fright alone. Yet Sidney argued that any fate whatsoever silencing the fellow now might be construed as proof of his own presence in the wreck.

Instantly deciding that, once they concluded he was not here, the Dyaks would leave and permit his escape, Grenville silently crept to the open door beside the dead man held in chains, slipped behind the rotted old partition, and, without a sound, replaced the door almost as he had originally found it.

The chief had meantime approached the barque, to order his man to the hold. To the musty cabin where "Buli" sat, the fellow was forced to stumble. Some report he quavered in accents of terror was not received with favor, and a new command was issued.

Grenville made ready to drop the man, should he dare push open the door. He was certain the craven had been ordered to this fatal exploration. But, instead, the whining demon lighted a match, to reveal all the contents of the place.

By the yellow light both this fellow and the leader, peering through the side, met the vacant stare of "Buli's" eyes—and both were frightened to utterance. The chief's brief note was a rigmarole of charm, to avert the evil eye. His slave's shrill performance was a scream, as the fellow reeled back, stumbling blindly away and falling as he went.

The pistol he carried was discharged. The fellow was wounded in the hip. His groans, as he dragged himself out on the deck, were drowned by the curses of the leader.

This dominant brute, having noticed the door where Sidney stood concealed, now ordered the second of his men to explore where the first had failed. As Grenville once more looked out through a ragged hole to observe the proceedings, this second fellow began a somewhat stouter objection than his predecessor had done, but was even more promptly cowed or persuaded to submission.

Meanwhile, the cries of a horde of Dyaks from the boats arose from the jungle below. They had evidently landed with considerable willingness of spirit, as Grenville was thoroughly aware. He thought of Elaine with a sudden sinking of the vitals. No sooner had the second of the natives started to mount to the deck, where number one still lay groaning, than a wild idea shot into Sidney's mind. At any cost, he must make one dash for the hill.

He quietly slipped to the cabin again, where "Buli" had long been captain and crew of the barque. The one brief glance he bestowed, through the hole, on the leader of the murderous demons, now hastening to the place, showed that ingenious savage standing perhaps a rod away and calling to the on-coming crews.

The fellow on deck was making sufficient noise to mask a fair disturbance in the cabin. Taking instant advantage of this fact, Grenville groped downward with his hands—and encountered "Buli" promptly.

"I need your services, brother," he murmured, grimly, and, finding the chain that shackled the sitting skeleton, he placed one foot upon its upper end and tore the staple entirely out of the rotten wood it pierced.

Bodily lifting the mummified thing in his arms, he hastened forward, to the hole that he alone had dared to utilize, broken through the decaying hulk, where he passed first his burden and then himself between the ancient ribs.

A cry had been sounded from within the barque. The chief of the Dyaks suddenly turned and rushed, knife in hand, upon the man he beheld escaping from the hold.

Grenville waited for him, deliberately. Just as the fellow lunged actively forward, Sidney thrust the hideous effigy of a human being into the arms and against the face of his wildly stabbing assailant and nimbly leaped towards the trail.

A sound of horror broke from the Dyak's lips as he rolled on the earth with the skeleton rattling down upon him. But a brief time only was he prostrate there with his terror. Uttering screams as shrill as a woman's and darting swiftly to meet his crew of men, who suddenly swarmed from the thicket, he headed a wild, fanatic pursuit where Grenville was speeding for the terrace.

CHAPTER XXXIII THE GIRL BEHIND THE GUN

Alone on the hill, and already strung to the highest tension of dread by Grenville's long absence, after what he had said of a prompt return, Elaine had been struck with alarm to the core of her being, as the various sounds came clearly up from the jungle about the disintegrated wreck.

It was fears for Sidney, not for herself, that had finally possessed her fluttering heart as the muffled shot and subsequent cries floated uncertainly from down there in the darkness. She knew that Grenville had no gun, and was, therefore, certain it was he who must have suffered a wound.

With a blazing torch she had run to the edge of the terrace, to light Sidney home, if, by any bare chance, he had escaped. She was there, transfixed by apprehension, when at length, with cries like a pack of wolves, the Dyaks came racing towards the clearing.

Meantime Grenville had gained a considerable lead of the devils on his heels, and, on passing the spring, had caught a glimpse of Elaine with her brand of fire. He paused for a second to shout essential directions, lest she might have forgotten in her plight.

"Don't fire, Elaine, till you see them on the trail!"

With that he darted abruptly to the left, for the animal trail that would lead him to his ladder. He had no more than gained it when, with a chorus of demoniac yells and screams of triumph, the straggling pursuers broke madly into the clearing and darted across it for the trail.

Even then, afraid that Elaine might fail to perform her allotted task, Grenville sped up his ladder like a creature of the wild, and came to the end of his platform.

The Dyaks were immediately storming the barrier, the breach of which was promptly discovered, and Sidney's alarm was jerkily resounding.

Like a spirit of maternity, nerved to any ordeal by the sense of protecting one she loved, Elaine crouched low beside the cannon, her dilated eyes intent upon the trail. She had clung to a hope that Grenville might yet appear in time to take charge of the gun. But suddenly now, to her terror, four or more figures darkly appeared on the ledge above the gate, coming swiftly towards her position.

She thrust the torch desperately down upon the fuse, saw the powder spew out a shower of sparks, and rolled and tumbled hotly from the place.

She was suddenly agonized by the thought that the thing would fail, but Grenville had barely reached the solid rock when the cannon abruptly thundered.

A wide-spreading cataract of fire was projected in a red-and-yellow cone across the space between the brink and the wall behind the trail, as the powder poured its punishment into the ranks of the creatures leaping upward to destruction. The detonation, sharp, crisp, appallingly loud in the stillness of the island, fairly stunned Elaine, now kneeling helplessly among the rocks.

Shrieks of dismay and sudden agony immediately succeeded the explosion, while its echoes still rattled wildly back from the distant hills of rock. In the utter darkness, by contrast following the one brief glare, there was nothing to be seen along the path. But wounded men were staggering downward, in blind retreat, already abandoned by their unscathed companions, in flight below the gate.

Grenville had run to his store of bombs, instead of coming straight to the gun. He meant to be prepared against a second attack. As his active figure now appeared where he hastened brinkward, watching both trail and clearing, Elaine beheld him at last. She arose and stumbled towards him, her feet still heavy with her dread, her heart wildly leaping in joy.

"Were you shot?" she cried. "Are you hurt?"

"No, right as a fiddler!" he assured her, quickly, glancing down at the shadowy path. "I only wish I could bait them again and lead the remainder to the gun!"

He charged the piece at once, having brought for the purpose a bamboo canister of powder, open and heaping at the end. This he thrust complete down the muzzle of the cannon, to be rammed home with dozens of his slugs.

Cries still arose from the jungle, more faintly, now, as the Dyaks retreated down the island. Excitement still rang in the air. Neither Grenville nor Elaine felt certain the attack would not be renewed. There was something dark that Sidney could see, crawling painfully down the incline of the trail, assisting something more inert. He purposely shielded Elaine from the sight, lest she understand too well. He much preferred that the Dyaks recover their possible slain from about the place.

Elaine was still too tensely wrought for reaction. She could hardly understand how the situation had been changed so abruptly from attack into utter rout. Her ears were still ringing from the cannon's deafening roar. She had taken no time to comprehend the results of what she had accomplished.

"How shall we know if they do come back?" she questioned, excitedly. "They probably broke the alarm."

"I'll repair it soon. Did it ring? But, of course, you couldn't have taken time to hear. Did you understand me when I shouted?"

"I heard it, horribly shaken," said Elaine. "I heard so many awful noises. I heard you call, of course. But, perhaps, I didn't wait long enough, after all. I don't seem to remember. I waited as long as I could. I hope I only frightened them away!" She sat down, overtaken at last by weakness in her limbs.

The torch she had used had fallen from her hand. It barely smoldered on the rocks. Grenville extinguished it completely, then continued to prime the cannon as before, with powder sprinkled on the vent, and a fuse laid for several feet along the ledge. He was glad to note the little piece had been securely held in place upon its log by its wrappings and the weight of heavy stones.

"I'll go down and examine the gate," he said, aware that, though the Dyaks had undoubtedly suffered severely, a still attack might yet be attempted in the dark. Therefore, leaving Elaine to recover as best she might, he was soon moving cautiously along the narrow ledge.

The night had precipitated war. That he and Elaine would be called upon to endure war's customary hazards, hardships, and horrors he was grimly ready to concede. She had made an amazingly