The Castaways of the Flag Page 13

  But then the question of food was resolved by a stroke of luck.

  About eleven o'clock, Fritz, walking in front, made a sign for everyone to stop at the edge of a little clearing crossed by a narrow stream, on the bank of which an animal was quenching its thirst.

  It was an antelope, and it meant wholesome and refreshing meat if only they could contrive to capture it somehow!

  The simplest plan seemed to be to make a ring around the clearing, without allowing themselves to be seen, and directly the antelope attempted to break out, to stop its way, regardless of danger from its horns, overpower, and kill it.

  The difficulty was to carry through this operation without alarming an animal whose sight is so keen, hearing so sharp, and scent so delicate.

  "While Jenny and Susan and Dolly and Bob halted behind a bush, Fritz, Frank, James, Captain Gould, and the boatswain, armed only with their pocket knives, began to work round the clearing, keeping well under cover in the thickets.

  The antelope went on drinking at the stream, showing no signs of uneasiness, until Fritz got up sharply and uttered a loud shout.

  At once the animal sprang up, stretched out its neck, and jumped towards the brake, which it could have cleared in a single leap.

  It made for the side where Frank and John Block were standing, each with knife in hand.

  The beast sprang, but took off badly, fell back, bowled the boatswain over, and struggled to rise.

  Then up came Fritz, and throwing himself upon the animal, succeeded in driving his knife into its flank. But this one blow would not have been sufficient if Captain Gould had not succeeded in cutting its throat.

  The animal lay motionless among the branches, and the boatswain got up nimbly.

  "Confounded brute!" exclaimed John Block, who had escaped with a few bruises. "I've shipped more than one heavy sea in my time, but never been bowled over like that!"

  "I hope you are not much hurt, Block?" Captain Gould asked.

  "No: only scratched, and that don't matter, captain. What annoys me is to have been turned upside down like that."

  "Well, to make up for it we will keep the best bit for you," Jenny answered.

  "No, Mrs. Fritz, no! no! I would rather have the bit that pitched me on to the ground. That was its head. I want that animal's head I''

  They set to work to cut up the antelope and take out the edible parts. Since they were now assured of food to last them until the evening of the following day, there would be no need for them to trouble further about it before they got to the defile of Cluse.

  Fritz and Frank were no novices where the preparation of game was concerned. Had they not studied it in theory and in practice in twelve years' hunting among the grass-lands and woods of the Promised Land? Nor was the boatswain clumsy over the job. He seemed to derive real revengeful pleasure in skinning the animal. Within a quarter of an hour the haunches, cutlets, and other savoury portions were ready to be grilled over the embers.

  As it was nearly noon, it seemed best to camp in the clearing, where the stream would furnish clear, fresh water. Captain Gould and James lighted a wood fire at the foot of a mangrove. Then Fritz placed the best bits of the antelope over the glowing embers and left Susan and Dolly to superintend the cooking.

  By a lucky chance Jenny had just found a quantity of roots such as can be roasted in the ashes. They were of a kind to satisfy hungry stomachs, and would agreeably complete the bill of fare for luncheon.

  No flesh is more delicate than that of the antelope, which is both fragrant and tender, and everybody agreed that this was a real treat.

  "How good it is," John Block exclaimed, "to eat real meat which has walked in its lifetime, and not crawled clumsily over the ground!"

  "We won't cry down turtles," Captain Gould replied; "not even to sing the praises of antelope."

  "The captain is right,'' said Jenny. "Without those excellent creatures, which have fed us ever since we got to the island, what would have become of us? "

  "Then here's luck to turtles!" cried the boatswain. "But give me another chop."

  When this refreshing meal was finished, they set out once more. They had no time to lose if the afternoon stage was to complete the ten miles planned for the day.

  If Fritz and Frank had been alone, they would have paid no heed to fatigue. They would have marched all night and made but a single stage of the whole journey to the defile. They may have had the idea now, and it was certainly very tempting, for they could have got to Rock Castle in the afternoon of the following day. But they did not venture to suggest going on ahead.

  Besides, think of the happiness of all arriving together at their much-desired goal, to throw themselves into the arms of the relations and friends who had been waiting so long for them, who might have lost all hope of ever seeing them again!

  The second stage was done under the same conditions as the first, in order to husband the strength of Jenny and Dolly and Susan Wolston.

  No incident occurred, and about four o'clock in the afternoon the edge of the forest was reached.

  A fertile champaign extended beyond. Its vegetation was entirely due to the productivity of the soil, verdant grass-lands and woods or clumps of trees studding the country right up to the entrance to the Green Valley.

  A few herds of stags and deer passed in the distance, but there was no question of hunting them. Numerous flocks of ostriches were also seen, reminding Fritz and Frank of their expedition to the country near the Arabian Watch-tower.

  Several elephants appeared as well. They moved quietly through the thick woods, and one could imagine the longing eyes with which Jack would have regarded them if he had been there!

  "While we have been away," Fritz said, "Jack may have succeeded in capturing an elephant, and taming and training it, as we did Storm and Grumbler and Lightfoot!"

  "It's quite possible, dear," Jenny answered. "After fourteen months' absence we must expect to find something new in New Switzerland."

  "Our second fatherland!" Frank said.

  "I am already picturing other houses there," Dolly exclaimed, "and other farms— perhaps a village even!"

  "Well," said the boatswain, "I could be quite content with what we see about us; and I can't imagine anything better in your island than we have here."

  "It is nothing compared with the Promised Land, Mr. Block," Dolly declared.

  "Nothing," Jenny agreed. "M. Zermatt gave it that Bible name because it deserved it, and we, more blest than the children of Israel, are about to set foot in the land of Canaan."

  And John Block admitted they were right.

  At six o 'clock they stopped for the night.

  There was little likelihood of change in the weather at this season, and the cold was not formidable. Indeed, they had suffered rather from heat during the day, in spite of the fact that they were in the shelter of the trees during the hottest hours. After that, a few isolated woods and copses had enabled them to walk in the shade without wandering too far from the direct route.

  Supper was prepared, as the earlier meal had been, before a crackling fire of dry wood. This night would not be spent within a cave, but, with fatigue to rock them, not one of them lay awake.

  As a matter of precaution, however, Fritz and Frank and the boatswain decided to keep alternate watch. When darkness fell, roaring could be heard in the far distance. There were wild beasts in this part of the island.

  Next morning a start was made at daybreak. They hoped to get through the defile of Cluse in the second stage of the journey, if they met with no obstacles on the way.

  There were no more hardships about the march to-day than there had been the day before. They went from wood to wood, so to speak, avoiding as much as possible the rays of the sun.

  After the mid-day meal, taken by the side of a fast-running river twenty to thirty yards in width, flowing towards the north, they merely had to go along the left bank.

  Neither Fritz nor Frank knew this river, since their expeditions ha
d never brought them into the heart of the island. They had no idea that it had already received a name, that it was called the Montrose, as they had no knowledge of the new name of Jean Zermatt peak, on whose summit the British flag was floating. What a pleasure it would be to Jenny to learn that this river bore the name of her family!

  After marching for an hour they left the Montrose, which bore off sharply to the east. Two hours later Fritz and Frank, who had taken the lead, set foot at length on country known to them.

  "The Green Valley!" they shouted, and saluted it with a cheer.

  It was the Green Valley, and now they only had to get to the rampart enclosing the Promised Land to be at the defile of Cluse.

  This time, no consideration, no hunger or fatigue, could have availed to hold back any of them. Following Fritz and Frank, they all hurried forward, although the path was steep. They seemed to be impelled forcibly towards the goal which they had despaired of ever attaining!

  Oh, if only by some extraordinary good luck M. Zermatt and Mr. Wolston might be at the hermitage at Eberfurt, and their families with them, as the custom was during the summer season!

  But that would have been too good to be true, as people say. Not even John Block dared to hope for it.

  The beams across the entrance were all in place, fixed firmly between interstices among the rocks so as to resist the efforts of even the most powerful animals.

  "That is our door!" Fritz cried.

  "Yes,'' said Jenny, "the door into the Promised Land where all our dear ones live!"

  They only had to remove one of the beams, a task which took but a few minutes.

  And then at last they were through the defile, and all had the feeling that they were entering their own home—home, which, only three days ago, they had supposed to be hundreds and hundreds of miles away!

  Fritz and Frank and John Block replaced the beam in its proper grooves so as to bar the way against wild beasts and pachyderms.

  About half-past seven night was falling with the suddenness peculiar to the tropics when Fritz and his companions reached the hermitage at Eberfurt.

  Nobody was at the farm, and, although they regretted this, there was no occasion for them to be surprised.

  The little villa was in perfect order. They opened all the doors and windows, and proceeded to make themselves comfortable for the ten hours or so they would stay.

  In accordance with M. Zermatt's practice, the house was quite ready for the reception of the two families, who visited it several times in the course of the year. The bedsteads were given to Jenny and Dolly, Susan and little Bob, and to Captain Gould. Dry grass spread on the floor of the out-house would be good enough for the others this last night before their return home.

  Moreover, Eberfurt was always provided with stores to last a week.

  So Jenny only had the trouble of opening large wicker hampers, to find preserves of various kinds, sago, cassava, or tapioca flour, and salted meat and fish. As for fruit—figs, mangoes, bananas, pears and apples—they only had to take a step to pick them from the trees, and only another to gather vegetables in the kitchen garden.

  Of course the kitchen and larder were properly equipped with all necessary utensils. Directly a good wood fire was crackling in the stove, the pot was set upon its tripod. Water was drawn from an off-shoot from the Eastern River, which supplied the reservoir belonging to the farm. And it was with special pleasure that Fritz and Frank were able to offer their guests glasses of palm wine drawn from the barrels in the cellar.

  "Ah-ha!" cried the boatswain. "We've been teetotallers a very long time."

  "Well, we will pledge you now, good old Block!" Fritz exclaimed.

  "As much as you like," the boatswain answered. "Nothing could be more pleasant than drinking one another's health in this excellent wine."

  "Let us drink then," said Frank, "to the happiness of seeing our parents and our friends again at Falconhurst or Rock Castle!"

  And, clinking glasses, they gave three cheers for the Zermatts and the Wolstons.

  "Seriously," John Block remarked, "there are plenty of inns in England and elsewhere which aren't nearly so good as this hermitage of Eberfurt."

  "Moreover, Block," Fritz answered, "here the entertainment is free!"

  When supper was finished all sought the repose of which they had such need after their long day's march.

  Every one of them slept until the sun rose next morning.

  CHAPTER XII - ENEMIES IN THE PROMISED LAND

  AT seven o'clock next morning, after breakfasting off the remains of supper and drinking a stirrup-cup of palm wine, Fritz and his companions left the hermitage at Eberfurt.

  They were all in haste, and intended to cover the seven and a half miles that lay between the farm and Falconhurst in less than three hours.

  "It is possible that our people may be settled now in their dwelling in the air," Fritz remarked.

  "If so, dear," said Jenny, "we shall have the joy of meeting them quite an hour sooner."

  "Provided they have not gone into summer quarters on Prospect Hill," Frank observed. "In that case we should be obliged to go back to False Hope Point."

  "Isn't that the cape from which M. Zermatt must watch for the Unicorn?" Captain Gould enquired.

  "That is the one, captain," Fritz replied; "and as the corvette must have completed her repairs, it will not be long before she reaches the island."

  "However that may be," the boatswain remarked, "the best thing we can do, in my opinion, is to start. If there is nobody at Falconhurst we will go to Rock Castle, and if there is nobody at Rock Castle we will go to Prospect Hill, or anywhere else. But let us get on the march!"

  Although there was no lack of kitchen utensils and gardening tools at the hermitage, Fritz had looked in vain for any sporting guns and ammunition. When his father and brothers came to the farm they brought their guns, but never left them there. However, there was nothing to be afraid of in crossing the Promised Land, since no wild beasts could get through the defile of Cluse.

  A cart road—and how often already had it been rolled by the waggon which the buffaloes and the onager drew!—ran between the cultivated fields, now in their full vegetation, and the woods in their full verdure. The sight of all this prosperity gladdened the eye. Captain Gould and the boatswain, and James and Susan Wolston, who saw this district for the first time, were amazed. Most certainly might colonists come here; it could support hundreds, the island as a whole could thousands!

  After marching for an hour and a half, Fritz stopped for a few moments, nearly midway between the hermitage of Eberfurt and Falconhurst, before a stream which he did not know existed in this part of the district.

  "That is something new," he said.

  "It certainly is," Jenny answered. "I do not remember any stream in this place."

  "It is more like a canal," Captain Gould remarked.

  "You are right, captain,'' said Fritz. "Mr. Wolston must have conceived the idea of drawing water from Jackal River to supply Swan Lake and keep it full during the hot weather, which would enable them to irrigate the land round Wood Grange."

  "Yes," Frank went on, "it must have been your father, Dolly, who had that notion and carried it out."

  "Oh!" said Dolly. "But I expect your brother Ernest had a finger in the pie!"

  "No doubt—our learned Ernest!" Fritz agreed.

  "And why not the intrepid Jack—and M. Zermatt too?" Captain Gould enquired.

  "Everybody, then," said Jenny, laughing.

  "Yes, every one of both the families, which now are really one," Fritz answered.

  The boatswain broke in, as was his way, with a very just remark:

  ''If those who cut this canal did well, those who threw a bridge across it deserve quite as much praise. So let us go over and march on!"

  They crossed the bridge and entered into the more thickly wooded district, where rose the little stream that ran out near Falconhurst, just below Whale Island.

  Fritz and F
rank listened intently, trying to catch some distant sound of barking or of guns. What was Jack, the enthusiastic sportsman, about, that he was not hunting this fine morning? Game was rising in every direction, scampering away through the brakes and scattering from tree to tree. If the two brothers had had guns, they could have let fly with both barrels over and over again. It seemed to them that fur and feather had never been more plentiful in the district, so plentiful that their companions were genuinely astonished by it.