The Wings of the Morning Page 7

  CHAPTER VII

  SURPRISES

  Before night closed their third day on the island Jenks managed toconstruct a roomy tent-house, with a framework of sturdy trees selectedon account of their location. To these he nailed or tied crossbeams offelled saplings; and the tarpaulins dragged from the beach suppliedroof and walls. It required the united strength of Iris and himself tohaul into position the heavy sheet that topped the structure, whilst hewas compelled to desist from active building operations in order tofashion a rough ladder. Without some such contrivance he could not getthe topmost supports adjusted at a sufficient height.

  Although the edifice required at least two more days of hard workbefore it would be fit for habitation Iris wished to take up herquarters there immediately. This the sailor would not hear of.

  "In the cave," he said, "you are absolutely sheltered from all thewinds that blow or rain that falls. Our villa, however, is painfullyleaky and draughty at present. When asleep, the whole body is relaxed,and you are then most open to the attacks of cold or fever, in whichcase, Miss Deane, I shall be reluctantly obliged to dose you with aconcoction of that tree there."

  He pointed to a neighboring cinchona, and Iris naturally asked why heselected that particular brand.

  "Because it is quinine, not made up in nice little tabloids, but _aunaturel_. It will not be a bad plan if we prepare a strong infusion,and take a small quantity every morning on the excellent principle thatprevention is better than cure."

  The girl laughed.

  "Good gracious!" she said; "that reminds me--"

  But the words died away on her lips in sudden fright. They werestanding on the level plateau in front of the cave, well removed fromthe trees, and they could see distinctly on all sides, for the sun wassinking in a cloudless sky and the air was preternaturally clear, beingfree now from the tremulous haze of the hot hours.

  Across the smooth expanse of sandy ground came the agonized shrieks ofa startled bird--a large bird, it would seem--winging its way towardsthem with incredible swiftness, and uttering a succession of loudfull-voiced notes of alarm.

  Yet the strange thing was that not a bird was to be seen. At that hourthe ordinary feathered inhabitants of the island were quietly nestlingamong the branches preparatory to making a final selection of thenight's resting-place. None of them would stir unless actuallydisturbed.

  Iris drew near to the sailor. Involuntarily she caught his arm. Hestepped a half-pace in front of her to ward off any danger that mightbe heralded by this new and uncanny phenomenon. Together they strainedtheir eyes in the direction of the approaching sound, but apparentlytheir sight was bewitched; as nothing whatever was visible.

  "Oh, what is it?" wailed Iris, who now clung to Jenks in a state ofgreat apprehension.

  The clucking noise came nearer, passed them within a yard, and wasalready some distance away towards the reef when the sailor burst intoa hearty laugh, none the less genuine because of the relief it gave tohis bewildered senses.

  Reassured, but still white with fear, Iris cried: "Do speak, please,Mr. Jenks. What was it?"

  "A beetle!" he managed to gasp.

  "A beetle?"

  "Yes, a small, insignificant-looking fellow, too--so small that I didnot see him until he was almost out of range. He has the loudest voicefor his size in the whole of creation. A man able to shout on the samescale could easily make himself heard for twenty miles."

  "Then I do not like such beetles; I always hated them, but this latestvariety is positively detestable. Such nasty things ought to be kept inzoological gardens, and not turned loose. Moreover, my tea will beboiled into spinach."

  Nevertheless, the tea, though minus sugar or milk, was grateful enoughand particularly acceptable to the sailor, who entertained Iris with adisquisition on the many virtues of that marvelous beverage. Curiouslyenough, the lifting of the veil upon the man's earlier history madethese two much better friends. With more complete acquaintance therewas far less tendency towards certain passages which, under ordinaryconditions, could be construed as nothing else than downrightflirtation.

  They made the pleasing discovery that they could both sing. There washardly an opera in vogue that one or other did not know sufficientlywell to be able to recall the chief musical numbers. Iris had a sweetand sympathetic mezzo-soprano voice, Jenks an excellent baritone, and,to the secret amazement of the girl, he rendered one or two well-knownAnglo-Indian barrack-room ditties with much humor.

  This, then, was the _mise-en-scene_.

  Iris, seated in the broken saloon-chair, which the sailor had firmlywedged into the sand for her accommodation, was attired in aclose-fitting costume selected from the small store of garments sowisely preserved by Jenks. She wore a pair of clumsy men's bootsseveral sizes too large for her. Her hair was tied up in a gipsy knoton the back of her head, and the light of a cheerful log fire danced inher blue eyes.

  Jenks, unshaven and ragged, squatted tailor wise near her. Close athand, on two sides, the shaggy walls of rock rose in solemn grandeur.The neighboring trees, decked now in the sable livery of night, weredimly outlined against the deep misty blue of sea and sky or whollymerged in the shadow of the cliffs.

  They lost themselves in the peaceful influences of the hour.Shipwrecked, remote from human land, environed by dangers known or onlyconjectured, two solitary beings on a tiny island, thrown haphazardfrom the depths of the China Sea, this young couple, after passingunscathed through perils unknown even to the writers of melodrama,lifted up their voices in the sheer exuberance of good spirits andabounding vitality.

  The girl was specially attracted by "The Buffalo Battery," a rollickinglyric known to all Anglo-India from Peshawur to Tuticorin. The air isthe familiar one of the "Hen Convention," and the opening verse runs inthis wise:

  I love to hear the sepoy with his bold and martial tread, And the thud of the galloping cavalry re-echoes through my head. But sweeter far than any sound by mortal ever made Is the tramp of the Buffalo Battery a-going to parade. _Chorus_: For it's "Hainya! hainya! hainya! hainya!" Twist their tails and go. With a "Hathi! hathi! hathi!" ele-_phant_ and buffa_lo_, "Chow-chow, chow-chow, chow-chow, chow-chow," "Teri ma!" "Chel-lo!" Oh, that's the way they shout all day, and drive the buffalo.

  Iris would not be satisfied until she understood the meaning of theHindustani phrases, mastered the nasal pronunciation of "hainya,"and placed the artificial accent on _phant_ and _lo_ in thesecond line of the chorus.

  Jenks was concluding the last verse when there came, hurtling throughthe air, the weird cries of the singing beetle, returning, perchance,from successful foray on Palm-tree Rock. This second advent of theinsect put an end to the concert. Within a quarter of an hour they wereasleep.

  Thenceforth, for ten days, they labored unceasingly, starting work atdaybreak and stopping only when the light failed, finding the longhours of sunshine all too short for the manifold tasks demanded ofthem, yet thankful that the night brought rest. The sailor made out aprogramme to which he rigidly adhered. In the first place, he completedthe house, which had two compartments, an inner room in which Irisslept, and an outer, which served as a shelter for their meals andprovided a bedroom for the man.

  Then he constructed a gigantic sky-sign on Summit Rock, the smallcluster of boulders on top of the cliff. His chief difficulty was tohoist into place the tall poles he needed, and for this purpose he hadto again visit Palm-tree Rock in order to secure the pulley. Byexercising much ingenuity in devising shear-legs, he at last succeededin lifting the masts into their allotted receptacles, where they werefirmly secured. Finally he was able to swing into air, high above thetops of the neighboring trees, the loftiest of which he felled in orderto clear the view on all sides, the name of the ship _Sirdar_,fashioned in six-foot letters nailed and spliced together in sectionsand made from the timbers of that ill-fated vessel.

  Meanwhile he taught Iris how to weave a net out of the strands ofunraveled cordage. With this, weighted by bullets, he contriv
ed acasting-net and caught a lot of small fish in the lagoon. At first theywere unable to decide which varieties were edible, until a happyexpedient occurred to the girl.

  "The seabirds can tell us," she said. "Let us spread out our haul onthe sands and leave them. By observing those specimens seized by thebirds and those they reject we should not go far wrong."

  Though her reasoning was not infallible it certainly proved to be areliable guide in this instance. Among the fish selected by thefeathered connoisseurs they hit upon two species which most resembledwhiting and haddock, and these turned out to be very palatable andwholesome.

  Jenks knew a good deal of botany, and enough about birds todifferentiate between carnivorous species and those fit for human food,whilst the salt in their most fortunate supply of hams rendered theirmeals almost epicurean. Think of it, ye dwellers in cities, contentwith stale buns and leathery sandwiches when ye venture into the wildsof a railway refreshment-room, these two castaways, marooned by queerchance on a desert island, could sit down daily to a banquet ofvegetable soup, fish, a roast bird, ham boiled or fried, and a sagopudding, the whole washed down by cool spring water, or, should theneed arise, a draught of the best champagne!

  From the rusty rifles on the reef Jenks brought away the bayonets andsecured all the screws, bolts, and other small odds and ends whichmight be serviceable. From the barrels he built a handy grate tofacilitate Iris's cooking operations, and a careful search each morningamidst the ashes of any burnt wreckage accumulated a store of mostuseful nails.

  The pressing need for a safe yet accessible bathing place led him andthe girl to devote one afternoon to a complete survey of thecoast-line. By this time they had given names to all the chieflocalities. The northerly promontory was naturally christened NorthCape; the western, Europa Point; the portion of the reef between theirhabitation and Palm-tree Rock became Filey Brig; the other sectionNorth-west Reef. The flat sandy passage across the island, containingthe cave, house, and well, was named Prospect Park; and the extensivestretch of sand on the south-east, with its guard of broken reefs, wasat once dubbed Turtle Beach when Jenks discovered that an immensenumber of green turtles were paying their spring visit to the island tobury their eggs in the sand.

  The two began their tour of inspection by passing the scene of thefirst desperate struggle to escape from the clutch of the typhoon. Iriswould not be content until the sailor showed her the rock behind whichhe placed her for shelter whilst he searched for water. For a momentthe recollection of their unfortunate companions on board ship broughta lump into her throat and dimmed her eyes.

  "I remember them in my prayers every night," she confided to him. "Itseems so unutterably sad that they should be lost, whilst we are aliveand happy."

  The man distracted her attention by pointing out the embers of theirfirst fire. It was the only way to choke back the tumultuous feelingsthat suddenly stormed his heart. Happy! Yes, he had never before knownsuch happiness. How long would it last? High up on the cliff swung thesignal to anxious searchers of the sea that here would be found thesurvivors of the _Sirdar_. And then, when rescue came, when MissDeane became once more the daughter of a wealthy baronet, and he adisgraced and a nameless outcast--! He set his teeth and savagelystruck at a full cup of the pitcher-plant which had so providentiallyrelieved their killing thirst.

  "Oh, why did you do that?" pouted Iris. "Poor thing! it was a truefriend in need. I wish I could do something for it to make it the bestand leafiest plant of its kind on the island."

  "Very well!" he answered; "you can gratify your wish. A tinful of freshwater from the well, applied daily to its roots, will quickly achievethat end."

  The moroseness of his tone and manner surprised her. For once her quickintuition failed to divine the source of his irritation.

  "You give your advice ungraciously," she said, "but I will adopt itnevertheless."

  A harmless incident, a kindly and quite feminine resolve, yet big withfate for both of them.

  Jenks's unwonted ill-humor--for the passage of days had driven from hisface all its harshness, and from his tongue all its assumedbitterness--created a passing cloud until the physical exertion ofscrambling over the rocks to round the North Cape restored their normalrelations.

  A strong current raced by this point to the south-east, and tore awaythe outlying spur of the headland to such an extent that the sailor wasalmost inclined to choose the easier way through the trees. Yet hepersevered, and it may be confessed that the opportunities thusafforded of grasping the girl's arm, of placing a steadying hand on hershoulder, were dominant factors in determining his choice.

  At last they reached the south side, and here they at once foundthemselves in a delightfully secluded and tiny bay, sandy, tree-lined,sheltered on three sides by cliffs and rocks.

  "Oh," cried Iris, excitedly, "what a lovely spot! a perfect Smugglers'Cove."

  "Charming enough to look at," was the answering comment, "but open tothe sea. If you look at the smooth riband of water out there, you willperceive a passage through the reef. A great place for sharks, MissDeane, but no place for bathers."

  "Good gracious! I had forgotten the sharks. I suppose they must live,horrid as they are, but I don't want them to dine on me."

  The mention of such disagreeable adjuncts to life on the island nolonger terrified her. Thus do English new-comers to India pass the firstthree months' residence in the country in momentary terror of snakes,and the remaining thirty years in complete forgetfulness of them.

  They passed on. Whilst traversing the coral-strewn south beach, withits patches of white soft sand baking in the direct rays of the sun,Jenks perceived traces of the turtle which swarmed in the neighboringsea.

  "Delicious eggs and turtle soup!" he announced when Iris asked him whyhe was so intently studying certain marks on the sand, caused by thegreat sea-tortoise during their nocturnal visits to thebreeding-ground.

  "If they are green turtle," he continued, "we are in the lap of luxury.They lard the alderman and inspire the poet. When a ship comes to ourassistance I will persuade the captain to freight the vessel with themand make my fortune."

  "I suppose, under the circumstances, you were not a rich man, Mr.Jenks," said Iris, timidly.

  "I possess a wealthy bachelor uncle, who made me his heir and allowedme four hundred a year; so I was a sort of Croesus among Staff Corpsofficers. When the smash came he disowned me by cable. By selling myponies and my other belongings I was able to walk out of my quarterspenniless but free from debt."

  "And all through a deceitful woman!"

  "Yes."

  Iris peeped at him from under the brim of her sou'wester. He seemed tobe absurdly contented, so different was his tone in discussing anecessarily painful topic to the attitude he adopted during the attackon the pitcher-plant.

  She was puzzled, but ventured a further step.

  "Was she very bad to you, Mr. Jenks?"

  He stopped and laughed--actually roared at the suggestion.

  "Bad to me!" he repeated. "I had nothing to do with her. She washumbugging her husband, not me. Fool that I was, I could not mind myown business."

  So Mrs. Costobell was not flirting with the man who suffered on heraccount. It is a regrettable but true statement that Iris wouldwillingly have hugged Mrs. Costobell at that moment. She walked on airduring the next half-hour of golden silence, and Jenks did not remindher that they were passing the gruesome Valley of Death.

  Rounding Europa Point, the sailor's eyes were fixed on their immediatesurroundings, but Iris gazed dreamily ahead. Hence it was that she wasthe first to cry in amazement--

  "A boat! See, there! On the rocks!"

  There was no mistake. A ship's boat was perched high and dry on thenorth side of the cape. Even as they scrambled towards it Jenksunderstood how it had come there.

  When the _Sirdar_ parted amidships the after section fell backinto the depths beyond the reef, and this boat must have broken loosefrom its davits and been driven ashore here by the force of the w
esterncurrent.

  Was it intact? Could they escape? Was this ark stranded on the islandfor their benefit? If it were seaworthy, whither should they steer--tothose islands whose blue outlines were visible on the horizon?

  These and a hundred other questions coursed through his brain duringthe race over the rocks, but all such wild speculations were promptlysettled when they reached the craft, for the keel and the whole of thelower timbers were smashed into matchwood.

  But there were stores on board. Jenks remembered that Captain Ross'sforesight had secured the provisioning of all the ship's boats soonafter the first wild rush to steady the vessel after the propeller waslost. Masts, sails, oars, seats--all save two water-casks--had gone;but Jenks, with eager hands, unfastened the lockers, and here he founda good supply of tinned meats and biscuits. They had barely recoveredfrom the excitement of this find when the sailor noticed that behindthe rocks on which the craft was firmly lodged lay a small naturalbasin full of salt water, replenished and freshened by the spray ofevery gale, and completely shut off from all seaward access.

  It was not more than four feet deep, beautifully carpeted with sand,and secluded by rocks on all sides. Not the tiniest crab or fish was tobe seen. It provided an ideal bath.

  Iris was overjoyed. She pointed towards their habitation.

  "Mr. Jenks," she said, "I will be with you at tea-time."

  He gathered all the tins he was able to carry and strode off, enjoiningher to fire her revolver if for the slightest reason she wantedassistance, and giving a parting warning that if she delayed too longhe would come and shout to her.

  "I wonder," said the girl to herself, watching his retreating figure,"what he is afraid of. Surely by this time we have exhausted theunpleasant surprises of the island. Anyhow, now for a splash!"

  She was hardly in the water before she began to be afraid on account ofJenks. Suppose anything happened to him whilst she was thoughtlesslyenjoying herself here. So strongly did the thought possess her that shehurriedly dressed again and ran off to find him.

  He was engaged in fastening a number of bayonets transversely to a longpiece of timber.

  "What are you doing that for?" she asked.

  "Why did you return so soon? Did anything alarm you?"

  "I thought you might get into mischief," she confessed.

  "No. On the other hand, I am trying to make trouble for any unwelcomevisitors," he replied. "This is a _cheval de frise_, which Iintend to set up in front of our cave in case we are compelled todefend ourselves against an attack by savages. With this barring theway they cannot rush the position."

  She sighed. Rainbow Island was a wild spot after all. Did not thornsand briers grow very close to the gates of Eden?

  On the nineteenth day of their residence on the island the sailorclimbed, as was his invariable habit, to the Summit Rock whilst Irisprepared breakfast. At this early hour the horizon was clearly cut asthe rim of a sapphire. He examined the whole arc of the sea with hisglasses, but not a sail was in sight. According to his calculations,the growing anxiety as to the fate of the _Sirdar_ must long erethis have culminated in the dispatch from Hong Kong or Singapore of aspecial search vessel, whilst British warships in the China Sea wouldbe warned to keep a close lookout for any traces of the steamer, tovisit all islands on their route, and to question fishermen whom theyencountered. So help might come any day, or it might be long deferred.He could not pierce the future, and it was useless to vex his soul withquestionings as to what might happen next week. The great certainty ofthe hour was Iris--the blue-eyed, smiling divinity who had come intohis life--waiting for him down there beyond the trees, waiting towelcome him with a sweet-voiced greeting; and he knew, with a fiercedevouring joy, that her cheek would not pale nor her lip tremble whenhe announced that at least another sun must set before the expectedrelief reached them.

  He replaced the glasses in their case and dived into the wood, giving apassing thought to the fact that the wind, after blowing steadily fromthe south for nearly a week, had veered round to the north-east duringthe night. Did the change portend a storm? Well, they were now preparedfor all such eventualities, and he had not forgotten that theypossessed, among other treasures, a box of books for rainy days. And arainy day with Iris for company! What gale that ever blew could offersuch compensation for enforced idleness?

  The morning sped in uneventful work. Iris did not neglect her cherishedpitcher-plant. After luncheon it was her custom now to carry a dishfulof water to its apparently arid roots, and she rose to fulfil herself-imposed task.

  "Let me help you," said Jenks. "I am not very busy this afternoon."

  "No, thank you. I simply won't allow you to touch that shrub. The dearthing looks quite glad to see me. It drinks up the water as greedily asa thirsty animal."

  "Even a cabbage has a heart, Miss Deane."

  She laughed merrily. "I do believe you are offering me a compliment,"she said. "I must indeed have found favor in your eyes."

  He had schooled himself to resist the opening given by this class ofretort, so he turned to make some corrections in the scale of thesun-dial he had constructed, aided therein by daily observations withthe sextant left by the former inhabitant of the cave.

  Iris had been gone perhaps five minutes when he heard a distant shriek,twice repeated, and then there came faintly to his ears his own name,not "Jenks," but "Robert," in the girl's voice. Something terrible hadhappened. It was a cry of supreme distress. Mortal agony oroverwhelming terror alone could wring that name from her lips.Precisely in such moments this man acted with the decision, theunerring judgment, the instantaneous acceptance of great risk toaccomplish great results, that marked him out as a born soldier.

  He rushed into the house and snatched from the rifle-rack one of thesix Lee-Metfords reposing there in apple-pie order, each with a filledmagazine attached and a cartridge already in position.

  Then he ran, with long swift strides, not through the trees, where hecould see nothing, but towards the beach, whence, in forty yards, theplace where Iris probably was would become visible.

  At once he saw her, struggling in the grasp of two ferocious-lookingDyaks, one, by his garments, a person of consequence, the other ahalf-naked savage, hideous and repulsive in appearance. Around themseven men, armed with guns and parangs, were dancing with excitement.

  Iris's captors were endeavoring to tie her arms, but she was a strongand active Englishwoman, with muscles well knit by the constant laborof recent busy days and a frame developed by years of horse-riding andtennis-playing. The pair evidently found her a tough handful, and theinferior Dyak, either to stop her screams--for she was shrieking"Robert, come to me!" with all her might--or to stifle her intosubmission, roughly placed his huge hand over her mouth.

  These things the sailor noticed instantly. Some men, brave to rashness,ready as he to give his life to save her, would have raced madly overthe intervening ground, scarce a furlong, and attempted a heroic combatof one against nine.

  Not so Jenks.

  With the methodical exactness of the parade-ground he settled down onone knee and leveled the rifle. At that range the Lee-Metford bullettravels practically point-blank. Usually it is deficient in "stopping"power, but he had provided against this little drawback by notching allthe cartridges in the six rifles after the effective manner devised byan expert named Thomas Atkins during the Tirah campaign.

  None of the Dyaks saw him. All were intent on the sensational prizethey had secured, a young and beautiful white woman so contentedlyroaming about the shores of this Fetish island. With the slow speedadvised by the Roman philosopher, the backsight and foresight of theLee-Metford came into line with the breast of the coarse bruteclutching the girl's face.

  Then something bit him above the heart and simultaneously tore half ofhis back into fragments. He fell, with a queer sob, and the othersturned to face this unexpected danger.

  Iris, knowing only that she was free from that hateful grasp, wrenchedherself free from the chief's hold, and r
an with all her might alongthe beach, to Jenks and safety.

  Again, and yet again, the rifle gave its short, sharp snarl, and twomore Dyaks collapsed on the sand. Six were left, their leader beingstill unconsciously preserved from death by the figure of the flyinggirl.

  A fourth Dyak dropped.

  The survivors, cruel savages but not cowards, unslung their guns. Thesailor, white-faced, grim, with an unpleasant gleam in his deep-seteyes and a lower jaw protruding, noticed their preparations.

  "To the left!" he shouted. "Run towards the trees!"

  Iris heard him and strove to obey. But her strength was failing her,and she staggered blindly. After a few despairing efforts she lurchedfeebly to her knees, and tumbled face downwards on the broken coralthat had tripped her faltering footsteps.

  Jenks was watching her, watching the remaining Dyaks, from whom aspluttering volley came, picking out his quarry with the murderous easeof a terrier in a rat-pit. Something like a bee in a violent hurryhummed past his ear, and a rock near his right foot was struck atremendous blow by an unseen agency. He liked this. It would be abattle, not a battue.

  The fifth Dyak crumpled into the distortion of death, and then theirleader took deliberate aim at the kneeling marksman who threatened towipe him and his band out of existence. But his deliberation, thoughskilful, was too profound. The sailor fired first, and wasprofessionally astonished to see the gaudily attired individual tossedviolently backward for many yards, finally pitching headlong to theearth. Had he been charged by a bull in full career he could not havebeen more utterly discomfited. The incident was sensational butinexplicable.

  Yet another member of the band was prostrated ere the two as yetunscathed thought fit to beat a retreat. This they now did withcelerity, but they dragged their chief with them. It was no part ofJenks's programme to allow them to escape. He aimed again at the mannearest the trees. There was a sharp click and nothing more. Thecartridge was a mis-fire. He hastily sought to eject it, and the riflejammed. These little accidents will happen, even in a good weapon likethe Lee-Metford.

  Springing to his feet with a yell he ran forward. The flying men caughta glimpse of him and accelerated their movements. Just as he reachedIris they vanished among the trees.

  Slinging the rifle over his shoulder, he picked up the girl in hisarms. She was conscious, but breathless.

  "You are not hurt?" he gasped, his eyes blazing into her face with anintensity that she afterwards remembered as appalling.

  "No," she whispered.

  "Listen," he continued in labored jerks. "Try and obey me--exactly. Iwill carry you--to the cave. Stop there. Shoot any one you see--till Icome."

  She heard him wonderingly. Was he going to leave her, now that he hadher safely clasped to his breast? Impossible! Ah, she understood. Thosemen must have landed in a boat. He intended to attack them again. Hewas going to fight them single-handed, and she would not know whathappened to him until it was all over. Gradually her vitality returned.She almost smiled at the fantastic conceit that _she_ would desert_him_.

  Jenks placed her on her feet at the entrance to the cave.

  "You understand," he cried, and without waiting for an answer, ran tothe house for another rifle. This time, to her amazement, he dartedback through Prospect Park towards the south beach. The sailor knewthat the Dyaks had landed at the sandy bay Iris had christenedSmugglers' Cove. They were acquainted with the passage through the reefand came from the distant islands. Now they would endeavor to escape bythe same channel. They must be prevented at all costs.

  He was right. As they came out into the open he saw three men, not two,pushing off a large sampan. One of them, _mirabile dictu_, was thechief. Then Jenks understood that his bullet had hit the lock of theDyak's uplifted weapon, with the result already described. By a miraclehe had escaped.

  He coolly prepared to slay the three of them with the same calm purposethat distinguished the opening phase of this singularly one-sidedconflict. The distance was much greater, perhaps 800 yards from thepoint where the boat came into view. He knelt and fired. He judged thatthe missile struck the craft between the trio.

  "I didn't allow for the sun on the side of the foresight," he said. "Orperhaps I am a bit shaky after the run. In any event they can't gofar."

  A hurrying step on the coral behind him caught his ear. Instantly hesprang up and faced about--to see Iris.

  "They are escaping," she said.

  "No fear of that," he replied, turning away from her.

  "Where are the others?"

  "Dead!"

  "Do you mean that you killed nearly all those men?"

  "Six of them. There were nine in all."

  He knelt again, lifting the rifle. Iris threw herself on her knees byhis side. There was something awful to her in this chill andbusiness-like declaration of a fixed purpose.

  "Mr. Jenks," she said, clasping her hands in an agony of entreaty, "donot kill more men for my sake!"

  "For my own sake, then," he growled, annoyed at the interruption, asthe sampan was afloat.

  "Then I ask you for God's sake not to take another life. What you havealready done was unavoidable, perhaps right. This is murder!"

  He lowered his weapon and looked at her.

  "If those men get away they will bring back a host to avenge theircomrades--and secure you," he added.

  "It may be the will of Providence for such a thing to happen. Yet Iimplore you to spare them."

  He placed the rifle on the sand and raised her tenderly, for she hadyielded to a paroxysm of tears. Not another word did either of themspeak in that hour. The large triangular sail of the sampan was nowbellying out in the south wind. A figure stood up in the stern of theboat and shook a menacing arm at the couple on the beach.

  It was the Malay chief, cursing them with the rude eloquence of hisbarbarous tongue. And Jenks well knew what he was saying.