The Castaways

Not even when another and another sting of the same unusual kind caused him to renew his scratching – for by this time he was beginning to succumb to the narcotic influence that would soon induce the sleep of death.

It did thus end: for after a time, and almost without a struggle, the red-haired monster lay stretched upon the platform which had long been his resting-place, his huge limbs supple and tremulous with the last throes of life.

And beside him, in the same condition, was soon after seen his wife, who, of weaker conformation, had more quickly yielded to the soporific effect of the upas poison, from which, when it has once pervaded the blood, there is no chance of recovery.

Saloo did not deem the infant mias worthy a single arrow, and after its parents had been disposed of, he sprang upon the scaffold, followed by Captain Redwood, who, the moment after, was kneeling by his child, and with ear closely pressed to her bosom, listened to learn if her heart was still beating.

It was!

Chapter Thirty Six.

An Improvised Palanquin

“She lives! thank God, she lives!”

These were the words that fell upon the ears of Henry and Murtagh, when Saloo, swimming back to the shore, related to them what had transpired. And more too. She had recovered from her swoon, a long-protracted syncope, which had fortunately kept her in a state of unconsciousness almost from the moment of her capture to that of her rescue.

With the exception of some scratches upon her delicate skin, and a slight pain caused by the compression to which she had been subjected in that hideous hug, no harm had befallen her – at least no injury that promised to be of a permanent nature.

Such was the report and prognosis of Saloo, who had swam back to the shore to procure the ship-carpenter’s axe, and his aid in the construction of a raft.

This was to carry Helen from the islet – from a spot which had so nearly proved fatal to her.

A bamboo grove grew close at hand, and with Saloo’s knowledge and the ship-carpenter’s skill, a large life-preserver was soon set afloat on the water of the lagoon. It was at once paddled to the islet, and shortly after came back again bearing with it a precious freight – a beautiful young girl rescued by an affectionate father, and restored to an equally affectionate brother.

Long before the raft had grounded against the shore, Henry, plunging into the shallow water, had gone to meet it, and mounting upon the buoyant bamboos, had flung his arms around the form of his little sister.

How tender that embrace, how fond and affectionate, how different from the harsh hostile hug of the monster, whose long hairy arms had late so cruelly encircled her delicate form!

As the child was still weak – her strength prostrated more by her first alarm when seized, than by aught that had happened afterwards – Captain Redwood would have deemed it prudent to make some stay upon the shore of the lagoon.

But the place seemed so dismal, while the air was evidently damp and unhealthy, to say naught of the unpleasant thoughts the scene suggested, he felt desirous to escape from it as soon as possible.

In this matter the Malay again came to his assistance, by saying they could soon provide a litter on which the child might be transported with as much ease to herself as if she were travelling in the softest sedan-chair that ever carried noble lady of Java or Japan.

“Construct it then,” was the reply of Captain Redwood, who was altogether occupied in caressing his restored child.

Saloo needed no further directions: he only requested the assistance of Murtagh, along with what remained to him of his tools; and these being as freely as joyfully furnished, a score of fresh bamboos soon lay prostrate on the ground, out of which the palanquin was to be built up.

Lopped into proper lengths, and pruned of their great leaf-blades, they were soon welded into the shape of a stretcher, with a pair of long handles projecting from each end.

The palanquin was not yet complete, and by rights should have had a roof over it to shelter its occupant from rain or sun; but as there was no appearance of rain, and certainly no danger of being scorched by the sun in a forest where its glowing orb was never seen nor its rays permitted to penetrate, a roof was not thought necessary, and Saloo’s task was simplified by leaving it a mere stretcher.

He took pains, however, that it should be both soft and elastic. The latter quality he obtained by a careful choice of the bamboos that were to serve as shafts; the former requisite he secured by thickly bedding it with the lopped-off leaves, and adding an upper stratum of cotton, obtained from a species of bombyx growing close at hand, and soft as the down of the eider-duck.

Reclining upon this easy couch, borne upon its long shafts of elastic bamboo, Saloo at one end and Murtagh at the other, Helen was transported like a queen through the forest she had lately traversed as a captive in a manner so strange and perilous.

Before the sun had set, they once more looked upon its cheering light, its last declining rays falling upon her pale face as she was set down upon the shore of the lake, beside that same tree from which she had taken her involuntary departure.

Chapter Thirty Seven.

The Journey Continued

The captain’s daughter, with the natural vigour of youth, soon recovered from the slight injuries she had sustained in her singular journey through the maze of boughs. The previous perils of shipwreck, and the various hairbreadth escapes through which she had more recently passed, made her last danger all the lighter to bear; for by these her child’s spirit had become steeled to endurance, and her courage was equal to that of a full-grown woman. Otherwise the fearful situation in which she had been placed, if leaving life, might have deprived her of reason.

As it happened, no serious misfortune had befallen, and with Helen’s strength and spirits both fully restored, her companions were able on the third day to resume their overland journey.

And, still more, they started with a fresh supply of provisions – enough to last them for many long days. Captain Redwood and Saloo in their hunting excursion had been very successful. The captain had not been called upon to fire a single shot from his rifle, so that his slender store of ammunition was still good for future eventualities. Saloo’s silent sumpits had done all the work of the chase, which resulted in the death of a deer, another wild pig, and several large birds, suitable for the pot or spit. The hunters had been returning from their last expedition heavily loaded with game, when the cries of Helen, Henry, and Murtagh, had caused them to drop their booty and hasten to the rescue.

Now that all was over, and they were once more reminded of it, Saloo and Murtagh went in search of the abandoned game, soon found it, gathered it again, and transported it to their camping-place by the side of the lake.

Here, during the time they stayed to await the recovery of Helen’s health, the pork and venison were cut up and cured in such a manner as to ensure its keeping for a long time – long enough indeed to suffice them throughout the whole duration of their contemplated journey; that is, should no unexpected obstacle arise to obstruct or detain them.

The fowls that had fallen to Saloo’s arrows were sufficient to serve them for a few days, and with the fine supply of lard obtained from the carcass of the pig, they could be cooked in the most sumptuous manner.

In the best of spirits they again set forth; and it seemed now as if fate had at last grown weary of torturing them, and daily, almost hourly, involving one or other of them in danger of death.

From the edge of the lake, where their journey had been so strangely interrupted, they found an easy path across the remaining portion of the great plain.

Several times they came upon the traces of red gorillas, and once they caught sight of a member of the horrid tribe speeding along the branches above their heads.

But they were not so much afraid of them after all; for Saloo admitted that he did not deem the mias pappan so dangerous; and he had ascertained that it was this species of ourang-outang they had encountered.

He confessed himself puzzled at the behaviour of the one that had caused them so much fear and trouble. It was another species, the mias rombi, of which he stood in dread; and he could only account for the mias pappan having acted as it had done, by supposing the animal to have taken some eccentric notion into its head – perhaps caused, as we have already hinted, by its conflict with the crocodile.

Dangerous these gigantic quadrumana are, nevertheless; – their superhuman strength enabling them to make terrible havoc wherever and whenever their fury becomes aroused. But without provocation this rarely occurs, and a man or woman who passes by them without making a noise, is not likely to be molested.

Besides the large species, to which belonged the ape that had attacked them, the travellers saw another kind while passing across the plain. This was the mias kassio, much smaller in size, and more gentle in its nature.

But they saw nothing of those, tallest of all, and the most dreaded by Saloo – the mias rombis– although the old bee-hunter still maintained his belief that they exist in the forests of Borneo as well as in the wilds of Sumatra.

The plain over which they were making their way, here and there intersected with lagoons and tracts of tree-covered swamp, was the very locality in which these great apes delight to dwell; their habit being to make their huge platforms, or sleeping-places, upon bushes that grow out of boggy marsh or water – thus rendering them difficult of access to man, the only enemy they have need to dread.

Chapter Thirty Eight.

The Friendly Flag

The travellers had taken their departure from the lake-shore at an early hour of the morning; and before sunset they had traversed the remaining portion of the plain, and ascended a considerable distance up the sloping side of the mountains beyond.

Another day’s journey, during which they accomplished a very long and tiresome march, brought them to the summit of the ridge, the great dividing chain which strikes longitudinally across the whole island of Borneo, so far as the geographers yet know it.

They could see far to the northward, dimly outlined against the sky, the immense mountain of Kini-Balu – which rises to a height of nearly 12,000 feet; but they derived their principal gratification from the fact that, in the country stretching westward, appeared nothing likely to prevent them from reaching the destined goal of their journey, the old Malay capital town of Bruni – or rather the isle of Labuan, which lies along the coast a little to the north of it, where Captain Redwood knew that a flag floated, which, if not that of his own country, would be equally as certain to give him protection.

From the position of Kini-Balu, whose square summit they could distinguish from all others, he could see the point to steer for as well, or even better, than if he had brought his ship’s compass with him, and they would no longer be travelling in any uncertainty as to their course. From where they were it could be distinguished to a pointy without any variation; and after a good night’s rest upon the mountain-ridge, they commenced descending its western slope.

For a time they lost sight of the sun’s orb, that, rising behind their backs, was hidden by the mountain mass, and casting a purple shadow over the forest-clad country before them. Soon, however, the bright orb, soaring into the sky, sent its beams before them, and they continued their journey under the cheering light.

Had it not been for fear of their fellow-beings, they would have advanced on without much further apprehension; for one and all were now rejoicing in a plentitude of restored health, and their spirits were consequently fresh and cheerful.