CHAPTER XXII.
A STRANGE MEETING.
They gained the shores of the "lake" at a point a good distance removed from the vicinity of Colonel Morello's camp. But they no sooner reached the shore than by the light of the flames they perceived that, as the wounded man had said, some indeed of the band must have eluded capture or injury by the savages.
The two-masted schooner which had been the theater of Nat's former thrilling adventures was already in motion. With canvas up, she was heading for the mouth of the gorge.
Seemingly, the savages who had attacked the camp must have been a land force, for, although the boys could see several of them on the bank of the lake in the neighborhood of the burning camp, they made no effort to pursue the schooner. But as they watched her glide off they could be heard to utter angry cries and shouts.
"Well, so far, it looks as if the schooner will get off scot free," remarked Nat; "but what are they going to do when they come to the gorge? They can't sail her through that."
"Hardly," agreed Joe. "I guess when they reach it they will either tow her by boats or else warp her through by casting out the anchor and then pull in up on the cable."
The latter was, in fact, the means used by the fugitives to get through the narrow gorge. On board her were Colonel Morello, Ed. Dayton, and a dozen others, including Larsen, the giant Swede who acted as the vessel's navigator. They had escaped from the village when it was attacked by the natives and made straight for the banks of the lake where they had embarked in the collapsible boat brought by the boys and another small craft which they had there.
When they reached the open sea, after pushing through the curtain of greenery, the collapsible boat was cast adrift.
In the meantime, the boys had circled a great part of the lake in search of some sort of a boat which they thought might have been left there by either Gooddale or some of Morello's men.
All this took a long time, and it was close to midnight when Nat, who was in advance of the party, stopped and gave a cry of delight. Ahead of them on the white beach lay a canoe, turned bottom upward.
"Hooray!" shouted Nat. "With some branches for paddles we can make good our escape in this, all right. Boys, suppose you go and cut some limbs from those trees while I turn the canoe over and get her in the water, and then hooray! for the dear old 'Nomad.'"
Joe and Ding-dong, in a hurry to complete their errand, plunged into the dense jungle in search of suitable limbs, while Nat hastened to the side of the canoe and turned it over. As he did so he got one of the most thrilling shocks of his life.
From under the craft there leaped three hideous, painted savages. Their noses were transfixed with wooden pegs, brass rings hung from their ears, extending the lobes to an unnatural size. Round their necks hung strings of door-knobs, old cartridges, and various other bits of hardware.
They poised their spears threateningly at Nat who stood transfixed with alarm and astonishment.
They poised their spears threateningly at Nat who
stood transfixed with alarm and astonishment.
The men formed part of an outlying system of sentries, posted by the wily old chief of the tribe.
One of them clapped his hand to his lips as a signal for silence, emphasizing his order by a flourish of his spear.
But he need not have done so. Nat knew that to make an outcry would mean that Ding-dong and Joe Hartley would come bounding to his assistance. In that case, they would be in as grave a fix as he was. So he remained silent while his captors signaled to him to follow them.
With one at his side and two spearsmen behind him, Nat had no recourse but to obey. As he stumbled along, for the savages were stepping out briskly, Nat found himself wondering what Ding-dong and Joe would think when they returned to the beach and found the canoe deserted. He hoped they would have presence of mind enough to waste no time in looking for him, but make all haste to the "Nomad" and summon aid.
If they did this he might be able to stave off harm till aid arrived. But in case it did not, Nat, foolishly perhaps, did not feel any immediate apprehension. His captors, while savage looking and menacing, did not appear willing to offer him any actual harm.
"I wonder where we are heading for?" thought Nat, as they hastened along, skirting the shores of the lake at the same brisk pace.
"I guess we are going back to the camp where the chief must be. In that case, it won't be long before I know what is to be done with me. If I can only convince the savages that I am as much an enemy of Gooddale and Morello as they are, I may get off without any trouble."
Buoying up his spirits by such thoughts, Nat stepped out as boldly as his captors, who from time to time conversed with each other in guttural monotones.
As Nat had surmised, their course was laid for the still blazing camp. At the pace they were going they reached it far quicker than it had taken the boys to traverse the distance to the canoe, for the savages had no need to dodge in and out of trees and shrubbery to avoid being seen.
It was a wild and strange scene that met Nat's eyes as he and his escort entered the burned camp. Savages, all attired—or, rather, unattired—like his captors were swarming everywhere.
They capered and danced about the ruins with shrill cries. Evidently they thought they had accomplished an excellent night's work. Here and there Nat noted, with a shudder, some still forms lying huddled and motionless. He knew that these must be the bodies of the victims of the fight which followed when the camp was surprised.
Were Morello and Dayton among them, he wondered, or had they escaped on the schooner the lads had seen standing off down the lake?
In front of one of the burned huts a tall savage stood, leaning on his spear. The fire-light played on his features and it struck Nat that the man had a far more intelligent look than his followers, at any rate those whom he had seen of them.
It soon transpired that this savage was none other than the chief of the tribe, or, at least, a person of authority. Nat was marched straight up to him and an excited colloquy between the chief and the men who had been lying under the canoe at once began. Other tribesmen came up while it was in progress. They gazed curiously at Nat, but offered him no violence. He wondered what would come next. He was not left long in doubt.
The chief gave a wave of his hand and presently Nat was led off once more. This time he was escorted to a grove of bread-fruit trees and then his hands were strapped behind him around one of the trunks. He was a prisoner for the second time that day, and, by a strange fatality, in almost the same place as had been the scene of his first captivity.
"This looks bad," muttered Nat, half aloud, as the savages, having tied him, walked off again, retracing their steps to the looted camp. "Nat Trevor, you'll need all your courage."
To his amazement, the next instant a voice came out of the darkness, evidently not far from him.
"Who is that who speaks of Nat Trevor?"
"Captain Akers!" exclaimed Nat. "How in the world did you get here?"
"Then it is you!" exclaimed the captain. "This is a most extraordinary meeting, Nat. I fear that we have about reached the end of our tether."
"Not by a long shot," chimed in another familiar voice, which Nat recognized with delight as being that of Cal Gifford. "Nat and me has been in as tough places and gotten out—ain't we, Nat?"
"That's right, Cal," was the rejoinder. "But that isn't answering my question. How did you come to be here?"
"Well, you see," said Captain Akers, "when you didn't come back we decided that something serious must be wrong, and me and Cal set out in the other boat to look for you. It didn't take us long to reach the spot where we had last seen you and to discover that all that green stuff on the cliff-face hid an opening.
"We guessed you must have entered it with the boat and pulled through it. Then we headed up the gorge. We soon emerged into that lake yonder, and saw lights in the camp—or what we later discovered was the camp. Drawing the boat up on shore, so as to half conceal her near the bushes, we set out to reconnoiter. We crept through the jungle till we had gotten quite close to the camp, and the first thing we heard was the voice of that rascal Morello talking about how neatly he had trapped you.
"You kin bet we was mad," put in Cal, "but what could we do? While we was figgering out some way to find your place of imprisonment and aid you, the attack on the camp came. We tried to get away, but a party of them niggers came right up on us. I guess that's about all, except that here we are. And now tell us your story."
Nat briefly related what had occurred to them since they left the "Nomad." His recital was received with exclamations of astonishment by both Cal and Captain Akers. Both were likewise much concerned over the predicament that both Ding-dong and Joe must by that time be in. They had no doubt returned to the boat soon after Nat and his captors had left it. The question was, would they paddle off for the "Nomad" or remain where they were in the hope that Nat would return?
Suddenly Cal scattered all meditations on this subject by a sharp exclamation.
"What's the matter?" asked Captain Akers curiously.
"Nuthin' much, only I got my hands free," drawled Cal, in the most unconcerned manner.