Chapter 18
"Tut, tut, tut, tut!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Murray. "Can you make out which way the sea lies, May?"
"No, sir; I've been a-trying to."
"We can't stay here, my lads, and we must make for the sh.o.r.e. It would be madness to go on now."
"That's a true word, sir," growled Tom May.
"I want to know where our chaps are, but I can't hear nothing but the fire going it. Seems to me as if we've set all Africa afire, and it's going on a mile a minute."
"Who knows where the slave barrack lies?" cried Murray. "It seems horrible, but we must make sure that the fire has caught there."
"Seems to me, sir," said one of the men, "that we're a-standing in the middle of it here."
"I know it ketched fire, sir," said May.
"How can you be sure, man?" said Murray angrily, for he was smarting with pain, and forced to close the lids over his stinging eyes.
"Set it afire myself, sir, and the flames run up the bamboo postesses which set 'em snapping and crackling and going on popping and banging just as if the marine jollies was practising with blank cartridge on an exercise day."
"But are you sure, Tom?"
"Sure as sure, sir. Mr Anderson never thought it would go like this here. He'd got a kind of idee that we should be able to light all the n.i.g.g.e.rs' huts one at a time, 'stead of which as soon as we started a few on 'em they set all the rest off, and the job was done."
"Done, my man!" said Murray. "Why, hark at the roar right away yonder."
"Oh, yes, sir," grumbled the man; "I'm a-harking fast enough. There she goes, and as somebody said, I dunno now whether it was me or one of my messmates, we seem to ha' set all Africa going, and it won't stop till there's no more wood to burn."
"Well," said Murray decisively, "one thing's very plain: we can do no more, and we must make for the river."
"But what about orders, sir?" said the man. "We was to do it thorough, and see as the whole blessed place was a-blazing."
"Well, it is, my man," said Murray. "The first lieutenant didn't mean me to get my men burned as well."
"Skeercely, sir," said one of the men. "I don't know how my messmates are,
"Forward, then, and keep close, my lads. I think it looks lighter ahead there. Keep together."
The mids.h.i.+pman started forward through the blinding smoke, panting and gasping, while at every step the hot ashes emitted sparks and the heat became more intense. But at the end of a score of painful paces a strong hand gripped him by the arm and a hoa.r.s.e voice growled--
"Beg pardon, sir, but this here won't do."
"Right, May," cried the mids.h.i.+pman. "I was just going to say so. Halt, my lads. Here, right wheel!"
_Tramp, tramp, tramp_, with the smoke and sparks rising; and the big sailor growled again in protest.
"Wuss and wuss, sir."
"Yes.--Let's try this way, my lads."
"This here's wusser still, your honour," growled another of the men.
"Yes: it's horrible," cried Murray. "Halt! Now, all together, shout with me, '_Seafowl_ ahoy!'"
The men shouted, and then again, three times, but elicited no reply, and the roar and crackle of the blazing forest seemed to increase.
"Here, which of you can make out where the river lies?" cried Murray.
"Not me, sir," grumbled one of the men out of the stifling smoke, "or I'd soon be into it!"
"Here, once more. I don't think we have tried this way," cried Murray, almost in despair. "Look, Tom May, this does look a little lighter, doesn't it?--No," continued the lad huskily, and without waiting for the able-seaman's reply. "Here, try this way, for the flames seem to be mounting higher there. Keep up your pluck, my lads, and follow me. Are you all there?"
"Ay, ay, sir!" cried the sailor. "We're all here, arn't we, messmates?"
"Ay, ay!" came in a deep growl.
"Then follow me close," said Murray. "Everything depends upon your keeping together."
"Oh, we'll keep together, sir," said May. "Won't we, messmates?"
"Ay, ay!" said another of the men. "But I don't quite like this here job."
"No, no, my lads; it's horrible for you," said Murray, as he tramped on, fighting with his despair.
"'Tarn't wuss for us, sir, than it is for you," said Tom.
"Poor fellows!" thought the mids.h.i.+pman, and he ground his teeth with rage and pain. "But I ought to have led them better." Then aloud, as an idea struck him, "You, Tom, fire a shot upward, and then as he reloads, the next man fire, as I give orders. The others listen for the reply. Some of our fellows must hear the shots.--Halt!"
The men stood together in the deep gloom, for the smoke rose from around them in every direction.
Then, heard distinctly above the roar and crackle of the flames, came the clear sharp-sounding report of the seaman's musket.
"Number two make ready!" cried Murray, and then, "What's that?" For something pa.s.sed them with a faint hiss, and as it seemed to the lad, stuck in the smoking earth.
"Spear, I think, sir," growled Tom May.
"Impossible! Piece of bamboo or palm fallen from above. Now then, Number Two--Fire!"
There was the sharp report, followed directly by another whis.h.i.+ng sound and a thud in the earth.
"Spear it is," growled May.
"Ay, ay," said another of the party; "and I've got it too!"
"Hus.h.!.+ Silence there!" whispered Murray excitedly. "Not wounded, my lad?"
"Nay, sir," came in a subdued voice, "but it would have stuck in my s.h.i.+rt, on'y it was gone to tinder and wouldn't hold nowt. Here it is, though, sir--n.i.g.g.e.r's spear, and they can see us, though we can't see them."
"From which way did it come?"