CHAPTER XXVI.
ON THE ISLAND.
Meanwhile, what of poor Ralph? Was it true that he had been dashed to his death over the high cliff?
Happily, it was not true. Yet, for a long while after he was pushed over, the boy knew nothing of what had happened.
He went down and down, clutching vainly at rocks and bushes as he passed. Then his head struck a stone and he was knocked senseless.
How long he remained in this state he did not know. When he came to all was dark around him and silent.
Putting his hand to his face he found it covered with blood. There was a large bruise on his left temple, and his head ached as it never had before.
"Where am I?" was his first thought. "What has hap—— Oh!"
With something akin to a shock he remembered the truth—how he had stood on the edge of the cliff, and how Martin and Toglet had bumped up against him and shoved him over.
"I believe they did it on purpose," he thought. "The villains! What was their object?"
By the darkness Ralph knew it was night, but what time of night he could not tell. Luckily, he had not worn his new watch. The old one was battered, and had stopped.
Presently the bruised and bewildered boy was able to take note of his surroundings, and then he shuddered to think how narrowly he had escaped death.
He had caught in a small tree which grew half way down the side of the cliff, and his head struck on a stone resting between two of the limbs of the tree. Below him was a dark space many feet in depth, above him was a projecting wall of the cliff which hid the top from view.
What to do he did not know. He wished to get either to the top or the bottom of the wall as soon as possible, but he did not dare make the effort in his feeble condition and without the aid of daylight.
"I must remain here until dawn," he concluded. "I can do nothing until I can see my way."
To prevent himself from falling should he grow faint or doze off, he tied himself to the limbs of the tree with several bits of cord he happened to have in his pocket.
Hour after hour went by, and he sat there, alternately nursing his wounds and clutching his aching head, and wondering why the two men had treated him so cruelly. Never once did he suspect that they were the hirelings of Squire Paget.
"They did not rob me," he said to himself, after he had searched his pockets and found his money and other valuables safe. "And yet I am positive that it was not an accident."
At last the morning dawned. With the first rays of light Ralph looked about for some manner of releasing himself from his perilous position.
To climb up to the top of the cliff was impossible. There was nothing but the bare rocks to clutch, and they would afford no hold worth considering.
Therefore, he must go down; but such a course was nearly as hazardous.
With great care he lowered himself to the cleft from which the tree that had saved his life sprung. Having gained this, he scrambled down along a fringe of brush. Then it was necessary to drop a distance of ten feet, and crawl on hands and knees around a sharp corner to where a slope of dirt led to the bottom. On the dirt he slipped, and he could not stop himself until he had rolled into a clump of bushes directly at the base of the cliff.
"It was necessary to drop a distance of ten feet." See [page 168.]
Still more bruised, he picked himself up with a thankful feeling. At last he was free from the danger which had hung over him so grimly. He breathed a long sigh of relief.
Water was at his feet and his first task was to bathe his face and hands. Then he bound his handkerchief over his bruised temple. He looked about for his cap, and was not long in finding it.
"I suppose those fellows have left the island, and if so they have doubtless taken the sloop," he thought, dismally. "I'll make certain, though, and be on my guard while I am doing it."
He walked slowly and painfully to the cove where the boat had been left, but, as we already know, it was gone.
"They have taken themselves off and left me behind for dead," Ralph said to himself. "Well, thank fortune, I am alive!"
The boy was in a sad situation. He was without food and with no means of communication with the mainland on either side of the lake.
"I must see if I can't signal some passing boat," he thought. "It is impossible to swim to the shore, especially now when I feel as weak as a rag."
Ralph had just struck out for the opposite side of the island, that upon which all of the regular lake boats passed, when the report of a gun reached his ears.
It came from some distance to the north, and was soon followed by several other shots.
He wondered if it could be Martin and Toglet, or some sportsmen. Determined to find out, he set out as rapidly as he could in the direction of the sound.
After passing through a patch of woods and over a hill of rough stones, he came to a thicket of blueberry bushes. As he entered it there came another shot, not a hundred feet away.
In a moment more the boy espied a sportsman, dressed in a regular hunting garb.
"Hallo, there!" he called out.
"Hallo, boy!" returned the man, cheerily. "Out hunting, like myself?"
"No, sir," replied Ralph. "Yes, I am, too," he added, with a faint smile—"I am hunting for help."
"Help?" The sportsman put down his gun. "Why, what's the matter with your head?"
"I've had a bad tumble. Two men pushed me over the cliff on the other side of the island."
"The dickens you say! Pushed you over?"
"Yes, sir."
"What for? Did they rob you?"
"No, sir."
"Oh, then it was an accident, perhaps?"
"I don't think so. I don't see how it could have been accidental."
"Well, you arouse my curiosity. Tell me your story—or, you said you wanted help. What can I do for you?"
"If you have a boat you can put me ashore. The two men took my boat."
"Then they robbed you after all."
"But they didn't go through my pockets," returned Ralph.
Sitting down on a soft knoll of grass, the boy told his story to Carter Franklin, for such was the sportsman's name. The latter listened with interest.
"Certainly an odd occurrence, to say the least, my young friend. What could have been the object of the two villains?"
"I cannot say, sir."
"It is impossible to imagine they wished to murder you merely for your boat."
"That is true, sir."
"Depend upon it, they were up to something more. It may be that they were hired to do the deed."
Ralph started.
"Have you any great enemies?"
"I have enemies, but none so bad as to wish to take my life," returned Ralph, and he thought he told the truth.
"Humph! Well, it's strange. I suppose you would like to be set ashore as soon as possible?"
"Yes, sir."
"You say you came from Glen Arbor? I have only a rowboat at hand——"
"You can land me anywhere," interrupted Ralph. "I can easily tramp it or catch a ride back to where I belong."
"Very well; follow me."
The boy followed the sportsman down the hill to the shore. Here lay a trim-looking boat with a pair of oars on the seats. Both at once sprang in. Ralph was about to take up the blades, but the man stopped him.
"You are too broke up to row," he said. "Sit down and take it easy."
"You are very kind, sir."
"Don't mention it. I only trust you are able to catch those rascals and bring them to justice."
The main shore was soon gained, at a point about six miles above Glen Arbor, and Ralph sprang out. He thanked Carter Franklin again for his kindness, and then started off for home, thinking soon to be able to tell his mother and his friends his strange tale and start out a party to search for his assailants. He did not know that he was destined to have many strange adventures ere he should reach Westville again.