SHOTS ASHORE AND SHOTS AT SEA!
The dry season set in at the beginning of the second week of October. This is the first spring month in the Southern zone. The winter in this nineteenth degree of latitude between the Equator and the tropic of Capricorn had not been very severe. The inhabitants of New Switzerland would soon be able to resume their wonted labours.
After eleven years spent upon this land it was none too soon to attempt to ascertain whether it was a part of one of the continents laved by the Indian Ocean or whether it must be included by geographers among the islands of those seas.
Since the rescue by Fritz of the young English girl upon Burning Rock, M. Zermatt and his wife, his four sons and Jenny Montrose had been happy on the whole. Of course they had at times fears of the future and of the great improbability of deliverance reaching them from outside, and they had, too, memories of home and a longing to get into touch again with mankind.
To-day, then, at a very early hour, M. Zermatt passed through the orchard of Rock Castle and walked along the bank of Jackal River. Fritz and Jack were there before him, equipped with their fishing tackle. As for Ernest, always bad at getting up, yearning for five minutes longer between the sheets, he had not yet left his bed.
Mme. Zermatt and Jenny were busy within doors.
"Papa," said Jack, "it is going to be a fine day."
"I think it is, my boy," M. Zermatt replied. "And I hope that it will be followed by many more as fine, since we are at the beginning of spring."
"What are you going to do to-day?" Frank asked.
"We are going fishing," Fritz answered, showing his net and lines.
"In the bay?" M. Zermatt enquired.
"No," Fritz answered; "if we go up Jackal River as far as the dam, we shall catch more fish than we shall require for breakfast."
"And then?" said Jack, addressing his father.
"Then, my boy," M. Zermatt replied, "we shall not be at a loss for a job. In the afternoon, for example, I am thinking of going to Falconhurst to see if our summer dwelling requires any repairs. Besides, we shall take advantage of the first fine days to visit our other farms, Wood Grange, Sugar-cane Grove, the hermitage at Eberfurt and the villa at Prospect Hill. And then there will be the animals to attend to and the plantations to get into order."
"That, of course, papa," Fritz rejoined. "But since we can have an hour or two this morning, come along, Jack; come along, Frank."
"We are quite ready," cried Jack, "and I can feel a fine trout at the end of my line already. Houp-la! Houp-la!"
Jack pretended to gaff the imaginary fish caught on his hook while calling in glad and ringing tones:
"Off we go!"
Perhaps Frank would have preferred to remain at Rock Castle, where his mornings were generally devoted to study. However, his brother pressed him so eagerly that he made up his mind to follow him.
The three young men were going towards the right bank of Jackal River when M. Zermatt stopped them.
"My children," he said, "your eagerness to go fishing has made you forget——"
"Forget what?" Jack asked.
"What we have made a practice of doing every year, at the beginning of the dry season."
Fritz came back to his father.
"What can that be?" he said, scratching his head.
"What—do you not remember, Fritz—or you, Jack?" M. Zermatt persisted.
"Is it that we have not given you an embrace in honour of the spring?" Jack replied.
"No, no!" Ernest answered, who had just come out from the paddock, rubbing his eyes and stretching his limbs.
"Then it is because we are going off without having had breakfast, isn't it, Ernest, you young glutton?" said Jack.
"No," Ernest replied, "it has nothing to do with that. Papa only wants to remind you of our custom of firing the two guns of Shark's Island battery every year at this time."
"Precisely," M. Zermatt answered.
As a matter of fact, it had been the custom of Fritz and Jack, on one of the days in the second fortnight of October, at the end of the rainy season, to go to the island at the entrance to Deliverance Bay and rehoist the New Switzerland flag, then to salute it with two guns whose report could be heard quite distinctly at Rock Castle. After this, without much hope, they took a survey of the whole sea and shore. Perhaps some ship passing through those waters would catch the sound of the two reports. Perhaps it would soon arrive within sight of the bay. Perhaps some shipwrecked people had even been cast upon some point of this land, which they must suppose to be uninhabited, and these discharges of ordnance would give them warning.
"It is quite true," said Fritz, "we were about to forget our duty. Go and get the canoe ready, Jack, and we shall be back in less than an hour."
But Ernest objected.
"What is the good of this artillery racket? Think of all the years we have fired our guns, only to wake the echoes of Falcon's Nest and Rock Castle! Why waste these charges of powder?"
"That is you all over, Ernest!" Jack exclaimed. "If a cannon shot costs so much it must bring back so much, or else be silent!"
"You are wrong to talk like that," said M. Zermatt to his second son, "and I do not regard the cost as wasted. To fly a flag over Shark's Island cannot be sufficient, for it would not be seen from far out at sea, while our cannon shots can be heard a good two and a half miles. It would be foolish to neglect this chance of making our presence known to any ship passing by."
"In that case," said Frank, "we ought to fire every morning and every evening."
"Certainly; just as they do in the navy," Jack declared.
"In the navy there is no danger of running short of ammunition," remarked Ernest, who was by far the most obstinate of the four brothers.
"Make your mind easy, my boy; we are not nearly out of powder," M. Zermatt assured him. "Two cannon shots, twice a year, at the beginning and the end of winter, only cost a trifle. It is my opinion that we should not discontinue this custom."
"Papa is right," said Jack. "If the echoes of Falconhurst and Rock Castle object to being disturbed from their sleep, well and good! Ernest will make an apology to them in verse, and they will be delighted. Come along, Fritz!"
"We must go and let Mamma know first," said Frank.
"And Jenny too," Fritz added.
"I will attend to that," M. Zermatt replied, "for the reports might cause them some surprise, and even lead them to imagine that some ship was coming into Deliverance Bay."
Just at this moment Mme. Zermatt and Jenny Montrose, who were coming out of the verandah, stopped at the gate of the orchard.
After having embraced his mother Fritz gave his hand to the young girl, who smiled upon him. And as she saw Jack moving towards the creek where the long boat and the pinnace were moored, she asked:
"Are you going to sea this morning?"
"Yes, Jenny," answered Jack, returning. "Fritz and I are making our preparations for a long voyage."
"A long voyage?" Mme. Zermatt repeated, ever uneasy about absences of this kind, however great her confidence might be in the skill of her sons in managing the canoe.
"Make your mind easy, my dear Betsy, and you, too, Jenny," M. Zermatt said. "Jack is only joking. It is only a matter of going to Shark's Island and firing the two regulation guns when the flag is hoisted, and of coming back after seeing that everything is in order."
"That is all right," Jenny replied, "and while Fritz and Jack are going to the island Ernest and Frank and I will go and fish—that is, of course, if Mme. Betsy does not want me."
"No, my dear child," said Mme. Zermatt, "and meanwhile I will go and get the washing ready."
After going down to the mouth of Jackal River, whither Jack brought the canoe, Fritz and he embarked. All wished them a good voyage and the light boat shot quickly out of the little creek.
The weather was fine, the sea calm, the tide favourable. Sitting one in front of the other, each in the narrow opening allotted to him, the two brothers plied their paddles alternately and rapidly drew away from Rock Castle. As the current bore a little towards the east, the canoe was obliged to approach the opposite shore, crossing the inlet which connected Deliverance Bay with the open sea.
At this time Fritz was twenty-five years of age. Vigorous and skilful, well trained in every physical exercise, a tireless walker and an intrepid hunter, this eldest son was a credit to the Zermatt family. His temper, in his boyhood rather bad, had become better. His brothers never suffered now, as they used to do, from those fits of anger of his which had often brought upon him remonstrances from his father and mother. Something had changed him materially.
He could not forget the young girl whom he had taken off Burning Rock, and Jenny Montrose could not forget that she owed her deliverance to him. Jenny was charming, with her fair hair falling in silky ringlets, her graceful figure, her pretty hands, and the fresh complexion which was not spoiled by the sunburn on her face. When she came into this family she brought into it what it had lacked till then, gladness of the home, and she was the good genius of the hearth.
Ernest, Jack, and Frank saw no more than a sister in this charming girl. But was it quite the same with Fritz? Was it the self-same emotion that made his heart beat so? Was it only friendship that Jenny felt for the brave young fellow who had come to her rescue? Already nearly two years had passed since that poignant incident upon Burning Rock. Fritz had not been able to live by Jenny's side without falling in love with her. And many a time did the father and mother talk of what the future held for these two.
If Jack's character had undergone any modification it was in the development of his natural inclination for all exercises which called for strength, courage and skill, and on this score he now had nothing to envy Fritz. His age was now one and twenty, his stature medium, his figure strapping, and he was still the same gallant, merry, pleasant, impulsive, and also good fellow as ever. He had not given up teasing his brothers, but they were always ready to forgive him. Was he not the best pal in the world?
The canoe sped like an arrow over the surface of the water. Fritz had not hoisted the little sail which it carried when the wind was favourable, because the breeze was blowing off the sea. On the return journey the mast would be stepped, and it would not be necessary to use the paddles to make the mouth of Jackal River.
Nothing happened to catch the attention of the two brothers during their short voyage of a couple of miles. To the east, the arid desert shore showed only a long succession of yellowish dunes. To the west, the verdant coast extended from the mouth of Jackal River to the mouth of Flamingo River and beyond that to False Hope Point.
"There is no doubt," said Fritz, "that our New Switzerland does not lie in the course of any ships, and this Indian Ocean is pretty well deserted."
"Well," said Jack, "I am not so very keen upon their discovering our New Switzerland! A ship which touched at it would not lose any time in taking possession of it. And if it planted its flag here, what would become of ours? You may be quite sure it would not be a Swiss flag, seeing that it isn't exactly over the seas that Switzerland carries her flag, so we should run a considerable risk of not feeling ourselves at home any more."
"And the future, Jack: what about the future?" Fritz replied.
"The future?" Jack made answer; "the future will be a continuation of the present, and if you are not satisfied——"
"All of us are, perhaps," said Fritz. "But you forget Jenny; and her father who believes that she was lost in the wreck of the Dorcas. Must she not be longing to be restored to him? She knows that he is over there, in England, and how is she ever to join him there unless a ship arrives some day?"
"Quite so," said Jack with a smile, for he guessed what was going on within his brother's heart.
In about three-quarters of an hour the canoe reached the low-lying rocks of Shark's Island.
Fritz and Jack's first business was to visit the interior and then to make a circuit of the island. It was important to ascertain the condition of the plantations made some years ago round the battery hill.
These plantations were much exposed to the winds from the north and north-east, which lashed the island with their full force before rushing down the funnel-like entrance into Deliverance Bay. At this point there were actually atmospheric backwaters, or eddies, of dangerous strength, which more than once already had torn the roofing off the hangar under which the two guns were placed.
Fortunately the plantations had not suffered excessively. A few trees were lying on the beach on the north side of the island, and these would be sawn up to be stored at Rock Castle.
The enclosures in which the antelopes were penned had been so solidly constructed that Fritz and Jack detected no damage done to them. The animals had abundant pasture there throughout the year. The herd now numbered fifty head, and was bound to go on increasing.
"What shall we do with all these animals?" Fritz asked, as he watched them frolicking between the quickset hedges of the enclosures.
"Sell them," was Jack's answer.
"Then you do admit that some day or another ships will come to which it will be possible to sell them?" Fritz enquired.
"Not a bit of it," Jack replied; "when we sell them it will be in open market in New Switzerland."
"Open market, Jack! From the way you talk one would suppose it won't be very long before New Switzerland has open markets."
"No doubt about it, Fritz; or that it will have villages and little towns, cities, and even a capital, which, naturally, will be Rock Castle."
"And when will that be?"
"When the provinces of New Switzerland have several thousand inhabitants."
"Foreigners?"
"No, no, Fritz," Jack declared; "Swiss: none but Swiss. Our native land has enough people to be able to send us a few hundred families."
"But it never has had any colonies, and I don't suppose it ever will, Jack."
"Well, it will have one, at any rate, Fritz."
"But our countrymen don't seem to show any inclination to emigrate."
"What about ourselves?" Jack exclaimed. "Didn't we develop the liking for colonisation—and not without some advantage?"
"Because we were obliged to," Fritz answered. "No, if ever New Switzerland is to be populated, I am very much afraid she won't continue to justify her name, and that the large majority of her inhabitants will be Anglo-Saxon."
Fritz was right, and Jack knew it so well that he could not refrain from making a grimace.
For at this period Great Britain was still frequently acquiring new possessions. Bit by bit, the Indian Ocean was always giving her fresh domains. So the great probability was that if a ship ever did come in sight, the British flag would be flying at her peak and her captain would take possession of New Switzerland and hoist the British flag on the summit of Prospect Hill.
When they had finished their inspection of the island the two brothers climbed the hill and went to the hangar where the battery stood.
Standing upon the edge of the upper terrace they swept with their telescopes the whole vast segment of sea contained between False Hope Point and the cape which shut in Deliverance Bay to the east.
Nothing but a desert waste of water! Right out to the extreme horizon, where sky and ocean met, nothing was to be seen except, three or four miles away to the north-east, the reef on which the Landlord had run aground.
Turning their eyes towards False Hope Point, Fritz and Jack perceived between the trees upon the hill the belvidere of the villa at Prospect Hill. The summer dwelling was still standing—which would be a satisfaction to M. Zermatt, who was constantly afraid that it might be destroyed by some of the sudden squalls of the rainy season.
The two brothers went into the hangar, which the storms had spared, although there had been more than enough thunderstorms and squalls during the two and a half months that the winter had lasted.
Their next business was to run up to the head of the mast near the hangar the red and white flag which would wave there until the end of autumn, and to honour it with the annual salute of two guns.
While Jack was busy taking the flag out of its case and fastening it by the corners to the halyard, Fritz examined the two carronades that were pointed towards the open sea. They were both in good condition, and only required to be loaded. In order to economise powder, Fritz was careful to use a wad of damped sod, as it was his practice to do, which increased the intensity of the discharge. Then he fixed in the touch-hole the quick match which would fire the gun the instant the flag reached the top of the mast.
It was then half past seven in the morning. The sky, cleared now of the mists of early dawn, was absolutely serene. Only towards the west a few wisps of cloud rose in delicate spirals. The breeze seemed dying down. The bay, glittering beneath the streaming rays of the sun, was almost dead calm.
As soon as he had finished, Fritz asked his brother if he was ready.
"When you like, Fritz," Jack answered, satisfying himself that the halyard would run without catching on the roof of the hangar.
"Number one, fire! Number two, fire!" cried Fritz, who took himself very seriously as artilleryman.
The two shots rang out one after the other while the red and white bunting fluttered out in the breeze.
Fritz busied himself reloading the two guns. But he had hardly put the cartridge in the second cannon when he jumped upright.
A distant detonation had just struck upon his ear.
At once Jack and he rushed out of the hangar.
"A gun!" cried Jack.
"No!" said Fritz. "It isn't possible. We are mistaken."
"Listen!" answered Jack, scarcely breathing.
A second detonation rang through the air, and then after an interval of a minute a third resounded.
"Yes, yes!" Jack insisted. "Those are cannon shots all right."
"And they came from the east," Fritz added.
Was it really a ship, passing within sight of New Switzerland, that had replied to the double discharge from Shark's Island, and would that ship steer her course for Deliverance Bay?