CHAPTER XL
PLOT AND COUNTER PLOT
The smoke that for two forbidding days had veiled and grayed the headland, continued to drift from the jungle, when Grenville roused from his slumber.
He was much refreshed, yet had not entirely recuperated the strength so drained in the night. The aspect of the barren rock, engulfed in the fumes, was only what he had expected. He felt convinced that, like the mistral of the Riviera, this wind would continue for three full days at least. And the Dyaks were hardly likely to permit an abatement of the smoke while it brought no discomfort to themselves.
Apparently they had made no effort to bridge the gap that rendered the trail completely useless. It was clear to Sidney's mind, however, that so soon as they believed the adventure safe, they would swarm upon the terrace, if for nothing else, then in search of heads and the treasure.
With the possible development of an earlier plan in his mind, he crossed at once to his cannon, loaded and primed in its bed, and began to adjust a lot of loose stones above and upon it, to hide it completely from view. The fuse he drew, meantime, aside, where he meant to splice another length to its end.
Elaine came out from the narrow confines of her gallery in the hope of lending assistance. She was wearing the tiger's jeweled collar about her slender waist.
"I'm hiding the gun—masking our battery," Sidney informed her, quietly. "Its muzzle is still unobstructed and pointed as before. In case it seems wise to permit the Dyaks to climb up at last and look about, I prefer they shouldn't steal our thunder." If he noted the golden girdle, he made no unusual sign.
Elaine was considerably puzzled.
"But—why should we let them come?"
"To convince them their prisoners have flown. It may give us a chance to punish them harder, later on."
"If a steamer would only come!" she said, turning vainly to the sea, still shrouded from view. "Even a Chinese junk! Anything, almost, but more of these horrible fiends!"
"You see," continued Grenville, "I can make an imitation cannon, from one of my bamboo lengths, and leave it here to fool them. They may be led to think it the only gun we've had, and search no farther for our ordnance. The smoke is likely to lift, I think, which is why I'm at work before breakfast."
He did not complete the arrangements of his ruse before they broke their fast, however, since the making of an imitation cannon required at least an hour. The last of their meat, save a little intended for fishing-bait, was consumed with the insignificant remnants of their fruit supply, and Grenville took time to catch one silvery fish from the ledge in front of the cavern, as well as to gather a lot of the mussels, for luncheon and dinner, before he returned to the terrace.
Already the breeze was failing. There were streaks of highly acceptable air interspersed with the billows of smoke. Not without a certain impatience to have this business concluded before the veiling fumes should leave the terrace entirely exposed to the penetrative sight of the Dyaks, Grenville hastened the construction of his imitation gun, to be left by the heap of stones.
That a more convincing appearance of over-use might assist in creating the desired impression, he selected one of the bamboo sections already badly split. This he readily blackened by burning a handful of powder, loosely, inside its muzzle. With a rude vent cut and similarly treated, the affair was ready to be bound with discarded creepers, then lodged in the rocks above the genuine bit of artillery still ready for grim engagements.
All that remained of the powder in his cave was carefully moved to the passage, there to be most cautiously deposited, away from all possible fire, along with his coils of fuse. Somewhat to his disappointment, the northerly breeze seemed once more freshening as the morning hours advanced. He had hoped not only for a lifting of the smoke, but likewise to find the Dyaks' boat once more encircling the headland.
Beyond transferring his water supply from the jugs to a number of bamboo buckets, which permitted no waste by percolation, he had nothing further to employ his time as the day wore slowly on. The heat in the meantime was intolerable. The fish was roasted in an "oven" he fashioned of the heat-retaining tufa. The mussels were likewise "steamed" in their own exuding juices, occupying the large and basin-like sea-shell for the purpose.
It was not until nearly four in the afternoon that the wind definitely veered. Grenville had noted the coming alteration that would clear the hill of fumes in time to make all essential preparations for the Dyak watchfulness. His furnace of fire was duly banked, to continue a smoldering glow among the ashes without producing smoke. Elaine had retired within the passage, and the entrance door to this secret hiding-place was adjusted against the rock.
Grenville remained upon the terrace. No less a degree of vigilance than that previously exercised was, he felt, highly essential. Concealed in the caves or rocks comprised by the former camp he could not only guard against surprise by a bridging of the ruined trail, but his view of the sea, that might once more be haunted by the Dyak craft, was practicably without limit.
Apparently the Dyaks, too, had been aware the breeze would serve them no longer. The smudges in the jungle were extinguished. In a time comparatively brief, after the shifting of the wind, no smoke at all was visible. But during the final hour preceding sunset another phase of fiendish ingenuity developed.
The Dyaks began shooting arrows of fire all about on the summit of the terrace. They were shafts made highly inflammable by means of resin and pitch. Their flight through the air was not sufficiently violent to extinguish their glowing ends. If they did not blaze upon alighting on the rocks, they still retained sufficient heat and redness to ignite a pan of powder.
It was this that occurred to Grenville as he made up his mind that some genius of diabolism among the new arrivals was doubtless responsible for this effort to explode his magazine. His satisfaction with himself for his foresight in storing his powder anew was his one real joy of the day. He wondered how long this business might continue, and how many of the enemy must now be reckoned with.
As a matter of fact, with the four who had come under cover of the night, there were nine unscathed by previous engagements. Also, it was, as Grenville had suspected, one of the latest comers who had counseled the use of burning arrows. Since the terrace defenders were employing some dreaded explosive, the one course readily suggested was to reach his supply with a brand of fire—and, perhaps, thereby destroy its maker. In any event, deprived of this one deadly means of defense, the whites could be readily slaughtered.
Already the Dyaks had built a bridge, to be used, when the time should at last arrive, for spanning that gap on the trail. It was not impossible, many had urged, that the prisoners lodged on the headland's summit were already either dead or dying. How they had managed to survive so long, with no supply of water, was sufficiently mysterious. Should they still be found alive another day—all the greater the joy of bringing about the end!
The Dyak plan for reaching the magazine had been too hastily concocted. The supply of tarred and resined arrows was decidedly insufficient. Less than a score had been sent to the top of the terrace when the last was speeded on its way. But during the short remaining hour of daylight, and even by firelight, after dark, the shafts accumulated swiftly, against the coming of the dawn.
Meantime to Grenville had come an inspiration. His one clear hope for the morning was that more of the arrows might be shot from below to make his plans complete. If the Dyaks were busy after dark, they could scarcely have matched the fever with which he likewise toiled.
Down to the cool, dry chamber of the cavern he had carried no less than eight of his largest bombs, with coil upon coil of his fuse. Two mines of four bombs each he planted, concealing all with rocks. From each of the mines one fuse only was laid, to the inner angle of the passage. Each bomb had a shorter bit of fuse thrust in a handful of powder, to which the two main fuses led. The lines were carefully protected, not only against discovery, but as well against himself, or his boots, as he tramped back and forth from the cave. When this arrangement had been made complete, he could do no more in that direction till his favorable hour should arrive.
His next attention was directed to his bamboo float, which had been practically dismembered. He had utilized the heavy stems to construct a long and narrow platform, with two rude hooks lashed on the end to engage a rung of his ladder. This ladder he not only lowered down from the wall to a position in front of the cavern's opening, securing its end with more than ordinary caution among the rocks he piled upon it, but also he had tested the length, and every rung, by extending his platform across from the ledge and climbing from the sea to the terrace.
It was midnight before his final preparation was complete. This had been simply arranged. He had carried a canister of powder to the outside rocks, considerably back of Elaine's former shelter, together with two small bombs. The powder he laid in a six-foot ring, or spiral, that narrowed towards the center, merely to provide a lasting and widespread flash when at length it should be ignited.
The bombs were placed near by, simply laid in a cave of no considerable dimensions. Their fuses were trailed across the rocks to a place of observation, and were opened out in such a manner as to fire both the spiral and the noisy but harmless explosives.
Despite his nervous tension and the worry occasioned in his mind, lest, the Dyaks fail of their allotted part, Grenville finally slept as soundly as a boy, when at length he could work no more. But Elaine, strangely tingling with apprehension, concerned with the part that she must likewise play to render his plans effective, had not Sidney's weariness to overcome her nerves, and therefore rested badly.
For long she lay there, listening, as always, to the silence enfolding the island, thinking how fair it had really been when the wail alone had been with them, and wondering, eagerly wondering, if by chance her companion of the hours both bright and dark had noticed the girdle she was wearing.