"Look at that poor scarecrow!" cried a third, as they scaled the hill and drew together as if loath to enter the gloom of the shadow flung by those tremendous trees. They gazed upwards at the giant branches, and closed ranks. More than one hand was pointing to the whitened skeleton.
"Do you see that?" and a general movement showed the inclination to draw back, one man slowly edging his way behind another. It left the captain in the forefront. Mr. Lee lifted a feeble hand.
"Oh, it is all right; there he is!" exclaimed the man of the sea, less easily daunted by the eerie qualms which seemed to rob his comrades of their manhood.
"We've come to fetch you home, old boy," he added, bending over Mr. Lee and asking for his sons. "Have you not two?"
"Yes, I've a brace of them," said the injured man, "Edwin, where is Edwin?"
"Edwin and Cuthbert," repeated the captain. "I have something to tell you about them. They are just two of the boldest and bravest little chaps I ever met with. If my mates were here they would tell you the same. But they have followed the fall of mud, and gone across the hills by Taupo. I was too footsore for the march, and so kept company with these surveying fellows."
The said fellows had rallied, and were grouped round Mr. Hirpington, who was pointing out the route they must take to reach the valley farm.
Two of the men started to carry their baggage to Mr. Hirpington's boat, intending to row to the ford and wait there for their companions. The canvas was taken down from the trees. Mr. Lee was bound to his board once more and laid within the ample folds, and slid rather than carried gently down the steep descent. The puzzle remained how one old man and two boys ever got him to the top alive. The party was large enough to divide and take turns at the carrying, and the walk was long enough and slow enough to give the captain plenty of opportunity to learn from Mr. Hirpington all he wanted to know about Mr. Lee and his boys. He gave him in return a picture of the deserted coast. "Every man," he said, "was off to the hills when my little craft went down beneath the earthquake wave. It was these young lads' forethought kept the beacon alight when the night overran the day. They saw us battling with the waves, and backed their cart into the sea to pick us up. Mere boys, they had to tie themselves to the cart, sir. Think of that."
Mr. Hirpington was thinking, and it made him look very grave. What had he been doing in the midst of the widespread calamity? Not once had he asked himself poor Audrey's question, but he asked it now as the captain went on: "A shipwrecked sailor, begging his way to the nearest port, has not much in his power to help another. But I will find out a man who both can and will. I mean old Bowen. He is one of our wealthiest sheep-owners, and he stands indebted to these two lads on the same count as I do, for his grandson was with me."
"His run is miles away from here," said Mr. Hirpington. "You cannot walk so far. Look out for some of Feltham's shepherds riding home; they would give you a lift behind them."