Meanwhile, Leslie found little difficulty in inducing the two blacks to accompany him aboard the catamaran and out to the brig. And when he reached the latter he had not much more difficulty in making them understand what he wanted them to do—this, by the way, consisting chiefly in heaving away upon the winch. He was careful to keep a watchful eye upon them all day, and especially when they first boarded the brig; being desirous to gather, if he could, some idea, from their looks and actions, whether they had ever seen a ship before. But although, as the catamaran drew up alongside the stranded vessel, he noticed that they regarded her with a considerable degree of curiosity and interest, these were hardly sufficiently marked to lead him to the conclusion that they had never seen such a craft before. This, however, was a comparatively unimportant matter. What concerned him most intimately was the fact that, after their night’s rest, they seemed to exhibit a good deal more docility and intelligence than they had displayed on the night before. They worked well and—apparently—quite willingly, but did not appear to possess a very great amount of stamina, as they manifested every indication of being pretty completely exhausted before the day’s work was over.
The next three days passed without the occurrence of anything worthy of record, save that Flora, acting upon Dick’s advice, continued her pistol practice, with the view of further perfecting herself at the target, and acquiring even still greater dexterity. On the fourth day, however, feeling that she was tolerably proficient, and perhaps wearying somewhat of the monotony of perpetual shooting at a target, as soon as Leslie and the natives—one of whom now readily answered to the name of Cuffy, while the other did not disdain to be styled Sambo—had gone off to the brig, she resolved to treat herself to the luxury of a long ramble, with only Sailor for company. Accordingly, packing a small basket with a sufficient luncheon for herself and the dog, she set off.
She had not the least fear; for although they had taken many rambles together, neither she nor Leslie had ever seen the slightest trace of the existence of either animals or reptiles of any kind upon the island, and Dick had quite made up his mind not only that there were none, but that it was logically and physically impossible for any to get there. Besides, the natives were with Dick, and she had Sailor to take care of her; there was, therefore, nothing to be afraid of.
Now although, as has been said, Leslie and Flora had frequently indulged in rambles together, none of them had been very lengthy, or had carried them far afield, with the exception of the one that they had taken to the summit; and Flora’s fancy now yearned to explore “fresh fields and pastures new;” a tantalising memory of a certain grove of especially noble and beautiful flower-bearing trees situate on the north-eastern slope of the peak dwelt persistently with her, she had conjured up a fancy picture of this particular spot that made it appear to her imagination a scene of enchanting and fairy-like beauty, and she longed to satisfy herself as to how closely her imagination approximated to the reality. Moreover, the walk promised to be an agreeably easy one, the slopes of the ground appeared to be gentle, and the face of the country finely broken; she therefore determined to wend her way in this direction.
Sauntering quietly along, she soon left the open savannah behind her, and plunged into the bush, heading generally in a northerly direction, but accommodating her route to the inequalities of the ground and the varying density of the undergrowth; naturally selecting a path that afforded her the easiest passage through the bush. In this manner, after a very pleasant and enjoyable walk for about an hour, she arrived at the crest of the eastern spur of the mountain, and, descending a gentle declivity, soon found herself in a region as romantically beautiful as even her vivid fancy had painted. Ravine succeeded ravine, each with its own tiny streamlet meandering through it, and each more picturesque and enchanting than the last, until at length, emerging from this broken ground, she reached a stretch of park-like country with practically no undergrowth, the greensward being studded with magnificent umbrageous trees, some of which were a mass of lovely blossom of the most exquisite tints, while others were lavishly draped with orchids of every conceivable shape and hue. She was by this time feeling somewhat fatigued and very hungry; she therefore selected the mossy roots of an enormous tree as a resting-place, and, seating herself, leisurely proceeded to eat her luncheon and to give Sailor his. The air of the place was exquisitely soft and balmy, the wide-spreading foliage shielded her from the too-ardent rays of the sun, and bathed the whole scene in a delicious golden green twilight; a profound silence reigned around, broken only by the soothing murmur of the wind through the topmost branches and the equally soothing rustle of the leaves—and it is not to be wondered at that the girl sank into a pleasant reverie that gradually merged into profound sleep.
When at length she awoke, the changed character of the light, and the deepened sombreness of the shadows, warned her that the sun was already low, and that she must hasten homeward if she would reach the camp ere nightfall; she therefore seized her empty basket, and set out upon her return journey, following her outward route as nearly as she could hit it off. But she had slept much longer than she suspected, and when at length she again reached the broken and romantic ground that she had traversed with such delight and enjoyment in the morning, the shadows had fallen so deeply that it was with the utmost difficulty only that she could discern her way, and she found herself obliged to proceed with the greatest circumspection. And now it was that, for the first time, she fully appreciated the advantage of having Sailor as a companion, for the dog appeared to remember the way by which they had come much better than she did, running on before her for a few yards, then pausing for her to come up to him, and again running forward. Several times he had persisted in adopting a certain route in preference to the one that she seemed disposed to pursue, and in each case had proved himself to be right; she therefore at length resigned herself blindly to his guidance, following him wherever he chose to lead.
In this fashion the pair hastened forward as rapidly as the rough and broken character of the ground would permit, Flora by this time being in a tumult of distress at the knowledge that Dick would already have returned from the wreck and be wild with anxiety at her unaccountable absence—for she had said nothing to him about her intentions when he left her that morning, the expedition being the result of an impulse that had come to her after his departure. The sun had by this time set, and even in the open the brief twilight was rapidly deepening into night, while where Flora now was, plunged in the heart of a wild ravine, thickly overgrown with trees and bush, it was so dark that she could with difficulty distinguish the form of the dog, even when he was close to her. But she had the comfort of knowing that Sailor was guiding her aright, for she presently, found herself making her way over a particularly difficult bit of ground that she had a vivid remembrance of having passed during the morning; find the difficulties that she had then experienced made her more than usually careful now, as she was fully aware that a false step would probably result in an ugly fall.
Yet, despite all her care, she took that false step, and instantly found herself plunging headlong over a low cliff into a dense tangle of undergrowth. She was not hurt in the least, but to her chagrin she found herself so completely involved in the tangle that, struggle as she would, it seemed impossible for her to extricate herself. Every movement of her body served but to involve her more completely, and to sink her more effectually into the heart of her leafy prison. Fortunate indeed was it for her that there happened to be no thorns on the bushes into which she had fallen, otherwise she must have sustained very serious injuries in her frantic efforts to free herself from the tough, cordlike lianas that entwined her body and limbs so completely that at length she found it practically impossible to further move hand or foot. As for Sailor, he seemed quite incapable of doing anything more useful than run to and fro along the narrow ledge from which his mistress had fallen, barking distractedly, and utterly disregarding Flora’s imperative injunctions to go home. For she soon realised the exceedingly disconcerting fact that she was a helpless prisoner, as utterly unable to effect her escape, unaided, as though she were immured within the walls of a Russian fortress; and she further realised that unless the dog could be induced to return to camp and guide Dick to her rescue, she might actually remain where she was and starve ere her lover succeeded in discovering her.
Meanwhile Dick, too, had had an unfortunate day. For late in the afternoon, while breaking up the deck of the brig, the catamaran had in some inexplicable manner gone adrift, and, driving athwart the stern of the brig, snapped her mast short off at the deck, completely disabling her, of course. In consequence of this accident, Dick had at once knocked off work, and taken the craft across the lagoon to the camp, intending to procure a new spar from the woods forthwith, and immediately proceed with the repair of the damage. But the catamaran under sail was one thing, the same craft with her wings clipped was quite another thing; and in her disabled condition she proved so unexpectedly unhandy that the sun had set and darkness was already closing down when at length he got her to her usual berth.
It was Flora’s invariable custom to stroll down to the beach to meet her sweetheart as soon as she saw the catamaran coming in from the wreck; and Leslie was greatly surprised that on this night of all others—when the unusual lateness of his arrival and the dismantled condition of the catamaran might have been expected to excite her curiosity—she should fail to appear. Yet her absence aroused no shadow of anxiety within him; for what could possibly happen to her, alone there on the island, with the dog to protect her? Nor did the non-appearance of Sailor awaken any suspicion within him, for he knew that the dog and the girl were inseparable companions, and that wherever Flora might be, there would Sailor also be found. He concluded that Flora was somehow detained for the moment, and that she and Sailor would presently present themselves as usual. Meanwhile, he secured the catamaran, served out their supper rations to Cuffy and Sambo, and attended to one or two other matters.