As It Was in the Beginning

by Philip Verrill Mighels

What sounds were made by the Dyaks, in retreat from that particular position, failed to come down through the rock. She was, therefore, denied the abatement of her apprehension which she might otherwise have known. She was thoroughly convinced that one of the fiends had been posted above the passage opening to remain indefinitely on guard.

The Dyaks had, however, concluded their examination of the terrace rather promptly. There was almost nothing worth investigation. Grenville's imitation cannon had served its purpose to perfection. The head-hunters marveled that a gun so simply and readily constructed could have wrought such havoc in their ranks. But they found no reason to doubt it had been used, and they readily overlooked the small brass piece so artfully hidden by the stones.

They had lost no time in removing the bowlders that supported Sidney's ladder. One or two only they suffered to remain—sufficient to anchor the affair in place, yet permit their man to drop back in the tide, should he intrust his weight to it.

That the white man's powder magazine had been greatly diminished before their flaming arrows completed its destruction seemed indisputable. The bombs had torn out and blackened so much of a cavity that the Dyaks' gratification was complete. It was scarcely possible, they argued, that the man seen running crazily about had escaped a mortal hurt. He had certainly summoned the strength to escape to the cave, but there he might have died.

All the waste sections of Sidney's bamboo were thrown with his cannon and his flag-pole in the sea. A thorough search was made of Elaine's former shelter, as well as of all the rock heaps on the place, for the treasure the man might have taken from the cave and concealed about his camp.

Not until some time after noon did the visitors finally leave the hill and disappear in the jungle growth to mature their further plans. Elaine knew nothing of their departure. She still remained back in the darkness of the gallery, and, therefore, neither heard nor saw the movements made on the ledge. She was hardly less prepared than before to see the door of the gallery rudely torn away at any moment, and the hideous head-hunters confidently pouncing in upon her.

Grenville, down in the blackness of the cavern, was hardly more easy in his mind. The Dyaks had failed to appear before the cave. He realized they might conclude to starve him to death in the tomb-like place, rather than risk another of his traps. To return to the terrace was out of the question. Not only might the natives be present, but, if once he were seen, they must immediately realize he had some unknown means of passage from the cave to the summit.

That the ladder would be watched he was certain. It was also more than likely, he was sure, the Dyaks would either cut through the strands to weaken it, near the top, or displace the rocks he had heaped upon its end. Reflecting that to pull it down while one of their craft was cruising about the headland might convince them he had fallen in the sea, he laid his platform out on the ledge for the purpose before the terrace had been deserted. But the boat was not to be seen.

At noon the sun beat down on the rocks about the cave with a hot, intolerable glare. Grenville was weary, as well as thirsty once more, and faint from lack of food. He dared not abandon the cavern now, however, since any moment might find the Dyaks slipping to the open niche to complete the deed they had vainly attempted before.

Never had the long, sultry hours of afternoon dragged by more tediously. Never had the man so vividly realized how much it meant to be near Elaine, to hear her voice, to gaze in the depths of her eyes.