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Syd Belton: The Boy who would not go to Sea, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 37 |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. The excited party burst into a hearty cheer as the rings of wet rope flew glistening through the sunshine, and a fresh burst broke forth as they saw the outermost deftly caught by Roylance. But the cheer changed to a yell of horror as it was seen that in his effort to cast the line far enough, the old boatswain had overbalanced himself and fallen headlong down the cliff, which was, fortunately for him, sufficiently out of the perpendicular where he fell to enable him to save himself here and there by snatching at the rugged blocks of coral, checking his fall cleverly enough till, as his companions breathlessly watched, he stopped altogether, hanging, almost, on a ledge about six feet above the waves, and only keeping himself from going farther by grasping the stones. The intense interest was divided now between Roylance on the slowly drifting boat and the boatswain clinging for dear life. "Who can climb down to him," cried Syd, "before the rope tightens and he is dragged off? Here, I will." "No, sir; I'll go," said Rogers, eagerly; and without waiting further orders he began to lower himself down as actively as a monkey, now hanging by his hands and dropping to a ledge below, now climbing sidewise to get to a better place before descending again. "Give the rope a turn round one of the blocks as soon as you get hold of it, Rogers," cried Syd. "Ay, ay, sir." "Can you hold on, Strake?" "Ay, my lad, I think I can," growled the boatswain. "Nuff to make a man hold on with them sharks down below." "The rope--the rope!" shouted Roylance from the derelict boat. "Yes. We're trying," cried Syd. "Here, what are you doing? Don't tighten that; you'll have Strake off the rock." He yelled this through his hands as he saw Roylance stooping down and hauling away at the rope hand over hand. "Perhaps he knows what he's doing," thought Syd; and he turned his attention to the boatswain and the man going to his help. "Can any other man go down to assist?" he said. "I'm afraid that Rogers will not be able to hold on, and the boat will go." "You'd better go, Belton," whispered Terry. "I'll take command here. Mustn't lose poor Roylance." Syd turned upon him sharply, and was about to follow the suggestion, when a shout came from Rogers. "The rope--the rope!" For a moment or two Syd stood there half-paralysed as he grasped the fresh trouble that had come upon them, and saw the explanation of Roylance's action. It was plain enough now: in the boatswain's headlong fall he had either loosened his hold of the end of the rope, or retained it so loosely, that as he clung to the rock for his life it had dropped into the waves, and by the time Syd quite realised what was wrong, Roylance had hauled it on board, and was standing with it in his hand, fully awake to the peril of his position, and seeing that no help could come now from the rock. Syd's throat felt dry, and a horrible sensation of fear and despair ran through him as he stood there motionless watching his friend and companion drifting slowly away. Another minute and his position would be hopeless unless some vessel picked him up. So desperate did it seem that Syd felt as if he could do nothing. Then he was all action once more, as he saw what Roylance intended. His lips parted to cry out "Don't! don't!" but he did not utter the words, for it was Roylance's only chance; and all on the rock stood with starting eyes watching him as he seemed to be examining the rocky wall before him, and they then saw him turn his back, bend down, lift a loose coop, bear it to the side of the boat furthest from them, raise it on high, and heave it with a tremendous splash into the smooth sea. Before Syd could more than say to himself, "Why did he do that?" Roylance was back to his old place, had let himself down softly into the water, and was swimming hard for the rock. "It was to attract the sharks," said a voice behind him, as some one else grasped the meaning of the act, and to Syd's intense delight he heard a panting sound, and another of the sailors came toiling up with a fresh ring of rope which he had been to fetch. "Can you save Strake, Rogers?" shouted down Syd. "Ay, ay, sir. I'll help him all right." "Come on, then," panted the young midshipman, and setting off he led the way, climbing along the edge of the rock so as to get level with Roylance, who was rapidly drifting to the end of the rock. "He is bringing the rope ashore," said Syd to himself, as he saw the end in his companion's teeth; and they climbed on, encouraging each other with shouts, and steadily progressed; but as they climbed it was in momentary expectation of hearing a wild shriek, and seeing Roylance throw up his hands, as one of the ravenous monsters dragged him under. And as they climbed to get level with him, Roylance swam steadily on through the clear blue water; and though every eye searched about him for a sight of some shark, not one was visible, though the back fins of no less than four could be seen gliding about in the neighbourhood of the floating hutch on the far side of the boat. By making almost superhuman efforts the party on the rock managed to get abreast of Roylance just as he was half-way between the boat and a patch of rugged boulders which had seemed to promise foothold till help could reach him from above, and still the brave fellow swam on with the rope in his teeth, ring after ring slowly gliding out over the boat's side. "Now," cried Syd, as he grasped mentally the spot where his companion would land. "A man to go down." The sailor who had been his other companion on the day when Syd had attempted to explore the rock stepped forward, a loop was made in the rope, the man threw it over his head, and passed it below his hips. "Ready," he cried, and he was lowered down over the edge to be ready to give Roylance a helping hand, and try to make fast the line the latter was bringing ashore. "Ah!" shrieked Syd, suddenly, for it seemed to him that the end had come. For as he gazed wildly at his messmate, he saw that he was swimming with all his might, but making no way. Worse: he was being drawn slowly and surely out to sea, and the reason was plain; the rope that should have continued to give over the side had caught somewhere in the broken edge of the bulwarks, and all Roylance's risks and efforts had been thrown away. "Let go, and swim for it!" yelled Syd, and Roylance answered by throwing up a hand. "Can you see the sharks?" said Syd, half-aloud. "No, sir, not yet," said one of the sailors. "They're cruising about the boat." "Roylance--Roy! Let go of the rope and swim," cried Syd, in an agony of dread. But the young middy turned on his back, loosened the rope all he could, and gave it a shake so as to send a wave along it. This had no effect, for it was too tight, and to the honour of those on the rock they saw him deliberately turn and take a stroke or two back toward the boat before giving the rope another shake. This time it had its due effect, for the wave ran along the line and shifted it out of the rugged spot where it had caught, so that it once more ran out freely as Roylance turned to swim for the shore. "Hist! Don't make a sound," whispered Syd, as a murmur of horror ran through the group on the top of the cliff. For something had caught the eyes of all at the same moment. To wit, one of the triangular back fins, which had been gliding here and there about the coop on the far side of the boat, was seen to be coming round her bows, and the next thing seemed to be that the monster would detect the position of the midshipman, and then all would be over. In imagination Syd saw the voracious creature gliding rapidly toward Roylance, dive down, turn over showing its white under-parts, and then there was the blood-stained water, the wild shriek, and disappearance. But only in imagination, for as he made an effort all this cleared away from his excited brain, and the midshipman was there still swimming vigorously, and with a slow steady stroke, toward the rock, towing the line. But there was the shark between him and the boat, quite round on his side now. "Hadn't you better let go?" said Syd, in a voice he did not know for his own. "No," came back rather breathlessly, "there's plenty of line, Belt. I made the other end fast and--can't talk now." A sudden thought struck Syd. "I must not say any more," he said to himself; "a word would frighten him and make him lose his nerve. Here, quick! My lads," he whispered, "get some big lumps of rock ready to throw down." The men scattered, and in less than a minute they were back, and a little heap of stones from the size of a man's head downwards were ready at the edge of the cliff, where Syd was gazing down fifty feet or so at his friend, who still swam on toward where the sailor was waiting, and in happy ignorance of the nearness of one of the sharks. Syd could see right down into the clear water whenever the disturbance made by the lad's strokes did not ruffle the surface, and his starting eyes were plunged down into the depths in search of fresh dangers. "Oh!" he said to himself, "if he only knew how near that savage beast is! Swim, Roy, swim, lad! Why don't you let go of the rope and save yourself?" He dare not shout aloud; and though he was high up in safety, he felt once more all the agony of horror and fear which had come over him when he was himself escaping from a shark, and he shuddered as he heard a murmur about him, and the men stood ready each with a great stone. "Couldn't no one go and help him with a knife?" whispered one of the men. "Oh! look at that." "Hullo! Caught again?" cried Roylance, as the rope jerked. No one replied. It was as if their mouths were too dry to utter a word, for the party on the top of the cliff plainly saw the shark thrust the rope up with its muzzle and glide under it. Just then the horrible secret was out, for the sailor down below at the end of the rope shrieked out-- "Swim, sir! swim for it. One of those devils is coming at yer." Roylance was not a dozen feet from the speaker now, and they saw him give a violent start, and glance wildly over his shoulder. The fright did it. He could no longer swim calmly now, but began to throw out his arms hand over hand to reach the rock, splashing the water up into foam, and in an instant this brought the shark in his track. "Ready with the stones?" cried Syd, seizing one himself, and poising it above his head. The others obeyed, and what followed seemed afterwards almost momentary. The shark scented its prey, and came on steadily now toward where Roylance was struggling desperately. In another minute the poor fellow would have been seized, but a shower of great stones came whirling down in dangerous proximity to the swimmer, only one of which struck the shark, but that one with so good effect that it was for the moment disconcerted, and turned round as if puzzled. But directly after it saw its prey, went down, and rose in the act of turning over to seize its victim. But there's many a slip between the cup and the lip, even in the case of sharks. Many a one has had a knife ripping it open just as it has anticipated enjoying some juicy black; and others have had their prey snatched from their lancet-studded jaws, or tasted with it a hook. It was so here. Syd had hurled his stone, and was watching its effect before stooping for another, when he realised what the sailor in the loop below was about to do. "No, no," he cried, quick as thought. "No more stones, stand by with the rope." Syd threw himself down upon his chest and strained over the edge to watch what was going on, while, with the rapidity taught by discipline, the sailors seized the rope, and stood ready and waiting the next order. It was not for them to think for themselves, but to act as their officers bade, and Syd was already one whom they trusted and flew to obey. All this takes long to describe, but the action was quick enough. The sailor at the end of the rope had, as Roylance drew nearer, spun himself round rapidly till the loop was tight about him as he sat astride in the bight, and then he began to swing himself to and fro, describing a longer and longer arc till he found that he could reach. Then with a sudden desperate movement he flung himself forward and grasped Roylance round the waist, seizing the line the midshipman held with his teeth, too; and then as, with the horror of despair, Roylance exerted his failing strength to get a grip of the bight of the hanging rope, Syd loudly shouted-- "Now, my lads, run them up." It was just in time. In spite of the rocks and dangerous nature of the top of the cliff, the men, who had been waiting, started away from the edge, the rope hissed in running over the limestone, and Roylance and his brave rescuer were literally snatched up ten feet as the shark made its second attack, but only to fall back into the sea with a mighty splash. "Haul now!" cried Syd, excitedly, for the men could go no farther. "No, no, avast! avast!" came up hoarsely from between the sailor's teeth, as he and Roylance swung to and fro just above the maddened shark, which began to swim in a circle. "Stop!" roared Syd. "Can you hold on, sir?" said the sailor. "Yes," said Roylance. "Then here goes. Loose the line, sir." His hands were free, and he had taken the tow-rope now from his teeth. Hardly knowing what he did Roylance obeyed, and with the rapidity taught by much handling of hemp, the sailor passed the end of the tow-rope through the bight of that which supported them, and then sent it through again, and secured it with a knot. It was just in time, for as he drew through the end and tugged at it, the line began to tighten, and draw them out of the perpendicular, then more and more away from the rock as the boat still glided away. "All right, sir, I've got you now," cried the sailor, clasping Roylance about the waist. "Now then, get your legs 'cross mine, and put your arms round my neck and the rope too. That's your sort. Glad I saved your end from going after all that trouble." "Ready below?" cried Syd, as he looked down. "Well, no, sir," said the sailor, "I wouldn't haul yet, or t'other line might part.--Did you make it well fast aboard the boat, sir?" he continued to Roylance. The latter nodded his head, and sat gazing down, shuddering, at the shark. "Then you'd best wait, sir," shouted the man, as they were drawn up higher and higher, swinging gently like a counterpoise. "You see our weight eases it off like on the boat, and we may get her yet." It seemed possible, for its rate was checked, but the slow deliberate glide still went on a little, flattening the curve formed by the two lines extending from the deck of the boat to the top of the rocks, fifty feet above the sea. "One moment, Mr Roylance, sir," said the man, as coolly as if he were in the rigging of the ship, and not suspended by a thin rope over the jaws of a monstrous shark. "I want to get my legs round facing that cliff there. That's your sort. Now if your line gives way, as I'm feared it will--one minute: yes, the knot's fast; that won't draw--I say, if the rope gives way we shall go down again the rocks with a spang, but don't you mind; it'll only be a swing, and I'll fend us off with my feet. My! we're getting tight now. Look out, sir, we're going." But the rope did not break, for seeing how dangerous the strain was becoming, Syd ordered the men behind him to ease off a little, and then a little more and a little more, till the progress of the water-logged vessel was gradually checked, and as they felt that the worst of the strain was over, the men on the cliff gave a cheer. "Steady there, steady!" cried Terry, angrily, and the men murmured. "Silence there!" cried Syd. "Now, my lads, I think you may begin to haul." The men obeyed, and by the exercise of a great deal of caution the first rope was drawn slowly hand over hand up the cliff till Roylance's head appeared. Syd extended his hands to his help, and the midshipman climbed over the edge and sat down in the hot sunshine in his drenched clothes, looking white and haggard, as one looks after a terrible escape from death. The next minute the sailor was on the cliff, looking none the worse for his adventure, but pretty well drenched by contact with Roylance's dripping clothes. Then a little more hauling took place, till the men could get a good hold of the line Roylance had brought ashore, in the midst of which the latter suddenly sprang up, looked over the edge of the cliff, and catching sight of his enemy, he picked up the biggest piece of stone he could lift and hurled it down. It fell with a mighty splash in the water, and as chance had it, for little could be said for the aim, right down upon the shark, which turned up directly after, and then recovered itself and swam laboriously away. _ |
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