"I"ll follow you," whispered Don; and Jem began at once by changing his position a little as he went on eating. Then a little more, Don following, till they had placed a group of the miserable, apathetic-looking women between them and the warriors.
These women looked at them sadly, but made no effort to speak, only sat watching them as they crept on and on till they were close upon the rec.u.mbent figure which they had taken to be the tattooed Englishman.
"Why, if this is so easy, Mas" Don," said Jem, "why couldn"t we get right among the trees and make for the woods?"
"Hush! Some one may understand English, and then our chance would be gone. Go on."
Another half-dozen yards placed them close beside the figure they had sought to reach, and as he lay beside him, Don touched the poor fellow on the breast.
"Tomati!" he whispered, "is that you?"
The man turned his head feebly round and stared vacantly--so changed that for a moment they were in doubt.
But the doubt was soon solved, for the poor wounded fellow said with a smile,--
"Ay, my lad; I was--afraid--you were--done for."
"No, no; not much hurt," said Don. "Are you badly wounded?"
Tomati nodded.
"Can I do anything for you?"
"No," was the reply, feebly given. "It"s all over with me at last; they will fight--and kill one another. I"ve tried--to stop it--no use."
Jem exchanged glances with Don, for there was something terrible in the English chiefs aspect.
"Where are they taking us?" said Don, after a pause.
"Down to Werigna--their place. But look here, don"t stop to be taken there. Go off into the woods and journey south farther than they go.
Don"t stay."
"Will they kill us if we stay?" whispered Don.
"Yes," said Tomati, with a curious look. "Run for it--both."
"But we can"t leave you."
Tomati smiled, and was silent for a few minutes.
"You will not--leave me," he whispered, as he smiled sadly. "I--shall escape."
"I am glad," whispered Don. "But Ngati?--where is Ngati?"
"Crawled away up the mountain. Badly wounded, but he got away."
"Then he has escaped," whispered Don joyfully.
"Yes. So must you," said Tomati, shivering painfully. "Good lads, both."
"I don"t like to leave you," said Don again.
"Ah! That"s right. Don, my lad, can you take hold--of my hand--and say--a prayer or two. I"m going--to escape."
A thrill of horror ran through Don as he caught hold of the Englishman"s icy hand, and the tears started to his eyes as in a broken voice he repeated the old, old words of supplication; but before his lips had formed half the beautiful old prayer and breathed it into the poor fellow"s ear, Don felt his hand twitched spasmodically, and one of the chiefs shouted some order.
"Down, Mas" Don! Lie still!" whispered Jem. "They"re ordering "em into the boat again. Think we could crawl into the bush from here?"
"No, Jem; it would be impossible."
"So it would, lad, so it would; but as he said, poor chap, we must take to the woods. Think any of these would come with us?"
Don shook his head despairingly, as he longed to look in Tomati"s face again, but he dared not stir.
A few minutes later they were once more in the leading canoe, which was being urged rapidly over the smooth sea, and it was a long time before Don could frame the words he wished to say. For whenever he tried to speak there was a strange choking sensation in his throat, and he ended by asking the question mutely as he gazed wildly in his companion"s face.
"Tomati, Mas" Don?" said Jem sadly.
Don nodded.
"Ah, I thought that was what you meant, my lad. Didn"t you understand him when he spoke?"
"No--yes--I"m afraid I did," whispered back Don.
"Yes, you did, my lad. He meant it, and he knew it. He has got away."
Don gazed wildly in Jem"s eyes, and then bent his head low down to hide the emotion he felt, for it was nothing to him then that the English chief was an escaped convict from Norfolk Island. He had been a true friend and defender to them both; and Don in his misery, pain, and starvation could only ask himself whether that was the way that he must escape--the only open road.
It was quite an hour before he spoke again, and then hardly above his breath.
"Jem," he said, "shall we ever see our dear old home again?"
Jem looked at him wistfully, and tried to answer cheerily, but the paddles were flashing in the sun, and the canoe was bearing them farther and farther away to a life of slavery, perhaps to a death of such horror that he dared not even think of it, much less speak.
CHAPTER FORTY THREE.
A SEARCH IN THE DARK.
Two days" more water journey within easy reach of the verdant sh.o.r.e, past inlet, gulf, bay, and island, round jagged points, about which the waves beat and foamed; and then, amidst shouting, singing, and endless barbaric triumphal clamour, the captured canoes with their loads of prisoners and spoil were run up to a black beach, where a crowd of warriors with their women and children and those of the little conquering army eagerly awaited their coming.
Utterly worn out, the two English prisoners hardly had the spirit to scan the beautiful nook, through which a foaming stream of water dashed, at whose mouth lay several large war canoes, and close by which was the large open _whare_ with its carven posts and grotesque heads, quite a village of huts being scattered around.
Similarly placed to that which he had helped to defend, Don could see upon a shoulder of the hill which ran up behind the _whare_, a great strongly made _pah_, ready for the tribe to enter should they be besieged by some enemy.
But the whole scene with its natural beauty, seemed accursed to Don, as he was half dragged out of the canoe, to stagger and fall upon the sands--the fate of many of the wounded prisoners, who made no resistance, but resigned themselves to their fate.
A scene of rejoicing ensued, in the midst of which fires which had been lighted as soon as the canoes came in sight, were well used by the women who cooked, and before long a banquet was prepared, in which three pigs and a vast number of potatoes formed the princ.i.p.al dishes.