"Jimmy come 'long Ma.s.s Joe?" he said next.

"If they will let you," I replied; "but if they will not, go back to your own place quietly."

"Ma.s.s Joe no kind poor Jimmy," he whimpered. "Want kick um. Ma.s.s Joe say no."

"Wait till I tell you, Jimmy," I replied. "Now go quietly."

He made an attempt to accompany me, but the blacks seized him sharply and led him one way, me the other; and as the sun set and the darkness began to come on, I lay in my hut watching the boy and the tall painted chief talking earnestly together, for I could not see Jimmy's prison from inside my own.

I felt lighter of heart and more ready to take a hopeful view of my position now that my sufferings from my injuries were less, and that I had a companion upon whom I could depend. But all the same I could not help feeling that my position was a very precarious one. But when I was cool and calm I was ready to laugh at the idea about cannibalism, and to think it was the result of imagination.

"No," I said to myself as I lay there, "I don't think they will kill us, and I am certain they will not eat us. We shall be made slaves and kept to work for them--if they can keep us!"

As I lay there listening to the different sounds made in the village dropping off one by one in the darkness, I grew more elate. I was in less pain, and I kept recalling the many instances Jimmy had shown me of his power to be what he called "cunning-artful." With his help I felt sure that sooner or later we should be able to escape.

Drowsiness began to creep over me now, and at last, after listening to the hard breathing of the spear-armed savage whose duty it was to watch me, I began to wonder whether Gyp would come that night.

"I hope he will," I said to myself. "I'll keep awake till he does."

The consequence of making this determination was that in a very few minutes after I was fast asleep.

Just as before I was wakened some time in the night by feeling something touch me, and raising my arm for the first time made the faithful beast utter low whines of joy as I softly patted his head and pulled his ears, letting my hand slip lower to stroke his neck, when my fingers came in contact with the dog's collar, and almost at the same moment with a stiff sc.r.a.p of paper.

For a moment my heart stood still. Then, sitting up, I caught the dog to me, holding his collar with both hands, touching the paper all the while, but afraid to do more lest the act should result in disappointment.

At last I moved one hand cautiously and felt the paper, trembling the while, till a joyous throb rose to my lips, and I rapidly untied a piece of string which tightly bound what was evidently a note to the dog's collar.

Gyp whined in a low tone, and as I loosened him, grasping the note in my hand, I knew that he gave a bit of a skip, but he came back and nestled close to me directly.

I needed no thought to know that the note was from the doctor, who must be near. Perhaps, too, Gyp had been night after night with that same note, and I had been too helpless to raise a hand and touch his neck where it had been tied.

The doctor was close by, then. There was help, and I would once more be free to get back safe to my dear mother.

I stopped there and said half aloud:

"Not yet--safe to try once more to find him."

What was I to do?

I could not read the note. I opened it and moved my fingers over it as a blind person would, but could not feel a letter, as I might have known.

What was I to do?

Gyp would be going back. The letter would be gone, while the doctor might not know but what it had been lost.

What should I do?

There was only one thing, and that was to tie my handkerchief, my torn and frayed silk handkerchief, tightly to the dog's collar.

"He will know that I am here, and alive," I said to myself. "I wish I could send him word that Jimmy is here as well."

I tried hard to think of some plan, but for a long time not one would come.

"I have it!" I said at last; and rapidly taking off the handkerchief I tied two knots fast in one corner.

"Perhaps he will understand that means two of us," I said; and I was about to fasten it to the dog's collar, when there was a noise outside as of some one moving, and Gyp dashed away from me and was gone.

"Without my message," I said to myself in tones of bitter disappointment, as all became silent again.

To my great joy, though, I heard a faint panting once more, and Gyp touched my hand with his wet nose.

"I'll be safe this time," I remarked, as I rapidly secured and tied the knotted handkerchief, ending by fondling and caressing the dog, I was so overjoyed.

"Go on, dear old Gyp," I cried softly; "and come back to-morrow night for an answer. There, good-bye. Hush! don't bark. Good-bye!"

I patted him, and he ran his nose into my breast, whining softly. Then after feeling the handkerchief once more, to be sure it was safe, I loosened the dog and he bounded from me. I heard a rustling in the corner, and all was silent, while I lay there holding the note tightly in my pocket and longing for the day to come that I might read all that my friends had to say.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

HOW I HEARD ENGLISH SPOKEN HERE.

I suppose I must have dropped asleep some time, but it seemed to me that I was lying awake watching for the daylight, which seemed as if it would never come. Then I dropped soundly asleep and slept some hours, for when I opened my eyes with a start there was one of the blacks leaning over me with some cords in his hands, with which he seemed to be about to bind me; but a shout outside took his attention, and he went out, leaving me trembling with anxiety and crushing the note in my hand.

It was broad daylight with brilliant sunshine without, but my prison was windowless, and where I lay was in the shadow, save where here and there a pencil of light shone through the palm-leaf thatch and made a glowing spot upon the floor.

Every moment I expected to see my guard back again, or I might be interrupted, I knew, by the coming of some one with food. I dared not then attempt to read for some time, since it seemed like too great a risk of losing words that were inexpressibly precious.

At last all seemed so still but the buzz and hum of distant voices that I determined to venture, and undoing my hot hand I unfolded the little sc.r.a.p of paper, upon which, written closely but clearly, were the following words--

"_As we are so near a village of the blacks, and you have not returned, I have concluded that you have been made a prisoner. Gyp found your scent and went off, returning after many hours' absence; so I write these lines to bid you be of good heart, for we shall try by stratagem to get you away_."

Then there was this, evidently written the next day:

"_Gyp has been again and brought back the above lines which I tied to his collar. If you get them tie something to the dog's collar to show you are alive and well. Poor Jimmy went in search of you, but has not returned_."

"Tie something to the dog's collar to show you are alive and well!" I said to myself over and over again, as I carefully secreted the sc.r.a.p of paper--a needless task, as, if it had been seen, no one would have paid any heed to it. "And I have tied something to the dog's collar and they will come, the doctor and Jack Penny, with the blacks, to-night to try and save me, and I shall escape."

I stopped here, for the words seemed to be wild and foolish. How could they rescue me, and, besides, ought I not to feel glad that I was here among the natives of the island? What better position could I be in for gaining information about my father?

I lay thinking like this for long, and every hour it seemed that my injured head and my cut wrists and ankles were healing. The confused feeling had pa.s.sed away, leaving nothing but stiffness and soreness, while the message I had received gave me what I wanted worst--hope.

I did not see Jimmy that day, for he was not brought out, neither was I taken to the tree, but I saw that the savage who brought me food had a double quant.i.ty, and to prove that some of it was meant for my fellow-prisoner I soon afterwards heard him shout:

"Ma.s.s Joe come have 'nana--come have plantain 'nana."

This he repeated till I uttered a low long whistle, one which he had heard me use scores of times, and to which he replied.