Perhaps they were already on board in overwhelming numbers. Poor girl, she murmured a prayer while she hurriedly drew on her boots and ulster.

There seemed to be no end to the evils which a.s.sailed the _Kansas_, and she dreaded this new terror more than the mad fury of the seas. But, if the men were fighting for their lives and her's, she must help, too.

That was clear. She had a weapon, a loaded revolver, which she had picked up from beneath a boat's tarpaulin lying on the spar deck. She opened her door and peered out. She could not see any one, and the rattle of a hail-storm overhead effectually dulled any other noise.

But several shots fired again in the fore part of the ship were audible above the din of the pelting hail. So she ran that way, with the fine courage of one who fears yet goes on, and her eyes pierced the shadows with a tense despair in them. For what could so few men do against the unseen watchers who sent up the thirty-four smoke columns she had counted?

Ah, trust a woman to read the unspoken thought! Courtenay and Christobal and Tollemache need not have striven to couch their warnings in ambiguous words. Elsie could have told them all that was left unsaid at breakfast. The ship had fought her own enemies; now the human beings she had saved must defend themselves from a foe against whom the ship was helpless.

CHAPTER IX

A PROFESSOR OF WITCHCRAFT

Quickly as Elsie had reached the deck, the warlike sounds which disturbed her rest had ceased. Save for the footsteps of men whom she could not see, the prevalent noises were caused only by wind and sleet.

While she was hurrying forward as rapidly as the darkness permitted, the lights were switched on with a suddenness that made her gasp. The dog began to bark again, but it was easy to distinguish his sharp yelps of excitement and defiance from the earlier notes of alarmed suspicion.

In fact, Joey himself was the first to discover the stealthy approach of the Indians. Courtenay and Tollemache, who took the middle watch, from midnight to 4 A.M., had failed to note the presence of several canoes on the ink-black surface of the bay until the dog warned them by growling, and ruffling the bristles on his back. The night was pitch dark; the rising moon was not only hidden by the hills of the island, but frequent storms of rain and hail rendered it impossible while they raged to see or hear beyond the distance of a few feet. In all probability, as the canoes bore down from windward, Joey had scented them. He also gave the highly important information as to the quarter from which attack might be expected. Three men, at least, had gained the deck, but the prompt use of a revolver had caused them to retreat as silently and speedily as they had appeared. That was all. There was no actual fight. The phantoms vanished as silently as they came.

The only external lights on the ship were the masthead and sidelights, hoisted by Courtenay to reveal the steamer's whereabouts in case one of the boats chanced to be driven into the bay during the dark hours.

There was an electric lamp turned on in the donkey-engine room, and another in the main saloon, but means were taken to exclude them from showing without; if the Indians meant to be actively hostile, lights on board would be more helpful to the a.s.sailants than to the a.s.sailed.

When the captain and Tollemache followed Joey's lead, they discerned three demoniac figures, vaguely outlined by the ruddy glare of the port light, in the very act of climbing the rails. They fired instantly, and the naked forms vanished; both men thought they heard the splashing caused by the leaping or falling of the Indians into the sea. By the same subdued radiance Courtenay made out the top of a pole or mast sticking up close to the ship's side. He leaned over, fired a couple of shots downwards at random, seized the pole, and lashed it to a stanchion with a loose rope end, a remnant of one of the awnings. A small craft, even an Indian canoe, would be most useful, and its capture might tend to scare the attackers.

Telling Tollemache to mount guard, he raced back to the saloon hatch and summoned a.s.sistance. The others searched the ship in small detachments, but the Indians were gone; it was manifest that none beyond those driven off at the first onset had secured a footing on deck. Then, taking the risk of being shot at, Courtenay ordered the lights to be turned on, and the first person he saw clearly was Elsie.

He was almost genuinely angry with her.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

She was learning not to fear his brusque ways. He was no carpet knight, and men who carry their lives in their hands do not pick and choose their words.

"I thought you were in danger, so I came to help," she said calmly.

"You must go back to your cabin at once."

"Why? Of what avail is the safety of my cabin if you are killed?"

A woman's logic is apt to be irritating when one expects a flight of arrows, or, it may be, a gunshot, out of the blackness a few feet away.

"For goodness' sake, stand here, then," he cried, seizing her arm, and compelling her to shelter behind the heavy molding which carried the bridge.

She did not object to his roughness. In the midst of actual peril, impressions are apt to be cameo-cut in their preciseness, and she liked him all the more because he treated her quite roughly. Of course, the mere presence of a woman at such a time was a hindrance. But she was determined not to return to her stateroom, and, indeed, her obstinacy was reasonable enough, seeing the condition of affairs on board the _Kansas_.

The captain quitted her for a moment in order to dispatch a Chilean sailor for a lantern and a long cord. He wished to investigate the captured canoe.

Christobal, who had made the round of the promenade deck, came up.

"Oh, were you here, too?" he asked, on seeing the girl.

"I _am_ here, if that is what you mean," she cried. "I heard Joey barking, and the shots that followed. Naturally, I wished to find out what had happened."

"Sorry. I imagined you were sleepless, like myself, and had joined Courtenay during his watch. That explanation must have sufficed. In any case, we have other things to trouble us at present."

Elsie had never before heard the Spaniard speaking so offhandedly. She gave small heed to his petulance; aroused from sound slumber by the alarm of an Indian attack--thrilled by the horror of the thought that she might fall into the clutches of the callous man-apes which infest the islands of southwest America--she was in no mood to disentangle subtleties of speech.

"Do you think they have left us?" she murmured, shrinking nearer to the iron shield which Courtenay seemed to think would protect her.

"Personally, I have seen no reason whatever for such a hubbub," was the flippant answer.

It was evident that Dr. Christobal was annoyed. Notwithstanding his conventional polish, he was not a man to conceal his feelings when deeply stirred. Yet Elsie failed to catch his intent, other than that he was adopting his usual nonchalant tone.

"But something must have caused Captain Courtenay and Mr. Tollemache to fire their revolvers so frequently. And, if they were mistaken, the dog would not have shared their error. Besides, one of the canoes did not get away. See! Its mast is fastened there."

"Ah! I had forgotten Tollemache. He was selected to join the captain's watch, of course."

"Yes, I was present when the watches were formed. Have you seen Mr.

Tollemache? Is he safe?"

"He is among those making the round of the ship. I hope you will forgive me."

"Forgive you! What have you done that calls for forgiveness?"

"There are errors of speech which equal those of conduct, Miss Maxwell."

"Oh, what nonsense--at one in the morning--when we are threatened by savages!"

Christobal was relieved that she took this view of his abrupt utterances. He thought the incident was ended. He was mistaken; Elsie was able to recall each word subsequently. At the moment she was recording impressions with uncomprehending accuracy, but her mind was quite incapable of a.n.a.lyzing them; that would come later.

The lantern was brought. Courtenay stood on the lowermost rail, and carefully paid out a rope to which the light was slung. He was far too brave a man to take undue risks. He was ready to shoot instantly if need be, and, by his instructions, Tollemache and Walker kept watch as best they could in case other canoes were lying close to the ship.

Any doubt in this regard was dispelled in a singular manner. The flickering rays of the lantern had barely revealed the primitive craft lying alongside when a voice came from the depths, crying in broken Spanish:

"Don't shoot, senors--spare me, for the love of heaven! I am a white man from Argentina."

Christobal and Elsie alone understood the exact significance of the words. Courtenay, of course, knew what language was being spoken, and it was easy to guess the nature of the appeal. But the lantern showed that the canoe was empty. In the center lay the Fuegian fire, its embers covered with a small hide. The pole, fastened to a cross-piece in the thwarts, was not a mast, but had evidently been shipped in order to give speedy access to the deck by climbing.

Then Courtenay caught sight of two hands clinging to the stern of the canoe. He swung the lantern in that direction, and an extraordinary, and even an affrighting, object became visible. A caricature of a human head was raised slightly above the level of the water. It was crowned by a shock of coa.r.s.e, black, knotted hair, tied back from the brows by a fillet of white feathers. An intensely black face, crossed by two bars of red and white pigment, reaching from ear to ear, and covering eyelids, nose, and lips, was upturned to the watchers from the deck. The colors were vivid enough, notwithstanding the sheets of rain which blew in gusts against the ship's side, dimming the dull light of a storm-proof lamp, to convey a most uncanny effect; nor did Courtenay remove either his eyes or the revolver while he said to Christobal:

"Ask him who he is, and what he wants."

The answer was intelligible enough.

"I am a miner from Argentina. I have been among these Indians five years. When their attack failed, I thought there was a chance of escape. For pity's sake, senor, help me instantly, or I shall die from the cold."

"Have the Indians gone?" asked Christobal.

"Yes. They thought to surprise you. When they come again it will be by daylight, as they are afraid of the dark. But be quick, I implore you. My hands are numb."

There was no resisting the man's appeal. A rope ladder was lowered, and a Chilean sailor went down in obedience to the captain's order, though he disliked the job, and crossed himself before descending. He pa.s.sed a rope under the fugitive's armpits, and, with aid from the deck, hoisted him aboard. The unfortunate miner gave proof of his wretched state by promptly collapsing in a faint, with a sigh of "Madre de Dios!"

His only garments were a species of waistcoat and rough trousers of untanned guanaco hide. The white skin of his breast and legs, though darkened by exposure, showed that he had told the truth as to his descent, notwithstanding the amazing daubs on his face. His hair, stiffened with black grease, stood out all around his head, and the same oily composition had been used to blacken his forehead, neck, and hands.