CHAPTER VIII.

THE ATTACK IN THE FOG.

"They're coming. Hadn't we better see if we can pull off?"

Mr. Lakewood asked the question as he saw the leader of the navy, evidently having finished his oration, sit down and pick up a paddle.

"We'll try, but I doubt if we can move her yet," Captain Ole told him. "Back her up, Mr. Kelley," he ordered waving his hand to the man in the wheel house.

Almost at once the propeller began to turn, and in a moment it was beating the water to a white foam, but the Valkyrie did not budge an inch.

"No go yet," the captain shook his head.

The boats were now moving toward the Valkyrie, but it was evident to those on board that the natives were in no hurry to come to close quarters. Probably aware of the fact that their victims, as they undoubtedly already considered them, were unable to get away and, at the same time having a healthy respect for their weapons, the sound of which at least, they had heard, they had evidently determined to make the attack with as little danger to themselves as possible. So, instead of paddling directly toward the Valkyrie they began to spread out in a large bow.

"Just what I expected," Captain Ole growled.

"Meaning what?" Mr. Lakewood asked.

"They're going to surround us."

"They naturally would."

"Yep, I suppose so, but I hoped they wouldn't have brains enough to plan it."

He had already stopped the effort to float the boat, fearing to strain some part of the machinery, and all was quiet on board, as they watched the small craft drawing gradually closer.

"How about firing a few rounds over their heads?" Bob asked.

"It won't do any harm, I suppose," the captain replied, and an instant later they all fired together, emptying their revolvers as rapidly as they could pull the triggers. By this time the small boats were spread out in a semicircle and as the shots rang out, the paddlers stopped as though undecided whether to keep on or to turn back. But, after a few moments of indecision, evidently noting that no one had received an injury, the leader shouted an order and the paddlers resumed their work.

"Reckon we'll have to make a hit or two next time," the captain announced grimly. "That didn't seem to impress them much."

The sun had come up bright and clear, but for some time now a haze, which had been getting thicker and thicker, had obscured it, until now it was shut out entirely.

"The worst thing possible's going to happen, I'm afraid," Captain Ole said soberly as he glanced about him.

"You mean we're going to have a fog?" Mr. Lakewood asked anxiously.

"In less than five minutes."

"That's bad."

"It's death, unless we can pull off before they get to us," the captain told them.

By the time he had finished speaking, the fog had entirely shut out the view of the island and one by one the boats began to disappear, as though a curtain had been drawn down in front of them. In less than the time stated by the captain not a boat was to be seen.

"Better try the engine again," Mr. Lakewood suggested.

Captain Ole gave the order, but although the engineer raced the engine to the utmost, it was without effect and he was finally forced to give it up. "There's only one thing to be done," he announced. "We must station ourselves all along the sides of the boat and keep them from getting on. And we don't want to waste any more ammunition," he added grimly.

The crew scattered, to take the designated stations and the boys found themselves to places on the port side and about ten feet apart. Then there was nothing to do but wait. Slowly the minutes passed, and not a sound was to be heard save the soft lap of the water against the sides of the boat. There was no wind and the fog was now so thick that it was with difficulty that they could see each other. They had been cautioned against making any noise, so they did not speak.

"They can't see us any better than we can see them so we'll let them have all the trouble we can in finding us," Captain Ole had said.

"If only a breeze would spring up," Bob thought as he tried to pierce the dense fog and strained his ears to catch the faintest sound of an approaching enemy. On the other side of him he knew that Pat Barney was stationed, but he was unable to see him. The captain had ordered them to expose as little of their bodies above the railing as possible for fear that one of the poisoned darts might find a mark. "They can shoot the blamed things a good deal farther than you'd think, and they usually hit what they shoot at," he had told them.

It seemed to the boy that an hour must have passed, although a glance at his watch told him that it had really been but fifteen minutes since he had taken his post, when a sound reached his ears, from out of the gloom, which made every nerve tingle. It was, he knew, the soft dip of a paddle handled by one who knew how to dip his paddle and lift it with the minimum amount of sound. He knew the boat could not be more than twenty or thirty feet away and, as Captain Ole had ordered them to shoot at the first indication of the proximity of one of the boats, he pointed his revolver toward the sound and fired.

"Reckon I didn't hit anything but water," he thought as no commotion followed the shot.

But an instant later a quick gasp, coming from his right, sent a note of fear through his heart.

"What is it, Pat?" he asked darting to the man's side.

For answer the Irishman held out his right hand and, to his horror, Bob saw a tiny feathered dart sticking in the back of it. Without an instant's hesitation he pulled his knife from his pocket and, after yanking the dart out, he stuck the point of the keen blade fully three quarters of an inch into the wounded member. A spurt of blood followed the removal of the blade and, seizing his wrist he pressed with all his might, at the same time applying his mouth to the wound. Pat, who had seemed a bit dazed, now tried to pull his hand away, but Bob hung on and sucked and spat out the blood until no more came.

"How do you feel?" he asked as he finally took his lips away.

"A--a bit faint but sure an' it's nuttin'."

"God grant I got it in time," Bob prayed.

"Yees had better be gittin back," Pat stammered weakly.

"You think you'll be all right?"

"Sure I will."

Knowing that he had done all he could and that he ought to be at his post, Bob hurried inside where he found a water cooler and hurriedly washed out his mouth, and then went quickly back to his station. All this had occupied less than two minutes but, during that interval he had heard several shots from different parts of the boat, and realized that the native boats must be all around them.

But when he got back to his place all was quiet, and he judged that the shots had made the natives a bit cautious.

"Where you been, Bob?"

It was Jack's voice in a loud whisper.

"Pat got hit with a dart!"

"He did?"

"But I think I got it out in time. I sucked out all the poison I could. Are you all right?"

"Sure, but--"

"Keep down low."

"I know, but--"

"Better not talk now. Against orders, you know."

As he spoke, he noticed, for the first time, that the wind was freshening and, at the same time, that the fog was beginning to thin out quite perceptibly as he could now see Jack's outline as he crouched close to the rail. Whether it would be in their favor for the fog to lift just at that time, or whether it would favor the enemy, he was not sure, but he could not help a feeling of relief, as it would, at least, put an end to the awful uncertainty. A glance to his right told him that Pat was not in his place, and he wondered what had become of him.

The fog was lifting as rapidly as it had come, and soon he could see several of the boats, but they were not as close as he had feared.

"Reckon our fire made them pull off a bit," he thought.

"Don't fire," came the order in the captain's voice.

"But they're coming," Jack shouted at the top of his voice.

A glance told Bob that his brother was right. The boats were beginning to move and all in the direction of the Valkyrie.

"Everyone get inside," was the next order, and, wondering what it was all about, the boys ran for the big cabin.

"I'm going to try once more to start her, and there's no use in exposing ourselves to their darts if she goes off.

"And if she doesn't?" Mr. Lakewood asked.

"Then we'll have to get out and fight."

Even as he spoke the propeller began to churn the water astern, and it seemed that everyone held his breath as they waited the outcome.

"I reckon it's no--"

Captain Ole started to speak, but Jack interrupted him.

"She's starting," he shouted.

"I don't--"

"But I tell you she is. I felt her move," the boy insisted.

"Jack's right," Bob put in, glancing from the window.

"Right is right," Mr. Lakewood added, and a moment later there was no doubt about it.

Inch by inch the Valkyrie backed, as her powerful propeller bit into the water. But, even so, for a moment it seemed that it would be too late, for, before she was free from the clinging sands, three brown figures had climbed over the bow and reached the deck before being seen. But before they were half way to the cabin Jack spied them, and, taking quick aim, fired through the open door. With a wild howl of mingled pain and fear, the native dropped his blow pipe and rushed for the side of the boat, and without stopping, leaped into the water. His companions hesitated an instant, then, as Jack fired again, they too turned and disappeared over the railing.

"Three down," Bob sang out.

"But none out," Jack chuckled. "I hit the first one in the fleshy part of his leg and the other I didn't hit at all."

Just then the bow of the boat dipped sharply, and they knew that at last she was afloat.

"Three cheers," Bob shouted, and they were given with a will.

"And thank God," Mr. Lakewood added.

Slowly the Valkyrie backed for a short distance, and then, turning slightly, headed for the open sea.

"No one outside till we're clear," Captain Ole ordered, as one of the sailors was about to pass through the door. "They can't hurt us now if we keep out of the way of those darts."

As they saw their fancied victims escaping, cries of rage came from the boats all about them and, when they did go out a little later they picked up more than a hundred of the small but deadly darts.

"What if she hadn't come off?" Jack asked, as he and Bob were watching the small boats, now well behind them, as they made their way back to the island, having given up the chase.

"Well, she did, thank God, so what's the use of worrying?" Bob responded. "By the way," he added, "have you seen Pat?"

"Not since before we went inside."

"Neither have I."

"You don't suppose he fell over do you?"

But Bob was already half way to the cabin door. As he stepped inside, he heard a groan from one corner where a water cooler was located. As he sprang toward it, his eye caught sight of a figure stretched at full length on the floor and he knew he had found Pat. But the Irishman was unconscious when he lifted his head, and he noted that his hand and arm were badly swollen.

"Guess I wasn't quick enough after all," he said, as Jack joined him.

"Is he dead?"

"No, but I'm afraid he will be soon. Help me place him on the lounge, and then find the captain and uncle. They may know what is best to be done."

Jack was back in less than five minutes, followed by Captain Ole and their uncle. The captain quickly bent and placed his ear over the sick man's heart.

"It's ticking pretty slow," he said.

"Have we anything we can give him?" Mr. Lakewood asked quickly.

"What he needs is a heart stimulant and, thank God, we've got it."

The captain was half way to his cabin, before finished speaking, and they did not catch the last part of the sentence, but they knew what he was after.

"In a case of this kind, the main thing is to keep the heart action as strong as possible," he explained a moment later, after he had poured a few drops of the dark liquid down the sick man's throat. "But, if one of those darts got him, as I suppose it did, I can't understand why he wasn't dead before. That poison usually acts in less than a minute."

"Look at the back of his hand and you'll understand," Jack said.

"I see," Captain Ole beamed at Jack after a hasty inspection of the hand. "You sucked the poison out, eh?"

"No, Bob did it."

"Well, it doesn't make any difference who did it so long's it was done. It saved his life."

"You think he'll live?" Bob asked anxiously.

The captain again placed his ear over Pat's heart. "Yes, I think so," he told him, as he raised his head. "His heart's getting stronger."

In spite of the fact that Bob had sucked out so much of the poison, Pat had a very close call, but he pulled through, and in a couple of days was none the worse for his experience. It was a long time before he got through thanking Bob for saving his life, and he absolutely refused to listen when Bob tried to make it plain to him that he had taken no risk at all and that it was nothing for which he deserved so much credit.

"Faith an' it's meself as knows thot it didn't make much difference whether me life was saved or not, but thot's not the pint. Suppose fer instance, yer'd had a bit uv a scratch on one uv yer lips or in yer mouth. It'd a bin all day wid yees let me tell yer. An' it's meself as supposes you stopped long enough ter have yer mouth examined ter make sure as how it was all safe and sound, eh."

This was a long speech for Pat to make and he was sweating when he finished.

"Now, Pat, you know I didn't mean to imply that saving your life was nothing," Bob laughed. "And if I'd had a scratch in my mouth and known it why--er--it might have been different."

"Niver a bit uv it."

"You said it," Jack added.

"Well, it's over, and if you want to thank me you can do it best by never saying anything more about it. But there's one question I'd like to ask."

"Fire it."

"How did you get in there by the cooler where we found you."

"Faith an' it's meself as can't answer thot question. I remember feeling kinder funny jest after you left me, an then I didn't know nuttin' more till I was in bed."

It was the day following that on which they had run aground. The weather had continued fine and they had made several zig-zags but no more land had been sighted. Josh Kelley had been watched as closely as possible, but nothing had happened to increase their suspicions. It was evident to the boys and to their uncle and Captain Ole as well that the members were beginning to wonder what it was all about. Several times Bob and Jack had overheard two or three of them talking together and the object of the voyage was always the subject of the conversation.

It was while they were eating dinner that Captain Ole broached the subject.

"Somethin's going on among the crew that I don't just like," he told them.

"Meaning just what?" Mr. Lakewood asked.

"It's not easy to say just what I do mean, but I've a mighty strong suspicion that that man, Josh Kelley's been talking to them."

"You don't mean he's trying to get them to mutiny?"

"That's about the size of it, I'm afraid."

For some moments there was silence and then Mr. Lakewood asked:

"Have you anything to suggest?"

"Yes," Captain Ole answered without hesitation,

"Well, what is it?"

"Simply that you tell the whole crew all about what we're after."

"You think it's wise?"

"If I didn't, I reckon I wouldn't have suggested it."

"No, of course not, but--"

"It's like this," the captain interrupted. "I believe every man we've got except Josh is a good man, and straight as sailors go, but the best of them can't stand too much mystery, and we've been laying it on pretty thick lately, with all this zig-zagging back and forth."

"What do you think, boys?"

"I think the captain's about right," Bob replied and Jack nodded in agreement.

"So do I," Mr. Lakewood declared after a short pause. "Jack, suppose you ask Pat to have all hands on deck in ten minutes, and I'll make a little speech and tell them all about things."

Ten minutes later found the entire crew gathered on the forward deck with the exception of the first mate who was in the wheel house where he could hear all that was said. Mr. Lakewood lost no time, but at once began to tell the story he had told the boys some weeks before, although he cut it much shorter. He finished by saying:

"Now men you know what we're after. Of course we may not find a thing, but if we do, one half of everything will go to Captain Ole, the two boys and myself. The other half will be divided equally among you share and share alike. This, of course, will be in addition to your wages."

"Three cheers fer de boss!" one of the men shouted.

The three cheers were given with a will, after which Mr. Lakewood added:

"Of course, I expect perfect loyalty from you."

"And yer'll get it," several assured him.

As the cheers were being given, Bob chanced to look at the second mate, who was standing at the foot of the stairs leading to the bridge. He was joining in the applause but half-heartedly, it seemed to the boy, and there was an expression about his mouth which increased his dislike and suspicion as well.

"It'll be a wonder if we don't have trouble with that fellow before we get back," he told Jack a little later, after the meeting had broken up.

"Don't I know it," Jack replied.

At the same time Captain Ole and Mr. Lakewood were talking in the former's cabin.

"See here," the captain was saying, "it wasn't in the papers that I was to have a share in the treasure."

"I know it," Mr. Lakewood told him, "but you're going to all the same, that is, provided we find anything worth dividing.

"But--"

"No buts about it. The matter's settled," and before the captain could offer any further objections, Mr. Lakewood had turned and left the room.

And at the same time, a tall lanky individual scowled as he bent over a small box in his state room and muttered: "I reckon the old man's spiked my guns in that direction."