VANDERDECKEN

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 530, 6 December 1928, Page 5

VANDERDECKEN

By

H. DE ERE STACPOOLE.

CHAPTER XVIII (Continued) The waning moon had not vot risen, hut the stars were beginning to blaze, and against them the peak of San Nicolas with its cloud top looked like a giant with a turbaned head. Through the windless night the wash of the wavqs on the beach came clear, rhythmical, slumbrous, like the pulse of the sleeping sea. Hank had got his men into the boat; he took the pistol handed to him by Candon, and the ammunition. Then, *'ith a glance at the deck, where Charley was in charge, lie led the way overside, and the boat pushed off. "You’re sure of the Chinks?” asked George in a whisper as they rowed. "Sure," replied Hank. “I’ve told them they've only got to shout and I'll give five dollars to the chap that shouts the loudest. I tipped them that these guys have got an American girl with them and that the American Government will plaster them *‘ith dollars if we get her away. Oh, they’re right enough. Now, not a out of you all when we get to the beach. Just follow B.C. and hold your breath for the shouting.” The boat grounded on the soft saud and they tumbled out. hauled her up a few feet and Hank, taking a small lantern he had brought with him. lit it and placed it on the sands close to the bow. Then they started. Europe in the van, Asia in the rear. •* The rocks were soon reached. The rocks just here are easy to negotiate, great flat-topped masses rising gradually from the bay side to a summit that falls as gradually to the sands of the bay beyond. When they reached the summit the blaze of two fires on the beach showed oht close together, their light blending in an elliptical zone, beyond which the tents hinted of themselves. "The Chinks are round one, the w hite chaps by the other,” said Candon. “Couldn’t be better, for we’ve got them divided. Now then, you chaps, follow me and do as I do—and for the love of Mike don’t sneeze. Got your guns handy? That's right.” He began the descent. Then when they reached the sands he got on bands and knees. Scarcely had he done so than the notes of a guitar came through the night from the camp of the white slavers and the first -words of a song. They could not make out the words, but they could tell at once that the singer was neither American nor English. The high nasal voice spoke of Spain, where tne cicadas shrill in the J-'ane trees in the heat-shaken air. “Dagoes," said Hank.

’'Come on." said Candon. Then, had anyone been watching, across the sands toward the zone of firelight six forms might have been seen crawling liker to land crabs than the form of men or beasts. The Chinks around their fire were broken up into parties playing games and smoking. By the white man’s fire sat the guitar player on a camp stool, the light full on his sharp profile, another man leaning on his elbow lay smoking cigarettes, and a woman seated on the sand, an elderlylooking woman of Jewish type, was engaged in some sort of needlework and her hand, as it moved, seemed covered with rings. George thought he had never beheld a more sinister-looking trio. The girl was nowhere to be seen. George, Hank and Candon put their heads together. “She's in one of the tents.” whig-! pered 8.C., “tied up for the night most like.” “Shall we rush them now?” asked Hank. “Yep, get your guns ready. Look! There's the girl! Now then, boys!” The girl who had just left the most seaward of the tents stood for a moment with the vague light of the fire touching her. She was very small. To George, in that halfmoment she seemed only a child, and the sight of her contrasted with her captors came to them as though timed to the moment. The beach blazed out with noise, the ear-splitting explosions of the Luggers and the yells of the attackers swept the man on the sands to his feet. George saw, as one sees in a dream, the whole of the Chinese casting cards and dice and flying like leaves driven by the broom of the wind. He had a vision of Hank downing the cigarette smoker, then j he got a swish on the head from a j guitar and was rolling on the sands | with a man who was shouting, “Hell, j hell, hell!” punching him to silence' while the woman with nails In his { neck was trying to strangle him. I screaming all the time till Hank dragged her off. crying: “We've got the girl—kim on—kim on! We’ve got the girl!” Then the nightmare! shifted and he was running, Candon in front of him with something on his shoulder that struggled aud fought and screamed for help, then j he was stumbling over rocks. Hank [ helping him. Hank laughing and j whooping like a man in delirium. ; and shouting to the stars: "We've j

got the girl! We’ve got the girl!” Then came the glow-worm glimmer of the lamp by the boat, and the boat with them all crowding Into it, Chinks and all. and the musky smell of the Chinks, the push off and a great silence broken only by the oars and Candon’s voice crying. “Lord! she’s dead!" and Hank's voice, “No, she ain’t, only fainted.” The Wear Jack's side with Charley showing a lantern, the getting on board with their helpless bundle, and the vanishing of Candon with lier down the companion way to the saloon, then and only then did things shake hack to reality, while Hank took both George’s hands in his. “80. we’ve done it,” said Hank. “We sure have,” said George. Which was a fact—if they only had known. CHAPTER XIX. —A SEA FIGHT Meanwhile the Chinks with absolute imperturbability and under the orders of Charley were getting the boat on board. As it came on deck Shan appeared. “She’s come to,” said Shan. “I’ve stuck her in the bunk in the after cabin, but she’s so rattled she won’t speak —just lays there. Hurry up with the anchor, you boys. Listen!” From shoreward through the night came sounds far-away shouting and then the throb of a gong. "Those guys are collecting the hatchet men.” cried Hank. “They’ll maybe try and cut us off from the next bay—there was a boat on the sands. Lord! and I’ve dropped my Lugger." "I've got mine," said George.

“Mine's in the cabin,” said Shan, “get the windlass going and I’ll Mart the engine. Give me a call when the mud hook’s up and look sljppy.” He dived below, and as he d.i'ved a loose hunt of sail puffed out ‘and a breeze from the nor’-west laid its fingers on the cheek of Hank,. “Wind’s coming,” crieci Hank. “Leave the windlass, get to the halyards. Hi! Charley there,"took alive, man. Your throat and peak halyards —Bud, lay forward and get the gaskets off the jib.” lie rushed to the hatch of the engine-poo m. “Shan, below there! Wind’s coming, I’m getting sail on her, that? damned junk will lay for us sure and I’m not trusting the engine any.” Ale rushed back to the wheel and stood whilst the mainsail, fore and jVo were got ou her. Then came tb e sound of the winch and the ancJaor came home, whilst the slatting canvas filled and Hank turned the spokes of the wheel setting her on a course south by east. Shan’s head boljhed up from below. "I can’t get the durned thing to go,” | said he. ! “Never mind,’ ’ said Hank, “the ! wind’s fresheniMg.” As he spoko It breezed up strong, the main-shee/c tautened aud the boom lifted as the 'sails bellied hard against i the stars ay d the -Wear Jack leaned over to it, ’boosting the ebony water to snow. Shan toc.k the wheel from Hank. "It’s bafi luck we have to run right past them,” said he as the next bay opened, j showing the junk lit up as if for a festival and the fires on the beach. “Th<yy'll have had time to collect

their wits and man the junk and they’ll know it’s not the police.” “Oh. we’ve got the heels of them," sand Hank. “Hope so,” said the other. “Look! they’re getting sail on her.” In the dim light the vast lug sail of the junk could he seen rising, and even before it fully took the wind,, she was moving. “They’re rowing!” cried George. “Look! they’ve got the sweeps out!” Shan looked. The fag-end of a moon rising over the hills of California showed now clearly the junk putting out to sea ahead of them, the flash and movement of the sweeps, the gi'eat lubberly lateen sail being trimmed and the foam dashing from the bow. “They've got us,” said Hank, “get your ’guns ready if it comes to boarding. Where’s yours, S.K.? Down in the cabin? —one sec.” He dived below. Then he came up again. “Cabin door’s bolted.” “Whach you say?” cried Shan. “Cabin door’s bolted, can't get in—” “Maybe it’s stuck,” said Shan. "Don't bother with it, we've no time for fiddling, lay hold of something to bat these chaps with if they try and board. Hell! but she’s racing—that junk." I She was. Urged by wind and oars, ! making ahead to hit the course of j the Wear Jack at an acute angle, she i seemed to bound to do it. “What’s her game?” asked George. ! “Foul us, get broadside on and board j us.” replied Shan. How’d it be to put her about and j get. her on a wind?" asked Hank. “No use, going about would give her lengths—those junks shoot up into

the wind like all possessed and the sweeps help—leave her to me.” The Wear Jack kept on. Racing now almost parallel —the junk ahead with sweeps drawn in, the two boats held only half a cable length apart. They could see the junk’s deck swarming, the hatchet men, now that they had got their courage were voicing it, and yells like the strident sound of tearing calico came mixed with the wash of the waves and the beating of a gong. Closer they got, still closer, the Wear Jack gaining j under a strengthening flaw of the j wind. Then, with a shout and with a lightning movement, Shan, to the | horror of the others, put his helm | hard over. The Wear Jack checked, , shied just like a horse, and with a thunder of slatting canvas, and rattling blocks, plunged at the junk, ramming her abaft the chunky mast. The fellow at the steering sweep shifted his helm to get clear, the junk forged to starboard and the bowsprit of the Wear Jack, like a clutching hand, snapped stay after stay, bringing the great sail down like a Venetian blind over the crowd on deck. “We’re free,’’ shouted S.K., “bowsprit’s half gone. No matter, get forward, Hank, and clear the raffle!” Then as the Wear Jack forged j ahead, the Kuro Shiwo drifting her' faster than the junk, the wind took 1 her sails. “They aren’t sinking, are they?” ! cried George. “Sinking—nothing.” replied S.K., turning his head. “They'll get back ashore with their sweeps. If they i were, it'd be a good job. What's the damage, Hank?” ' Boh stay gone. ' came Hank’s voice.

“Bowsprit seems all right —Lord, it’s : a miracle.” Then he came aft, having set j Charley and the Chinks on repairs. “S.K.”, said Hank, “you’re a marvel. What put it into your nut to do it?" “It came to me,” said the other, “They’d have done it to us in another tick, got fast and downed us. Hit first—that's my motto.” "Well,” said Hank, “you’ve done it.” Away back in the moonlight across the heave of the sea they could make j j out the dismasted wreck floundering , ! like a drunken thing, listing to starboard with the weight of her broken j wing, gastados, out of the running— J done for. CHAPTER XX. —DOWN BELOW, j George and Hank went forward to superintend the work of the Chinks on the bowsprit; Shan, at the wheel and well content with the work of the night, felt thirsty. There was no one to fetch him a drink —tea was what ' he fancied, and thinking of tea made 1 him think of the tea things which | were in the cabin. Then he re- ; membered what Hank had said about the cabin door being closed. It occurred to him now that the girl had bolted the door. No doubt the j poor creature was half crazy with ' fright. It had not occurred before 1 to the ingenuous and benevolent S.K. that the girl must look on her new i captors as more terrible than even the white slavers. The yelling and i the -shooting, the stampeding of the camp, the way she had been seized, i caught up and carried off —why, what must she think of them! L'p to this he had been too busy to think himself. It was only now, as Hank would have

said, that the thing suddenly hit him | on the head like an orange, j “Hank!” shouted S.K. i ‘‘Coming,” replied Hank. He came aft. ; “I’m thinking of the girl down below, it’s she that’s most likely fastened the door, she’s most likely scared out of her life the way we ve ! took her off and not knowing who we are.” | “Sure.” said Hank, i “She nearly tore my head oft as 1 ■ was carrying her —1 remember getting 1 a cat out of a trap once, it acted just the same —scared —” “Listen,” said Hank, who was stand ing close to the cabin skylight. The skylight was a bit open and fastened from inside; through the opening came sounds as of someouc moving about. “She’s moving,” said the other | “She’s got over her fright. Down with y#u. Hank, and get her story, tell her I'll be down when George ! comes aft, tell her she’s as safe with us as she’d be with her gran-mother.” Hank descended. Shan heard him knock—then his | voice. "Halloo there.” Silence. "Halloo there." Then came a determined little voice, i “Clear off—l’ve got a pistol—” Shan, listening, remembered the Lugger pistol he had left on the cabin , table. Then Hank's voice; “Don't be scared, com'n’ open the door, don't be scared.” The Voice: “I'm not a person to he scared —you ought to know that." I (To be continued*