UTU
By
TUA-O-RANGI.
CHAPTER XXXIII. IN THE PLACE OF SKULLS —FROM THE OTHER WORLD —SEEKING EGRESS—A HAPLESS WIGHT. i J-LLp days had elapsed since the fortuiI ! tons event which resulted in the lodgment of the man of many aliases within / (w®®) B ’ the cave by the seashore, and he had not y et rec overed consciousness. Nightly had he been visited by his valet, who pillowed his head, covered his limbs with warm rugs, and devoted the long hours of darkness to watching by his side, and administering remedies designed to allay internal pain, and gradually overcome the shock his system must have sustained. Arnaud had made a thorough examination without finding any material fractures save those near the wrists, although both hands were terribly smashed and swollen. The valet, however, seemed to consider them not worth a second thought, merely curling his lip as he took in the fact that the shapeliness on which the owner had prided himself was spoiled for ever. So far the wretched man had lain as his factotum placed him, an inert mass, too sunk in stupor to make the least movement of body or limbs ; but on the third night a restlessness set in, an uneasy writhing of body, a quivering of the heavy limbs, as though he were awaking to pain. He muttered, too, from time to time inarticulately, and again fell into stupor. So on during the early hours of the night. Then he began to dream, horrid dreams to judge by his contortions and incoherent mutterings—not, strange to say, about the dreadful circumstances immediately preceding his present sorry plight, but of events farther gone. He seemed to be going over confusedly the last dreadful scenes of his life with Eleanor Radcliffe, and he who had never known the voice of conscience was evidently now in his helpless misery undergoing its torturingaccusations. As the slow minutes passed vision chased vision through his awakening brain, and at last, with a cry of agony, as though Nemesis had laid his heavy hand upon his shoulder, he awoke, and sat bolt upright, staring about and trying with dazed eyes to peer through the sepulchral gloom, at the same time wondering vaguely how he came there. The air was chilly, and an unpleasant musty odour saluted his nostrils, but the darkness allowed him to distinguish nothing of his surroundings. The endeavour to recollect, to recall something which should explain to himself his position, fatigued him, and mechanically he raised his hand to press his aching brow, but the sudden uplifting of the injured limb sent a thrill of pain shooting through evennerve, just as a rush of recollection brought back the awful sensations which preceded his fall. And now cruel pains began to make themselves felt through his bruised and shaken body, while his fractured arms, and worse st il 1, the st i Hand tin tended handscaused h imacutest agony. Where was he ? And what ailed him ? His physical anguish almost took away the power of thought, but still the questions obtruded themselves. He spoke, and his hollow tones were given back in startling echoes. He stretched out his arms but they came in contact with nothing. He tried to feel the material of the floor beneath him, but his swollen and lacerated fingers had lost all sense of touch. He essayed to rise, but the attempt to aid his enfeebled nether limbs with the superior caused him such horrible pain that he fainted away. When he came to again, some time subsequently, his lodging was no longer absolutely dark. A pale flickering light threw into relief dark broken walls, and lost itself in inky shadows. Nowhere about him was any object clearly defined, and whether he was in a dungeon, cave, or ruined hall, he could not determine, although he ap-
plied to the question all the wit which awoke with him. A resinous suffocating odour blent with the sickly smell which he had noticed before, but look which way he would he could not discern from whence the faint light proceeded. With difficulty he again sat up, trying hard to make out objects. Presently a creepy feeling came over him. Was it fancy, or were those really deathsheads over there in a row grinning at him ? He must be dreaming again surely, and he closed his eyes for an instant, opening them wide the next to make sure. Deaths-heads! unmistakeably, deathsheads ! and beneath them skeletons ! one, two, three, four—Good God ! there were dozens of them ! What was this ? Where was he ' His brain reeled. The skeletons seemed coming toward him. Certainly they moved, or was it the play of the uncertain light, which wavered strangely ? Where was he ? Had he been thought dead and placed in a tomb ? He had heard of Maori cave tombs, aud, as in the midst of hisagony past events, remote and near, trooped in mental review, he concluded himself incarcerated in one of these Golgothas. Had he previously taken more pains to be accurately informed, he would have known better, but his knowledge of Maori institutions was limited, and his mental condition hazy. While he glared, with starting eyeballs and twitching muscles, at the fleshless forms paraded in front of him, the light became fainter, the heavy shadows grew blacker yet, and scarce by straining his eyes to the utmost could he perceive his skeleton companions. Terror thrilled him. The light uas fading out. Great beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead. It was bad enough to find the dead bearing him company, but to be alone with them in the dark- —Horror ! His nerves had been terribly shaken, and doubtless he missed his cognac, for his ordinary stoicism, his scoffing courage, had vanished completely. He had quite forgotten it, and beside himself with affright, he again attempted to rise. But at the moment his attention was caught by a faint distant gleam of bluish light, opposite to him, but at a considerable distance, in the heart of a desert of blackness. The light was curious, and it instantly rivetted his gaze, so that he forgot his intention, his neighbours, and indeed all save itself. It was not the small flame of lamp or candle, but a luminous cloud, as it were, in the midst of the thick darkness ; and as he gazed, it slowly advanced towards him, not lighting up the darkness, but gleaming through it, plainly enough, but cold and pale. And now he could have sworn its form was changing. It seemed to lengthen and grow slighter, and still, with an almost imperceptible motion, it drew near, and ever nearer. Surely it was a female form, tall and ghostly, with trailing robes of woven light. What could it' be ? On, on it came, straight towards him, but lingeringly, as a summer cloud floats through the languid air of noon. All around was blackness. Even the grinning skulls and erected skeletons were invisible, but it seemed to grow whiter as it came, not with the cheery light which, shedding its rays abroad, brightens surrounding objects, but with a cold, opalescent gleam which accentuated the darkness ; and as with stiffening hair and starting eyes the unhappy man awaited its closer proximity he recognized it—not a flame, nor a nebulous cloud, nor a will-o’-the-wisp, nor any of the fantastic suggestions of his brain—but his wife, the murdered Eleanor ! In soft flowing draperies such as she wore when last he saw her, only gleaming now as with a phosphorescent light, gliding like a phantom, towering above him like the queen of a ghostly realm. Yes, it was she. She halted within half-a-dozen paces of him. He could see her clearly—her robes of snowy white, her falling tresses of raven blackness, her glittering eyes, and regal aspect. But her
face was sternly set, and her eyes like those of a basilisk. She compelled his gaze ; her look appalled him. and yet he could neither faint nor flee, but cowering there in physical anguish and mental prostration, he knew himself at her mercy. He would fain have covered his face to shut her out from his sight, but she held his eyes pitilessly. From the other world she had come, he felt— the other world in which he had never believed, at which he had scoffed profanely. He had left her dead, he was sure of that, yet here she was confronting him, but like no creature of flesh and blood. Slenderer, more ethereal than Eleanor Radcliffe had ever been, she appeared preternaturally tall, ami her translucent robes were gleaming with unearthly lustre. Here, too, in this abode of the dead, of all places ! All this and more passed swiftly through his distempered brain, as his strained eyes answered her piercing gaze. His head was in a whirl, and his blood seemed to turn to lead, but his eyelids dared not fall. Not a sound, not the faintest rustle had so far broken the awful stillness. In silence befitting the tomb, like a dumbly accusing spirit she stood over him, pitiless and cold as one who dwelt among shadows. But suddenly a sound fell on his ear, the sound of weird laughter. Ha-ha ! Ha-ha-ha ! The effect was appaling, for instantly from every recess and gallery came back the hollow echoes, until his reeling brain was convinced that hisun welcome presence had interrupted a ghostly carnival, for surely a legion of spirits would be needed to keep up that uncanny merriment, cruel, cold, mocking, unearthly. The sounds grew fainter presently, and even more ghostly, until at length they died whisperingly away in the gloomy distance. His blanched cheek had become ashen, his muscles twitched convulsively, but she, whose eyes had never wavered, still held his enchained. And now she spoke in sepulchral tones, attenuated (if the phrase may pass) as her spirituelle form. ‘ So, Jacques le Blanc, we have met again.’ Like the touch of icy steel her tones chilled his blood and he shivered. ‘ Thou tremblest, unworthy wretch !’ she went on, ‘but fear me not yet. Thy race is not quite run. Thou shalt drain the cup of earthly anguish, and then, when thou callest upon death to deliver thee, then, blood-stained soul shall thy punishneent begin. In life thou hast called evil good and good evil, but after death will come retribution, and vainly then shalt thou plead for pity—thou who hast shewn none —and in thy anguish call upon the rocks to hide thee from infinite wrath, for thou art already condemned, and those who shall gather round thee in the spirit world whither thou hastest, will laugh at thy calamity, and mock at thy fears. She ceased, and once again, but louder, shriller, more fiendishly derisive, rang out that awful laughter, Ha-ha ! Ha-ha-ha ! and as peal after peal reverberated through the sombre galleries-, the guilty sufferer sank back heavily in a deathlike swoon. ******* Hours might have passed; it seemed to himself that ages had done so ere consciousness returned to the wretchedman. Wearily, languidly, heawoke, remembering nothing at first, but presently recalling all the horrors of his recent experiences and present position. The cave was once more in total darkness, and its faint cold odours chilled and sickened him. One thought above the dreadful sensations evoked by memory possessed him. It was how to find a way out of the charnel house. To seek it might involve fresh perils, but remain stationary he could not. No possible horrors could exceed those he had passed through, and death, ay, hell itself was preferable to waiting quietly there for Aer reappearance. Painfully he raised himself once again into a sitting posture. Blindness might have overtaken him for all he could see, and his arms were worse than useless ; in their present disabled condition they were actual encumbrances. But after a bit he got on his knees, and in this way, with variations, shuffled some distance, but his progress was necessarily slow in the extreme, and he was tortured by the ever present fear that in the darkness he might be turning his back on the entrance, and thus literally leaving salvation behind him. The darkness continued, but after some time he was conscious of a change in the atmosphere. It was colder, and certainly purer. Surely then he must be nearing the entrance. He trembled with hope and again shuffled on. Once or twice he managed to stand for a moment, but weakness soon brought him to his knees again, and feverishly he strove to hasten on. At last he halted and tried to think calmly. The fresher air was undoubtedly coming from above, and yet he could detect no opening, not a chink through which it could come. Better perhaps to wait awhile. Possibly it was night in the outer world. If so light might reach him in time. If not, better here, though it was very cold, than breathing the offensive air of his former resting place, where horrible skeletons grinned at him in the awful darkness. But as he crouched, fearfully waiting for signs of the dawn, he thought he detected the sound of water—of water breaking against rocks, breaking gently, laplapping with a soft monotonous flow. He raised his head, listening intently. Yes, there was no doubt of it. The sound was muffled, but it was unmistakeably the wash of the tide. He must still be by the sea shore then. But now a new dread assailed him. He had no idea either as to how he had been brought to the cave, nor what time had elapsed since his capture at Motu Arohia, and fancying that this might be the first tide since, he wondered nervously how high it would rise, and whether the cave were beyond inundation. Truly life did not offer him much just now, and yet he shrank appalled at the thought of dying. He waited, listening, with impatient eyes turned upwards towards the fresh incoming air. By and bye over his head a faint band of dull grey light appeared, and as he rose eagerly to his feet in his joy at the sight, a streak of golden sunshine shot athwart the rocky roof above him and vanished, its evanescent gleam making the darkness seem deeper than before. His dazzled eyes closed despairingly, and he sank down disheartened, but finding after a time that still a little dim light was struggling in, heplucked up heart, andessayed to clamber over the rough rock masses which interposed between
it and him. Had it been sufficient to illumine his path, the bulk of his difficulties would have vanished, but the feeble ray was lost in the gloom overhead, and the task of dragging himself upwards over obstacles he could but half see, and without the aid of his hands, was one of incredible difficulty. He had really reached the entrance to the cave, and when at length the difficulties of climbing the rocky slope were over, he found an aperture wide enough to give him egress. But the outer cave, the vestibule, as we have called it, was full of water. The tide, still rising, would in a few minutes be above the external opening, and then of course utter darkness would again set in for a spell. The swift passing gleam of sunshine was now explained. Phcebus had just risen immediately opposite, and a ray from his chariot wheels had darted through the low entrance and across the rocky roof, bearing hope to the hapless wight within. Every dancing wavelet reflected back the morning glory, and even within the outer cave the weary watcher, benumbed and miserable, could see it sparkling as he looked longingly down, But even as he looked the irrepressible waves rose higher and higher, they lost their glitter, grew sad and grey, the soft light faded, the waters outside lap-lapped against the stony wall above the entrance, and within the place of the dead darkness which might be felt once more reigned supreme. CHAPTER XXXIV. THE FISHING PARTY —MANAWAOROA BAY—THE WAR DANCE. As indicated at the close of the last chapter, the sun rose gloriously on the morning of the eventful day appointed for the meeting at Manawaoroa Bay of the fishing party invited by the chief Takori. The few filmy clouds which, glowing rosily, added grace to his advent, melted before his golden beams until not a solitary fleck remained upon the azure sky. The June air had a delightful crispness in it which brought a sparkle to the eye and a glow to the healthy cheek; otherwise the season might have been supposed summer, so warm the sunshine, so bright the foliage, so serene nature’s every aspect. The captain and party were in high spirits, as, about half an hour after sunrise, their boat glided past the Mascarin, and they merrily returned the grave salute of Lieutenant Crozet. He had taken care to be on deck in order once more to remonstrate against what he conceived to be misplaced confidence on the part of his superior officer. For himself, he had never been prepossessed with the natives, and viewed the free and easy intercourse between the races which had latterly prevailed with anything but approval, and, as prejudiced eyes can always detect the symptoms they seek, so recently the lieutenant, although without actual grounds for his suspicions, had fancied he discerned signs of latent treachery in every move of his brown neighbours. As it turned out, for once his premonitions were justified and terribly ; but he had cried ‘ wolf’ so often, and with so little cause, that the sanguine commandant onlylaughed cheerily at his last warning. ‘ Crozet is becoming a veritable croaker. You must see to his liver, mon ami,' he cried to the doctor, and all the party joined in the laugh as they sped lightly away to —their doom. About the same time that the captain's boat left his ship’s side, a light canoe containing three figures emerged from a distant inlet and shot forward as if to intercept it. The two paddlers, despite their lusty arms, were evidently females, but the third person, sitting motionless, completely enshrouded in flaxen wrappings, might have belonged to either sex for all that could be seen of face or form. Boat and canoe passed within a few feet of each other, exchanging salutations, the dark eyes of the shrouded figure swiftly scrutinising each occupant of the other craft. A gasp of relief escaped from the muffled lips as they fell astern, and the canoe skimmed away in the direction of Motu Aroliia. As Captain du Fresne’s boat entered Manawaoroa Bay its appearance was greeted by- loud cries of welcome, and on nearing the beach a crowd of officious gesticulating slaves darted waist deep into the water, contending with each other for the honour of hauling it ashore. Back from the beach on the sward a large number of warriors, bedecked with paint and feathers, sat motionless wrapped in their mats looking gravely on, and here and there small clusters of notables stood-—with spears and clubs grasped tightly, and resting on the ground—in apparently stern confabulation. The gaiety of the pakeha party was a little dashed by the serious aspect of the warriors, but as the canaille were even more vociferous than usual, and seemed boiling over with glee, the absence of any welcome on the part of the masters was not supposed due to lack of hospitality. They were most likely, the captain suggested, still preoccupied by the religious exercises they had probably just gone through. He knew that fishing was in the eye of the Maori a sacred act, and as such preceded by religious observances, and he only regretted now that he had arrived on the scene too late to witness these.
Too polite to interrupt the proceedings, the Frenchmen stood at a short distance from their boat, waiting for their host’s advance. Meanwhile the slaves, in exuberant spirits, chatting, laughing, grimacing, capered round them, jostling them rudely, remarking upon their individual peculiarities, handling their garments, and cracking enigmatical jokes evoking noisy- mirth, until the captain, notwithstanding his good humour, had to rebuke their unwonted familiarity, remarking as he did so that the rascals must have been drinking. To escape their unpleasant proximity the visitors had gradually fallen back upon the sloping sward, and now stood at some distance from the water’s edge. The tide was about full, and their boat high and dry. Takori came to them at last, followed by several rangatiras, and expressed his pleasure at seeing them. His people, he said, had all been busy making ready. The ovens were built, and soon the fishing would begin, after which would come feasting. They had been praying, he said, and consulting their oracles. The omens were favourable ; God approved their actions. The baits would not
fail; not a fish would escape. But he had promised his pakeha friends a war dance. Now was a verygood time. The day was vet early. If the visitors approved the dance should precede the fishing. Of course the visitors ‘ would be delighted,’ etc., etc., and at a given signal the body of warriors squatting on the ground sprang to their feet, tossed off their mats and fell into position, and, Takori leading, in a few minutes the whole dark company, lately so self-contained and serious, resembled fiends let loose from the nether pit more than human inhabitants of this beauteous earth. Their goggling eyes, fearful contortions, deep inspirations, horrid outcries, and maniacal gestures were trulyappalling, and as with violent yet measured steps they steadily approached towards the white strangers, these involuntarily fell back, momentarily fluttered at their menacing aspect, which truly was enough to make the stoutest heart quail But the captain rallied his companions : ‘ Keep your places, my friends,' he said. ‘ Recollect this is but play. Let not our dark friends think us faint-hearted.’ But even as he spoke the pakeha group was surrounded. Nearer pressed upon them those naked, wildly moving figures ; nearer came those dreadful visages. The hot breath of a hundred savages blew like a sirocco in their white, scared faces, a hissing as ot serpents sounded in their ears, rows of white teeth snapped together, fiery tongues shot out like darts, and finally with an awful whoop, whose blood-curdling echoes resounded through the bay, the furious savages launched themselves with club and spear upon their helpless unarmed visitors, and ere the last reverberation had died away the kindhearted commandant and his gay companions were in another world. (TO BE CONTINUED.)
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Graphic, Volume XII, Issue XIII, 31 March 1894, Page 304
Word Count
3,760UTU New Zealand Graphic, Volume XII, Issue XIII, 31 March 1894, Page 304
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Acknowledgements
This material was digitised in partnership with Auckland Libraries. You can find high resolution images on Kura Heritage Collections Online.