Published 2017
All rights reserved
TABLE OF CONTENTS
I. — CAPTAIN WOODHAM'S MARVELLOUS TALE
II. — THE CROWN OF THE BLACK OPAL
III. — THE MYSTERIOUS CHANNEL
IV. — A HIDDEN CITY
V. — THE RED FIREBALLS
VI. — THE FATAL MIST
VII. — THE TREACHEROUS ISLAND
VIII. — THE RIVER OF DEATH
IX. — LORONTO STRUCK DOWN
X. — A FLIGHT BY NIGHT
XI. — THE MAN IN THE CAGE
XII. — A DARING ADVENTURE
XIII. — THE GUARDIANS OF THE TREE
XIV. — CAPTURED!
XV. — DEMUNDAH
XVI. — IN THE ARENA
XVII. — FRIENDS IN NEED
XVIII. — RALPH'S RUSE
XIX. — A SURPRISE
XX. — HOW RALPH ESCAPED
XXI. — A NIGHT MARCH
XXII . — THE TOWER BY THE SHORE
XXIII. — THE FIRST ATTACk
XXIV. — IN DESPERATE STRAITS
XXV. — THE SECRET PASSAGE
XXVI. — A GREAT NAVAL BATTLE
XXVII. — THE END OF THE FIGHT
XXVIII. — THE LAND BEYOND THE "BARRIER"
XXIX. — AGRELDA THE TERRIBLE
XXX. — KING ALMANDA
XXXI. — THE STORMING OF THE CASTLE
XXXII. — THE SECRET OF THE RIVER
XXXIII. — A GENEROUS OFFER
XXXIV. — THE GOLDEN TEMPLE AGAIN
XXXV. — THE HONOURABLE SOCIETY OF FROGS
XXXVI. — HOW THE PRISONERS WERE SAVED
XXXVII. — TRAITORS
XXXVIII:—DEMUNDAH'S AWFUL FATE
XXXIX. CONCLUSION
"Well, here I am, Lorry! Now tell me what on earth is the meaning of your mysterious message! Why, man, how serious you look! What's up? Anything wrong?"
Thus spoke, or rather shouted, Ralph Playfair, a tall, muscular youth, with a bright, good-looking face, and merry eyes, as he came bursting in upon his chum. Even while speaking his eager eyes roved about scrutinising everything around, as if he thought he might gather some notion of what was "up" by scanning the furniture.
The one addressed as Lorry was also tall and athletic-looking, with a handsome face and a splendid figure. The two young fellows had been at school together, where they had left behind them "records" in athletics, by the performance of feats which were likely to live as traditions in the school so long as it remained in existence.
Lorry, though a little taller, appeared to be rather the younger of the two. He was a veritable young giant; darker in complexion, and somewhat more thoughtful in manner than his volatile, high-spirited friend. But if Ralph was slightly less in height he was broader and sturdier in build, and looked, with his fair, curling hair and laughing eyes, a typical Britisher.
"To-morrow, Ralph," said Lorry, stretching his muscular arms, and taking a deep breath, "to-morrow I shall be twenty years of age—so I'm given to understand, and——"
"Is that all—why you might have told me that in your letter without bringing me all this way! Well, good-bye. I'm awfully pleased to hear it, and, maybe, to-morrow I'll look in again."
"And to-day," continued Lorry, disregarding the interruption, "Captain Woodham, my dear, kind, foster-father, has promised to tell me my own history—who I am, what I am, and where I came from—of which, as you are aware, I've known no more than the man in the moon.
"Further, the Captain has intimated to me that I shall have to make up my mind about a very important matter—to come to a momentous decision about something or other. So, as you are the best friend I have in the world—next to him—I asked permission for you to be present to hear the wonderful communication—for wonderful I understand it is really to be. The hints he has already let drop are enough to rouse the curiosity and fire the imagination of even a wooden image were they whispered into its wooden ears. Now, will you stay, or are you still in such a hurry to be off?"
"I'll stay, you bet! And I guess I shan't have to wait long, for here comes the Captain himself, and I can see he's bursting with the secret. See how tight his reefer looks on him to-day!"
As Ralph spoke, a big, burly figure, with the unmistakable rolling gait of a seaman, passed the window of the little cottage by the sea where this conversation took place. They heard the outer door open and shut, and a moment later Captain Woodham strode into the room.
He stood for a moment in the doorway looking at the two without speaking. He was almost Herculean in build; his form filled up the whole doorway, and he had to stoop as he came through it. In manner he was bluff, but hearty and honest-looking, and though his seamed and weather-beaten complexion and grizzled hair and beard made his face, when in repose, appear hard and stern, yet, when he spoke, his eyes would often twinkle with a light that was half-kindly, half-humorous.
"Ah! So you're here, Ralph," he said, and he extended his hand and took that of the visitor in a grasp which made even that young athlete wince. "You've come to hear the yarn I've promised to tell to-day, eh? Well, first, give me your promise that you'll regard it as a sacred confidence about which you're never to breathe a word to a living soul without permission. Then give me time to light my pipe, and I'm ready."
Ralph gave the assurance required and presently, when the three were seated round the table, the Captain started his pipe, took a few preliminary puffs, gazing thoughtfully the while through the window out over the sea, where the afternoon sun was nearing the horizon, and began his promised "yarn":
"It had been just such an afternoon as this—only far hotter, with a more fiery sky—that I lay becalmed in my ship, the Foam, in the Caribbean Sea—or rather upon the outer edge of what is known as the Sea of Sargasso—that is 'Sargasso Weed.' I don't suppose you youngsters know where that is. In school geographies they don't say much about it—"
"I've heard of it," Ralph put in. "An old sailor once told me something about it. He said that it is a most strange, mysterious region, a vast, desolate expanse——"
"Desolate! It's the most desolate spot on earth," broke in the Captain, bringing his fist down on the table to emphasise his words, "unless, perhaps, it may be the Polar regions—and as to its being mysterious—well, wait till ye've heard my story, then ye'll allow there's mystery enough to make a dozen ordinary sea yarns sound weak and commonplace by comparison.
"I'd been trading among the West Indian Islands, but had met with bad luck, and consequently I wasn't in a very good temper when the wind fell light and I found myself drifting about just outside that dreary waste of Sargasso Weed."
"Tell me what it's like," Lorry asked. "I don't quite understand."
"It's a tract," the Captain proceeded to explain, "many thousands of square miles in extent, where the sea appears to be, for the most part, comparatively shallow, and it is everywhere covered with a tangled mass of Sargasso weed brought down originally by the well-known Gulf Stream. No doubt there are rocks just under water, or, maybe, just awash in places, to which the weed clings. But you can't tell what is there or what isn't, really, because the weed is so thick, nobody can go far into it to see. You can't get very far beyond the outer edge or fringe. People who have tried to penetrate into it have got stuck fast and nearly lost their lives. Precious glad they were—and precious lucky too—if they managed to struggle back to open water again."
"Then," said Lorry thoughtfully, "no one can tell what there may be in the middle of this great tract?"
"Precisely," was the Captain's answer, and as he spoke he looked hard and curiously at the young man. "There may be inhabited land there," he continued slowly, "for anything that the rest of the world can tell. For all that our geographers know, there may be a thriving country hidden away in its midst, filled with the survivors of some ancient, long-forgotten race, who, through the slow accumulation of weed brought down by the great Gulf Stream during successive ages, may have been cut off from all communication with the outer world for a thousand years or longer."
"By Jove! What a fascinating idea!" exclaimed Ralph, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "What a wonderful field it opens up to the imagination! What a chance for some fortunate explorer!"
"Ye're right there, lad, it is so," returned Captain Woodham with the same slow manner and curious look. "Is it the sort of adventure that would tempt you, d'ye think, if it were shown that there was any reasonable ground for suspecting the existence of such a country at the present day?"
There was no hesitation in giving a reply to this query, and no doubt as to its sincerity. The two listeners were as one, and declared they would only be too delighted to meet with any chance of joining in such an adventure.
The Captain eyed them both keenly, but made no comment; and resumed his narrative:
"It was after a very hot day, as I have said, that I found my vessel drifting almost without enough wind to give us steerage-way upon the very verge of this vast sea of weed. As the sun set, a mist had closed in upon us; but presently the moon rose. It was nearly full, and was gloriously brilliant, shining with a splendour that one finds only in the tropics. Then the mist cleared away almost entirely, and I saw before me a wide, open channel stretching right away up into the expanse of weed till it was lost in the haze which still hung over the extreme distance.
"Now this in itself was a remarkable discovery; for no sailor or navigator knew of such a channel or had heard of such a thing, so far as I was aware. But there was something yet more surprising to come.
"The night had become one of the most beautiful I ever remembered. Save, as I have said, for the distant horizon, everything was exceptionally clear. The moon hung above, poised in a cloudless sky of deepest blue, and shone straight down the strange channel, from which its bright rays were reflected as from burnished glass. Looking through my glasses I could make out distinctly numbers of the vessels which are at all times to be seen entangled in the weed. They are derelicts, for the most part, which have been abandoned at sea, and which, after perhaps years of lonely drifting, find here their final resting-place. Scientists account for this by telling us that the whole Atlantic Ocean is revolving slowly round and round, like a gigantic whirlpool, of which the Sea of Sargasso is the centre. Hence, numbers of vessels which have been abandoned hundreds—thousands—of miles away, if they should fail to sink at sea, are drifted, sooner or later, into this centre, and once there the weed seizes on 'em and holds 'em fast. And, strange to say, when there they do not seem to rot and go to pieces as they would elsewhere. Some suppose that the weed impregnates the water with some preservative principle; and no doubt, in any case, it lays hold of the timbers and binds 'em, and so helps to preserve the hulks. Also, where the weed is no waves can break, or foam and tumble; and in a general way there is not much wind. It is a region of calms and fogs and desolation, and there are no forces at work to aid in the break-up of these derelicts. So there they are, by the hundred, and by the thousand, some of 'em of very ancient build and rig; so that it is quite possible to believe there may be some foundation for the yarns which declare that old Spanish galleons are still to be met with there, laden with gold and treasure, if one could only get at them.
"Well, all the old yarns of this character that I had ever heard came crowding into my mind as I stood on the deck staring in stupid wonder at the long, clear strip of open water running right into the midst of the weed. Here, I thought to myself, is a means of testing some of these old legends. It might be worth while to get a boat out and row up yonder channel and investigate.
"And then, while I gazed and marvelled, there came into view, in the distance, a dark speck floating down the channel towards the sea, evidently drifting upon a current which was flowing in our direction.
"By degrees the speck increased in size, and I watched it through my glasses with intense curiosity, for it seemed to me that it was gradually assuming the shape of one of those ancient war-galleys of past ages of which one sees pictures in books.
"As it came nearer, this curious idea forced itself more and more upon my mind. I could see that the queer craft had a very high, curved prow, with the open jaws of some terrible monster by way of figure-head. It was battered and war-worn, and yet, somehow, appeared to be still strong and serviceable. Indeed it might very well have belonged to one of the navies of the ancient world when Greeks and Romans fought their sea-battles in vessels of somewhat similar design.
"Slowly, silently, the strange, weird-looking craft drifted on its way. Very uncanny, very ghostly, it seemed, floating there in the bright moonlight; and again there rushed into my mind various wild tales I had heard, at various times, as to the mysterious unknown region from the heart of which this queer, old-world vessel must have somehow escaped.
"Just as I was calculating how long the queer vessel might take to reach the open water where the Foam then was, a puff of wind blowing across the channel drifted it to the side, where it became entangled in a thick mass of weed. It seemed then pretty certain that its voyage was ended, and that if I wished to make closer acquaintance with it, it would be necessary to get out a boat; and I accordingly ordered one to be lowered.
"A few minutes later I was on my way in my gig, with a couple of stout rowers, to overhaul the stranger. So far, there had been nothing to indicate that there was anyone aboard of her; nor did it enter my mind for one moment that there was likely to be. My idea was that she was just a queer old relic of ancient days which had been entangled in the weed, and, after being thus strangely preserved for goodness only knows how many years, she had now somehow accidentally broken loose and drifted down towards the sea. As an antiquarian curiosity, the find might be worth looking at, and even, perhaps, worth securing and taking back to England. But beyond that I had no expectation of meeting with anything to pay for the trouble I was taking.
"In this frame of mind I approached the relic, and I was surprised to find that she was much larger than I had imagined. As we drew alongside I stood up and tried to peer over her side, so high was she out of the water. Finding I could not see much that way, I climbed up; and, without more ado, sprang on board.
"The next moment I had almost jumped hack again but that wonder held me fast; and I remained staring down in horror and astonishment at the scene that was there revealed!"
Captain Woodham paused for a while and remained silent and contemplative, as though the remembrance of the scene he had spoken of had still power to call up some unusual emotion in his mind. His listeners also remained silent, waiting with eager interest for what was to come.
"What I then saw," the narrator presently went on, "was so unexpected, so unaccountable, so utterly bewildering, that even now, at times, I find myself almost wondering whether it really happened or whether the whole affair was not a troubled dream.
"At such times I have to remind myself of the solid proofs of its reality which still exist. They, as you will presently learn, are too tangible, too real, for a doubt to exist in either my own mind or in that of anyone else who may come to know the true facts.
"What I saw, then, was this: I saw that the vessel I had boarded was in very truth a war galley built upon the ancient model. She had two decks, the lower one being for rowers. Lying about on the upper deck were several dead bodies."
"Dead bodies!" cried his hearers in a breath.
"Aye, dead bodies! That sounds queer enough, doesn't it—but queerer still, they were nearly all dressed in armour."
"Armour!" burst from the two eager auditors.
"Yes, armour! Beautiful armour, too! Wonderfully worked and inlaid with gold and silver. One man thus attired had evidently been carrying a banner of a deep red tint, with some device worked upon it in gold. He still clung to this with both hands, and he and his flag had fallen together upon the blood-stained deck. He had been killed by an arrow which had buried itself in his breast.
"There were three other dead bodies, all dressed in armour, and all bearing evidence that arrows had caused their deaths. One of them was a very fine, handsome-looking man, quite a giant in stature, and evidently a chief. His
face was swarthy but by no means dark, and the features were refined and noble-looking, even in death. He was wearing the richest armour suit of any; from his shoulders hung a crimson cloak fastened by a diamond clasp
which sparkled and flashed in the moonlight. His sword was of great size and weight, indicating that he must have been of immense strength, and this, and a dagger at his belt, were set with precious stones. Beside him was a circlet or light crown of gold which seemed to have fallen from his head with his helmet. I picked this up and looked at it. What it was like I will tell you later—or rather you will see for yourself, Lorry—-"
"See for myself?" Lorry repeated wonderingly. "Why speak of me in particular?"
"You will hear directly. Just as I was handling the crown, I heard a cry as of a little child, and then a groan. Startled at these sounds I looked about and saw yet another prostrate form lying huddled up under a bench. I went to it and turned it over, and found a man dressed very differently to all the others, in a very plain, yet most bizarre costume, principally leather and a sort of coarse canvas. Stooping down, I found that his heart was still beating. At once I tried to move him further out on to the deck so that I might succour him the better, and as I did so I found that he had in his arms what looked like a bundle of wraps. With some difficulty I unclasped his arms and got it away from him. As I gently removed it there was another cry, the bundle unrolled, and disclosed to my astonished and bewildered gaze a little child!"
"Great Scott! What next, I wonder?" Ralph exclaimed.
"I took the child up and examined it; it was very richly dressed, and appeared to be unharmed. I called to my assistance one of the men I had brought with me, and he took the infant while I poured some brandy from my flask into the mouth of the man who was still alive. In a little while he revived sufficiently to be able to open his eyes, but was still too weak to speak. With the help of my men we moved him into my boat, and the child also; and then it was that I noticed certain signs which I knew to be the sure forerunners of one of those storms which, in the tropics, often spring up with unexpected suddenness.
"My two sailors noticed them also, and in spite of their interest in the derelict galley and its ghastly burden, they did not hesitate to urge an immediate return to the ship. The names of these two sailors, by the way, were Dan Oatly and Peter Roff—good, honest, trustworthy fellows, both of them. I mention their names on account of what has occurred since.
"'Theer's a sea mist a-comin' up, Cap'en,' I remember Dan Oatly, one of the two, saying, 'an' if we don't slip back to the ship pretty quick, we'll likely miss her altogether.' The wisdom of his advice was undeniable. Already the wind was beginning to moan over the desolate tract; and I decided, very reluctantly, that we must leave the galley where she was and trust to being able to return to her again when the storm had passed over. She was too heavy for us to attempt to take her in tow in the circumstances; and my gig was too small to take the dead bodies on board. There was nothing to be done, therefore, but leave them for the time where they were. I slipped back, with Dan, to examine them again, to make quite sure they were really dead; and then we rowed off as hard as we could, and only reached our ship in time. A few minutes later We were surrounded by a thick, driving mist, and had to make for the open sea to avoid being blown into the weed by the rising wind.
"The storm which followed proved to be a more serious affair than we had expected; it turned out to be a tempest of a character very unusual in those parts. For days we battled with it; and when finally it passed, and we were able to return to seek for the galley, all trace of it or of the open channel had disappeared, and we found no sign of either. Vainly we cruised about, examined through our glasses all we could see of the expanse of weed, and searched, with the boats, for an inlet. All our efforts failed, and we had at last to give up the quest and come away; and it thus came about that we never set eyes again upon that queer old craft, or its unfortunate occupants.
"Meantime, of the two we had rescued from her—the child and the man—the former throve famously, but the latter never really rallied. He was clearly sinking gradually, and seemed too ill to rouse himself to speak lucidly, though he sometimes mumbled incoherently in a tongue unknown to anyone on board.
"One day, however, there came a change. I could see it directly I went into the cabin where he was lying. I saw the light of reason in his eyes, but I also read there that he was not long for this world. Then came another surprise—he addressed me in English!"
"In English!" exclaimed Ralph. Both the young men had been listening with eager attention, too interested to interrupt the narrator with comments.
"It sounds strange," said the Captain, "and you can understand how astonished I was, but that particular matter was easy of explanation. He was an English sailor, he told me, and his name was Jackson. Some six years previously the ship he had been sailing in had been wrecked in the same neighbourhood as that in which we had found him, and he and his two companions had floated about in an open boat in a thick fog. When the fog cleared they found they had somehow drifted up an open channel which was surrounded on every side by the weed. Not knowing which way to go, they had followed up the channel in the wrong direction, going farther and farther away from the sea, until they came to a large expanse of open water in the very heart of the vast tract of weed. Here they came upon an altogether unknown country, where they met with adventures so strange that I should hesitate to tell you of them if I had not received every reasonable proof of the truth of the statements made to me."
Then followed an account of some of the adventures which had befallen the man Jackson and those with him. The worthy Captain had written them down at length, it seemed, as Jackson had narrated them, and he now showed the manuscript to the two young fellows. It is not necessary to give it all here, or to repeat the expressions of amazement and other comments, or the questions and answers which, from time to time, interrupted the narrative.
Briefly, the marvellous tale declared that the three sailors had lived for six years amongst an unknown race of people who inhabited a country hidden away in the very heart of the Sea of Sargasso. That they had at first been treated as slaves there, but that this particular sailor had latterly been made a servant of the reigning King, and accorded a certain amount of liberty. Then a revolt had broken out amongst the King's subjects, and the monarch had been obliged to fly and hide himself with a remnant of his followers in a remote district. From there, for a period, a sort of desultory, guerrilla warfare had been carried on with varying fortunes. At last, however, the King's party were surprised and once more reduced to hasty flight. The King himself embarked with his only child—an infant in arms—and a few followers, of whom Jackson was one, in a galley, but they were followed by two of their enemies' vessels, and a running fight ensued. The King and his companions were all killed by arrows; while Jackson was desperately wounded and became unconscious. The last he remembered was that a mist came up and separated the combatants, and he supposed that the pursuers had thus been prevented from capturing the galley. Then the rowers, finding that their leaders had all been killed, had probably taken the vessel to the nearest land and there deserted her, careless, or perhaps ignorant, of the fact that the bundle which was so tightly clasped in Jackson's arms was the still living infant son of their King.
Subsequently, the deserted vessel, with its helpless occupants, must have floated away and got caught in the current which had at last carried it to the place where Captain Woodham had met with it,
"And you, Master Lorry, or rather I should now say, Loronto—for Loronto is your true name," concluded the worthy captain, "you are the child I took from that drifting galley. It was your father I saw lying there with a great arrow through his heart. Sorry, very, very sorry I was, when I learned all this, that I had not been able to give him and his faithful followers decent burial. And I'm sorry, too, that, little thinking we should not have another chance, I did not bring away more than I did. I, however, took off his scarlet cloak to wrap you in, and brought away the diamond clasp by which it was fastened, the jewelled dagger at his side, the circlet I told you of, and a belt. These things I have carefully preserved; and to-day I shall hand them into your keeping."
Thus saying, Captain Woodham rose and went to a safe which stood in a corner of the room. Opening it, he unlocked an inner drawer and took out some parcels carefully wrapped in leather. Removing the covering of one of these, he displayed to view a slender crown of beautifully worked gold, in the front of which was a magnificent black opal, surrounded by diamonds and rubies worked into curious devices. Then he broke the seals of a quaint old belt and poured out from it a whole pile of treasure, consisting of small nuggets of pure gold, amongst an astonishing collection of diamonds and all kinds of precious stones. They lay there in a glittering heap beside the crown.
Both the young men had remained silent after the captain had concluded his story. Lorry, or, to give him his true name, Loronto, was lost in thought, and took little heed of the splendid jewels which were displayed before him. His thoughts went back to that drifting galley; to the tragedy that had taken place upon her bloodstained deck; to his father, lying there, cruelly done to death by his enemies. His friend Ralph understood his feelings and watched him in friendly sympathy.
Then the young man's breast heaved, his eyes lighted up with a stern fire, his mouth hardened. He drew himself up, and, turning to the Captain said, in a voice trembling with emotion:
"You spoke of some adventure—of some decision to be come to—do you mean that there is a way by which this foul deed—the murder of my father—can be avenged? Is such a thing possible? If so, you need not ask me to take time to consider; I am ready at once to embark in any undertaking, to run any risk, incur any danger, to punish those guilty of that cruel crime, if they are still alive and I can get at them! Though," he added regretfully, "it is likely enough that by this time the murderers may be dead, and so have escaped the punishment they deserved!"
"As to whether those who slew your father and usurped his place are still alive," returned the Captain, "I cannot say—but of that more later. The poor fellow, Jackson, left me certain explicit details and instructions, and if they are to be relied upon, the time is near for the opening of the channels through the weed—which takes place, he declared, at periodical intervals—when, if you choose, you will be able to find a way back to the land of your birth; of which, as I understand it, you are the rightful ruler."
"Will you stand by me—will you go with me?" asked Loronto with flashing eyes.
"Right willingly, my lad! It is what I have been saving myself for all these years!"
"And you, Ralph?"
"Can you ask?" cried Ralph. "Rather let me say, will you let me join with you?"
"Then we will set out together! And, if the fates should favour me, I swear that you two shall be the first and greatest sharers in whatever good fortune may come my way."
"And here," said Captain Woodham, handing him the circlet, "here is the sign of your authority—the crown your father wore. This wonderful black opal—the largest and most beautiful, as I truly believe, in the whole world—has been worn by your ancestors, I was told, through countless ages, and very glad am I that I should have been the means of saving it for you. May we both live to see you wear it in your rightful position in the country your father and forefathers ruled."
And the wonderful, lustrous opal seemed to flash with sudden, mysterious fire, as the young fellow held it in his hands for the first time in his life.
"I will not put it on my head," he declared solemnly, "while my father lies unavenged."
Then his glance travelled over the glistening heap of treasure, and he turned to Captain Woodham in amaze.
"And you—you, my dear friend—my second father—have guarded all these treasures for me!" said he with emotion. "You have kept them all these years, bringing me up and educating me out of your own scanty savings! Is it not so? You, who could have lived like a prince upon all this wealth, and none would have been the wiser!"
"I have done what I conceived to be my duty," answered Woodham simply. "I promised Jackson I would preserve everything intact until you should be twenty years old, according to the data he furnished as to the time of your birth; and then give it into your hands to do as you pleased with. It was a sacred trust, handed on from your father, through him, to me. I so regarded it—I gave my word—and I have kept it!"
"You have indeed!" exclaimed Loronto, "and how to show my gratitude—let alone repay you—I do not know! I shall never be able——"
"Pooh!" said the Captain, with a smile. "I want to see you restored to your own, my lad. For that purpose money will be wanted at the outset to fit out an expedition with. This, your father's treasure, would, I saw, provide; and I have been looking forward to the day when you would be old enough to make use of it.
"There is one thing more. You were wondering just now whether those who slew your father and usurped his place are still alive, and I answered that I could not say. I can, however, tell you this much—that they were still alive up to a couple of years ago. At that time they were still oppressing the country with a cruel, tyrannical rule and your father's faithful friends and followers—or those left of them—were still keeping up some sort of a guerrilla warfare."
Both his hearers started.
"How can you tell that?" asked Loronto in astonishment.
"It came to me in a very curious fashion. A small party of four castaways actually penetrated into the country, drifting in through a waterway which had been temporarily forced open by a great tidal wave. Now, by a most remarkable coincidence, one of the four was Peter Roff, who was with me when I discovered the derelict galley.
"Peter," continued the Captain, "is a rather quaint character. He is a capital sailor; a splendid shot, and a good hand with the cutlass; and as faithful and honest a man as can be found; but he has his weak point. He is very superstitious, and believes in witches and witchcraft, sorcery, and such-like foolishness. Therefore, when he came to me and solemnly gave me the account of his adventures, I was at first almost inclined to think that the worthy fellow's superstitious fancy had imagined it. When, however, he told me how they had been befriended by one of the outlaw chiefs, who had asked him whether he had ever heard tell of a derelict galley being found, with certain contents—amongst them a crown with a wonderfully fine black opal—then indeed I knew that Peter must have actually seen and spoken with one of those leaders who had espoused your father's cause."
"It's all very wonderful. It takes one's breath away!" exclaimed Loronto.
"Mine has gone long ago! I've lost the faculty of feeling surprised!" said Ralph philosophically.
"Well, you will be able to question the worthy Peter for yourselves shortly, for my friend, Professor Henson, in whose service he is, is returning to England in a week or two. He has taken Peter with him many times on his travels, and they have been half over the globe together. And that, by the way, reminds me that if—we should actually set out on this expedition, I have little doubt Professor Henson would like to accompany us if I were to give him the opportunity; in which case he would probably bring Peter with him.
"But," concluded Woodham, in a very serious tone, "I would not have you risk this wealth in what after all may prove to be an impossible venture—for we may fail to find a channel through the weed—without due consideration. That is why I have told you what I have to-day. To-morrow you will be twenty years old. Think over what I have said, ponder it to-night, and give me your final decision in the morning."
"I require no time for consideration," returned Loronto with enthusiasm. "My mind is made up! I shall follow the path which Fate has evidently marked out for me, let it end how it will!"
"Opening in the weed, sir!" called the lookout.
"Where away, Ben, where away?"
"Off the port bow, sir."
"What sort of an opening, Ben? Does it look like a creek? Does it run any distance? Look well, and see how far it runs up!"
"Aye, aye, sir." For half a minute there was silence. Then came the man's voice again:
"I can see a long channel, sir, a running up fur miles!"
With a curt, significant "Ha!" Captain Woodham went forward and mounted to where the look-out was stationed. He peered through his glass, and then returned aft to his two young friends, Loronto and Ralph, who were eagerly awaiting his report.
"All right, lads!" he cried, cheerily, even before he got to them. "Ben's right! There's an open channel, sure enough—and so far as I can judge, it looks like the one we want. It certainly runs in a long way!"
"At last, Lorry!" exclaimed Ralph to his chum. "I must confess I had been growing—a—well——"
"A little sceptical, Ralph; out with it," returned Loronto. "Your logico-mathematical training, if I may use such an expression, has led you, I fear, to look upon things romantic with a sort of doubting eye."
This remark was in allusion to Ralph's choice of a profession. He had been educated as an engineer, and had acquired—or perhaps sometimes affected—an ultra-practical, prosaic way of looking at things which was in contrast to the thoughtful, dreamy fits in which his chum sometimes indulged.
"Oh, well, one may be pardoned a little despondency under the circumstances," laughed Ralph. "Nearly a month have we spent prowling up and down on the outside of this dreary tract with nothing to look at day after day, but weed, weed—everlasting weed; and nothing to encourage one to hope that we should ever find what we came to look for. I fear, even now, that may be but a little creek we have chanced upon."
"A creek, say you? Look yonder!" cried Captain Woodham. "There lies the channel I rowed up in my boat that night—yonder is the place where I boarded the galley! So far as I can judge, this is truly the same channel, opened again—as that poor fellow Jackson said it would!"
Full of curiosity, the three crowded to the side of the vessel and gazed for a while in silence at the scene.
It was all as the Captain had described it to them. On one side there was the open sea; on the other, stretching far as the eye could reach, the interminable waste of weed—and now, almost straight ahead of them, a broad, open waterway, running right up into its midst.
"We must call the Professor to see this," said Captain Woodham. "He also has been among the unbelievers, I fancy. D'ye know where he is, Ralph?"
"I expect he's in his cabin setting up some specimens of a very curious creature which he captured when out in the boat yesterday amongst the weed, and which I understand is quite new to science."
Professor Henson, the friend of whom Captain Woodham had spoken, had gladly accepted his invitation to join the expedition in the hope of making some fresh discoveries. Though a comparatively young man he was already well known as an able scientist.
A seaman sent below to fetch the Professor returned with that gentleman's assistant and general factotum, Peter Roff. Peter, as we now, had formerly been a sailor, but of late years had travelled, a good deal with the man of science.
Peter was a character in his way; and since his intimate association with the Professor was apt to give himself airs, pluming himself upon the possession of scraps of learning picked up from his master, backed by a smattering of scientific terms—which he often ludicrously distorted.
"Well, Peter," cried Ralph, as he caught sight of the man's sturdy figure and good-humoured face, "I suppose the Professor's too busy to bother about the discovery we have made? What did you catch yesterday that has proved so interesting?"
Peter shook his head rather contemptuously.
"The Perfessor thinks a mighty lot o' the critter," was his answer, "but I can't say as I do! It's a square-shaped beast, cert'nly; a sort of 'alf butterfly, 'alf bird—but I don't think much of un—'cos why?—'ee doan't belong t' any proper spices, the Perfessor says 'ee's got no genius t' speak of—and as to 'is family—well, it can't be up to much, 'cos the Perfessor don't know it—never heerd on it!"
The Captain winked, the two young fellows laughed, and Peter, after a good look at the open channel, went back to report to his master.
"Well, there's plenty of time for the Professor to come and have a look," presently observed Woodham. "There will be a good moon tonight, and I think perhaps it might be better to wait for it; then alter our rig and creep up the channel quietly. If we should meet with any unfriendly natives it may scare 'em off and make it easier to get the yacht through the narrow parts into the open water which we know must lie somewhere beyond."
The words "alter our rig" require explanation. The yacht the adventurers were on—named the Wyvern—had been specially fitted out and adapted for this expedition, and had been supplied with some rather remarkable contrivances in addition to every ordinary modern improvement. She was well armed, and carried a crew who had been carefully selected and drilled by Captain Woodham himself. She had electric searchlights, and was propelled by engines worked not by steam, but by petrol.
Beyond all this, however, she boasted an altogether novel contrivance by which she could be converted, at short notice, into the outward semblance of a most awful monster—carrying out, as nearly as an exuberant fancy could suggest, the traditional idea of the mythical creature she had been named after. When thus changed she appeared as a very "fearsome wild-fowl!" indeed. A rearing, scaly neck, flanked by two wings, rose at the bow, carrying a hideous head with gaping jaws which opened and shut in a most natural manner, and two great eyes through which shot the dazzling, basilisk-like glare of the powerful searchlights. The two movable masts and telescopic funnel gave place to a sort of "turtle back," which covered the whole vessel from stem to stern, and ended in a long "practicable" tail, which could be made to lash the Waters into foam.
The idea of this grotesque disguise had been Ralph's, and he prided himself not a little on the life-like manner in which he had carried it out. While in home waters, or lying in harbour, the yacht showed a funnel and two masts, and appeared as trim and handsome a vessel as any seaman could desire. But when transformed, as described, she appeared—especially at night, or in uncertain light—well calculated to fulfil Ralph's idea of "astonishing the natives" of the unknown country they were in search of.
For the present, however, she was still in appearance merely a large private yacht; and they waited for darkness before making the necessary alteration.
When night fell she was rapidly transformed, and as the moon rose she entered the channel, and proceeded to cautiously feel her way into the midst of that vast ocean of weed. The channel grew wider as she advanced, opening out here and there, into lakes or lagoons, connected by numerous cross channels, until the adventurers found themselves involved in a sort of water maze.
Steering by compass, her Captain kept the vessel upon as straight a course as circumstances permitted, and by degrees those on board of her lost sight of the open sea and began to look anxiously ahead.
It had been easy enough, once they sighted the channel, to penetrate into this strange region; it might be a different affair altogether to find their way out again should the necessity arise!
Meantime all was silent—oppressively silent—and desolate—a very wilderness of desolation, it seemed. And ever, as they sailed onwards, they passed numbers of old hulks, which became continually more and more ancient in shape and rig. Gaunt and grim they showed above the general level of the weed, like ghosts of a long dead past—inexpressibly sad in their loneliness; strangely weird, mysterious monuments of bygone ages. The queer appearance the disguised vessel made as she crept up the waterways, uncouth as it was, scarcely seemed out of place amid such surroundings.
Presently, however, open water was seen ahead, and beyond, a reflection in the sky, as from a great fire or other unusual illumination.
In the interest and speculation aroused by these signs, the adventurers gradually threw off the depression which had begun to seize upon their spirits, and when, a little later, the strange-looking craft glided out of the intricate network of waterways into the broad expanse of what appeared to be a great, salt-water lake, Ralph drew a long breath. "Ah! Now we can breathe again!" he cried. "It was like being cooped up in a graveyard!"
The yacht was headed straight across the open water, and gradually the distant land rose before the gaze of the travellers until it loomed up in the shape of a high mountain, whose gloomy-looking, precipitous sides soon hid the moon, and threw a deep shadow over everything below.
Into this shadow the yacht crept, and the travellers eagerly scanned the shore, which appeared quite deserted. There was no sign of any habitation. In character it was wild and rocky, thickly covered in some places with dense thickets of dark-looking trees like firs; in others it was open, with low bushes scattered about.
Yet from over the mountain's top there still rose into the deep blue vault of the sky above, that strange appearance as of a reflection of some lurid light.
Captain Woodham looked up and down the coast and shook his head.
"I don't like the look of it," he said, scrutinising his surroundings with the eye of an experienced seaman. "Just the place for sunken rocks! I'd rather not cruise along this shore in the dark—and it won't do to anchor. If one had to shift suddenly it would mean the loss of one's anchor—and cable to boot!"
"I'm going ashore to investigate," Loronto declared. "This, as I understand it, is my native land, and I am full of curiosity to find out something of what it is like."
"It's a queer sort of home-coming for you, Lorry," said Ralph musingly. "I am coming with you, of course."
"And so am I!" exclaimed Professor Henson. He had "come out of his museum," as Ralph expressed it, some little time before, and had been a silent observer thus far of all the incidents of their venture into the midst of the weed.
The two chums loaded their rifles and revolvers and buckled on a cutlass each—for under the Captain's tuition they had both become expert swordsmen—and the Professor gravely imitated these precautions. Beside the towering forms of the young athletes the scientist looked small—for he was not by any means a big man—but he was tough and wiry, and known to be not only a good fighter, but plucky withal. With him went the worthy Peter.
Half a dozen trusty seamen, all well armed, rowed them ashore, and four of these were left in the boat, the other two being placed at a little distance as scouts.