Tollemache, having nothing to say, was not given to the use of
unnecessary words. Elsie was conscious of a certain constraint in
their talk.
"Please don't mind me," she said quietly. "I know all about the loss
of the Emu. If we fall into the hands of the Alaculof tribe, we
shall be not only killed but eaten."
She was pouring out a second cup of tea for Walker when she made this
remarkable statement. Her eyes were intent on exact quantities of tea,
milk, and sugar, and she passed the cup to the engineer with a smile.
Each of the men admired her coolness, but Tollemache, who had been
quietly scrutinizing the nearer hills, gave painful emphasis to this
gruesome topic by exclaiming: "There they are now: smoke signals."
Sure enough, thin columns of smoke were rising from several points on
the land. It could not be doubted that these were caused by human
agency. They were not visible when the party sat down to breakfast.
The appearance of the ship was their obvious explanation, but not a
canoe or a solitary figure could be seen, though Courtenay and others,
at various times during the day, searched every part of the neighboring
shore with field glasses and powerful telescopes.
After an all too brief burst of sunshine, the Land of Storms again
justified its name. Giant clouds came rolling in from seaward. The
mountains were lost in mist; the glaciers became sullen, rock-strewn
masses of white-brown ice; the fresh greenery of the forests faded into
somber belts of blackness. Though it was high summer in this desolate
region, heavy showers of hail and sleet alternated with drenching rain.
At low-water, though the Kansas floated securely in a depth of twenty
fathoms, a yellow current sweeping past her starboard quarter showed
how accurately Courtenay had read the tokens of the inlet. Many a
swollen torrent, and, perhaps, one or two fair-sized streams at the
head of the bay, contributed this flood of fresh water.
And, with the evening tide, there were not wanting indications that the
gale without had developed a new fury. A solitary albatross, driven
landward by stress of weather, rode in vast circles above the ship.
There was no wealth of bird life in that place of gloom. Though fitted
to rear untold millions of gulls and other sea birds, this secluded
nook was almost deserted; generations of men had devoured all the eggs
they could lay hands on.
To Elsie and the doctor were entrusted the daylight watch on deck and
the care of the sick. For the latter there was not much to be done.
The cook undertook to feed them, and Frascuelo, the wounded stevedore
who had been discovered in a state of collapse, soon revived, and was
practically able to look after himself. The others, under Walker's
directions, were hard at work in the engine-room and stoke-hold, for
there alone lay the chance of ultimate escape.