Wal Jessop hastily explained to Meri that it was their intention to go in pursuit of the white man, and the chief said he would accompany them. The meeting came to an end, the savages2 dispersing3 to their various huts.
Meri, beckoning4 to Wal and Edgar to follow him, led the way across the marum into the forest beyond. They were soon in richly-wooded country, and found progress difficult. Edgar constantly stumbled over some tangled5, twisted root that lay hidden in his path; thorns, growing on some of the bushes, pricked6 him and tore his clothes, and Wal Jessop was in no better plight7. Meri, however, did not appear to mind the thorns, but walked on at a rapid pace.
They continued their tramp for some time, but saw nothing of the white man who had so quickly and mysteriously disappeared.
When they halted to rest Wal Jessop questioned Meri, and learned that the white man had been on the island for some time. He came in a trading vessel8, and was left behind, either wilfully9 or through his own desire. The natives regarded him with superstition11, and thought him scarcely human. Meri himself was evidently a believer in the white man’s powers over the natives for good or evil.
On resuming their search they came upon a pathway evidently cut in the bush, and along this Meri led them.
He halted at the entrance to a small clearing, and here they saw a strange sight.
Standing12 straight up from the ground were several large trunks of trees, that had been hollowed out and rudely carved in the shape of hideous13 heads at the top. They appeared to be idols14, and Meri regarded them with a look of awe15.
‘This is a Sing-Sing ground,’ said Wal; ‘I have heard of them before, but never seen one. This is where their gods live, and it is regarded as a sacred grove16. If the white man is here it easily accounts for the fear with which he is regarded. No native would remain here alone; in fact, they dare not venture except upon special occasions. I’ll ask Meri about it.’
Wal questioned the chief, who said he could enter the sacred grove as chief of his tribe, and they walked into the clearing. Raising his club Meri struck one of the hollow trunks a blow, and it echoed through the forest with a sound like a drum.
Edgar looked into the hollow of each tree, but saw nothing. Presently a tall figure glided17 into the grove, and stood still regarding them.
They were at once convinced it was the unfortunate captain of the Distant Shore standing before them, but he showed no sign that he recognised them.
He was strangely altered from the fine, stalwart seaman18 they had known as Captain Manton of the Distant Shore. His figure was gaunt and thin, and his arms and hands were mere19 skin and bone. His hair was white, his beard of the same hue20, and his eyes looked vacantly from under his bushy eyebrows21. He wore an old coat, which reached to his knees, and his legs and feet were bare. As he advanced slowly towards them Meri fell back, but Edgar and Wal stood their ground.
‘Begone!’ said this ghost-like figure of Captain Manton. ‘This is no place for you. Begone, and leave me in peace! I harm no one. I am quite alone—alone in a world of my own, peopled with the ghosts of the drowned!’
Edgar stepped forward, and, looking him straight in the eyes, said:
‘Do you not know me, Captain Manton? I am Edgar Foster. I was saved from the wreck22 with your daughter Eva.’
At the mention of Eva’s name a momentary23 light of intelligence came into the man’s eyes, but it quickly died away, and left them dull and vacant.
‘Poor fellow!’ said Edgar sorrowfully; ‘his brain has given way under the strain. He must have suffered severely24.’
‘Do you think he is mad?’ asked Wal.
‘Not a dangerous form of madness,’ replied Edgar; ‘but I have no doubt he is not in his right mind. We must humour him, and question him. He has a strange story to relate, if he can be persuaded to tell it, and if he remembers all he has gone through.’
Edgar took the unfortunate man by the hand, and persuaded him to sit down.
Meri looked on, his curiosity evidently being excited.
Edgar tried as gently and simply as possible to lead the wandering mind of the captain back to the wreck of the Distant Shore, and found, to his delight, that he succeeded in rousing his dormant25 memory.
Captain Manton began to talk in a strange, monotonous26 way. He was evidently recapitulating27 what had happened to him after the wreck of the Distant Shore, and he seemed almost unconscious of anyone being present.
From time to time during the course of the strange tale he related Edgar refreshed his weak memory.
‘If we can lead him on to tell us everything,’ said Edgar, ‘he may recognise us in the end.’
‘I hope so,’ said Wal; ‘it is terrible to see him like this, but it may be caused through not having any white men to converse28 with.’
Captain Manton—for, indeed, it was that unfortunate seaman—commenced by telling them, in a somewhat incoherent way, that he was on a big ship when it went on to the rocks and crashed to pieces.
‘It was the captain’s fault,’ he said; ‘he ought to have made for a harbour; he is responsible for all our deaths.’
‘You were saved,’ said Edgar. ‘You are not dead, and you ought to be thankful. It was not the captain’s fault, for he was a brave man, and a good seaman. I knew him well, and he was incapable29 of a cowardly action.’
‘I knew him once,’ said Captain Manton, ‘but it must have been a very long time ago. He’s dead now, and you say I am alive. Strange how little I remember of Manton, for I must have known him well.’
‘You did,’ said Edgar. ‘Have you forg............