Chapter 35: Face to Face With Death

For a moment Stern stared, speechless with amazement, at the old man, as though to determine whether or not he had gone mad. But the commotion, the mingled fear and anger of the boat crews convinced him the danger, though unknown, was very real.

And, flaring into sudden rage at this untimely interruption just in the very moment of success, he jerked his pistol from its holster, and stood up in the boat.

“I’ll have no butting in here!” he cried in a loud, harsh voice. “Who the devil is Kamrou, I’d like to know? Go on, on, to shore!“

“My son--”

“You order these men to grab those ropes again and go ashore or I warn you there’s going to be a whole big heap of trouble!”

Over the waters drifted another hail, and the strange long boat, under the urge of vigorous arms, now began to move toward Stern’s fleet. At the same time, mingled cries arose on shore. Stern could see lights moving back and forth; some confusion was under way there, though what, he could not imagine.

“Well,” he cried, “are you going to order these men to go forward? Or shall I--with this?“

And menacingly he raised the grim and ugly gun.

“Oh my son!” exclaimed the patriarch, his lips twitching, his hands outstretched--while in the boats a babel of conflicting voices rose--”O my son, if I have sinned in keeping this from you, now let me die! I hid it from your knowledge, verily, to save my people--to keep you with us till this thing should be accomplished! My reckoning was that Kamrou and his men would stay beyond the Great Vortex, at their labor, until after--”

“Kamrou?“ shouted Stern again. “What the deuce do I care about him? Who is he, anyhow? A Lanskaarn, or--”

The girl seized Allan’s hand.

“Oh, listen, listen!” she implored. “I--”

“Did you know about this? And never told me?”

“Allan, he said our work could all be done before they--”

“So you did know, eh?”

“He said I must not tell you. Otherwise--”

“Oh, hang that! See here, Beatrice, what’s the matter, anyhow? These people have all gone crazy, just in a second, the old man and all! If you know anything about it, for God’s sake tell me! I can’t stand much more!

“I’ve got to get this machine to land before they go entirely nutty and drop it, and we lose all our work for nothing. What’s up? Who’s this Kamrou they’re talking about? For Heaven’s sake, tell me!”

“He’s their chief. Allan--their chief! He’s been gone a long time, he and his men. And--”

“Well, what do we care for him? We’re running this village now, aren’t we?”

“Listen. The old man says--”

“He’s a hard nut, eh? And won’t stand for us--is that it?” He turned to the patriarch. “This Kamrou you’re talking about doesn’t want us, or our new ideas, or anything? Well, see here. There’s no use beating around the bush, now. This thing’s going through, this plan of ours! And if Kamrou or anybody else gets in the way of it--good-by for him!“

“You mean war?”

“War! And I know who’ll win, at that! And now, father, you get these men here to work again, or there’ll be some sudden deaths round here!”

“Hearken, O my son! Already the feast of welcome to Kamrou is beginning, around the flame. See now, the boat of his messenger is close at hand, bidding all those in this party to hasten in, for homage. Kamrou will not endure divided power. Trust me now and I can save you yet. For the present, yield to him, or seem to, and--”

“Yield nothing!“ fairly roared the engineer, angrier than he had ever been in his whole life. “This is my affair now! Nobody else butts in on it at all! To shore with these boats, you hear? or I begin shooting again! And if I do--”

“Allan!” cried the girl.

“Not a word! Only get your gun ready, that’s all. We’ve got to handle this situation sharp, or it’s all off! Come, father,” he delivered his ultimatum to the patriarch; “come, order them ashore!”

The old man, anguished and tremulous, spoke a few words. Answers arose, here, there. He called something to the standing figure in the despatch-boat, which slackened stopped, turned and headed for the distant beach.

With some confusion the oarsmen of the fleet took up their task again. And now, in a grim silence, more disconcerting even than the previous uproar, the boats made way toward land.

Ten minutes later--minutes during which the two Americans kept their revolvers ready for instant action--the aeroplane began to drag on the bottom. Despite the crowd now gathered on the beach, very near at hand and ominously silent, Stern would not let the machine lie even here, in shallow water, where it could easily have been recovered at any time. Like a bulldog with its jaws set on an object, he clung to his original plan of landing the Pauillac at once.

And, standing up in the boat with his pistol leveled, he commanded them, through the mediumship of the patriarch, to shorten the ropes and paddle in still closer. When the beach was only a few rods distant he gave orders that all should land, carrying the ropes with them. He himself was one of the first to wade ashore, with Beatrice.

Ignoring the silent, expectant crowd and the tall figure of Kamrou’s messenger--who now stood, arms crossed, amazed, indignant, almost at the water’s edge--he gave quick commands:

“Now, clear these boats away on both sides! Make a free space, here--wider--so, that’s right. Now, all you men get hold of the ropes--all of you, here, take hold, you! Ready, now? Give way, then! Out she comes! Out with her!”

The patriarch, standing in fear and keen anxiety beside him, transmitted the orders. Truly the old man’s plight was hard, torn as he was between loyalty to the newcomers and terror of the implacable Kamrou. But Stern had no time to think of aught but the machine and his work.

For now already the great ungainly wings of the machine were wallowing up, up, out of the jetty waters; and now the body, now the engine showed, weed-festooned, smeared with mud and slime, a strange and awesome apparition in that blue and ghastly torch-flare, as the toiling men hauled it slowly, foot by foot, up the long slope of the beach.

Dense silence held the waiting throng; silence and awe, in face of this incomprehensible, tremendous thing.

Even the messenger spoke not a word. He had lost somewhat of his assurance, his pride and overbearing haughtiness. Perhaps he had already heard some tales of these interlopers’ terrible weapons.

Stern saw the man’s eyes follow the revolver, as he gestured with it; the high-lights gleaming along the barrel seemed to fascinate the tall barbarian. But still he drew no step backward. Still in silence, with crossed arms, he waited, watched and took counsel only with himself.

“Thank God, it’s out at last!” exclaimed the engineer, and heaved a sigh of genuine, heartfelt relief. “See, Beatrice, there s our old machine again--and except for that broken rudder, this wing, here, bent, and the rent where the grapple tore the leather covering of the starboard plane I can’t see that it’s taken any damage. Provided the engine’s intact, the rest will be easy. Plenty of chance for metalwork, here, and--”

“Going to take it right up to the village, now?” queried she, anxiously glancing at the crowd of white and silent faces, all eagerly staring--staring like so many wraiths in a strange dream.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“That depends,” he answered. He seemed already to have forgotten Kamrou and the threatening peril in the village, near the great flame. Even the sound of distant chanting and the thudding of dull drums stirred him not. Fascinated, he was walking all round the great mechanical bird, which now lay wounded, weed-covered, sodden and dripping, yet eloquent of infinite possibilities, there on that black, unearthly beach.