tales of the fish patrol-第16章

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wrists。　　The　edge　of　the　shell　was　also　brittle；　and　I　broke　it　by

bearing　too　heavily　upon　it。　　Then　I　rolled　back　to　the　heap　and

returned　with　as　many　shells　as　I　could　carry　in　both　hands。　　I

broke　many　shells；　cut　my　hands　a　number　of　times；　and　got　cramps

in　my　legs　from　my　strained　position　and　my　exertions。



While　I　was　suffering　from　the　cramps；　and　resting；　I　heard　a

familiar　halloo　drift　across　the　water。　　It　was　Charley；　searching

for　me。　　The　gag　in　my　mouth　prevented　me　from　replying；　and　I

could　only　lie　there；　helplessly　fuming；　while　he　rowed　past　the

island　and　his　voice　slowly　lost　itself　in　the　distance。



I　returned　to　the　sawing　process；　and　at　the　end　of　half　an　hour

succeeded　in　severing　the　rope。　　The　rest　was　easy。　　My　hands　once

free；　it　was　a　matter　of　minutes　to　loosen　my　legs　and　to　take　the

gag　out　of　my　mouth。　　I　ran　around　the　island　to　make　sure　it　was

an　island　and　not　by　any　chance　a　portion　of　the　mainland。　　An

island　it　certainly　was；　one　of　the　Marin　group；　fringed　with　a

sandy　beach　and　surrounded　by　a　sea　of　mud。　　Nothing　remained　but

to　wait　till　daylight　and　to　keep　warm；　for　it　was　a　cold；　raw

night　for　California；　with　just　enough　wind　to　pierce　the　skin　and

cause　one　to　shiver。



To　keep　up　the　circulation；　I　ran　around　the　island　a　dozen　times

or　so；　and　clambered　across　its　rocky　backbone　as　many　times　more　…

all　of　which　was　of　greater　service　to　me；　as　I　afterward

discovered；　than　merely　to　warm　me　up。　　In　the　midst　of　this

exercise　I　wondered　if　I　had　lost　anything　out　of　my　pockets　while

rolling　over　and　over　in　the　sand。　　A　search　showed　the　absence　of

my　revolver　and　pocket…knife。　　The　first　Yellow　Handkerchief　had

taken；　but　the　knife　had　been　lost　in　the　sand。



I　was　hunting　for　it　when　the　sound　of　rowlocks　came　to　my　ears。

At　first；　of　course；　I　thought　of　Charley；　but　on　second　thought　I

knew　Charley　would　be　calling　out　as　he　rowed　along。　　A　sudden

premonition　of　danger　seized　me。　　The　Marin　Islands　are　lonely

places；　chance　visitors　in　the　dead　of　night　are　hardly　to　be

expected。　　What　if　it　were　Yellow　Handkerchief？　　The　sound　made　by

the　rowlocks　grew　more　distinct。　　I　crouched　in　the　sand　and

listened　intently。　　The　boat；　which　I　judged　a　small　skiff　from　the

quick　stroke　of　the　oars；　was　landing　in　the　mud　about　fifty　yards

up　the　beach。　　I　heard　a　raspy；　hacking　cough；　and　my　heart　stood

still。　　It　was　Yellow　Handkerchief。　　Not　to　be　robbed　of　his

revenge　by　his　more　cautious　companions；　he　had　stolen　away　from

the　village　and　come　back　alone。



I　did　some　swift　thinking。　　I　was　unarmed　and　helpless　on　a　tiny

islet；　and　a　yellow　barbarian；　whom　I　had　reason　to　fear；　was

coming　after　me。　　Any　place　was　safer　than　the　island；　and　I　turned

instinctively　to　the　water；　or　rather　to　the　mud。　　As　he　began　to

flounder　ashore　through　the　mud；　I　started　to　flounder　out　into　it；

going　over　the　same　course　which　the　Chinese　had　taken　in　landing

me　and　in　returning　to　the　junk。



Yellow　Handkerchief；　believing　me　to　be　lying　tightly　bound；

exercised　no　care；　but　came　ashore　noisily。　　This　helped　me；　for；

under　the　shield　of　his　noise　and　making　no　more　myself　than

necessary；　I　managed　to　cover　fifty　feet　by　the　time　he　had　made

the　beach。　　Here　I　lay　down　in　the　mud。　　It　was　cold　and　clammy；

and　made　me　shiver；　but　I　did　not　care　to　stand　up　and　run　the　risk

of　being　discovered　by　his　sharp　eyes。



He　walked　down　the　beach　straight　to　where　he　had　left　me　lying；

and　I　had　a　fleeting　feeling　of　regret　at　not　being　able　to　see　his

surprise　when　he　did　not　find　me。　　But　it　was　a　very　fleeting

regret；　for　my　teeth　were　chattering　with　the　cold。



What　his　movements　were　after　that　I　had　largely　to　deduce　from　the

facts　of　the　situation；　for　I　could　scarcely　see　him　in　the　dim

starlight。　　But　I　was　sure　that　the　first　thing　he　did　was　to　make

the　circuit　of　the　beach　to　learn　if　landings　had　been　made　by

other　boats。　　This　he　would　have　known　at　once　by　the　tracks

through　the　mud。



Convinced　that　no　boat　had　removed　me　from　the　island；　he　next

started　to　find　out　what　had　become　of　me。　　Beginning　at　the　pile

of　clamshells；　he　lighted　matches　to　trace　my　tracks　in　the　sand。

At　such　times　I　could　see　his　villanous　face　plainly；　and；　when　the

sulphur　from　the　matches　irritated　his　lungs；　between　the　raspy

cough　that　followed　and　the　clammy　mud　in　which　I　was　lying；　I

confess　I　shivered　harder　than　ever。



The　multiplicity　of　my　footprints　puzzled　him。　　Then　the　idea　that

I　might　be　out　in　the　mud　must　have　struck　him；　for　he　waded　out　a

few　yards　in　my　direction；　and；　stooping；　with　his　eyes　searched

the　dim　surface　long　and　carefully。　　He　could　not　have　been　more

than　fifteen　feet　from　me；　and　had　he　lighted　a　match　he　would

surely　have　discovered　me。



He　returned　to　the　beach　and　clambered　about；　over　the　rocky

backbone；　again　hunting　for　me　with　lighted　matches；　The　closeness

of　the　shave　impelled　me　to　further　flight。　　Not　daring　to　wade

upright；　on　account　of　the　noise　made　by　floundering　and　by　the

suck　of　the　mud；　I　remained　lying　down　in　the　mud　and　propelled

myself　over　its　surface　by　means　of　my　hands。　　Still　keeping　the

trail　made　by　the　Chinese　in　going　from　and　to　the　junk；　I　held　on

until　I　reached　the　water。　　Into　this　I　waded　to　a　depth　of　three

feet；　and　then　I　turned　off　to　the　side　on　a　line　parallel　with　the

beach。



The　thought　came　to　me　of　going　toward　Yellow　Handkerchief's　skiff

and　escaping　in　it；　but　at　that　very　moment　he　returned　to　the

beach；　and；　as　though　fearing　the　very　thing　I　had　in　mind；　he

slushed　out　through　the　mud　to　assure　himself　that　the　skiff　was

safe。　　This　turned　me　in　the　opposite　direction。　　Half　swimming；

half　wading；　with　my　head　just　out　of　water　and　avoiding　splashing；

I　succeeded　in　putting　about　a　hundred　feet　between　myself　and　the

spot　where　the　Chinese　had　begun　to　wade　ashore　from　the　junk。　　I

drew　myself　out　on　the　mud　and　remained　lying　flat。



Again　Yellow　Handkerchief　returned　to　the　beach　and　made　a　search

of　the　island；　and　again　he　returned　to　the　heap　of　clam…shells。　　I

knew　what　was　running　in　his　mind　as　well　as　he　did　himself。　　No

one　could　leave　or　land　without　making　tracks　in　the　mud。　　The　only

tracks　to　be　seen　were　those　leading　from　his　skiff　and　from　where

the　junk　had　been。　　I　was　not　on　the　island。　　I　must　have　left　it

by　one　or　the　other　of　those　two　tracks。　　He　had　just　been　over　the

one　to　his　skiff；　and　was　certain　I　had　not　left　that　way。

Therefore　I　could　have　left　the　island　only　by　going　over　the

tracks　of　the　junk　landing。　　This　he　proceeded　to　verify　by　wading

out　over　them　himself；　lighting　matches　as　he　came　along。



When　he　arrived　at　the　point　where　I　had　first　lain；　I　knew；　by　the

matches　he　burned　and　the　time　he　took；　that　he　had　discovered　the

marks　left　by　my　body。　　These　he　followed　straight　to　the　water　and

into　it；　but　in　three　feet　of　water　he　could　no　longer　see　them。

On　the　other　hand；　as　the　tide　was　still　falling；　he　could　easily

make　out　the　impression　made　by　the　junk's　bow；　and　could　have

likewise　made　out　the　impression　of　any　other　boat　if　it　had　landed

at　that　particular　spot。　　But　there　was　no　such　mark；　and　I　knew

that　he　was　absolutely　convinced　that　I　was　hiding　somewhere　in　the

mud。



But　to　hunt　on　a　dark　night　for　a　boy　in　a　sea　of　mud　would　be　like

hunting　for　a　needle　in　a　haystack；　and　he　did　not　attempt　it。

Instead　he　went　back　to　the　beach　and　prowled　around　for　some　time。

I　was　hoping　he　would　give　me　up　and　go；　for　by　this　time　I　was

suffering　severely　from　the　cold。　　At　last　he　waded　out　to　his

skiff　and　rowed　away。　　What　if　this　departure　of　Yellow

Handkerchief's　were　a　sham？　　What　if　he　had　done　it　merely　to

entice　me　ashore？



The　more　I　thought　of　it　the　more　certain　I　became　that　he　had　made

a　little　too　much　noise　with　his　oars　as　he　rowed　away。　　So　I

remained；　lying　in　the　mud　and　shivering。　　I　shivered　till　the

muscles　of　the　small　of　my　back　ached　and　pained　me　as　badly　as　the

cold；　and　I　had　need　of　all　my　self…control　to　force　myself　to

remain　in　my　miserable　situation。



It　was　well　that　I　did；　however；　for；　possibly　an　hour　later；　I

thought　I　could　make　out　something　moving　on　the　beach。　　I　watched

intently；　but　my　ears　were　rewarded　first；　by　a　raspy　cough　I　knew

only　too　well。　　Yellow　Handkerchief　had　sneaked　back；　landed　on　the

other　side　of　the　island；　and　crept　around　to　surprise　me　if　I　had

returned。



After　that；　though　hours　passed　without　sign　of　him；　I　was　afraid

to　return　to　the　island　at　all。　　On　the　other　hand；　I　was　almost

equally　afraid　that　I　should　die　of　the　exposure　I　was　undergoing。

I　had　never　dreamed　one　could　suffer　so。　　I　grew　so　cold　and　numb；

finally；　that　I　ceased　to　shiver。　　But　my　muscles　and　bones　began

to　ache　in　a　way　that　was　agony。　　The　tide　had　long　since　begun　to

rise；　and；　foot　by　foot；　it　drove　me　in　toward　the　beach。　　High

water　came　at　three　o'clock；　and　at　three　o'clock　I　drew　myself　up

on　the　beach；　more　dead　than　alive；　and　too　helpless　to　have

offered　any　resistance　had　Yellow　Handkerchief　swooped　down　upon

me。



But　no　Yellow　Handkerchief　appeared。　　He　had　given　me　up　and　gone

back　to　Point　Pedro。　　Nevertheless；　I　was　in　a　deplorable；　not　to

say　dangerous；　condition。　　I　could　not　stand　upon　my　feet；　much

less　walk。　　My　clammy；　muddy　garments　clung　to　me　like　sheets　of

ice。　　I　thought　I　should　never　get　them　off。　　So　numb　and　lifeless

were　my　fingers；　and　so　weak　was　I；　that　it　seemed　to　take　an　hour

to　get　off　my　shoes。　　I　had　not　the　strength　to　break　the　porpoise…

hide　laces；　and　the　knots　defied　me。　　I　repeatedly　beat　my　hands

upon　the　rocks　to　get　some　sort　of　life　into　them。　　Sometimes　I

felt　sure　I　was　going　to　die。



But　in　the　end；　…　after　several　centuries；　it　seemed　to　me；　…　I　got

off　the　last　of　my　clothes。　　The　water　was　now　close　at　hand；　and　I

crawled　painfully　into　it　and　washed　the　mud　from　my　naked　body。

Still；　I　could　not　get　on　my　feet　and　walk　and　I　was　afraid　to　lie

still。　　Nothing　remained　but　to　crawl　weakly；　like　a　snail；　and　at

the　cost　of　constant　pain；　up　and　down　the　sand。　　I　kept　this　up　as

long　as　possible；　but　as　the　east　paled　with　the　coming　of　dawn　I

began　to　succumb。　　The　sky　grew　rosy…red；　and　the　golden　rim　of　the

sun；　showing　above　the　horizon；　found　me　lying　helpless　and

motionless　among　the　clam…shells。



As　in　a　dream；　I　saw　the　familiar　mainsail　of　the　Reindeer　as　she

slipped　out　of　San　Rafael　Creek　on　a　light　puff　of　morning　air。

This　dream　was　very　much　broken。　　There　are　intervals　I　can　never

recollect　on　looking　back　over　it。　　Three　things；　however；　I

distinctly　remember：　　the　first　sight　of　the　Reindeer's　mainsail；

her　lying　at　anchor　a　few　hundred　feet　away　and　a　small　boat

leaving　her　side；　and　the　cabin　stove　r