CHAPTER XIV
A BOLD STRATAGEM
NEXT day, February 17th, the sun's first rays awoke
the sleepers of the Maunganamu. The Maories had long
since been astir, coming and going at the foot of the mountain, without leaving
their line of observation. Furious
clamor broke out when they saw the Europeans leave the
sacred place they had profaned.
Each of the party glanced first at the neighboring mountains, and at the
deep valleys still drowned in mist, and
over Lake Taupo, which the morning breeze ruffled
slightly. And then all clustered round Paganel eager to
hear his project.
Paganel soon satisfied their curiosity. "My friends,"
said he, "my plan has one great recommendation; if it
does not accomplish all that I anticipate, we shall be no
worse off than we are at present. But it must, it will succeed."
"And what is it?" asked McNabbs.
"It is this," replied Paganel, "the superstition of the
natives has made this mountain a refuge for us, and we
must take advantage of their superstition to escape. If I
can persuade Kai-Koumou that we have expiated our
profanation, that the wrath of the Deity has fallen on us:
in a word, that we have died a terrible death, do you think
he will leave the plateau of Maunganamu to return to his
village?"
"Not a doubt of it," said Glenarvan.
"And what is the horrible death you refer to?" asked
Lady Helena.
"The death of the sacrilegious, my friends," replied Paganel. "The
avenging flames are under our feet. Let us
open a way for them!"
"What! make a volcano!" cried John Mangles.
"Yes, an impromptu volcano, whose fury we can regulate. There are plenty
of vapors ready to hand, and subterranean fires ready to issue forth. We can
have an
eruption ready to order."
"An excellent idea, Paganel; well conceived," said the
Major.
"You understand," replied the geographer, "we are to
pretend to fall victims to the flames of the Maori Pluto,
and to disappear spiritually into the tomb of Kara-Tete.
And stay there three, four, even five days if necessary -that is to say, till
the savages are convinced that we have
perished, and abandon their watch."
"But," said Miss Grant, "suppose they wish to be sure
of our punishment, and climb up here to see?"
"No, my dear Mary," returned Paganel. "They will
not do that. The mountain is tabooed, and if it devoured
its sacrilegious intruders, it would only be more inviolably
tabooed."
"It is really a very clever plan," said Glenarvan.
"There is only one chance against it; that is, if the savages prolong their
watch at the foot of Maunganamu, we
may run short of provisions. But if we play our game
well there is not much fear of that."
"And when shall we try this last chance?" asked Lady
Helena.
"To-night," rejoined Paganel, "when the darkness is
the deepest."
"Agreed," said McNabbs; "Paganel, you are a genius!
and I, who seldom get up an enthusiasm, I answer for the
success of your plan. Oh! those villains! They shall
have a little miracle that will put off their conversion for
another century. I hope the missionaries will forgive us."
The project of Paganel was therefore adopted, and certainly with the
superstitious ideas of the Maories there
seemed good ground for hope. But brilliant as the idea
might be, the difficulty was in the modus operandi. The
volcano might devour the bold schemers, who offered it a
crater. Could they control and direct the eruption when
they had succeeded in letting loose its vapor and flames,
and lava streams? The entire cone might be engulfed.
It was meddling with phenomena of which nature herself
has the absolute monopoly.
Paganel had thought of all this; but he intended to act
prudently and without pushing things to extremes. An
appearance would be enough to dupe the Maories, and there
was no need for the terrible realities of an eruption.
How long that day seemed. Each one of the party inwardly counted the
hours. All was made ready for flight.
The oudoupa provisions were divided and formed very
portable packets. Some mats and firearms completed their
light equipment, all of which they took from the tomb of
the chief. It is needless to say that their preparations were
made within the inclosure, and that they were unseen by
the savages.
At six o'clock the steward served up a refreshing meal.
Where or when they would eat in the valleys of the Ranges
no one could foretell. So that they had to take in supplies
for the future. The principal dish was composed of half
a dozen rats, caught by Wilson and stewed. Lady Helena
and Mary Grant obstinately refused to taste this game,
which is highly esteemed by the natives; but the men enjoyed it like the real
Maories. The meat was excellent
and savory, and the six devourers were devoured down to
the bones.
The evening twilight came on. The sun went down in
a stormy-looking bank of clouds. A few flashes of lightning glanced across the
horizon and distant thunder pealed
through the darkened sky.
Paganel welcomed the storm, which was a valuable aid
to his plans, and completed his program. The savages
are superstitiously affected by the great phenomena of nature. The New
Zealanders think that thunder is the angry
voice of Noui-Atoua, and lightning the fierce gleam of his
eyes. Thus their deity was coming personally to chastise
the violators of the taboo.
At eight o'clock, the summit of the Maunganamu was
lost in portentous darkness. The sky would supply a black
background for the blaze which Paganel was about to
throw on it. The Maories could no longer see their prisoners; and this was the
moment for action. Speed was
necessary. Glenarvan, Paganel, McNabbs, Robert, the
steward, and the two sailors, all lent a hand.
The spot for the crater was chosen thirty paces from
Kara-Tete's tomb. It was important to keep the oudoupa
intact, for if it disappeared, the taboo of the mountain
would be nullified. At the spot mentioned Paganel had
noticed an enormous block of stone, round which the vapors played with a certain
degree of intensity. This block
covered a small natural crater hollowed in the cone, and
by its own weight prevented the egress of the subterranean
fire. If they could move it from its socket, the vapors and
the lava would issue by the disencumbered opening.
The workers used as levers some posts taken from the
interior of the oudoupa, and they plied their tools vigorously against the rocky
mass. Under their united efforts
the stone soon moved. They made a little trench so that
it might roll down the inclined plane. As they gradually
raised it, the vibrations under foot became more distinct.
Dull roarings of flame and the whistling sound of a furnace ran along under the
thin crust. The intrepid laborers, veritable Cyclops handling Earth's fires,
worked in
silence; soon some fissures and jets of steam warned them
that their place was growing dangerous. But a crowning
effort moved the mass which rolled down and disappeared.
Immediately the thin crust gave way. A column of fire
rushed to the sky with loud detonations, while streams of
boiling water and lava flowed toward the native camp and
the lower valleys.
All the cone trembled as if it was about to plunge into
a fathomless gulf.
Glenarvan and his companions had barely time to get
out of the way; they fled to the enclosure of the oudoupa,
not without having been sprinkled with water at 220°.
This water at first spread a smell like soup, which soon
changed into a strong odor of sulphur.
Then the mud, the lava, the volcanic stones, all spouted
forth in a torrent. Streams of fire furrowed the sides of
Maunganamu. The neighboring mountains were lit up
by the glare; the dark valleys were also filled with dazzling
light.
All the savages had risen, howling under the pain inflicted by the
burning lava, which was bubbling and foaming in the midst of their camp.
Those whom the liquid fire had not touched fled to the
surrounding hills; then turned, and gazed in terror at this
fearful phenomenon, this volcano in which the anger of
their deity would swallow up the profane intruders on the
sacred mountain. Now and then, when the roar of the
eruption became less violent, their cry was heard:
"Taboo! taboo! taboo!"
An enormous quantity of vapors, heated stones and lava
was escaping by this crater of Maunganamu. It was not
a mere geyser like those that girdle round Mount Hecla,
in Iceland, it was itself a Hecla. All this volcanic commotion was confined till
then in the envelope of the cone,
because the safety valve of Tangariro was enough for its
expansion; but when this new issue was afforded, it rushed
forth fiercely, and by the laws of equilibrium, the other
eruptions in the island must on that night have lost their
usual intensity.
An hour after this volcano burst upon the world, broad
streams of lava were running down its sides. Legions of
rats came out of their holes, and fled from the scene.
All night long, and fanned by the tempest in the upper
sky, the crater never ceased to pour forth its torrents with
a violence that alarmed Glenarvan. The eruption was
breaking away the edges of the opening. The prisoners.
hidden behind the inclosure of stakes, watched the fearful
progress of the phenomenon.
Morning came. The fury of the volcano had not slackened. Thick yellowish
fumes were mixed with the flames;
the lava torrents wound their serpentine course in every
direction.
Glenarvan watched with a beating heart, looking from
all the interstices of the palisaded enclosure, and observed
the movements in the native camp.
The Maories had fled to the neighboring ledges, out of
the reach of the volcano. Some corpses which lay at the
foot of the cone, were charred by the fire. Further off toward the "pah," the
lava had reached a group of twenty
huts, which were still smoking. The Maories, forming
here and there groups, contemplated the canopied summit
of Maunganamu with religious awe.
Kai-Koumou approached in the midst of his warriors,
and Glenarvan recognized him. The chief advanced to
the foot of the hill, on the side untouched by the lava, but
he did not ascend the first ledge.
Standing there, with his arms stretched out like an exerciser, he made
some grimaces, whose meaning was obvious to the prisoners. As Paganel had
foreseen, KaiKoumou launched on the avenging mountain a more rigorous taboo.
Soon after the natives left their positions and followed
the winding paths that led toward the pah.
"They are going!" exclaimed Glenarvan. "They have
left their posts! God be praised! Our stratagem has succeeded! My dear Lady
Helena, my brave friends, we are
all dead and buried! But this evening when night comes,
we shall rise and leave our tomb, and fly these barbarous
tribes!"
It would be difficult to conceive of the joy that pervaded the oudoupa.
Hope had regained the mastery in
all hearts. The intrepid travelers forgot the past, forgot
the future, to enjoy the present delight! And yet the
task before them was not an easy one — to gain some European outpost in the
midst of this unknown country. But
Kai-Koumou once off their track, they thought themselves
safe from all the savages in New Zealand.
A whole day had to elapse before they could make a
start, and they employed it in arranging a plan of flight.
Paganel had treasured up his map of New Zealand, and
on it could trace out the best roads.
After discussion, the fugitives resolved to make for the
Bay of Plenty, towards the east. The region was unknown, but apparently desert.
The travelers, who from
their past experience, had learned to make light of physical difficulties,
feared nothing but meeting Maories. At
any cost they wanted to avoid them and gain the east coast,
where the missionaries had several stations. That part
of the country had hitherto escaped the horrors of war,
and the natives were not in the habit of scouring the country.
As to the distance that separated Lake Taupo from the
Bay of Plenty, they calculated it about a hundred miles.
Ten days' march at ten miles a day, could be done, not
without fatigue, but none of the party gave that a thought.
If they could only reach the mission stations they could
rest there while waiting for a favorable opportunity to
get to Auckland, for that was the point they desired to
reach.
This question settled, they resumed their watch of the
native proceedings, and continued so doing till evening
fell. Not a solitary native remained at the foot of the
mountain, and when darkness set in over the Taupo valleys, not a fire indicated
the presence of the Maories at
the base. The road was free.
At nine o'clock, the night being unusually dark, Glenarvan gave the order
to start. His companions and he,
armed and equipped at the expense of Kara-Tete, began
cautiously to descend the slopes of Maunganamu, John
Mangles and Wilson leading the way, eyes and ears on the
alert. They stopped at the slightest sound, they started
at every passing cloud. They slid rather than walked
down the spur, that their figures might be lost in the dark
mass of the mountain. At two hundred feet below the
summit, John Mangles and his sailors reached the dangerous ridge that had been
so obstinately defended by the
natives. If by ill luck the Maories, more cunning than
the fugitives, had only pretended to retreat; if they were
not really duped by the volcanic phenomenon, this was the
spot where their presence would be betrayed. Glenarvan
could not but shudder, in spite of his confidence, and in
spite of the jokes of Paganel. The fate of the whole party
would hang in the balance for the ten minutes required to
pass along that ridge. He felt the beating of Lady Helena's heart, as she clung
to his arm.
He had no thought of turning back. Neither had John.
The young captain, followed closely by the whole party,
and protected by the intense darkness, crept along the ridge,
stopping when some loose stone rolled to the bottom. If
the savages were still in the ambush below, these unusual
sounds might provoke from both sides a dangerous fusillade.
But speed was impossible in their serpent-like progress down this sloping
crest. When John Mangles had
reached the lowest point, he was scarcely twenty-five feet
from the plateau, where the natives were encamped the
night before, and then the ridge rose again pretty steeply
toward a wood for about a quarter of a mile.
All this lower part was crossed without molestation, and
they commenced the ascent in silence. The clump of
bush was invisible, though they knew it was there, and but
for the possibility of an ambush, Glenarvan counted on being safe when the party
arrived at that point. But he observed that after this point, they were no
longer protected
by the taboo. The ascending ridge belonged not to
Maunganamu, but to the mountain system of the eastern
side of Lake Taupo, so that they had not only pistol shots,
but hand-to-hand fighting to fear. For ten minutes, the
little band ascended by insensible degrees toward the higher
table-land. John could not discern the dark wood, but he
knew it ought to be within two hundred feet. Suddenly
he stopped; almost retreated. He fancied he heard something in the darkness; his
stoppage interrupted the march
of those behind.
He remained motionless long enough to alarm his companions. They waited
with unspeakable anxiety, wondering if they were doomed to retrace their steps,
and return
to the summit of Maunganamu.
But John, finding that the noise was not repeated, resumed the ascent of
the narrow path of the ridge. Soon
they perceived the shadowy outline of the wood showing
faintly through the darkness. A few steps more and they
were hid from sight in the thick foliage of the trees.