Hurst reloaded with the speed that was the special skill of the accomplished rifleman and dropped from his perch for another shot at the partially paralyzed animal, which was trying to regain its footing on slippery rocks. He ran recklessly into the stream even as Scott caught up his musket and fired at the squirming, thrashing beast.
Then Hurst shot again, this time from closer range, and the snarling tiger collapsed with a bullet in the brain.
"That did it!" Hurst yelped in sudden excitement. "That did it!"
Scott slowly looked from the crumpled great cat in the water to the body of Clay Peary. He didn't have to peer closer to feel certain the man was dead; he could see the crushed-in face and the grotesque position of the head on the broken neck. But he went to where his brother-in-law lay and examined the body without touching it. He felt no fear, no hatred; just a churning sickness that threatened to erupt.
Hurst, who had been joined by Darus, came back from where the tiger sprawled in death. Shouts of exultation rose from the beaters forcing their way through the tangled growth of the gloomy jungle. Darus was first to notice the dead man.
"Harimau?" he asked in a voice made high by strain. "The Lame One?"
Scott nodded wearily, getting control of himself now.
"What happened, sir?" Hurst asked the captain. "I heard a shot before we saw th' tiger."
"He fell out of the tree," Scott said. "We both did."
"And th' tiger got 'im?"
"I don't think he knew what hit him," the captain said dully.
24
THE muezzin Osman disappeared from the village the day the tiger was slain. Scott, who had never actually seen the man, was inclined to share Darus' conviction that the loss, even if permanent, was small; but he could not avoid reflecting that the vengeful kinsman of Suran might try to stir up fresh difficulties for him on the coast. Thus, while returning in triumph at the head of a fleet of pepper-laden proas, he was goaded by fresh anxiety to reach the Caroline. The experience with Peary had shaken him, inexplicably bringing up doubts about the depth of Fox's loyalty under stress; and his uneasiness was fermented more by a sudden violent wind-and-rain storm that blew inland the night before departure downstream.
To some degree, he managed to dismiss from mind his brother-in-law's shocking confession of incestuous longings, although it required conscious effort to do so. Accustomed though he was to the violence, cruelty and tragedy with which the ordinary seafarer of the day lived cheek by jowl, and aware though he was of the unnatural longings besetting some men during long voyages, he really lacked either knowledge or understanding of the dark workings of a diseased mind. In his book Peary deserved what he had got and he felt the world had been well served by the tiger.
Nearing the coast, he was conscious of being under observation from the jungle, but he felt secure in his own strength and in the loyalty of the inland Malays under Darus. Coming in sight of the sea at last, he saw through the tunnel of green the Caroline riding at anchor. His field of vision was narrow, though, and he urged the men at the oars to greater efforts in his anxiety to see also the Sally Culbreath.
Then, from the lower estuary, he saw the Salem brig. She had driven aground in shallow water in front of the village and lay on her side in the grip of mud and sand. At low tide a man could wade to where she lay without wetting himself above the waist.
Good God, he thought fearfully, the storm; the storm must have wrecked her. He looked again at the Caroline, seeing the signal her people were making for him to hurry to her. Pausing just long enough to take Darus into his own boat, Scott hastened to the side of the Charleston vessel. He soon made out Fox and all hands who had been left in her; every man was armed with cutlass and musket or pistol. But he saw neither Dorcas nor her father, and their absence disturbed him.
Fox met him nervously as he climbed aboard. The second mate's face was lined with strain and his voice underscored his visible agitation.
"Sir," he said to Scott, "you saw the Sally, didn't you?"
"How could I fail?" Scott demanded irritably. "What happened? Where are Miss Russell and the old man? Where's Bryant?"
"It's terrible, sir," the second officer replied. "Terrible. The storm came up sudden-like and the Sally drove ashore. Her anchor chain must have parted; I don't know."
"Damn it all, man," Scott persisted harshly, "what happened to her people? And where are the Russells?"
"I—I don't know, sir. Dorc—Miss Russell and her father were in Captain Bryant's ship when the storm blew up. We couldn't do anything then. And when the storm died . . ."
"What, man, what?"
"The Malays went out to the Sally and boarded her. They took all hands off, I suppose."
"Suppose, for Christ's sake! Don't you know?"
Fox pulled himself together visibly. "No, sir, I don't. It was still dark. The natives were hostile. Bryant put up a fight of sorts; but there were too many against him. Hundreds."
"And what did you do?"
"What could I do?" Fox's voice rose in indignation. "What could I do with about ten men? I couldn't open fire for fear of killing the Sally’s people. And I sure couldn't attack with the handful you left me. It would have been suicide . . . and the end of this ship. Would you have me risk everything on a fool's mission that couldn't succeed?"
Scott chewed his lower lip, getting control of himself. The man's answer made some sense. Fox watched him closely. "You don't think I did right, sir?"
"I don't know," Scott said bluntly. "It's hard to say. Have you had no word from the town?"
"None, sir."
"Have you been to the Sally?"
Fox shook his head negatively. "That would have spread us too thin. We've been standing to quarters ever since it happened."
"The Sally's been plundered, I take it?"
Fox nodded. "They were at it all day yesterday. At the angle she's lying, sir, they could visit her safely enough." He hesitated. "I don't think all the Quallah Battoo people are involved in what happened. Some, maybe, but not all."
"What makes you think that?"
The mate shrugged. "I watched through the glass."
"Who, then?"
Again Fox shrugged. "I don't know. The village has been crowded, though; it's full of strangers."
Scott went to the rail and drummed on it with his fingers. Responsibility to the Caroline’s owners made it imperative that he take aboard immediately the pepper brought downriver, but anxiety about the people who had been in the Salem brig undercut the logic in his mind. Dorcas, he thought. What have they done to her? I wonder if Osman had anything to do with the attack on the Sally. He turned suddenly to find Hurst and Darus close by him.
"You heard, Hurst?" he demanded.
"Aye, su".
Scott inclined his head toward the rajah, who was glumly staring at his boats in the estuary. "Darus, too?"
"I translated what 'e didn't understand, sir. Er—'e's worried about 'is proas. 'E don't get along too well with them Quallah Battoo people 'imself."
"Do you think that fellow Osman could have had a hand in what's happened?"
"I dunno, sir."
"Does Darus?"
"I've already asked 'im. 'E don't know, either. But 'e thinks Osman might've." Hurst paused. "What're we goin' to do now?"
Scott answered him by turning back to the second officer. "Mr. Fox, start taking the pepper aboard. Weigh it on deck."
"Aye, aye, sir."
The captain's mind spun. One night had elapsed since the night of the storm; they'd come downriver swiftly, in just about twenty-four hours. The Sally Culhreath’s people had been captives about thirty-six hours, he estimated. Dorcas and Forbes Russell, too. He thought more about Dorcas than he did all the others put together.