The eyes glittered, the loose lips lost their grin, and the face became a mask of menace. Phil realized the fact that the man’s trigger finger was about to tighten, and he jumped back.
For a second or two there was a stark hatred, the desire to murder, a red blood lust in the eyes of the man. Then the face slowly relaxed.
“Come alone to the island?” asked the man.
Phil nodded casually.
“Yeah,” he said, “I got shipwrecked.”
He was trying to place the man’s nationality, decided that for all his ready use of the language, he was not an American, nor was he English. He was, perhaps, a racial mixture.
The man laughed again.
“Don’t lie,” he said. “I know everything that goes on here on the island. There’s three in your party, and one of ’em’s a damned pretty woman. I want that woman.”
Phil felt the red blood of rage mounting his forehead. He forgot discretion, forgot the fact that the other held him covered.
“Well, you’re frank about it,” he said. “That’s about the way I had you figured, at that. Now try and find her, you cowardly murderer!”
But the words seemed to have no effect other than to arouse a certain amusement in the man who held the rifle.
He chuckled, and the chuckle was rasping, as unclean as his face and the sleeve of the garment that had once been white.
“Heh, heh, heh,” he chuckled, “gettin’ independent, ain’t you? Well now, my friend, let me tell you something. I can control these natives because they fear me. I’ve held the whip hand over ’em all the time, and I’m ruthless.
“I’ve got a house around the corner of the trail that’s a regular castle. I built it before the natives got hostile. Afterwards they got independent, and I had to kill off a couple. That brought about a showdown. They tried to attack me.
“When I got finished with ’em they were good dogs. I’ve kept other white men off this island, and there isn’t a firearm on it except what I’ve got. I’ve got plenty.
“That’s the way I keep the natives in line. They can’t reach me, but I can kill them off whenever I want to, and I give ’em orders, rule ’em with an iron hand. That’s the only way to rule if you’re goin’ to rule.
“I told ’em not to beat that drum down there. It disturbs my sleep when I’m taking a nap. They laid off for a while, but today they violated my orders, so I went down there and put a little of the fear of God into ’em.
“And I figured some of them might come trailing me, so I set a little trap for ’em. I hadn’t figured you’d walk into it. That’s the way to deal with these natives, kill off a couple of ’em every so often, then they get all worked up and start after me, I set a little trap and kill off a couple more. Then I go and live in my castle for a while until they come to their senses.”
Phil held his face expressionless.
“Well,” he said, “how about us, what are you going to do with us, give us shelter?”
The man laughed.
“I’ll give you shelter, in a savage’s belly! I’m the one that encouraged ’em in cannibalism. They did it on the sly until I came here. I got ’em in the belief that it was a good thing, to come right out in the open and do it. They never bother in here, the government, although they’ve got the place listed on the map.
“But I keep out the traders. It’s a good system. That leaves me king of the island. I should kill you right now, but I’d rather leave you to wander around and play hide and seek with the natives. That’ll keep their mind off of me for a while, and they need something like that to divert their attention from the little disciplining I gave them.
“Well, I’ll be moving on. Don’t let ’em capture you alive if you know what’s good for you. They’ve got pleasant little methods of torture. They say the flesh tastes better when it’s about half cooked while a man’s still alive. I don’t know. I’m virtuous. I ain’t never tried it. But I hear their screams every once in a while on a still night. The natives have a ceremonial feast every time after there’s a battle with any of ’em on the other island.
“Put up the best fight you can. They’ll get you in the long run, but while you’re running around in the bush playing hide and seek they won’t be after me, and I can get in some sleep.
“They’ll get you finally. They always do get ’em. There was a ship came ashore here a couple of months ago. Funny weather. Funny the last couple of days, too. The damned island settled a bit, or the ocean raised, I don’t know which it was, big tidal waves and everything. Guess that was what brought you in.
“Must have been a hole in the sea down here to the south somewhere. The ocean boiled past at ninety miles an hour, judging from the roar of it. Oh, well, it’s a high island, and it’s been here for a while, and it’ll be here for a while again.
“The natives’ll turn over the woman to me. I’ve got ’em sold on the idea it’s bad medicine to eat a white woman — clever, eh?”
And the man got to his feet, disclosing a giant figure, unkempt, dirty, yet radiating ruthless power and brute strength.
“You stay right here for five minutes. You move up on this ridge before then, and I’ll save the savages a job. After that five minutes is up you can go anywhere you damned please.
“Watch out for their arrows. They’re tipped with a funny kind o’ poison. It’ll numb the nerves and paralyze you for a while, but it won’t kill you. You’ll come to after a hour or two — ready to be cooked on the hoof. They say it makes the meat taste a lot different.
“They’ve got a big bed o’ coals, and they truss you up and broil you a bit at a time over the slow fire. Don’t know where so many men get the idea cannibals boil ’em in a kettle. They don’t. They broil ’em. That’s the only way human meat is any good.
“So long!”
And the man abruptly stepped down from back of the ridge.
Chapter 8
Captives
Phil failed to heed the warning about remaining where he was, but he knew better than to charge up the ridge. Instead, he tried to estimate the probable direction in which the man was traveling, and struck off into the forest, making a wide semicircle.
He fought his way through thick growth, came to a more open ridge, and streaked up it with the best speed he could command. He gasped for breath, but he knew he must hurry if he stood any chance.
In the end he missed out by a matter of a few seconds.
He felt that the tall man would turn frequently to watch his back trail, that this would slow down his progress, and that there was a chance to ambush him by leaping from the bush on the side of the trail.
But he saw the shadow of the other’s long-limbed progress slipping by up the ridge while he was still ten feet away, and he knew that it would be sheer suicide to charge through the tangled shrubbery. The man could snap the rifle into position before Phil would have a chance.
So he remained motionless, watched the other stride by on the trail above. Then Phil slipped up to the trail.
The man was covering the ground with great strides, moving at a rate of speed which was faster than a smaller man could have traveled at less than a jog trot.
Phil watched him travel; saw, almost at once, his destination. It was a castle which had been built on a ridge of rock, a castle which was impregnable to anything except an attack by artillery.
The construction was of a cobbled concrete that made the structure gleam white in the sunlight. It was built on the top of the ridge, at the very apex of a massive outcropping of native rock.