tales of the fish patrol-第22章

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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　roaring　red…hot；　myself

swathe