# Off for Hawaii/Chapter 17

CHAPTER XVII.
into the tree tops.
"Mark!"
It was the low call of Oliver, who had mounted to the roof of the hut. He was gazing upward, but the tree leaves hid me from his view.
"I am safe," I whispered. "Come up, and tell Dan to follow."
Oliver bent down and whispered to Dan. Then he came up, and at the same time I worked my way to the center of the tree, and then out to the end of a branch opposite to that which I had first ascended.
Inside of five minutes we were together in the second tree and ready to descend into the brush below. I fully expected an alarm, but, strange to say, it did not come.
"So far it's all right," whispered Dan. "But look here."
"Well?" queried Oliver and I.
"If we drop into that tangle below, how are we ever to find the road to Wailuku and our horses?"
The question nonplused us and we stared blankly at each other.
​"I'm sure I don't know where the road is," spoke up Oliver. "And finding the horses will be a big job."
"I'll climb up to the top of the tree and try to get the lay of the land," I answered, and ascended as high as safety would permit. It was fairly bright, and as the fire had gone out and the village was almost totally dark, I could see for a considerable distance.
A vast panorama of the Iao valley was spread before me, stretching out into the darkness beyond. To one side I made out what seemed to be a stream sparkling in the starlight. On another side was the cliff to which the Kanakas had followed us.
Having gazed beyond the village, I now turned my attention to what was below. The greater portion of the ruins were behind me. They still smoked, and here and there a native was shuffling around, inspecting the damage done. Some distance away was a large hut which was lighted up, and here a score of Kanakas, men and women, were lounging around, no doubt discussing the situation and trying to decide what should be done with my companions and me.
The crowd at the hut was an angry-looking one, and soon I descended to where I had left my companions.
"We must move off in that direction," I said, ​pointing with my hand. "And the sooner the better. Those Kanakas are holding an indignation meeting, and I'm afraid they will soon settle to lynch us in their own peculiar fashion."
"I'm ready to go," answered Oliver, and in a moment more the three of us were sliding quietly to the ground.
We now found ourselves in a thicket, which in some spots was almost as tight as a wicker basket. But here and there was a small opening and through these we forced our way, until a hundred feet had been covered.
"If we only had some Cuban machetes," I said. "They are fine knives for cutting one's way through such a growth as this."
"We must be almost to the end of the brush," said Dan. "There goes the sleeve of my coat," he went on, as a ripping sound was heard. My own coat was likewise caught, and before the end of the thicket was gained each of us was almost in rags.
"They have discovered we are off!" cried Oliver, of a sudden. "Just listen to that!"
A shrill howl had arisen on the night air, and there followed the voice of Buowa, calling to the natives to search everywhere for "those bad Americans," as he designated us in his own tongue. Soon we heard several breaking their way into the thicket.
​"We must leg it now!" burst out Dan. "They'll follow our trail through that brush without half trying. All together now, and do the best sprinting you can!"
And away we went, into the darkness, over a level stretch beyond the brush, and again in the direction of the cliff. Not wishing to become separated, we took hold of each other's hands.
The cliff was gained and, looking back, we were much pleased to learn that our pursuers were not yet in sight. We started to run along the edge of the rocks, when Dan called an unexpected halt.
"Do you see that fallen tree with the round stone under it?" he exclaimed, pointing out the objects with his finger. "That is where we came up. Down we go, and if only we can locate our horses we will be safe, I feel certain of it."
Down we went, feeling our way from one rock to the next, and steadying ourselves by means of the rank grass which lined the way. We had not yet gained the bottom when a sound reached our ears which gave us a good bit of satisfaction.
It was the snort of a horse, and soon we were beside the animals, who seemed much the better for the rest they had had. Untying them, we leaped into our saddles and turned back along the road we had originally pursued.
"Well, there is one thing certain," said Oliver, ​when we felt safe from pursuit and had brought our galloping horses to a walk. "We'll not get back to Wailuku to-night."
"I don't care—so long as we get back sometime," I answered. "The main thing was to escape from those natives. They mean to make somebody suffer for the burning down of their village."
"I wouldn't care a rap how long it took to reach the seacoast, only I am anxious to trace Caleb Merkin," went on my friend. "He mustn't be allowed to leave the island before us on any account."
"Especially, if he has Joe Koloa with him," put in Dan.
"From what I can learn this Joe Koloa must be rather a peculiar person," I remarked.
"That's so," answered Oliver. "I hope Merkin doesn't wind him around his finger."
"Humph! Perhaps Joe Koloa will do some of the winding," interrupted Dan.
"How do you mean?"
"He may get Merkin to put up some money to get his secret away from him and then not tell the sailor anything, after all. These natives are not all fools."
"What gets me is, why doesn't Joe Koloa go and get the treasure for his own benefit?" said Oliver.
​"I think I can understand why, Oliver."
"Then let us have it, Mark."
"He can't get it."
"Can't? What do you mean—that it is buried in some spot where he can't reach it?"
"That it is out of his reach, yes. It may be under the lava, as I mentioned before we left San Francisco, or it may be in some cave that is completely surrounded by fire. If it was easily gotten he would be a fool to leave it alone."
"Well, there is some mystery," sighed Oliver. "But I'm not going to bother my head about it any more to-night. I feel ready to drop out of the saddle right now."
"Then we'll stop," said Dan, and leaped to the ground. We were perfectly willing to follow. Directly before us were a spring and a small stream, and here we all got a drink and bathed our faces and hands, after which we cared for our horses, and then threw ourselves down to rest. I closed my eyes immediately, and regardless of the exciting events which had transpired, slept as soundly as ever.
When I awoke it was with a start, for the rain was falling upon my face. Looking around, I saw that Dan and Oliver still slumbered soundly. They were somewhat in the shelter of a palm tree, and to still further protect them I cast some of the leaves lying around over their bodies, and ​neither awakened for a good hour after, and then it was pouring in torrents.
"More unpleasantness," growled Dan, as he sprang up. "We're having loads of fun, aren't we, fellows?"
"That's all right, Dan; you won't have to wash this morning," I laughed.
"The road is nothing but a mass of mud," announced Oliver, after an examination. "And bless me if I know in what direction to turn."
"I think Wailuku must be almost due east from here," I ventured. "Let us try this highway until we come to another running in the direction where we want to go."
"Agreed!" came from both of my chums, and wet and hungry, we saddled our steeds, leaped upon them, and set off on a gallop through the mud and rain.
It was a thoroughly disagreeable ride and nobody was in the humor for talking. Fully half a mile was covered, without a word being spoken, when Dan, who was ahead, shouted out that another road was in sight. "And it leads directly to the seacoast, I feel certain of it," he continued.
"It looks to be cultivated," observed Oliver, as he pointed to a straight row of palms. "They never grew that way of their own account."
It was now thundering and lightening as well as raining, and we pushed on harder than ever. ​The road was fairly level, but here and there were some nasty holes, and we had to be careful for fear of getting into more difficulty.
"Hurrah! a house!" shouted Oliver, ten minutes later, and pointed out a substantial structure of wood standing in the center of a well-kept garden plot. Back of the house we made out half a dozen barns and other outbuildings.
"Well?" queried Dan, and each of us looked at the others. We had had so many upsettings that we hardly knew whether or not it would be safe to ride up to the abode.
"Oh, pshaw! I'm going," cried Oliver. "Come on," and he rode through an open gateway, and Dan and I came behind him. We had not yet reached the horseblock beside the veranda when the front door of the house opened and a sweet-looking girl of fifteen or sixteen stepped out to greet us.
"Back again!" she cried, and then started back. "Oh, dear, I thought it was papa and his friends!"
"We have missed our way," answered Oliver politely, as he tipped his soaked head-covering. "Can you give us shelter until the worst of this storm is over?"
"To be sure," answered the girl. "Ride right down to that barn, and Martin can take charge of your horses. Then come in here."
​Thanking the little hostess, we did as bidden. Martin proved to be a tall German with a fat, jolly face, and willing to do anything for us.
"Dis blace vos belong to Mr. Henry Soule," he said, in reply to my question. "Dis vos a coffee blantation alretty. Mr. Soule vos drive off early dis morning mit two of his friends to see vere dot pig fire vos last night. I dink he been home putty soon."
"Went off to see about that fire," repeated Dan, and looked at Oliver and me. "He must mean that village."
"Yah, it vos a native village vot purnt down," put in the German hostler. "You vos know apout dot, too, hey? How did dot village get on fire?"
"That is more than I can say," answered Dan, and turned to us. "Come, let us get into the house—and get something to eat—if it is to be had."