Chapter Nine.The marooned Man tells his Story.Crouching over the fire, the marooned man proceeded to tell his story.“Well,” he began, “I must tell you first that I was born in the year 1532, in the town of Monmouth, in Wales, of purely Welsh parents, bearing the ancient name of Evans. In my early youth I kept about the house and tended our flock of sheep, of which we had a great many, on the dear old Welsh mountains. This life suited me well, for I was of a studious frame of mind, fond of learning, and I read and studied much while out on the hills with the sheep. At this time our family was very prosperous; but not long afterwards England began to be torn by those religious struggles, which I doubt not you two older men will well remember, and we were unfortunate enough to have our lands confiscated by that tyrant, King Henry the Eighth, and, from a state of prosperity and the possession of all we could reasonably wish, my family found itself landless, without money, and even without a home. Besides myself, there were two other children, both girls; and what worried my poor parents most was the problem of what to do with us three children. Fortunately an uncle of my mother—a man whose religious convictions had a habit of changing with the times—had retained all his property, and he undertook to take my two young sisters and bring them up as his own children. This kindness on his part relieved my parents of much anxiety; but there was still the difficulty as to what to do with me. At last it was decided, in the absence of anything better, that I should go to sea; and accordingly, although I did not at all care for the idea, to sea I had to go, since no other course was open to me. My father secured me a berth as cabin-boy on board a vessel called theDelight, trading between London and ports on the Mediterranean, and commanded by a man named Thomas West. It had happened that my father, in the time of his prosperity, had been able to do this man a service, and that was the reason why he took me on board his ship; and I am bound to say that he was always very kind to me. The time for the next voyage came round only too quickly for my liking, and I bade a sad farewell to my father and mother, who somehow scraped up money enough to go to London with me to see me off, little dreaming, poor souls, that they would never see me again.”The pirate’s voice shook slightly; he paused for a moment, and brushed the back of his hand across his eyes; then, clearing his throat, he resumed: “We left London in the latter part of the year 1547, when I was very nearly sixteen years of age, and, sailing down the English Channel, we entered the Bay of Biscay and touched at our first port, which was Bordeaux. From thence we sailed again, and—just before Christmas it was, I remember—we cleared the Straits of Jebel-al-Tarik, as the Moors call them, and entered the great inland sea. We coasted down its shores, touching first at Barcelona, for we were not then at war with Spain, and then at Marseilles, from which port we struck across for Sicily, intending to call at Palermo. But on the way there we fell in with a Barbary corsair. Our captain was a brave man, and determined to fight to the last, as he had a very valuable cargo on board. The fight began early in the morning, and the pirate tried at first to ram our ship with his sharp beak; but the wind was good, and our ship was so nimble, and answered her helm so well, that we were able to avoid the rushes of the corsair, although he nearly had us on one occasion. Finding that these tactics did not answer, he drew off and, turning his broadside to us, lacked us through and through with his ordnance until we were a mere floating wreck, and half our ship’s company lay dead on our decks. We replied as well as we could; but, being only a merchant-ship, we were not nearly so heavily armed as the corsair; and, our men being untrained in warfare, very few of our shot hit him, so that the rascal was but little the worse. Their captain then hailed us, and asked whether we would surrender; but the master of theDelightshouted back that if he wanted the ship he must come and take her.“Whereat he came at us again, and laid himself alongside us, we not being able to move by this time, owing to our having lost all our masts, and being so encumbered with wreckage that we could do nothing. About a hundred fierce and bloodthirsty ruffians swarmed aboard us and began to cut us down and drive us toward the fore-part of the ship, while we, on our side, fought bravely enough with what weapons we could lay our hands on. But at last our gallant captain fell dead, cut down by the scimitar of a gigantic blackamoor, and the rest of us—very few by that time, I can assure you,—seeing this, threw down our arms and surrendered to the corsairs. There were then but seventeen of us left, all told, and not one of us but had his wound to show as the result of the fight. Five out of that seventeen, indeed, were so badly wounded that they died of their hurts before the corsair reached her port, leaving only twelve of us, all Englishmen, to be sent into slavery. After the corsairs had removed us to their own ship, they stripped theDelightof all that she carried, transferring all her cargo to their own hold. They were greatly pleased at the result of their day’s work—for they had made a good haul—and made all haste to return to their port, which was Tunis. But before bearing up they set fire to our ship, and when we last saw theDelightshe was blazing merrily. I make no doubt that she sank shortly afterwards, leaving no trace behind.”“You’m wrong there, mate,” broke in Jake Irwin. “Don’t you mind that it rained heavily soon afterwards? Well, the rain put out the fire, and an English ship comin’ up found her still smoulderin’, with enough of her left to show that she was theDelight. She brought the news of the loss of theDelightinto Plymouth—I remember hearin’ all about it,—and it was thought she had took fire in the ordinary way, and that her crew, havin’ gone off in the boats, was a’terwards lost. No one ever gave a thought to pirates or corsairs.”“Ah,” resumed Evans, “would to God that that vessel had come up sooner! We should have been saved—those left of us—from a living death that lasted for many years. Yes, now you come to mention it, I remember the rain; but we never dreamed that it would put out the fire, for we left her burning furiously. Well, the other ship was too late, and it makes no difference now. But, to get on with my yarn. We reached the port of Tunis about ten days later, and there was much joy there when it was found what a valuable cargo the corsair had brought back; and the joy was all the greater because of the twelve white prisoners, for white slaves are reckoned very valuable in those parts, and there hadn’t been any taken for a very long while. We were all put up to auction, and the man who bid highest got the man he fancied. A big Moor from the back-country took a liking for me, for I was a fine strapping youngster then, although you mightn’t think it to look at me now. Well, he bought me, but me only; so I said good-bye to my comrades, never expecting to see them again, and we set off with my master’s caravan for the interior.“His home must have been some hundreds of miles in the interior, for it took us over two months of travelling every day to get there. We struck from the town of Tunis south-eastwards, as I could tell by the sun. After travelling for a long time we came to a big river, with fields of rice on each side of it, and beyond them the burning desert, with hills and mountains behind that again. When we came to the river we left the camels, and proceeded in boats until we came to a mighty waterfall, where we quitted the river for a time, and went a little way overland; then we took to the river again. This we did four times, and at last, after more than two months, travelling all the time, we came to a big town, built all of white stone, very fine to see. All around were green places like parks, with wells of good water in them; and there were palm-trees all about, and palaces of white marble; it was a lovely place for a free man to live in, but for a slave it was dreadful.“Well, my masters, I was kept here for ten long years, during which I learnt the language, and found that the city in which I dwelt was named Khartoum. Then I began to fall ill; I looked old with suffering, and could not do the tasks allotted to me. I was whipped, and burnt with red-hot irons; but even such cruelties as these did not make me do any more work—for indeed I was more dead than alive,—so at last my master said he would send me down the river to the sea-coast, and sell me there as a galley-slave, as I was of no more use to him, while I should be made to work when I was in the galleys. So, with six others in like condition, I was sent off one morning, in charge of a guard, down the river, passing on our way six waterfalls or cataracts, as also many ruined temples and palaces of great age and beauty, with no men in them.“After nearly two months of travelling, having passed many towns and villages on the way, we came one morning to a place on the river where we halted; and away in the desert I could see three great buildings, broad and square at the bottom, rising to a great height, and terminating in a point. I asked about them of our captors, and they told me that they were tombs of ancient kings of Egypt, and of great age.“Leaving these, we went on again, and in course of time came to the city of Alexandria, where our journey ended. We stayed there several weeks, and then I—being by this time recovered from my sickness,—with the other six men, was sold to the captain of a corsair galley, who wanted a few more slaves to make up his complement of rowers.“And now began the worst years of my life. For six long years, my masters, I sweated in a hot sun, with no shelter; toiling at the great heavy sweeps with the other slaves; always kept to our work by the whip of the bo’sun. Ah, the torment of those years! The recollection of them would never leave me, were I to live to the age of the patriarchs of old. We pursued other craft—mostly merchantmen—and took them; and those of the slaves who were killed by the shot of the other ships were replaced by their crews.“Many a time did I pray that I should be one of those to find death; but it never came to me, though often enough to the men by my side. At last, one day we attacked a Spanish vessel—for we had gone down towards the Straits of Jebel-al-Tarik—that looked like a harmless merchant-ship, but she proved to be a war-ship disguised on purpose to take us, and others like us. After more than an hour’s fighting, during which nearly all our men were killed, she took us; and I, with the other Englishmen on board the galley, gave thanks to God, for we foolishly thought that all our troubles were now over. But we were soon to find out our mistake. There was now war between England and Spain, and we quickly discovered that we had merely made an exchange of masters.“We were taken on board the Spaniard and the galley was sunk. Her owners were all hanged, being heathens, but we Englishmen were considered heretics, and we were to be reserved for the Holy Inquisition, that that office might convert us from our sins, and ‘save us from everlasting flame’, as the Spanish Dons put it. We were landed at Cartagena, in Spain, and I, with eight others, was thrown into prison, to await my trial at the hands of the Holy Office. One by one we were tried, and all found guilty of ‘heresy’. Then they asked if we would recant. We all refused, with the natural result that we were put to the torture. Oh, my masters, pray daily and nightly that you may never fall into the hands of the Holy Inquisition! Those years that I spent on the galley were as heaven compared to being in the hands of the Dons.“I will not tell you how they tortured us—for indeed the story will not bear telling,—but I bear the marks of their irons and the rack to this day. My companions steadfastly refused to renounce their faith, and after enduring the most hideous and awful tortures they were burnt alive. I know not whether my tortures were worse than theirs, but at last I could bear them no longer, and I recanted, to gain release from my daily pain. But I was mistaken in supposing that this late conversion was going to save me. I was tortured again, for my past obstinacy, and then, instead of being released, I was sent to their galleys, to spend the remainder of my life therein. By turning Romanist I had indeed saved myself from burning, but not from that living hell, the life of a galley-slave.“I was, then, sent to the galleys, and remained there, how long I know not, but it seemed to be several years. During the time that I was in the Spanish galley—for I remained on the same vessel all the time,—we, together with other vessels, made several attacks upon English ships, but we were beaten off with heavy loss in every case except one, and that was when we captured a small English merchantman called theDainty, the unfortunate crew of which, I suppose, were put into the Inquisition, as I had been. These many conflicts were productive of heavy casualties among the slaves, many more, indeed, than among the soldiers and sailors who composed our fighting-crew, for, when chasing another vessel, or attacking her broadside to broadside, our enemy generally depressed his guns in order to hull and if possible sink us, as in that way only could they prevent us from running alongside. And every shot that pierced a galley’s hull was certain to kill or maim at least four or five slaves. But our masters cared nothing for that; when one crew of galley-slaves was exhausted, another batch was sent for to take their place. There were always plenty of slaves to be had from the Spanish prisons, and the men we got from them were an even more cruel and wicked set of rascals than the men who called themselves our masters.“Well, I had been a galley-slave among the Spaniards for some years—how many years, exactly, I cannot tell you, for after a time my senses became so deadened that I could not take the trouble to count up and remember the days and weeks as they passed; indeed I became more like an animal than a human being. I had been with the Spaniards for several years, I say, when one day we sighted an English merchantman, as we thought, and chased her. She appeared to be sailing but slowly, and we very soon caught her up, to find that we had walked, or rather sailed, into a deeply-laid trap. The Englishman, it appeared, had adopted a ruse similar to that practised by the Spaniards when they captured the corsair from Alexandria. The English had disguised their vessel—which was a war-ship—to look like an innocent and harmless merchant’s trading-vessel, and to retard her speed and allow us to come up with her they had dropped overboard a couple of light spars connected together by a broad piece of stout sail-cloth, the whole of the apparatus being secured to the stern of the vessel by a stout rope. Thus the passage of the ship through the water caused this piece of canvas between the two spars to open, when it acted as a drag upon her, and reduced her speed so considerably that we soon overtook her. But no sooner were we well under her guns than she opened fire, and before we could get alongside her she had worked fearful execution both among our fighting-crew and also the slaves. Our eyes were now opened to the true character of the vessel, and the crew no longer had any desire to come to close quarters with her; so they put up their helm and bore away with all speed for Cadiz, the port nearest to us.“And then began a chase that I shall never forget so long as I live, sirs. With our full crew we might perhaps have been a match for the English ship in point of speed, but half our galley-slaves were killed, and the Englishman, having now cut away his drag, was coming up with us hand over hand. The slave-drivers came down among us, and, standing on the drivers’ plank, running down the centre of the galley, drove us to superhuman exertions by the merciless blows of their heavy-thonged whips, the lashes of which were plaited up with small lead balls on them. They even used the flat of their sword-blades to our backs, and after that, when the English ship still continued to overhaul us, they drew the edges of their weapons along our flesh, making the blood spurt. We were, as you perhaps know, all manacled together, and at least half our slaves were killed by the enemy’s shot. The floor of the vessel was ankle-deep in blood, and the corpses of the dead, still manacled to the living—for there was no time to separate us,—kept time with our strokes as we pulled, in a manner most horrible to look upon. The man next me had had his head cut off by a cannon-shot—I remember at the time wishing it had been mine,—and with every stroke I pulled his corpse moved also, and with each movement jets of blood gushed up from the torn veins, which were protruding from the gory neck, and flooded me. Well, the vessel still continued to gain on us, and I saw the Spanish dogs of slave-drivers whispering together, and presently they called for buckets of fire. These were brought, full of glowing charcoal, and into them irons were thrust. The unhappy slaves saw what was in store for them, and pulled until their muscles cracked. Soon the irons were white-hot, and the chief driver called to us in Spanish: ‘We must escape that cursed heretic-ship yonder. Now, you all see these irons? If I see one of you flagging in your efforts, that man will be branded with them, and when we get into harbour will be handed over to the office of the Holy Inquisition as a heretic and an aider and abettor of heretics.’ This cruel threat drove us all nearly mad, and—for we knew what that meant—our muscles cracked again as we laboured on at the oars, hampered as we were by the bloody corpses of our fellow-slaves. For myself, I was away from the centre of the galley, I thank God! and near an open port, so I got a little air, which refreshed me; but I presently saw one of the poor fellows near the middle of the vessel, where the air was stifling, begin to relax his exertions. He was fainting with the heat and fatigue of the chase. The chief slave-driver, whose name, I remember, was Alvarez, saw it too, and called out: ‘Juan, this heretic is fainting; bring the fire-bucket.’“The man brought it; Alvarez took out a white-hot iron, and—oh, sirs, I cannot describe what then happened, but I can hear that man’s shrieks now, as I tell of it! It was awful; and would shrivel my tongue to relate, and your ears to hear. Well, sirs, not to harrow you further by those fearful methods of making us work, we at last got into Cadiz, and escaped the English ship; but more than half of the remaining slaves died from their exertions.“Our diminished crew was replenished by a lot of men from the prisons of Spain, and among them was a man named José Leirya. This man was my evil genius; and, as he marked the turning-point in my life from good to evil, I may as well describe his appearance; for he is on these seas now, and I wish you to know the man, so that if you should meet him with a sufficient force to capture him, you may recognise the villain. He was sent down to the galley one morning with a number of other men, to make up her complement afresh after the encounter with the Englishman. I recognised him for a leader of men the moment he came aboard the galley, and, as he was chained next to me on the same tier, I had ample opportunity for observing his appearance. He was an enormously tall and broad man, of extremely dark complexion. He said he was of Portugal, but I should say he had more Moorish blood in him than anything else. He wore his hair long, and it fell in thick black ringlets over his broad shoulders. A huge moustache concealed his lips, and a long black beard hid his chin; indeed the man was so hairy that he had the appearance of being an ape rather than a man. One of his eyes—which were jet black in colour, with whites which turned red when he flew into a rage—had a very perceptible cast in it; the left eye, I remember it was. His nose had been broken, and had a tremendous twist to starboard; and he had lost his right ear in a stabbing affray in the streets of Lisbon. In the left he now wears a huge gold ear-ring, shaped something like a nut, with an enormous emerald set in it. Such was the exterior appearance of the man who was to change both my life and that of others, José Leirya, murderer and galley-slave, then mutineer, and, lastly, pirate and villain of villains, slayer of hundreds of innocent folk, slave-dealer, incendiary, and bloodthirsty monster, for whom no death is bad enough. Remember my description of the man, sirs, for he presents the very same appearance at the present day. I should know, for but two short months since I was on his vessel; and, God forgive me, I believe I was not much better than he. But to continue my yarn. This man came aboard with about a hundred others; and I perceived at once—although our jailers did not seem to notice the fact—that there was some kind of arrangement or understanding between José Leirya and a number of the new galley-slaves. What it meant I did not know until afterwards. We left Cadiz, and our captain, thinking perhaps that the Mediterranean Sea was not suitable for his enterprises, determined to take the galley to the West Indies and try his fortune there. So we started away across the great Atlantic Ocean.“As I have told you, José Leirya was chained next to me; but he never once spoke to me until after we had left the Western Isles. A few days after that, however, he one evening disclosed to me his plan for seizing the galley, and I then knew what the understanding had been between himself and a large number of the prisoners who came aboard the galley with him. On a certain night—which would fall about eight days later—at midnight, on a given signal, all were to rise and overpower the soldiers and sailors of the ship, seize her for ourselves, and use her for our own purposes. You will ask, how were we to get rid of our manacles? Well, it was thus arranged, sirs. José Leirya had brought on board, cunningly concealed in his clothing, a number of small saws, of exceeding fine temper and sharpness. They would cut through our manacles as a knife cuts through wood. These he gave out to some of the slaves, and on the night arranged they were to cut the links of their iron manacles and pass the tools on to the others. This would, of course, leave the iron rings round our wrists and ankles, but we should be free to move and fight; and after we had won the ship we could get the rings off at our leisure. The saws were given out one by one, the greatest care being taken that they were not discovered, and immediately after dark on the eventful night we began to cut our fetters, the galley being then under sail and the oars laid in. By midnight we were ready, and waiting for the signal. It came as a shrill whistle from Leirya’s lips. At the sound we all swarmed up on deck; and, as most of the officers and seamen were asleep below, we quickly overcame the watch. We gave no quarter, knowing that none would be given to us, and we took no prisoners. Then, going to the companion-hatches, we cried ‘Fire!’ and as our former masters came running up in their shirts, they were seized and flung overboard. None of them suspected any plot, and the vessel was soon in our hands.“We then took counsel among ourselves to elect officers, and determine upon our future movements. José Leirya was, of course, elected captain, and, for some reason that I cannot make out, I was chosen for first mate. Then for our plans. We were about in the middle of the North Atlantic, perhaps a little more than half-way to the West Indian Islands; so we determined to run there, take a ship on our way, if we could, and if not, capture one in the first port we could reach—for the galley was of little use to us for our purposes. Ah! if I had but known, if I could but have foreseen what was to happen in the future, what deeds I should be called upon to do, rather would I have suffered death by torture than have joined in the mutiny! But I did not then know that José Leirya intended to become a pirate, or that he meditated those awful atrocities that have made men curse his name, and swear to hunt him down and make his end worse than a dog’s! At length, when the ship had been ours for a matter of fifteen days, and was approaching the islands, our lookout one afternoon reported a large ship coming up from the westward. Our hearts leaped with anticipation, but we kept a very cautious lookout lest she should prove to be a war-vessel. As she came nearer, however, we saw that she was a large merchant-vessel flying the flag of Spain—that country that we had grown to hate with a hatred passing words. She had not noticed us as yet, for we lay low in the water and had no sail set. As soon, however, as she saw us coming toward her, she made all sail to escape, and we followed in full pursuit. Then, finding that weweregaining upon her, she went about, evidently with the intention of returning to the islands; but she was doomed to be our prey. Every man of us, even Leirya himself, joined the crew of oarsmen below, leaving only the helmsman on deck to steer and to report progress to us below. Thus every oar was fully manned, and we swept along after her, gaining on her hand over hand, until about the middle of the afternoon the man at the helm threw us alongside her—for she was unarmed with cannon and could not fire at us—and we all swarmed up from below and on to her decks. Such was our ferocity that we cleared their deck at once, leaving dead and wounded in our path, the whole of whom—quick and dead alike—we at once flung overboard.“We did not require the galley any longer, so we took all her guns and arms, and furnished the ship with them, sinking the galley afterwards, and thus hiding all trace of our former crime. We got under way directly after this, still making for the islands, and then provisions and wine, of which there were plenty on the ship, were got up, and we caroused and made merry for the rest of the day.“We soon found that the new vessel was not suitable for us; but she was ere long the means of enabling us to obtain another to suit our purpose, without any loss of life to us.”
Crouching over the fire, the marooned man proceeded to tell his story.
“Well,” he began, “I must tell you first that I was born in the year 1532, in the town of Monmouth, in Wales, of purely Welsh parents, bearing the ancient name of Evans. In my early youth I kept about the house and tended our flock of sheep, of which we had a great many, on the dear old Welsh mountains. This life suited me well, for I was of a studious frame of mind, fond of learning, and I read and studied much while out on the hills with the sheep. At this time our family was very prosperous; but not long afterwards England began to be torn by those religious struggles, which I doubt not you two older men will well remember, and we were unfortunate enough to have our lands confiscated by that tyrant, King Henry the Eighth, and, from a state of prosperity and the possession of all we could reasonably wish, my family found itself landless, without money, and even without a home. Besides myself, there were two other children, both girls; and what worried my poor parents most was the problem of what to do with us three children. Fortunately an uncle of my mother—a man whose religious convictions had a habit of changing with the times—had retained all his property, and he undertook to take my two young sisters and bring them up as his own children. This kindness on his part relieved my parents of much anxiety; but there was still the difficulty as to what to do with me. At last it was decided, in the absence of anything better, that I should go to sea; and accordingly, although I did not at all care for the idea, to sea I had to go, since no other course was open to me. My father secured me a berth as cabin-boy on board a vessel called theDelight, trading between London and ports on the Mediterranean, and commanded by a man named Thomas West. It had happened that my father, in the time of his prosperity, had been able to do this man a service, and that was the reason why he took me on board his ship; and I am bound to say that he was always very kind to me. The time for the next voyage came round only too quickly for my liking, and I bade a sad farewell to my father and mother, who somehow scraped up money enough to go to London with me to see me off, little dreaming, poor souls, that they would never see me again.”
The pirate’s voice shook slightly; he paused for a moment, and brushed the back of his hand across his eyes; then, clearing his throat, he resumed: “We left London in the latter part of the year 1547, when I was very nearly sixteen years of age, and, sailing down the English Channel, we entered the Bay of Biscay and touched at our first port, which was Bordeaux. From thence we sailed again, and—just before Christmas it was, I remember—we cleared the Straits of Jebel-al-Tarik, as the Moors call them, and entered the great inland sea. We coasted down its shores, touching first at Barcelona, for we were not then at war with Spain, and then at Marseilles, from which port we struck across for Sicily, intending to call at Palermo. But on the way there we fell in with a Barbary corsair. Our captain was a brave man, and determined to fight to the last, as he had a very valuable cargo on board. The fight began early in the morning, and the pirate tried at first to ram our ship with his sharp beak; but the wind was good, and our ship was so nimble, and answered her helm so well, that we were able to avoid the rushes of the corsair, although he nearly had us on one occasion. Finding that these tactics did not answer, he drew off and, turning his broadside to us, lacked us through and through with his ordnance until we were a mere floating wreck, and half our ship’s company lay dead on our decks. We replied as well as we could; but, being only a merchant-ship, we were not nearly so heavily armed as the corsair; and, our men being untrained in warfare, very few of our shot hit him, so that the rascal was but little the worse. Their captain then hailed us, and asked whether we would surrender; but the master of theDelightshouted back that if he wanted the ship he must come and take her.
“Whereat he came at us again, and laid himself alongside us, we not being able to move by this time, owing to our having lost all our masts, and being so encumbered with wreckage that we could do nothing. About a hundred fierce and bloodthirsty ruffians swarmed aboard us and began to cut us down and drive us toward the fore-part of the ship, while we, on our side, fought bravely enough with what weapons we could lay our hands on. But at last our gallant captain fell dead, cut down by the scimitar of a gigantic blackamoor, and the rest of us—very few by that time, I can assure you,—seeing this, threw down our arms and surrendered to the corsairs. There were then but seventeen of us left, all told, and not one of us but had his wound to show as the result of the fight. Five out of that seventeen, indeed, were so badly wounded that they died of their hurts before the corsair reached her port, leaving only twelve of us, all Englishmen, to be sent into slavery. After the corsairs had removed us to their own ship, they stripped theDelightof all that she carried, transferring all her cargo to their own hold. They were greatly pleased at the result of their day’s work—for they had made a good haul—and made all haste to return to their port, which was Tunis. But before bearing up they set fire to our ship, and when we last saw theDelightshe was blazing merrily. I make no doubt that she sank shortly afterwards, leaving no trace behind.”
“You’m wrong there, mate,” broke in Jake Irwin. “Don’t you mind that it rained heavily soon afterwards? Well, the rain put out the fire, and an English ship comin’ up found her still smoulderin’, with enough of her left to show that she was theDelight. She brought the news of the loss of theDelightinto Plymouth—I remember hearin’ all about it,—and it was thought she had took fire in the ordinary way, and that her crew, havin’ gone off in the boats, was a’terwards lost. No one ever gave a thought to pirates or corsairs.”
“Ah,” resumed Evans, “would to God that that vessel had come up sooner! We should have been saved—those left of us—from a living death that lasted for many years. Yes, now you come to mention it, I remember the rain; but we never dreamed that it would put out the fire, for we left her burning furiously. Well, the other ship was too late, and it makes no difference now. But, to get on with my yarn. We reached the port of Tunis about ten days later, and there was much joy there when it was found what a valuable cargo the corsair had brought back; and the joy was all the greater because of the twelve white prisoners, for white slaves are reckoned very valuable in those parts, and there hadn’t been any taken for a very long while. We were all put up to auction, and the man who bid highest got the man he fancied. A big Moor from the back-country took a liking for me, for I was a fine strapping youngster then, although you mightn’t think it to look at me now. Well, he bought me, but me only; so I said good-bye to my comrades, never expecting to see them again, and we set off with my master’s caravan for the interior.
“His home must have been some hundreds of miles in the interior, for it took us over two months of travelling every day to get there. We struck from the town of Tunis south-eastwards, as I could tell by the sun. After travelling for a long time we came to a big river, with fields of rice on each side of it, and beyond them the burning desert, with hills and mountains behind that again. When we came to the river we left the camels, and proceeded in boats until we came to a mighty waterfall, where we quitted the river for a time, and went a little way overland; then we took to the river again. This we did four times, and at last, after more than two months, travelling all the time, we came to a big town, built all of white stone, very fine to see. All around were green places like parks, with wells of good water in them; and there were palm-trees all about, and palaces of white marble; it was a lovely place for a free man to live in, but for a slave it was dreadful.
“Well, my masters, I was kept here for ten long years, during which I learnt the language, and found that the city in which I dwelt was named Khartoum. Then I began to fall ill; I looked old with suffering, and could not do the tasks allotted to me. I was whipped, and burnt with red-hot irons; but even such cruelties as these did not make me do any more work—for indeed I was more dead than alive,—so at last my master said he would send me down the river to the sea-coast, and sell me there as a galley-slave, as I was of no more use to him, while I should be made to work when I was in the galleys. So, with six others in like condition, I was sent off one morning, in charge of a guard, down the river, passing on our way six waterfalls or cataracts, as also many ruined temples and palaces of great age and beauty, with no men in them.
“After nearly two months of travelling, having passed many towns and villages on the way, we came one morning to a place on the river where we halted; and away in the desert I could see three great buildings, broad and square at the bottom, rising to a great height, and terminating in a point. I asked about them of our captors, and they told me that they were tombs of ancient kings of Egypt, and of great age.
“Leaving these, we went on again, and in course of time came to the city of Alexandria, where our journey ended. We stayed there several weeks, and then I—being by this time recovered from my sickness,—with the other six men, was sold to the captain of a corsair galley, who wanted a few more slaves to make up his complement of rowers.
“And now began the worst years of my life. For six long years, my masters, I sweated in a hot sun, with no shelter; toiling at the great heavy sweeps with the other slaves; always kept to our work by the whip of the bo’sun. Ah, the torment of those years! The recollection of them would never leave me, were I to live to the age of the patriarchs of old. We pursued other craft—mostly merchantmen—and took them; and those of the slaves who were killed by the shot of the other ships were replaced by their crews.
“Many a time did I pray that I should be one of those to find death; but it never came to me, though often enough to the men by my side. At last, one day we attacked a Spanish vessel—for we had gone down towards the Straits of Jebel-al-Tarik—that looked like a harmless merchant-ship, but she proved to be a war-ship disguised on purpose to take us, and others like us. After more than an hour’s fighting, during which nearly all our men were killed, she took us; and I, with the other Englishmen on board the galley, gave thanks to God, for we foolishly thought that all our troubles were now over. But we were soon to find out our mistake. There was now war between England and Spain, and we quickly discovered that we had merely made an exchange of masters.
“We were taken on board the Spaniard and the galley was sunk. Her owners were all hanged, being heathens, but we Englishmen were considered heretics, and we were to be reserved for the Holy Inquisition, that that office might convert us from our sins, and ‘save us from everlasting flame’, as the Spanish Dons put it. We were landed at Cartagena, in Spain, and I, with eight others, was thrown into prison, to await my trial at the hands of the Holy Office. One by one we were tried, and all found guilty of ‘heresy’. Then they asked if we would recant. We all refused, with the natural result that we were put to the torture. Oh, my masters, pray daily and nightly that you may never fall into the hands of the Holy Inquisition! Those years that I spent on the galley were as heaven compared to being in the hands of the Dons.
“I will not tell you how they tortured us—for indeed the story will not bear telling,—but I bear the marks of their irons and the rack to this day. My companions steadfastly refused to renounce their faith, and after enduring the most hideous and awful tortures they were burnt alive. I know not whether my tortures were worse than theirs, but at last I could bear them no longer, and I recanted, to gain release from my daily pain. But I was mistaken in supposing that this late conversion was going to save me. I was tortured again, for my past obstinacy, and then, instead of being released, I was sent to their galleys, to spend the remainder of my life therein. By turning Romanist I had indeed saved myself from burning, but not from that living hell, the life of a galley-slave.
“I was, then, sent to the galleys, and remained there, how long I know not, but it seemed to be several years. During the time that I was in the Spanish galley—for I remained on the same vessel all the time,—we, together with other vessels, made several attacks upon English ships, but we were beaten off with heavy loss in every case except one, and that was when we captured a small English merchantman called theDainty, the unfortunate crew of which, I suppose, were put into the Inquisition, as I had been. These many conflicts were productive of heavy casualties among the slaves, many more, indeed, than among the soldiers and sailors who composed our fighting-crew, for, when chasing another vessel, or attacking her broadside to broadside, our enemy generally depressed his guns in order to hull and if possible sink us, as in that way only could they prevent us from running alongside. And every shot that pierced a galley’s hull was certain to kill or maim at least four or five slaves. But our masters cared nothing for that; when one crew of galley-slaves was exhausted, another batch was sent for to take their place. There were always plenty of slaves to be had from the Spanish prisons, and the men we got from them were an even more cruel and wicked set of rascals than the men who called themselves our masters.
“Well, I had been a galley-slave among the Spaniards for some years—how many years, exactly, I cannot tell you, for after a time my senses became so deadened that I could not take the trouble to count up and remember the days and weeks as they passed; indeed I became more like an animal than a human being. I had been with the Spaniards for several years, I say, when one day we sighted an English merchantman, as we thought, and chased her. She appeared to be sailing but slowly, and we very soon caught her up, to find that we had walked, or rather sailed, into a deeply-laid trap. The Englishman, it appeared, had adopted a ruse similar to that practised by the Spaniards when they captured the corsair from Alexandria. The English had disguised their vessel—which was a war-ship—to look like an innocent and harmless merchant’s trading-vessel, and to retard her speed and allow us to come up with her they had dropped overboard a couple of light spars connected together by a broad piece of stout sail-cloth, the whole of the apparatus being secured to the stern of the vessel by a stout rope. Thus the passage of the ship through the water caused this piece of canvas between the two spars to open, when it acted as a drag upon her, and reduced her speed so considerably that we soon overtook her. But no sooner were we well under her guns than she opened fire, and before we could get alongside her she had worked fearful execution both among our fighting-crew and also the slaves. Our eyes were now opened to the true character of the vessel, and the crew no longer had any desire to come to close quarters with her; so they put up their helm and bore away with all speed for Cadiz, the port nearest to us.
“And then began a chase that I shall never forget so long as I live, sirs. With our full crew we might perhaps have been a match for the English ship in point of speed, but half our galley-slaves were killed, and the Englishman, having now cut away his drag, was coming up with us hand over hand. The slave-drivers came down among us, and, standing on the drivers’ plank, running down the centre of the galley, drove us to superhuman exertions by the merciless blows of their heavy-thonged whips, the lashes of which were plaited up with small lead balls on them. They even used the flat of their sword-blades to our backs, and after that, when the English ship still continued to overhaul us, they drew the edges of their weapons along our flesh, making the blood spurt. We were, as you perhaps know, all manacled together, and at least half our slaves were killed by the enemy’s shot. The floor of the vessel was ankle-deep in blood, and the corpses of the dead, still manacled to the living—for there was no time to separate us,—kept time with our strokes as we pulled, in a manner most horrible to look upon. The man next me had had his head cut off by a cannon-shot—I remember at the time wishing it had been mine,—and with every stroke I pulled his corpse moved also, and with each movement jets of blood gushed up from the torn veins, which were protruding from the gory neck, and flooded me. Well, the vessel still continued to gain on us, and I saw the Spanish dogs of slave-drivers whispering together, and presently they called for buckets of fire. These were brought, full of glowing charcoal, and into them irons were thrust. The unhappy slaves saw what was in store for them, and pulled until their muscles cracked. Soon the irons were white-hot, and the chief driver called to us in Spanish: ‘We must escape that cursed heretic-ship yonder. Now, you all see these irons? If I see one of you flagging in your efforts, that man will be branded with them, and when we get into harbour will be handed over to the office of the Holy Inquisition as a heretic and an aider and abettor of heretics.’ This cruel threat drove us all nearly mad, and—for we knew what that meant—our muscles cracked again as we laboured on at the oars, hampered as we were by the bloody corpses of our fellow-slaves. For myself, I was away from the centre of the galley, I thank God! and near an open port, so I got a little air, which refreshed me; but I presently saw one of the poor fellows near the middle of the vessel, where the air was stifling, begin to relax his exertions. He was fainting with the heat and fatigue of the chase. The chief slave-driver, whose name, I remember, was Alvarez, saw it too, and called out: ‘Juan, this heretic is fainting; bring the fire-bucket.’
“The man brought it; Alvarez took out a white-hot iron, and—oh, sirs, I cannot describe what then happened, but I can hear that man’s shrieks now, as I tell of it! It was awful; and would shrivel my tongue to relate, and your ears to hear. Well, sirs, not to harrow you further by those fearful methods of making us work, we at last got into Cadiz, and escaped the English ship; but more than half of the remaining slaves died from their exertions.
“Our diminished crew was replenished by a lot of men from the prisons of Spain, and among them was a man named José Leirya. This man was my evil genius; and, as he marked the turning-point in my life from good to evil, I may as well describe his appearance; for he is on these seas now, and I wish you to know the man, so that if you should meet him with a sufficient force to capture him, you may recognise the villain. He was sent down to the galley one morning with a number of other men, to make up her complement afresh after the encounter with the Englishman. I recognised him for a leader of men the moment he came aboard the galley, and, as he was chained next to me on the same tier, I had ample opportunity for observing his appearance. He was an enormously tall and broad man, of extremely dark complexion. He said he was of Portugal, but I should say he had more Moorish blood in him than anything else. He wore his hair long, and it fell in thick black ringlets over his broad shoulders. A huge moustache concealed his lips, and a long black beard hid his chin; indeed the man was so hairy that he had the appearance of being an ape rather than a man. One of his eyes—which were jet black in colour, with whites which turned red when he flew into a rage—had a very perceptible cast in it; the left eye, I remember it was. His nose had been broken, and had a tremendous twist to starboard; and he had lost his right ear in a stabbing affray in the streets of Lisbon. In the left he now wears a huge gold ear-ring, shaped something like a nut, with an enormous emerald set in it. Such was the exterior appearance of the man who was to change both my life and that of others, José Leirya, murderer and galley-slave, then mutineer, and, lastly, pirate and villain of villains, slayer of hundreds of innocent folk, slave-dealer, incendiary, and bloodthirsty monster, for whom no death is bad enough. Remember my description of the man, sirs, for he presents the very same appearance at the present day. I should know, for but two short months since I was on his vessel; and, God forgive me, I believe I was not much better than he. But to continue my yarn. This man came aboard with about a hundred others; and I perceived at once—although our jailers did not seem to notice the fact—that there was some kind of arrangement or understanding between José Leirya and a number of the new galley-slaves. What it meant I did not know until afterwards. We left Cadiz, and our captain, thinking perhaps that the Mediterranean Sea was not suitable for his enterprises, determined to take the galley to the West Indies and try his fortune there. So we started away across the great Atlantic Ocean.
“As I have told you, José Leirya was chained next to me; but he never once spoke to me until after we had left the Western Isles. A few days after that, however, he one evening disclosed to me his plan for seizing the galley, and I then knew what the understanding had been between himself and a large number of the prisoners who came aboard the galley with him. On a certain night—which would fall about eight days later—at midnight, on a given signal, all were to rise and overpower the soldiers and sailors of the ship, seize her for ourselves, and use her for our own purposes. You will ask, how were we to get rid of our manacles? Well, it was thus arranged, sirs. José Leirya had brought on board, cunningly concealed in his clothing, a number of small saws, of exceeding fine temper and sharpness. They would cut through our manacles as a knife cuts through wood. These he gave out to some of the slaves, and on the night arranged they were to cut the links of their iron manacles and pass the tools on to the others. This would, of course, leave the iron rings round our wrists and ankles, but we should be free to move and fight; and after we had won the ship we could get the rings off at our leisure. The saws were given out one by one, the greatest care being taken that they were not discovered, and immediately after dark on the eventful night we began to cut our fetters, the galley being then under sail and the oars laid in. By midnight we were ready, and waiting for the signal. It came as a shrill whistle from Leirya’s lips. At the sound we all swarmed up on deck; and, as most of the officers and seamen were asleep below, we quickly overcame the watch. We gave no quarter, knowing that none would be given to us, and we took no prisoners. Then, going to the companion-hatches, we cried ‘Fire!’ and as our former masters came running up in their shirts, they were seized and flung overboard. None of them suspected any plot, and the vessel was soon in our hands.
“We then took counsel among ourselves to elect officers, and determine upon our future movements. José Leirya was, of course, elected captain, and, for some reason that I cannot make out, I was chosen for first mate. Then for our plans. We were about in the middle of the North Atlantic, perhaps a little more than half-way to the West Indian Islands; so we determined to run there, take a ship on our way, if we could, and if not, capture one in the first port we could reach—for the galley was of little use to us for our purposes. Ah! if I had but known, if I could but have foreseen what was to happen in the future, what deeds I should be called upon to do, rather would I have suffered death by torture than have joined in the mutiny! But I did not then know that José Leirya intended to become a pirate, or that he meditated those awful atrocities that have made men curse his name, and swear to hunt him down and make his end worse than a dog’s! At length, when the ship had been ours for a matter of fifteen days, and was approaching the islands, our lookout one afternoon reported a large ship coming up from the westward. Our hearts leaped with anticipation, but we kept a very cautious lookout lest she should prove to be a war-vessel. As she came nearer, however, we saw that she was a large merchant-vessel flying the flag of Spain—that country that we had grown to hate with a hatred passing words. She had not noticed us as yet, for we lay low in the water and had no sail set. As soon, however, as she saw us coming toward her, she made all sail to escape, and we followed in full pursuit. Then, finding that weweregaining upon her, she went about, evidently with the intention of returning to the islands; but she was doomed to be our prey. Every man of us, even Leirya himself, joined the crew of oarsmen below, leaving only the helmsman on deck to steer and to report progress to us below. Thus every oar was fully manned, and we swept along after her, gaining on her hand over hand, until about the middle of the afternoon the man at the helm threw us alongside her—for she was unarmed with cannon and could not fire at us—and we all swarmed up from below and on to her decks. Such was our ferocity that we cleared their deck at once, leaving dead and wounded in our path, the whole of whom—quick and dead alike—we at once flung overboard.
“We did not require the galley any longer, so we took all her guns and arms, and furnished the ship with them, sinking the galley afterwards, and thus hiding all trace of our former crime. We got under way directly after this, still making for the islands, and then provisions and wine, of which there were plenty on the ship, were got up, and we caroused and made merry for the rest of the day.
“We soon found that the new vessel was not suitable for us; but she was ere long the means of enabling us to obtain another to suit our purpose, without any loss of life to us.”
Chapter Ten.William Evans continues his Yarn.“We were now about two days’ sail from the island of Porto Rico, and we had discovered from the ship’s papers that it was from the Port of San Juan in that island that she had recently sailed.“The name of the craft was theVilla de Vera Cruz, and our plan was to re-christen her, alter her rig and general appearance, and sail boldly into the Port of San Juan, hoping to be taken for some vessel just arrived from Spain or elsewhere. Then, if unmolested, we should examine the harbour; and, if it were found to contain any vessel suitable for our purpose, the plan was that we were to wait for nightfall, and then board the other vessel by means of the boats, capture her, and sail out of the harbour again before daylight with both vessels. And when once well out of sight of land, and reasonably safe from pursuit, all the survivors of her crew, if any, were to be killed and flung overboard. All stores, cargo, and guns were to be transferred to the new capture, and our present craft sunk—as we had done with the galley.“It had become a saying with us that ‘dead men tell no tales’; so it was agreed to kill every soul we captured, taking care that none escaped us. We should thus—so we believed—keep our movements secret for some considerable period at any rate. For—it is useless for me to attempt to disguise the fact—we had not been in possession of our prize twenty-four hours ere we had agreed to start piracy in earnest, preying on all nations, and selecting some nook where we could hide what treasure we captured.“Well, we duly arrived in the roads of San Juan, and anchored well out of gunshot from the forts, seemingly without exciting any suspicion whatever. We carefully examined the roadstead, and there, sure enough, was just the craft for our purpose; but she was lying right under the guns of the fort. She was a pretty vessel: schooner-rigged, very low in the water, and—as we found out when we took her—of very deep draught; broad in the beam, and ‘flush-decked’ fore and aft, with no raised fore or after castles. We could see, by her open ports, that she carried twelve guns of a side—nine-pounders they were,—with a long gun forward of her foremast that threw a thirty-two pound shot. She was therefore quite heavily armed enough for our purpose, and there would be no need to transfer our old guns to her when she was captured; and we should thus be saved a great deal of labour. Her masts were very long and tapering, with a big rake aft, and from a distance the vessel looked overmasted; but when one got on board her one saw that her great width of beam gave her the stiffness necessary to carry such lofty masts with their corresponding spread of sail. In short, she was just what we wanted, and, indeed, we could not have had a ship better suited to our purpose even though we had built her ourselves. Needless to say, we determined to cut her out from under the guns of the fort, and capture her, at any risk, that very night. During the day we got up our arms, loaded our pistols, sharpened up our swords and cutlasses, and got all ready for the night attack. We were in a fever of impatience to try our luck, and could hardly bring ourselves to wait until dark, still less until midnight, which we decided was the earliest hour at which we could make an attempt. So great was our excitement and impatience that we strove to allay them by drinking raw spirits continually; and by night we were mad with drink, the only effect of which was to turn us into a gang of demons who would stop at nothing. It was perhaps due to the drink—though we did not know it—that we actually took the vessel after all; for we encountered a most stubborn resistance; and had there been any people in the fort, they would certainly have opened fire upon us, and we should have been killed to a man. Luckily, as it happened, for us, there was a carnival in progress in the town that night, and nearly every man in the place was attending it. Those who had not got leave deserted, and went all the same, even to the last sentry; so that when we made our attack there was not a solitary soldier in the fort.“At length the hour came; we got our boats over noiselessly, and pulled away toward the schooner. It was dark as the inside of a wolf’s mouth, and there was but little phosphorescence in the water. We pulled with muffled oars, and were nearly alongside her, when someone on board must have caught a glimpse of the faint flash as our oars dipped, for we heard a voice giving the alarm on board in Spanish. Seemingly they did not want us to know that they were on the alert, and reckoned on giving us the surprise we intended for them; but we had caught the low words of warning, and knew that they were ready for us. We laid our boats alongside one another, and held a whispered council, as a result of which we very slowly and cautiously pulled round to the farther side of the vessel, and boarded her silently there, falling upon the Spaniards in the rear. This was the saving of us, for they had lined the bulwarks on the other side, and had we attempted to board on that side we should never have been successful.“The fight was fierce and grim, and, strangely enough, silent; there was not a cry, save the groans and moans of the wounded and dying. We struggled and fought in silence, and in the dark it was difficult to tell friend from foe. At length, to make my long story a little shorter, we drove them below, and, cutting the vessel’s cable, made sail for the open sea. We had agreed to show a red light to our own vessel, as a signal for her to slip out also, if we were successful; so we looked round for a red lantern, and presently found one. The signal was made, and immediately answered by three flashes of a white light from our old ship, as decided upon before leaving her. Both craft were soon under way for the open sea, and kept each other in view by the light of the stars; and at daybreak we could only just see the land. We kept on, however, until mid-day, to make ourselves doubly safe, by which time we had run the land out of sight; when both craft were hove-to. Then the crew of the prize were brought up on deck; and as we were, after our recent rights, very short-handed, we gave them the choice of joining us or of walking the plank. They were, for the most part, a rascally lot of men, and did not need the persuasion of ‘the plank’ to join us; indeed they seemed glad to have the opportunity. By this means we replenished our crew, and our total number now exceeded by forty-nine that which we were before taking the galley. We had, therefore, a crew of two hundred and twenty-five men, which was a big crew for so small a ship. But then, as Leirya said, we had to provide against casualties. Seventeen men walked the plank, rather than join us, and after that we made the necessary transfer of stores and other material, and sank our old vessel. We were now ready and well equipped for our piratical undertaking, and we started at once on our nefarious career.“I cannot recount to you all that took place, for many long years have passed since I first threw in my lot with that scoundrel, José Leirya; but we took countless ships, and accumulated a vast amount of treasure, the most part of which is buried in a certain spot. I know the bay where the hiding-place is; but exactly where the ‘cache’ itself is I know not. Of that, however, a little later on. To shorten my story—of which I expect you are now heartily tired—I will pass over my life and experiences during the years that I have been with the pirate, until about six months ago. But I must tell you first that, what with fights, disease, punishment by death, accident, and so on, our crew gradually changed until I and two others, with José Leirya himself, were the only survivors of the original galley-slaves. The other men hated me, and for some time had been putting about false reports of me, and other matters to my great harm, until at length Leirya said he would get rid of me. The men clamoured for my death, for I had often sent others of them to their death; but José refused to kill me, as I had been so long with him. He promised to maroon me, however, and the scoundrels had to be satisfied with that promise. They made many attempts, however, to murder me, but I escaped them all.“We did not sight an island for some time, and now, every day, I brooded over the wrong José had done me in listening to the lies of others, and acceding to their demands, and I determined to have my revenge on him. He had always trusted me, and did so still, and I had a key that fitted the lock of his cabin. One day we sighted a ship; and, as it fell calm, the boats were ordered out to pull to her and capture her. Nearly all hands went, including Leirya himself, but I remained behind to help look after the schooner. While they were away, I went into the captain’s cabin, and, finding his keys in the pocket of a jacket of his that hung there, I opened his private drawer and took out all the papers that were there, putting back blank ones of similar appearance to those that I had stolen, relocked the drawer, and replaced the key. I then hid the papers in my own chest, which I was certain José would allow me to take. I will tell you why I stole those papers. It was because I thought I should find the key to his hidden treasure among them; and I was not mistaken. I found it, or what I believe to be it, but it was in cipher; and I have spent nearly all my time since I have been on the island in trying to translate it, but have not been able to do so. I know, however, whereabout the bay is in which the hiding-place is situated. It is at the east end of the island of Cuba, in latitude 20 degrees north, longitude 75 degrees west.“I have those papers still; and before I die I will give them to you, Master Trevose. They may be useful to you; and if you can translate the cipher, why, there are millions there for you, unless, indeed, José Leirya removes them before you can get there. Well, sirs, José did not discover the loss by the time that we fell in with this sand-bank, and, according to his promise to the crew, I was marooned here; but he gave me a musket, with powder and ball, and enough provision to keep me for a year. The men who went in the boat to put me ashore were, however, my most deadly enemies; and before we reached the shore, and when they were far enough away from the vessel not to be seen, they dropped musket and all overboard, leaving me only a very little provision, saying that they did not wish me to die too soon. Then, after landing me, they returned, the ship disappeared, and I have seen no sail but yours since they left me here two months ago. That, gentlemen, is my story. To help you hunt down that bloody pirate, however, I will tell you that he intended sailing up through the bays of Honduras and Guatemala, and through the Yucatan channel into the Gulf of Mexico, to cruise there for merchantmen sailing to and from Vera Cruz and the other ports. And it is there that you will find him, sirs. Chase him; run him down; take him, at all costs, and hang him and his crew from his own yard-arm, and burn his ship; so shall you exterminate one of the most cruel, ferocious, bloodthirsty devils who ever sailed the sea, and avenge me, sirs. For I shall soon die; the hardship and exposure that I have suffered here have killed me! But now that I have told you my story, I can die comfortably, for I have only lived to impart my information to someone else, and so help them to hunt that man down. But see, the dawn is breaking!”The other three had been so intensely interested in the outcast’s tale that the time had passed unnoticed, and the first streaks of dawn were indeed in the sky. Moreover, the wind had dropped, the rain had ceased, and the sea was going down. The unfortunate ex-pirate seemed exhausted by the long recital of his experiences, and looked very weak. Presently he laid himself down on the sand under his shelter, and fell fast asleep through sheer fatigue. The others went outside and took a survey of the beach, and were lucky enough to be able to collect quite a respectable quantity of wreckage, together with several casks of provisions. And they could see several more being gradually washed in, so they were in no danger of starvation, at all events for the present. They at once began to roll up the casks to the shelter, promising themselves a good meal before beginning the work of collecting all on which they could lay their hands. They resolved to collect all that they could, for it was impossible to be sure as to when the three vessels of Cavendish’s fleet would return; they knew that there were too many vicissitudes in a sailor’s life to permit of their absolutely depending upon anything, and they therefore resolved to make every possible provision for a lengthy stay where they were, should such prove to be necessary. That Cavendish would never abandon them they knew, but it was easy to think of a dozen circumstances or accidents to defer his search for them indefinitely.Roger and the two seamen rolled up a few of the casks to the door of the little shelter, and, all feeling very hungry, they determined to broach one of them, as they judged from their appearance that they were provision-casks. They first glanced at the marooned man, to see if he had yet awakened from the slumber into which he had so suddenly fallen, but he was lying in his former position, breathing very heavily, and he had evidently not moved since they left him. Roger remarked to the two seamen: “I fear that poor fellow will not live much longer; he says he is exhausted by exposure and privation, and, looking at him, I can easily believe it. I hope he will live long enough to be taken on board the ships, and so be able to tell his story in his own words to the captain; but unless the squadron appear very soon it will be too late, for I am afraid a few days will see the last of him!” Then, as there seemed no fear of rousing him, they went into the shelter to look for themselves and see how much provision he had left. They found it without difficulty. There was only about three pounds of ships’-biscuit left, and two or three strips of dried meat. This was absolutely all the food that was left, and had it not been for the wreck, and the casks of provisions being washed ashore, their position would have been very serious indeed. Jake Irwin had been searching for some cooking utensil, or some article which could be used as such, and presently appeared with an iron three-legged pot, which was the only thing in the small establishment that would serve their purpose. Meanwhile Roger and Walter Bevan had secured the ex-pirate’s only axe, and were busily engaged in removing the head of one of the casks which they had rolled up opposite to the little shelter. The top presently came away, and they saw, disclosed before their longing and hungry eyes, not the provisions they so much needed, but a hard and rocky mass of caked gunpowder, made useless and solid by the action of the sea-water that had penetrated through the crevices of the cask.“God help us!” exclaimed Roger. “If all these casks hold nothing but powder, we shall slowly starve to death. I hoped they would all be provision-casks; I never thought they would contain aught else!”“Never despair, Master Trevose,” replied Bevan, “they may not be all the same. Let us try another cask. We may have better luck this time.”Disheartened and anxious, they set to work, desperate with hunger, and beat in the head of the next cask with savage blows. And, oh joy! in this cask they at length found the much-needed food in the form of salt pork, with which the barrel was filled.“Hurrah,” shouted Roger, “we are saved after all!”They took out two large pieces. Jake Irwin filled the pot with water from the spring, and, having soon made a fire, they set the meat on to boil. The savoury odour of the cooking meat soon met their nostrils and encouraged them to fresh efforts on the other casks. Strangely enough, though the first cask opened was filled with spoilt gunpowder, all the rest of the barrels had good wholesome provisions in them. The second barrel opened was found to contain ships’-biscuit, the third and fourth salt pork; the fifth had beef in it, and in one or two more casks they found further food, sufficient in all to last them for some months without going on short rations. It was not long ere the meat was sufficiently cooked to satisfy them, and they went in to call Evans and acquaint him with the fact that he could now have a good wholesome meal. They aroused him with great difficulty, and he seemed to be weaker than ever. He revived somewhat under the stimulating influence of the hot food, and told them that if only he had had such food a little earlier it would have saved his life.Their meal finished, they got up a few more casks which had meanwhile come ashore, and gathered more wreckage, piling all their material recovered from the sea in a place of safety well above high-water mark. Having at length collected everything in sight on the beach, the next thing they set themselves to do was to find a suitable spot and erect, with the wreckage that they had found, a hut large enough to contain the entire party with comfort. But first, as Roger very rightly observed, it was necessary and prudent to build a fire the smoke of which could be seen out at sea, and which might serve as a guide to Cavendish in his search for the sand-bank should he happen to be looking for it. Their plan was to feed the fire with damp wood and sea-weed during the day, to produce a thick smoke that could be seen at a long distance out at sea, and to put on dry wood at night to make a bright blaze which could also be seen a long way off. This was soon done, and a site was then selected for the projected hut. Among the palm-trees on the summit of the bank were three trees so placed as to form the points of a fairly spacious triangle. Roger selected these, intending to nail or otherwise secure planks to their trunks, making a three-sided enclosure; leaving space, of course, in one of the sides for a door. A roof they believed they could dispense with, as the trees were not very high, and the tufts of leaves at their summits were so thick, and grew so close together, that it seemed very doubtful whether even the furious rain of the tropics would be able to penetrate them. They found a number of nails in the planks and timbers which they had collected, and these served their purpose. Roger, Jake Irwin, and Walter Bevan worked right manfully at the job of erecting the new hut, and in a few hours it was finished. Evans, poor fellow, was far too weak to take a hand in any of the operations, and lay in his shelter almost unable to move. When the new hut was finished, the builders found the man too far gone to walk, so they brought some planks and put him on them, carrying him up in that way. He was laid gently down and made as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. A pannikin of water was left with him, and some cold provisions placed near him in case he should feel hungry. The others then went away to seek further wreckage and casks, but they found no more. Then they decided to make another shelter wherein to protect their provisions. It was thought advisable to construct this place near the new hut; so the old shelter—such as it was—was taken down and replaced close behind their new structure, and the casks, barrels, and other perishable matters were placed therein as being safer, as well as easier to get at at all times. They were now fairly settled down in their new domain; they had shelter, and plenty of food to last for some months, even on full rations. There was water in abundance to be had from the spring, and altogether their lot was far and away more satisfactory and endurable than that of the poor marooned pirate had been. Besides, there were now four of them, and they had the advantage and comfort of each other’s company, while Evans had been entirely alone with only his own miserable thoughts for companions until Roger and his two seamen made their welcome appearance on the sand-bank. It occurred to Roger that it would be a very good thing to have a flag and flag-staff, because their fuel would not last for ever, and with it would go their only means of signalling to passing ships; so several narrow pieces of wood were nailed together, and the two seamen, both of whom were wearing red shirts, sacrificed those garments in the interests of the community. The lad then split them both down one side, to increase the area of his improvised ensign, and tied the arms together to increase the length. This “flag” was then nailed to the makeshift flag-staff, and Roger and Jake Irwin swarmed up a palm-tree—one of the three composing the posts for the support of the walls of their hut, while Walter Bevan passed up the flag and staff to them from below. Then Roger, with his sword, which he had carried up naked between his teeth, cut away part of the foliage, and the staff was pushed up through the hole thus made, the lower portion being secured to the top of the trunk of the palm-tree. Both men then scrambled down to the ground again and looked up at their handiwork. There it fluttered, far above the tufted crowns of the palm-grove, a large red flag at the top of its lengthy staff, some eighty feet above the ground, and visible, as they judged, at a distance of at least ten miles out at sea on a clear day. This, as Roger remarked, gave them an extra chance of being recovered by the fleet, as the flag would be seen at almost as great a distance as the smoke from the fire, while the two together ensured their being sighted by any vessel that approached the island within ten miles.Satisfied at last with their work, and seeing that there was nothing further for them to do at the moment, Roger determined to make a tour of their little domain; so, leaving Jake Irwin to attend to the sick man Evans, Roger and Walter Bevan set off. Starting from a point on the beach opposite the hut, they began their walk, going towards the eastern end of the sand-bank. They found that the shore was everywhere sand until they had gone some half a mile and nearly reached the end of the island, when they came upon a ledge of rocks over which they had to clamber, and which stretched out for quite a long distance into the sea. The two ventured out some few hundred yards along the ridge to seaward, and found that it had deep water on each side of it, the rock seeming to run perpendicularly down to the sandy bottom. The place struck them as being an excellent situation for fishing from if only they possessed hooks and lines, for, peering down into the water—which was clear as crystal,—they saw all manner of many-hued and beautiful fish disporting themselves below. They gazed admiringly and somewhat longingly at them for a few minutes, determining to return later and attempt to catch some, and then resumed their explorations. They had not gone very far, and were walking side by side, when Roger stumbled over an inequality in the surface of the sand. He passed on, taking no notice of the circumstance, thinking it to be only a stone or piece of rock covered up by the sand; but Bevan, who had noticed the occurrence, stepped back, and, dropping on his knees, began to clear away the sand with his fingers, presently revealing to Roger’s wondering eyes a number of eggs.“Whatever are those?” exclaimed the lad, hardly able to believe his senses. “I suppose they are eggs; they look like eggs; but I have never before heard of eggs being buried in sand.”“These, Master Trevose,” responded the man, smiling at Roger’s astonishment, “are turtles’ eggs, and they are excellent eating, I can assure you. They will be a grand change of food for us, as will the fish when we can catch them. Moreover, having laid these eggs here, the turtle may very possibly come back to this spot to lay more. We will look out for her, and if she returns we must turn her over on her back and then go back and fetch Jake, who will help us to carry her to the hut. We need not worry about fresh meat now, Master Trevose. If we can catch turtle we shall have meat enough to last us for some time.”“I am rejoiced to hear you say so,” returned Roger. “But why turn the turtle on her back, should she make her appearance?”“Well, sir,” replied the man, “the way of it is this. By turnin’ a turtle over on its back you can always make certain that, if you’re obliged to go away and leave it, you’ll find it in the same place when you come back; because if a turtle’s laid on its back it can’t turn over again by itself, and so is perfectly helpless and unable to move.”There were fourteen eggs in the “nest” in the sand; so Roger took off his coat, and, tying the arms together, made a sort of bag of it, into which he carefully put a few of the eggs. Then, carrying his parcel very carefully, they resumed their journey. They found no more eggs at that time, and discovered nothing further of importance, and shortly afterwards arrived back at the hut, having completed their walk round the islet.Irwin reported that the man Evans had called for water, and had seemed in great pain, but had revived a little after drinking, and was now again asleep.The two explorers deposited their burden of eggs, and told Jake of their hopes regarding the turtle, arranging to go down again later and watch for the creature, knowing how important it was to their health to secure as varied a diet as possible. But before setting out again they put a few of the eggs into the hot ashes of the fire and baked them in their shells. When they thought they would be sufficiently cooked, they took them out of the ashes, and roused Evans up with the news that another meal was ready for him.
“We were now about two days’ sail from the island of Porto Rico, and we had discovered from the ship’s papers that it was from the Port of San Juan in that island that she had recently sailed.
“The name of the craft was theVilla de Vera Cruz, and our plan was to re-christen her, alter her rig and general appearance, and sail boldly into the Port of San Juan, hoping to be taken for some vessel just arrived from Spain or elsewhere. Then, if unmolested, we should examine the harbour; and, if it were found to contain any vessel suitable for our purpose, the plan was that we were to wait for nightfall, and then board the other vessel by means of the boats, capture her, and sail out of the harbour again before daylight with both vessels. And when once well out of sight of land, and reasonably safe from pursuit, all the survivors of her crew, if any, were to be killed and flung overboard. All stores, cargo, and guns were to be transferred to the new capture, and our present craft sunk—as we had done with the galley.
“It had become a saying with us that ‘dead men tell no tales’; so it was agreed to kill every soul we captured, taking care that none escaped us. We should thus—so we believed—keep our movements secret for some considerable period at any rate. For—it is useless for me to attempt to disguise the fact—we had not been in possession of our prize twenty-four hours ere we had agreed to start piracy in earnest, preying on all nations, and selecting some nook where we could hide what treasure we captured.
“Well, we duly arrived in the roads of San Juan, and anchored well out of gunshot from the forts, seemingly without exciting any suspicion whatever. We carefully examined the roadstead, and there, sure enough, was just the craft for our purpose; but she was lying right under the guns of the fort. She was a pretty vessel: schooner-rigged, very low in the water, and—as we found out when we took her—of very deep draught; broad in the beam, and ‘flush-decked’ fore and aft, with no raised fore or after castles. We could see, by her open ports, that she carried twelve guns of a side—nine-pounders they were,—with a long gun forward of her foremast that threw a thirty-two pound shot. She was therefore quite heavily armed enough for our purpose, and there would be no need to transfer our old guns to her when she was captured; and we should thus be saved a great deal of labour. Her masts were very long and tapering, with a big rake aft, and from a distance the vessel looked overmasted; but when one got on board her one saw that her great width of beam gave her the stiffness necessary to carry such lofty masts with their corresponding spread of sail. In short, she was just what we wanted, and, indeed, we could not have had a ship better suited to our purpose even though we had built her ourselves. Needless to say, we determined to cut her out from under the guns of the fort, and capture her, at any risk, that very night. During the day we got up our arms, loaded our pistols, sharpened up our swords and cutlasses, and got all ready for the night attack. We were in a fever of impatience to try our luck, and could hardly bring ourselves to wait until dark, still less until midnight, which we decided was the earliest hour at which we could make an attempt. So great was our excitement and impatience that we strove to allay them by drinking raw spirits continually; and by night we were mad with drink, the only effect of which was to turn us into a gang of demons who would stop at nothing. It was perhaps due to the drink—though we did not know it—that we actually took the vessel after all; for we encountered a most stubborn resistance; and had there been any people in the fort, they would certainly have opened fire upon us, and we should have been killed to a man. Luckily, as it happened, for us, there was a carnival in progress in the town that night, and nearly every man in the place was attending it. Those who had not got leave deserted, and went all the same, even to the last sentry; so that when we made our attack there was not a solitary soldier in the fort.
“At length the hour came; we got our boats over noiselessly, and pulled away toward the schooner. It was dark as the inside of a wolf’s mouth, and there was but little phosphorescence in the water. We pulled with muffled oars, and were nearly alongside her, when someone on board must have caught a glimpse of the faint flash as our oars dipped, for we heard a voice giving the alarm on board in Spanish. Seemingly they did not want us to know that they were on the alert, and reckoned on giving us the surprise we intended for them; but we had caught the low words of warning, and knew that they were ready for us. We laid our boats alongside one another, and held a whispered council, as a result of which we very slowly and cautiously pulled round to the farther side of the vessel, and boarded her silently there, falling upon the Spaniards in the rear. This was the saving of us, for they had lined the bulwarks on the other side, and had we attempted to board on that side we should never have been successful.
“The fight was fierce and grim, and, strangely enough, silent; there was not a cry, save the groans and moans of the wounded and dying. We struggled and fought in silence, and in the dark it was difficult to tell friend from foe. At length, to make my long story a little shorter, we drove them below, and, cutting the vessel’s cable, made sail for the open sea. We had agreed to show a red light to our own vessel, as a signal for her to slip out also, if we were successful; so we looked round for a red lantern, and presently found one. The signal was made, and immediately answered by three flashes of a white light from our old ship, as decided upon before leaving her. Both craft were soon under way for the open sea, and kept each other in view by the light of the stars; and at daybreak we could only just see the land. We kept on, however, until mid-day, to make ourselves doubly safe, by which time we had run the land out of sight; when both craft were hove-to. Then the crew of the prize were brought up on deck; and as we were, after our recent rights, very short-handed, we gave them the choice of joining us or of walking the plank. They were, for the most part, a rascally lot of men, and did not need the persuasion of ‘the plank’ to join us; indeed they seemed glad to have the opportunity. By this means we replenished our crew, and our total number now exceeded by forty-nine that which we were before taking the galley. We had, therefore, a crew of two hundred and twenty-five men, which was a big crew for so small a ship. But then, as Leirya said, we had to provide against casualties. Seventeen men walked the plank, rather than join us, and after that we made the necessary transfer of stores and other material, and sank our old vessel. We were now ready and well equipped for our piratical undertaking, and we started at once on our nefarious career.
“I cannot recount to you all that took place, for many long years have passed since I first threw in my lot with that scoundrel, José Leirya; but we took countless ships, and accumulated a vast amount of treasure, the most part of which is buried in a certain spot. I know the bay where the hiding-place is; but exactly where the ‘cache’ itself is I know not. Of that, however, a little later on. To shorten my story—of which I expect you are now heartily tired—I will pass over my life and experiences during the years that I have been with the pirate, until about six months ago. But I must tell you first that, what with fights, disease, punishment by death, accident, and so on, our crew gradually changed until I and two others, with José Leirya himself, were the only survivors of the original galley-slaves. The other men hated me, and for some time had been putting about false reports of me, and other matters to my great harm, until at length Leirya said he would get rid of me. The men clamoured for my death, for I had often sent others of them to their death; but José refused to kill me, as I had been so long with him. He promised to maroon me, however, and the scoundrels had to be satisfied with that promise. They made many attempts, however, to murder me, but I escaped them all.
“We did not sight an island for some time, and now, every day, I brooded over the wrong José had done me in listening to the lies of others, and acceding to their demands, and I determined to have my revenge on him. He had always trusted me, and did so still, and I had a key that fitted the lock of his cabin. One day we sighted a ship; and, as it fell calm, the boats were ordered out to pull to her and capture her. Nearly all hands went, including Leirya himself, but I remained behind to help look after the schooner. While they were away, I went into the captain’s cabin, and, finding his keys in the pocket of a jacket of his that hung there, I opened his private drawer and took out all the papers that were there, putting back blank ones of similar appearance to those that I had stolen, relocked the drawer, and replaced the key. I then hid the papers in my own chest, which I was certain José would allow me to take. I will tell you why I stole those papers. It was because I thought I should find the key to his hidden treasure among them; and I was not mistaken. I found it, or what I believe to be it, but it was in cipher; and I have spent nearly all my time since I have been on the island in trying to translate it, but have not been able to do so. I know, however, whereabout the bay is in which the hiding-place is situated. It is at the east end of the island of Cuba, in latitude 20 degrees north, longitude 75 degrees west.
“I have those papers still; and before I die I will give them to you, Master Trevose. They may be useful to you; and if you can translate the cipher, why, there are millions there for you, unless, indeed, José Leirya removes them before you can get there. Well, sirs, José did not discover the loss by the time that we fell in with this sand-bank, and, according to his promise to the crew, I was marooned here; but he gave me a musket, with powder and ball, and enough provision to keep me for a year. The men who went in the boat to put me ashore were, however, my most deadly enemies; and before we reached the shore, and when they were far enough away from the vessel not to be seen, they dropped musket and all overboard, leaving me only a very little provision, saying that they did not wish me to die too soon. Then, after landing me, they returned, the ship disappeared, and I have seen no sail but yours since they left me here two months ago. That, gentlemen, is my story. To help you hunt down that bloody pirate, however, I will tell you that he intended sailing up through the bays of Honduras and Guatemala, and through the Yucatan channel into the Gulf of Mexico, to cruise there for merchantmen sailing to and from Vera Cruz and the other ports. And it is there that you will find him, sirs. Chase him; run him down; take him, at all costs, and hang him and his crew from his own yard-arm, and burn his ship; so shall you exterminate one of the most cruel, ferocious, bloodthirsty devils who ever sailed the sea, and avenge me, sirs. For I shall soon die; the hardship and exposure that I have suffered here have killed me! But now that I have told you my story, I can die comfortably, for I have only lived to impart my information to someone else, and so help them to hunt that man down. But see, the dawn is breaking!”
The other three had been so intensely interested in the outcast’s tale that the time had passed unnoticed, and the first streaks of dawn were indeed in the sky. Moreover, the wind had dropped, the rain had ceased, and the sea was going down. The unfortunate ex-pirate seemed exhausted by the long recital of his experiences, and looked very weak. Presently he laid himself down on the sand under his shelter, and fell fast asleep through sheer fatigue. The others went outside and took a survey of the beach, and were lucky enough to be able to collect quite a respectable quantity of wreckage, together with several casks of provisions. And they could see several more being gradually washed in, so they were in no danger of starvation, at all events for the present. They at once began to roll up the casks to the shelter, promising themselves a good meal before beginning the work of collecting all on which they could lay their hands. They resolved to collect all that they could, for it was impossible to be sure as to when the three vessels of Cavendish’s fleet would return; they knew that there were too many vicissitudes in a sailor’s life to permit of their absolutely depending upon anything, and they therefore resolved to make every possible provision for a lengthy stay where they were, should such prove to be necessary. That Cavendish would never abandon them they knew, but it was easy to think of a dozen circumstances or accidents to defer his search for them indefinitely.
Roger and the two seamen rolled up a few of the casks to the door of the little shelter, and, all feeling very hungry, they determined to broach one of them, as they judged from their appearance that they were provision-casks. They first glanced at the marooned man, to see if he had yet awakened from the slumber into which he had so suddenly fallen, but he was lying in his former position, breathing very heavily, and he had evidently not moved since they left him. Roger remarked to the two seamen: “I fear that poor fellow will not live much longer; he says he is exhausted by exposure and privation, and, looking at him, I can easily believe it. I hope he will live long enough to be taken on board the ships, and so be able to tell his story in his own words to the captain; but unless the squadron appear very soon it will be too late, for I am afraid a few days will see the last of him!” Then, as there seemed no fear of rousing him, they went into the shelter to look for themselves and see how much provision he had left. They found it without difficulty. There was only about three pounds of ships’-biscuit left, and two or three strips of dried meat. This was absolutely all the food that was left, and had it not been for the wreck, and the casks of provisions being washed ashore, their position would have been very serious indeed. Jake Irwin had been searching for some cooking utensil, or some article which could be used as such, and presently appeared with an iron three-legged pot, which was the only thing in the small establishment that would serve their purpose. Meanwhile Roger and Walter Bevan had secured the ex-pirate’s only axe, and were busily engaged in removing the head of one of the casks which they had rolled up opposite to the little shelter. The top presently came away, and they saw, disclosed before their longing and hungry eyes, not the provisions they so much needed, but a hard and rocky mass of caked gunpowder, made useless and solid by the action of the sea-water that had penetrated through the crevices of the cask.
“God help us!” exclaimed Roger. “If all these casks hold nothing but powder, we shall slowly starve to death. I hoped they would all be provision-casks; I never thought they would contain aught else!”
“Never despair, Master Trevose,” replied Bevan, “they may not be all the same. Let us try another cask. We may have better luck this time.”
Disheartened and anxious, they set to work, desperate with hunger, and beat in the head of the next cask with savage blows. And, oh joy! in this cask they at length found the much-needed food in the form of salt pork, with which the barrel was filled.
“Hurrah,” shouted Roger, “we are saved after all!”
They took out two large pieces. Jake Irwin filled the pot with water from the spring, and, having soon made a fire, they set the meat on to boil. The savoury odour of the cooking meat soon met their nostrils and encouraged them to fresh efforts on the other casks. Strangely enough, though the first cask opened was filled with spoilt gunpowder, all the rest of the barrels had good wholesome provisions in them. The second barrel opened was found to contain ships’-biscuit, the third and fourth salt pork; the fifth had beef in it, and in one or two more casks they found further food, sufficient in all to last them for some months without going on short rations. It was not long ere the meat was sufficiently cooked to satisfy them, and they went in to call Evans and acquaint him with the fact that he could now have a good wholesome meal. They aroused him with great difficulty, and he seemed to be weaker than ever. He revived somewhat under the stimulating influence of the hot food, and told them that if only he had had such food a little earlier it would have saved his life.
Their meal finished, they got up a few more casks which had meanwhile come ashore, and gathered more wreckage, piling all their material recovered from the sea in a place of safety well above high-water mark. Having at length collected everything in sight on the beach, the next thing they set themselves to do was to find a suitable spot and erect, with the wreckage that they had found, a hut large enough to contain the entire party with comfort. But first, as Roger very rightly observed, it was necessary and prudent to build a fire the smoke of which could be seen out at sea, and which might serve as a guide to Cavendish in his search for the sand-bank should he happen to be looking for it. Their plan was to feed the fire with damp wood and sea-weed during the day, to produce a thick smoke that could be seen at a long distance out at sea, and to put on dry wood at night to make a bright blaze which could also be seen a long way off. This was soon done, and a site was then selected for the projected hut. Among the palm-trees on the summit of the bank were three trees so placed as to form the points of a fairly spacious triangle. Roger selected these, intending to nail or otherwise secure planks to their trunks, making a three-sided enclosure; leaving space, of course, in one of the sides for a door. A roof they believed they could dispense with, as the trees were not very high, and the tufts of leaves at their summits were so thick, and grew so close together, that it seemed very doubtful whether even the furious rain of the tropics would be able to penetrate them. They found a number of nails in the planks and timbers which they had collected, and these served their purpose. Roger, Jake Irwin, and Walter Bevan worked right manfully at the job of erecting the new hut, and in a few hours it was finished. Evans, poor fellow, was far too weak to take a hand in any of the operations, and lay in his shelter almost unable to move. When the new hut was finished, the builders found the man too far gone to walk, so they brought some planks and put him on them, carrying him up in that way. He was laid gently down and made as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. A pannikin of water was left with him, and some cold provisions placed near him in case he should feel hungry. The others then went away to seek further wreckage and casks, but they found no more. Then they decided to make another shelter wherein to protect their provisions. It was thought advisable to construct this place near the new hut; so the old shelter—such as it was—was taken down and replaced close behind their new structure, and the casks, barrels, and other perishable matters were placed therein as being safer, as well as easier to get at at all times. They were now fairly settled down in their new domain; they had shelter, and plenty of food to last for some months, even on full rations. There was water in abundance to be had from the spring, and altogether their lot was far and away more satisfactory and endurable than that of the poor marooned pirate had been. Besides, there were now four of them, and they had the advantage and comfort of each other’s company, while Evans had been entirely alone with only his own miserable thoughts for companions until Roger and his two seamen made their welcome appearance on the sand-bank. It occurred to Roger that it would be a very good thing to have a flag and flag-staff, because their fuel would not last for ever, and with it would go their only means of signalling to passing ships; so several narrow pieces of wood were nailed together, and the two seamen, both of whom were wearing red shirts, sacrificed those garments in the interests of the community. The lad then split them both down one side, to increase the area of his improvised ensign, and tied the arms together to increase the length. This “flag” was then nailed to the makeshift flag-staff, and Roger and Jake Irwin swarmed up a palm-tree—one of the three composing the posts for the support of the walls of their hut, while Walter Bevan passed up the flag and staff to them from below. Then Roger, with his sword, which he had carried up naked between his teeth, cut away part of the foliage, and the staff was pushed up through the hole thus made, the lower portion being secured to the top of the trunk of the palm-tree. Both men then scrambled down to the ground again and looked up at their handiwork. There it fluttered, far above the tufted crowns of the palm-grove, a large red flag at the top of its lengthy staff, some eighty feet above the ground, and visible, as they judged, at a distance of at least ten miles out at sea on a clear day. This, as Roger remarked, gave them an extra chance of being recovered by the fleet, as the flag would be seen at almost as great a distance as the smoke from the fire, while the two together ensured their being sighted by any vessel that approached the island within ten miles.
Satisfied at last with their work, and seeing that there was nothing further for them to do at the moment, Roger determined to make a tour of their little domain; so, leaving Jake Irwin to attend to the sick man Evans, Roger and Walter Bevan set off. Starting from a point on the beach opposite the hut, they began their walk, going towards the eastern end of the sand-bank. They found that the shore was everywhere sand until they had gone some half a mile and nearly reached the end of the island, when they came upon a ledge of rocks over which they had to clamber, and which stretched out for quite a long distance into the sea. The two ventured out some few hundred yards along the ridge to seaward, and found that it had deep water on each side of it, the rock seeming to run perpendicularly down to the sandy bottom. The place struck them as being an excellent situation for fishing from if only they possessed hooks and lines, for, peering down into the water—which was clear as crystal,—they saw all manner of many-hued and beautiful fish disporting themselves below. They gazed admiringly and somewhat longingly at them for a few minutes, determining to return later and attempt to catch some, and then resumed their explorations. They had not gone very far, and were walking side by side, when Roger stumbled over an inequality in the surface of the sand. He passed on, taking no notice of the circumstance, thinking it to be only a stone or piece of rock covered up by the sand; but Bevan, who had noticed the occurrence, stepped back, and, dropping on his knees, began to clear away the sand with his fingers, presently revealing to Roger’s wondering eyes a number of eggs.
“Whatever are those?” exclaimed the lad, hardly able to believe his senses. “I suppose they are eggs; they look like eggs; but I have never before heard of eggs being buried in sand.”
“These, Master Trevose,” responded the man, smiling at Roger’s astonishment, “are turtles’ eggs, and they are excellent eating, I can assure you. They will be a grand change of food for us, as will the fish when we can catch them. Moreover, having laid these eggs here, the turtle may very possibly come back to this spot to lay more. We will look out for her, and if she returns we must turn her over on her back and then go back and fetch Jake, who will help us to carry her to the hut. We need not worry about fresh meat now, Master Trevose. If we can catch turtle we shall have meat enough to last us for some time.”
“I am rejoiced to hear you say so,” returned Roger. “But why turn the turtle on her back, should she make her appearance?”
“Well, sir,” replied the man, “the way of it is this. By turnin’ a turtle over on its back you can always make certain that, if you’re obliged to go away and leave it, you’ll find it in the same place when you come back; because if a turtle’s laid on its back it can’t turn over again by itself, and so is perfectly helpless and unable to move.”
There were fourteen eggs in the “nest” in the sand; so Roger took off his coat, and, tying the arms together, made a sort of bag of it, into which he carefully put a few of the eggs. Then, carrying his parcel very carefully, they resumed their journey. They found no more eggs at that time, and discovered nothing further of importance, and shortly afterwards arrived back at the hut, having completed their walk round the islet.
Irwin reported that the man Evans had called for water, and had seemed in great pain, but had revived a little after drinking, and was now again asleep.
The two explorers deposited their burden of eggs, and told Jake of their hopes regarding the turtle, arranging to go down again later and watch for the creature, knowing how important it was to their health to secure as varied a diet as possible. But before setting out again they put a few of the eggs into the hot ashes of the fire and baked them in their shells. When they thought they would be sufficiently cooked, they took them out of the ashes, and roused Evans up with the news that another meal was ready for him.