Chapter Nineteen.A Warning Shock.“Wa-all, I’m jiggered!” ejaculated Hiram, having recourse to his usual favourite expression when startled or surprised at anything, as the skipper, after evading Jan Steenbock’s pursuit, darted out of the cave and appeared on the scene, destroying the harmony of our happy meeting with Sam. “Keep yer haar on, cap, an’ don’t make a muss about nuthin’!”Captain Snaggs, in response to this, made a gesture as if he were going to strike him.“Ye durned rep-tile!” he yelled out. “I’ll soon knock the sass out o’ ye; I will so, by thunder!”“No, ye don’t, cap; no, ye don’t,” said Hiram good-humouredly, putting up his fists to guard himself, but not doing so offensively. “I guess two ken play at thet game, I reckon, an’ ye’d best let me bide; fur, I’m a quiet coon when ye stroke me down the right way, but a reg’lar screamer when I’m riled, an’ mighty risky to handle, sirree, ez ye ken bet yer bottom dollar!”“Jee-rusalem—this air rank mutiny!” exclaimed the skipper, starting back. “Would ye hit me, yer own cap’en?”“No, cap; I don’t mean fur to go ez fur ez thet,”—replied the other, lowering his fists, but keeping his eye steadily on Captain Snaggs, the two looking at each other straight up and down—“not if yer doesn’t lay hands on me; but, if yer dew, why, I reckon I’ll hev to take my own part, fur I ain’t a-goin’ to be knocked about by no man, cap’en or no cap’en, ez we’re now ashore an’ this air a free country!”“Snakes an’ alligators, this air a rum state o’ things!” cried the skipper, sobering down a bit at this reply, as well as awed by Hiram’s steadfast manner. “But, I don’t kinder wish to be at loggerheads with ye, my man, fur ye hev ben a good seaman right through the vy’ge, an I ken pass over yer sass, ez I don’t think ye means any disrespect.”“Nary a cent, cap,” agreed Hiram to this; “nary a cent o’ thet.”“But ez fur thet durned nigger thaar,” continued the skipper, foaming up with passion again on seeing Sam and Tom grinning together at his backing down so mildly before Hiram’s resolute attitude, neither of them, nor any of us indeed, recognising that he was in a state of delirium, “I’ll hev him an’ thet scoundrel of a carpenter in irons, an’ tried fur conspi-racy, I guess, when we git back to some civilised port.”“Better wait till ye fetch thaar, boss,” said Hiram drily. “I guess we air hard an’ fast aground jest now; an’ it ain’t no good a-talkin’ till ye ken do ez ye sez; threat’nin’s air all bunkum!”“I’ll soon show ye the rights o’ thet,” shouted Captain Snaggs, making a rush past Hiram to reach Sam, who drew away behind Tom, just beyond his grasp. “Only let me catch holt on thet durned nigger, an’ I’ll skin him alive. I’ll ghost him, I will!”Hiram, however, protected the darkey with his outstretched arm, thus barring the skipper’s advance; while Tom Bullover also stood up in front, further shielding Sam, who now spoke up for himself from his safe position in the rear, whither I too retreated out of harm’s way.“Golly! Massa Cap’en,” said Sam, with a native dignity and eloquence which I had not previously believed him to possess, “what fur am yer wish ter injure a pore black man like me, dat nebbah done yer no harm? But fur der impersition ob der good God abobe us all, yer’d a-murd’red me, as yer taut yer hab dat time dat yer shoots me, an’ I tumbles inter de sea?”“Harm, cuss ye?” retorted Captain Snaggs. “Didn’t ye try to pizen me afore I went fur ye? It wer arter thet I drew a bead on ye with my six-shooter!”“No, Mass’ Snaggs,” answered the negro solemnly; “I’se swan I nebbah done dat ting! I’se nebbah pizen yer, nor no man. I’se only put one lilly bit jalap in de grub, fo’ joke, ’cause yer turn me out ob de galley fo’ nuffin’. I’se only done it fo’ joke, I swan!”“A durned fine joke thet, I reckon,” sneered the skipper, snorting and fuming with rage at the recollection. “Why, me an’ Flinders hed the mullygrabs fur a week arterwards; an’ I guess I don’t feel all right yet! I ain’t half paid ye fur it, by thunder! But, thet ain’t the wust by a durned sight; fur, by yer dodrotted tomfoolery, an’ carryin’ on with thet scoundrel yer accomplice thaar—thet British hound, Bullover, I mean—ye hev so fuddled every one aboard thet ye hev caused the loss of the shep an’ cargy on this air outlandish island. I’ll make ye answer fur it, though—I will by the jumpin’ Jeehosophet!”“Ye air wrong thaar, cap,” put in Hiram here; “ye air wrong thaar!”“Wrong! Who sez I’m wrong?”“I dew,” replied the other, in his sturdy fashion, in no ways abashed by the question—“I sez ye air wrong. It warn’t Sam ez lost the ship, or ’cashion’d the wrack in airy a way, nor yet yerself, cap, neither. It wer summat else.”“Thunder!” exclaimed the skipper, puzzled by this. “What dew ye make it out fur to be?”“Rum, an’ not ‘thunder,’ mister,” at once responded Hiram, equally laconically. “I guess if ye hedn’t took to raisin’ yer elber thet powerful ez to see snakes, an’ hev the jim-jams, we’d all be now, slick ez clams, safe in port at ’Frisco!”This home truth silenced the captain for the moment, but the next instant he startled us all with an utterly inconsequent question, having no reference to what he had before been speaking of.“Where hev ye stowed it?”Hiram stared at him.“I don’t mean ye,” said the skipper, dropping his eyes as if he could not stand being gazed at; and I could see his face twitching about in a queer manner, and his hands trembling, as he turned and twisted the fingers together. “I mean the nigger an’ thet other skunk thaar—the white man thet’s got a blacker heart inside his carkiss than the nigger hez. Whaar hev they stowed it?”“Stowed what, cap?” inquired Hiram, humouring him, as he now noticed, for the first time, in what an excited state he was. “I don’t kinder underconstubble ’zactly what yer means.”“The chest o’ gold,” snorted out the skipper. “Ye know durned well what I means!”“Chest o’ goold?” repeated Hiram, astonished. “I hevn’t seed no chests o’ goold about hyar. No such luck!”“Ye lie!” roared the captain, springing on him like a tiger, and throwing him down by his sudden attack, he clutched poor Hiram’s throat so tightly as almost to strangle him. “I saw the nigger makin’ off with it, an’ thet scoundrel the carpenter; fur the buccaneers told me jest now. Lord, thaar’s the skull rollin’ after me, with its wild eyes flashin’ fire out of the sockets, an’ its grinnin’ teeth—oh, save me! Save me!”With that, he took to crying and sobbing like mad; and it was only then we realised the fact that the skipper was suffering from another of his fits of delirium, though it was a far worse one than any we had seen him labouring under during the voyage.Tom Bullover and Sam had the greatest difficulty in unclenching his hands from Hiram’s neck and then restraining him from doing further violence, our unfortunate shipmate being quite black in the face and speechless for some minutes after our releasing him.As for Captain Snaggs, he afterwards went on like a raging madman; and it was as much as Tom and Sam could do, with my help, to tie his hands and legs so as to keep him quiet, for he struggled furiously all the while with the strength of ten men!In the middle of this, we heard a strange rumbling noise under our feet, the ground beginning to oscillate violently, as if we were on board ship in a heavy sea; while, at the same time, a lot of earth and pieces of rock were thrown down on us from the heights above the little plateau where the cave was situated. The air, also, grew thick and heavy and dark, similarly to what is generally noticed when a severe thunderstorm is impending.“Oh, Tom!” I cried in alarm, “what has happened?”“It’s an earthquake, I think,” he replied, looking frightened too. “We’d better get under shelter as quickly as we can, for these stones are tumbling down too plentifully for pleasure!”“Where can we go?” said I—“the ship’s too far off. Oh dear, something has just hit me on the head, and it hurts!”“Come in here to the cave; we’ll be safe inside, if the bottom can stand all this shaking. At all events, it’ll be better than being out in the open, to stand the chance of having one’s head smashed by a boulder from aloft!”So saying, Tom disappeared within the mouth of the cavern, dragging after him the prostrate form of the skipper, who appeared to have fallen asleep, overcome by the violent paroxysms of his fit, for he was snoring stertorously.Sam and I quickly followed Tom, and the rear was brought up by Hiram—now pretty well recovered from the mauling he had received at the hands of our unconscious skipper, the shock of the earthquake having roused up our shipmate effectually, while the continual dropping of the falling earth and stones, which now began to rain down like hail, hastened his retreat.“I guess this air more comf’able,” said he, as soon as he was well within our place of shelter, now so dark and gloomy that we could barely see each other, and Sam’s colour was quite indistinguishable. “Talk o’ rainin’ cats an’ dogs! Why, the airth seems topsides down, an’ brickbats an’ pavin’ stones air a reg’ler caution to it!”Hardly, however, had he got out these words than there came a tremendous crash of thunder, a vivid sheet of forked lightning simultaneously illuminating the whole interior of the cavern; and, to our great surprise, we perceived by the bright electric glare the figure of another man besides our own party—the stranger standing at the upper end of the cave, near the block of stone in the centre, where Sam had been seated when I had seen him playing the banjo, and Tom gave him such a fright by pretending to be a ghost.Sam, now, like the rest of us, saw this figure advancing in our direction, and believed he was going to be treated to another visitation from the apparition which had terrified him previously, and which he was still only half convinced was but the creation of Tom’s erratic fancy.“O Lor’, Cholly!” he exclaimed, in great fright, clutching hold of my hand, as I stood near him at the entrance to the cave. “Dere’s anudder duppy come, fo’ suah! My golly! What am dat?”But, before I could say anything, much to our great relief—for I felt almost as much terrified as he—the voice of Jan Steenbock sounded from out from the gloomy interior in answer to his question.“It vas mees, mein frents—it vas mees!”“Goodness gracious, Mister Steenbock!” sang out Tom Bullover, looking towards him, as the hazy figure advanced nearer and became more distinct, although we could not yet actually see the second-mate’s face. “How did you get here?”“I vas hoont aftaire ze cap’en,” replied Jan, coming up close to us now. “He vas get troonk, and go mat again in ze valleys beyont ze sheep, and I vas run aftaire hims, as he vas run avays, and den he vas go out of zight in one big hole at ze top of ze hill. I vas vollow aftaire hims, but den I loose hims, and ze erdquake vas come and ze toonder and lightning, and I vas zee yous and here I vas!”“Oh, we’ve got the skipper all right,” said Tom. “He nearly killed Hiram jest now in his frenzy; but we’ve tied him up with a lashing round his arms and legs, so that he can’t get away and come to no harm till he’s all serene again. I’m a-sitting on him now to keep him down; as, though he’s sleepin’, he tries to start up on us every minute. By Jingo! there he goes again!”“He vas bat mans,” observed Jan Steenbock, helping to hold down the struggling skipper, whose fits of delirium still came back every now and again. “He vas vool of mischiefs and ze rhoom! Joost now, he vas dink dat he vas talk to ze boocaneer cap’en, and dat he vas show him dat dreazure dat vas accurst, and he vas dink he vinds it, and dat I vas shteal hims avay.”“I’m jiggered!” ejaculated Hiram, in surprise. “Why, he comed up hyar an’ goes fur me to throttle me, sayin’ ez how I hed took the durned treesor, tew. I guess I only wish we could sot eyes on it!”“Bettaire not, mine vrents, bettaire not zee it no mores,” said Jan, solemnly shaking his head in the dim light. “It vas accurst, as I vas tell yous, by ze bloot of ze schlabe dat vas kilt by ze Sbaniards. It vas only bringt bat look to ze beeples dat vas touch hims. Bettaire not, mein frent, nevaire!”“I ain’t got no skear ’bout thet,” replied Hiram, with a defiant laugh. “Guess, we air all on us pretty wa-al season’d to them ghostesses by this time, both aboard ship an’ ashore, an’ I don’t care a cuss fur the hull bilin’ on them, I reckon!”“Shtop!—listen!”—whispered Jan Steenbock, in his deep, impressive voice, as another vivid flash of lightning lit up the cave for a brief instant, making it all the darker afterwards. This was followed by a second crashing peal of thunder, as if the very heavens were coming down and were rattling about our ears; while the ground heaved up beneath our feet violently, with its former jerky motion.—“Ze sbirrits of eefel vas valk abroat in ze shtorm.”Even as he spoke, his solemn tones sending a thrill through my heart, there came a still more violent shock of earthquake, which was succeeded by a tremendous grinding, thumping noise from the back of the cave; and then, all of a sudden, a large black body bounded past us through the entrance close to where we stood. The rush of air knocked us all down flat on our backs, as this object, whatever it was, made its way out, and, finally, we could hear it, a second later, plunged into the sea below at the foot of the declivity.“Bress de Lor’!” ejaculated Sam, in greater terror than ever. “Dere’s de duppy, fo’ suah! Hole on ter me, Cholly! Hole on! I’se mighty ’fraid! Hole on ter me, for de Lor’s sake, sonny!”
“Wa-all, I’m jiggered!” ejaculated Hiram, having recourse to his usual favourite expression when startled or surprised at anything, as the skipper, after evading Jan Steenbock’s pursuit, darted out of the cave and appeared on the scene, destroying the harmony of our happy meeting with Sam. “Keep yer haar on, cap, an’ don’t make a muss about nuthin’!”
Captain Snaggs, in response to this, made a gesture as if he were going to strike him.
“Ye durned rep-tile!” he yelled out. “I’ll soon knock the sass out o’ ye; I will so, by thunder!”
“No, ye don’t, cap; no, ye don’t,” said Hiram good-humouredly, putting up his fists to guard himself, but not doing so offensively. “I guess two ken play at thet game, I reckon, an’ ye’d best let me bide; fur, I’m a quiet coon when ye stroke me down the right way, but a reg’lar screamer when I’m riled, an’ mighty risky to handle, sirree, ez ye ken bet yer bottom dollar!”
“Jee-rusalem—this air rank mutiny!” exclaimed the skipper, starting back. “Would ye hit me, yer own cap’en?”
“No, cap; I don’t mean fur to go ez fur ez thet,”—replied the other, lowering his fists, but keeping his eye steadily on Captain Snaggs, the two looking at each other straight up and down—“not if yer doesn’t lay hands on me; but, if yer dew, why, I reckon I’ll hev to take my own part, fur I ain’t a-goin’ to be knocked about by no man, cap’en or no cap’en, ez we’re now ashore an’ this air a free country!”
“Snakes an’ alligators, this air a rum state o’ things!” cried the skipper, sobering down a bit at this reply, as well as awed by Hiram’s steadfast manner. “But, I don’t kinder wish to be at loggerheads with ye, my man, fur ye hev ben a good seaman right through the vy’ge, an I ken pass over yer sass, ez I don’t think ye means any disrespect.”
“Nary a cent, cap,” agreed Hiram to this; “nary a cent o’ thet.”
“But ez fur thet durned nigger thaar,” continued the skipper, foaming up with passion again on seeing Sam and Tom grinning together at his backing down so mildly before Hiram’s resolute attitude, neither of them, nor any of us indeed, recognising that he was in a state of delirium, “I’ll hev him an’ thet scoundrel of a carpenter in irons, an’ tried fur conspi-racy, I guess, when we git back to some civilised port.”
“Better wait till ye fetch thaar, boss,” said Hiram drily. “I guess we air hard an’ fast aground jest now; an’ it ain’t no good a-talkin’ till ye ken do ez ye sez; threat’nin’s air all bunkum!”
“I’ll soon show ye the rights o’ thet,” shouted Captain Snaggs, making a rush past Hiram to reach Sam, who drew away behind Tom, just beyond his grasp. “Only let me catch holt on thet durned nigger, an’ I’ll skin him alive. I’ll ghost him, I will!”
Hiram, however, protected the darkey with his outstretched arm, thus barring the skipper’s advance; while Tom Bullover also stood up in front, further shielding Sam, who now spoke up for himself from his safe position in the rear, whither I too retreated out of harm’s way.
“Golly! Massa Cap’en,” said Sam, with a native dignity and eloquence which I had not previously believed him to possess, “what fur am yer wish ter injure a pore black man like me, dat nebbah done yer no harm? But fur der impersition ob der good God abobe us all, yer’d a-murd’red me, as yer taut yer hab dat time dat yer shoots me, an’ I tumbles inter de sea?”
“Harm, cuss ye?” retorted Captain Snaggs. “Didn’t ye try to pizen me afore I went fur ye? It wer arter thet I drew a bead on ye with my six-shooter!”
“No, Mass’ Snaggs,” answered the negro solemnly; “I’se swan I nebbah done dat ting! I’se nebbah pizen yer, nor no man. I’se only put one lilly bit jalap in de grub, fo’ joke, ’cause yer turn me out ob de galley fo’ nuffin’. I’se only done it fo’ joke, I swan!”
“A durned fine joke thet, I reckon,” sneered the skipper, snorting and fuming with rage at the recollection. “Why, me an’ Flinders hed the mullygrabs fur a week arterwards; an’ I guess I don’t feel all right yet! I ain’t half paid ye fur it, by thunder! But, thet ain’t the wust by a durned sight; fur, by yer dodrotted tomfoolery, an’ carryin’ on with thet scoundrel yer accomplice thaar—thet British hound, Bullover, I mean—ye hev so fuddled every one aboard thet ye hev caused the loss of the shep an’ cargy on this air outlandish island. I’ll make ye answer fur it, though—I will by the jumpin’ Jeehosophet!”
“Ye air wrong thaar, cap,” put in Hiram here; “ye air wrong thaar!”
“Wrong! Who sez I’m wrong?”
“I dew,” replied the other, in his sturdy fashion, in no ways abashed by the question—“I sez ye air wrong. It warn’t Sam ez lost the ship, or ’cashion’d the wrack in airy a way, nor yet yerself, cap, neither. It wer summat else.”
“Thunder!” exclaimed the skipper, puzzled by this. “What dew ye make it out fur to be?”
“Rum, an’ not ‘thunder,’ mister,” at once responded Hiram, equally laconically. “I guess if ye hedn’t took to raisin’ yer elber thet powerful ez to see snakes, an’ hev the jim-jams, we’d all be now, slick ez clams, safe in port at ’Frisco!”
This home truth silenced the captain for the moment, but the next instant he startled us all with an utterly inconsequent question, having no reference to what he had before been speaking of.
“Where hev ye stowed it?”
Hiram stared at him.
“I don’t mean ye,” said the skipper, dropping his eyes as if he could not stand being gazed at; and I could see his face twitching about in a queer manner, and his hands trembling, as he turned and twisted the fingers together. “I mean the nigger an’ thet other skunk thaar—the white man thet’s got a blacker heart inside his carkiss than the nigger hez. Whaar hev they stowed it?”
“Stowed what, cap?” inquired Hiram, humouring him, as he now noticed, for the first time, in what an excited state he was. “I don’t kinder underconstubble ’zactly what yer means.”
“The chest o’ gold,” snorted out the skipper. “Ye know durned well what I means!”
“Chest o’ goold?” repeated Hiram, astonished. “I hevn’t seed no chests o’ goold about hyar. No such luck!”
“Ye lie!” roared the captain, springing on him like a tiger, and throwing him down by his sudden attack, he clutched poor Hiram’s throat so tightly as almost to strangle him. “I saw the nigger makin’ off with it, an’ thet scoundrel the carpenter; fur the buccaneers told me jest now. Lord, thaar’s the skull rollin’ after me, with its wild eyes flashin’ fire out of the sockets, an’ its grinnin’ teeth—oh, save me! Save me!”
With that, he took to crying and sobbing like mad; and it was only then we realised the fact that the skipper was suffering from another of his fits of delirium, though it was a far worse one than any we had seen him labouring under during the voyage.
Tom Bullover and Sam had the greatest difficulty in unclenching his hands from Hiram’s neck and then restraining him from doing further violence, our unfortunate shipmate being quite black in the face and speechless for some minutes after our releasing him.
As for Captain Snaggs, he afterwards went on like a raging madman; and it was as much as Tom and Sam could do, with my help, to tie his hands and legs so as to keep him quiet, for he struggled furiously all the while with the strength of ten men!
In the middle of this, we heard a strange rumbling noise under our feet, the ground beginning to oscillate violently, as if we were on board ship in a heavy sea; while, at the same time, a lot of earth and pieces of rock were thrown down on us from the heights above the little plateau where the cave was situated. The air, also, grew thick and heavy and dark, similarly to what is generally noticed when a severe thunderstorm is impending.
“Oh, Tom!” I cried in alarm, “what has happened?”
“It’s an earthquake, I think,” he replied, looking frightened too. “We’d better get under shelter as quickly as we can, for these stones are tumbling down too plentifully for pleasure!”
“Where can we go?” said I—“the ship’s too far off. Oh dear, something has just hit me on the head, and it hurts!”
“Come in here to the cave; we’ll be safe inside, if the bottom can stand all this shaking. At all events, it’ll be better than being out in the open, to stand the chance of having one’s head smashed by a boulder from aloft!”
So saying, Tom disappeared within the mouth of the cavern, dragging after him the prostrate form of the skipper, who appeared to have fallen asleep, overcome by the violent paroxysms of his fit, for he was snoring stertorously.
Sam and I quickly followed Tom, and the rear was brought up by Hiram—now pretty well recovered from the mauling he had received at the hands of our unconscious skipper, the shock of the earthquake having roused up our shipmate effectually, while the continual dropping of the falling earth and stones, which now began to rain down like hail, hastened his retreat.
“I guess this air more comf’able,” said he, as soon as he was well within our place of shelter, now so dark and gloomy that we could barely see each other, and Sam’s colour was quite indistinguishable. “Talk o’ rainin’ cats an’ dogs! Why, the airth seems topsides down, an’ brickbats an’ pavin’ stones air a reg’ler caution to it!”
Hardly, however, had he got out these words than there came a tremendous crash of thunder, a vivid sheet of forked lightning simultaneously illuminating the whole interior of the cavern; and, to our great surprise, we perceived by the bright electric glare the figure of another man besides our own party—the stranger standing at the upper end of the cave, near the block of stone in the centre, where Sam had been seated when I had seen him playing the banjo, and Tom gave him such a fright by pretending to be a ghost.
Sam, now, like the rest of us, saw this figure advancing in our direction, and believed he was going to be treated to another visitation from the apparition which had terrified him previously, and which he was still only half convinced was but the creation of Tom’s erratic fancy.
“O Lor’, Cholly!” he exclaimed, in great fright, clutching hold of my hand, as I stood near him at the entrance to the cave. “Dere’s anudder duppy come, fo’ suah! My golly! What am dat?”
But, before I could say anything, much to our great relief—for I felt almost as much terrified as he—the voice of Jan Steenbock sounded from out from the gloomy interior in answer to his question.
“It vas mees, mein frents—it vas mees!”
“Goodness gracious, Mister Steenbock!” sang out Tom Bullover, looking towards him, as the hazy figure advanced nearer and became more distinct, although we could not yet actually see the second-mate’s face. “How did you get here?”
“I vas hoont aftaire ze cap’en,” replied Jan, coming up close to us now. “He vas get troonk, and go mat again in ze valleys beyont ze sheep, and I vas run aftaire hims, as he vas run avays, and den he vas go out of zight in one big hole at ze top of ze hill. I vas vollow aftaire hims, but den I loose hims, and ze erdquake vas come and ze toonder and lightning, and I vas zee yous and here I vas!”
“Oh, we’ve got the skipper all right,” said Tom. “He nearly killed Hiram jest now in his frenzy; but we’ve tied him up with a lashing round his arms and legs, so that he can’t get away and come to no harm till he’s all serene again. I’m a-sitting on him now to keep him down; as, though he’s sleepin’, he tries to start up on us every minute. By Jingo! there he goes again!”
“He vas bat mans,” observed Jan Steenbock, helping to hold down the struggling skipper, whose fits of delirium still came back every now and again. “He vas vool of mischiefs and ze rhoom! Joost now, he vas dink dat he vas talk to ze boocaneer cap’en, and dat he vas show him dat dreazure dat vas accurst, and he vas dink he vinds it, and dat I vas shteal hims avay.”
“I’m jiggered!” ejaculated Hiram, in surprise. “Why, he comed up hyar an’ goes fur me to throttle me, sayin’ ez how I hed took the durned treesor, tew. I guess I only wish we could sot eyes on it!”
“Bettaire not, mine vrents, bettaire not zee it no mores,” said Jan, solemnly shaking his head in the dim light. “It vas accurst, as I vas tell yous, by ze bloot of ze schlabe dat vas kilt by ze Sbaniards. It vas only bringt bat look to ze beeples dat vas touch hims. Bettaire not, mein frent, nevaire!”
“I ain’t got no skear ’bout thet,” replied Hiram, with a defiant laugh. “Guess, we air all on us pretty wa-al season’d to them ghostesses by this time, both aboard ship an’ ashore, an’ I don’t care a cuss fur the hull bilin’ on them, I reckon!”
“Shtop!—listen!”—whispered Jan Steenbock, in his deep, impressive voice, as another vivid flash of lightning lit up the cave for a brief instant, making it all the darker afterwards. This was followed by a second crashing peal of thunder, as if the very heavens were coming down and were rattling about our ears; while the ground heaved up beneath our feet violently, with its former jerky motion.—“Ze sbirrits of eefel vas valk abroat in ze shtorm.”
Even as he spoke, his solemn tones sending a thrill through my heart, there came a still more violent shock of earthquake, which was succeeded by a tremendous grinding, thumping noise from the back of the cave; and then, all of a sudden, a large black body bounded past us through the entrance close to where we stood. The rush of air knocked us all down flat on our backs, as this object, whatever it was, made its way out, and, finally, we could hear it, a second later, plunged into the sea below at the foot of the declivity.
“Bress de Lor’!” ejaculated Sam, in greater terror than ever. “Dere’s de duppy, fo’ suah! Hole on ter me, Cholly! Hole on! I’se mighty ’fraid! Hole on ter me, for de Lor’s sake, sonny!”
Chapter Twenty.The Judgment of Fate.We were all speechless, and could see nothing as we scrambled to our feet in the darkness, for the cave was now filled with a thick dust, that nearly suffocated us as well as blinded us—filling our eyes, and mouths, and nostrils.Presently, the dust settled down; and, then, we found that the cavern was no longer dark, for the crash which had so startled us at first was occasioned by a portion of the roof breaking away, which let in the daylight from above, right immediately over the big rock in the centre that Tom had called “the pulpit.”The rock, however, had disappeared, and this was, doubtless, the mysterious body that had rushed by us through the mouth of the cave, so frightening Sam.But something more surprising still had happened.The earthquake, in rending the rock, had upheaved all the earth around it, and there, beneath, in a large cavity, was a collection of old oaken chests, bound round, apparently, with heavy clamps of iron, similar to those used by our forefathers a couple of centuries ago for the storage of their goods and chattels—boxes that could defy alike the ravages of age and the ordinary wear and tear of time, the carpenters and builders of bygone days making things to last, and not merely to sell, as in modern years!“Hooray!” cried Hiram, springing towards one of the chests, which had been crushed open by a piece of detached rock from the roof of the cave, thus disclosing to view a lot of glittering ingots of gold, with a crucifix and some little images of the same precious metal, like the Madonna figure we had first discovered. “Hyar’s the boocaneer treesor, I guess, at last!”“I vas mooch sorry,” said Jan Steenbock, shaking his head solemnly, as we gathered round the hole and eagerly inspected its contents, noticing that there were seven or eight of the large chests within the cavity, besides the broken one and a number of smaller ones, along with pieces of armour and a collection of old guns and pistols, all heaped up together. “I vas mooch sorry. It vas bringt us bat look, like it did to ze schgooners, and Cap’en Shackzon, and all ze crew of zo sheep I vas zail in befores!”“Why, old hoss,” asked Hiram, all excitement, “I guess we air all friends hyar, an’ ’ll go share an’ share alike; so thaar’s no fear on a muss happenin’ atween us, like thaar wer with ye an’ them durned cut-throat Spaniards. Why shu’d it bring us bad luck, hey?”“I vas avraid of ze curse,” replied the other. “It vas hoonted mit bloot, and vas bringt harm to every ones! I vill not touch it meinselfs—no, nevaire!”“Guess I will, though,” retorted Hiram. “I ain’t afeard o’ no nigger ez was buried two hundred year ago; no, nor on his ghostess neither. What say ye, Sam, consarnin’ this brother darkey o’ yourn?”“Golly, Massa Hiram!” said Sam, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of the gold. “I’se tink I’se hab claim to de lot, if it am belong to de nigger family. Ho-ho-ho!”With that we all laughed; whereupon the skipper, whom we had forgotten for the moment, made a movement where he still lay on the floor of the cave by the entrance, opening his eyes and trying to get up, which, of course, he was unable to do, from our having tied his legs together.“Hillo!” he called out. “Whaar am I?”His voice now seemed quite rational, and on Tom going up to him, he found that the delirium had left him, and that he was quite sober and in his senses again, so he unloosed him, helping him on to his feet.Strange to say, Captain Snaggs did not utter a word about finding himself tied, nor did he seem in any way surprised at being there amongst us. He was not angry either a bit now!He simply walked up to where we stood and, looking down at the hole with the chests piled up in it, as if following out a concentrated train of thought which had been simmering in his brain before his fit, exclaimed—“Thaar it air, jest ez I told ye, an’ ez the buccaneer cap’n told me. Thaar it air all right, I reckon; an’ now we must see about gettin’ it down to the shep.”This staggered us somewhat; but Tom Bullover thought it best to humour him.“How would you like it took down to the shore, cap’en?” he asked, deferentially. “Shall I go and fetch some of the hands, sir?”“Yes, I guess thet’ll be the best plan,” replied Captain Snaggs, as easy as you please, and as if only talking about some ordinary thing, and he were giving his usual orders. “Wait a minnit, though. I guess I’ll come with ye ez soon as I’ve toted up the hull lot, fur thaar ain’t no fear of any coon walkin’ off with the plunder while we’re away, an’ I want to see how the shep’s gettin’ on. I reckon she ought to be pretty near afloat by now.”There seemed a method in his madness, even if he were yet mad, for he carefully jotted down the number of chests in his pocket-book; and then, turning away as composedly as possible, he made his way down to the beach by our old path, just as if he had been in the habit of going that way every day of his life and it was quite familiar to him.“Come on, men!” cried he. “Follow me!”So, down we all tramped after him in single file to the shore, where we found a stranger thing had happened since our long absence, which, long as it seemed from the series of occurrences that had happened, the one succeeding the other in rapid succession, was not long in reality.However, it appeared months since we had left the ship; for, in the short space of time, comparatively speaking, that we had been away, all around her had been altered, and she more than anything.Instead of her being high and dry ashore, with her bows up in the air between the two hillocks where they had been wedged, there she was now afloat, placidly riding on the smooth waters of the harbour by her anchors, which had been laid out, it may be remembered, the morning after she stranded.This was a far more providential circumstance than our finding the treasure; for even Mr Steenbock, sanguine as he had been at first when he suggested digging the dock under her, had begun to have fears of our eventually getting her off again into her native element—the operation taking longer than he had expected, for the water at the last had penetrated through the coffer-dam, thus preventing the men from digging out the after part of the trench under the keel piece, between the main and mizzen-chains.Now, through the effects of the earthquake, we were fortunately saved all farther trouble on this score.The skipper did not appear the least surprised at what had happened, displaying the same nonchalance as he did when gazing down into the cavity where the buccaneers’ gold was stowed—as if he had dreamt it all beforehand and everything was turning out exactly according to the sequence of his dream!As we got nearer, we saw that a number of the men were grouped about the shore, collecting a lot of stray gear, which they were taking off to the ship in the jolly-boat; so, calling to these, Captain Snaggs asked where Mr Flinders was.“He’s gone aboard bad,” said one of the hands, with a snigger, whereat they all laughed. “He don’t feel all right this arternoon, sir, an’ he went into his cabin afore the ship floated.”“I guess, then, we’d better go aboard, too,” replied the skipper, quite quiet like. “It’s gettin’ late now, an’ we’ll break off work till to-morrow. We’ll then set about gettin’ the sticks up on her agen, my men, as well as hoist the stores aboard; fur, I means to sail out of this hyar harbour afore the end of the week!”The hands gave a hearty hurrah at this, as if the idea pleased them, for they must have been quite sick of the place by this time; and the skipper therefore ordered Jan Steenbock and Tom, with Hiram, Sam, and I, to come off with him in the boat, telling us when we presently got aboard not to mention about the treasure to any one yet, as it might prevent the men working and rigging the ship, getting her ready for sea.This we promised to do, keeping our word easily enough, as we did not find it difficult to hold our tongues in the matter, considering the lot there was for all hands to talk about concerning Sam’s restoration to life, after being supposed dead so long. Several of the hands, though, persisted that they knew of the deception all along, and had not been taken in by the ghost business; but this was all brag on their part, for I am sure they thoroughly believed in it at the time, just the same as Morris Jones and Hiram and I did—only Tom being in the secret from first to last!In the course of the next four days, all the hands working with a will, even more energetically than they had done when dismantling her, theDenver Cityhad her rigging up all ataunto again, while her graceful yards were crossed, and most of her cargo got aboard, all ready to sail.During this time, the skipper had said not a word about the treasure, nor did he speak of sending up any one to fetch it; and so, as none of us had been back to the cave since quitting it with the captain, after the earthquake and our discovery of the hoard, Hiram and Tom, with Sam and I, stole away late on the afternoon of the fourth day to see whether the boxes were all right—Jan Steenbock being the only one of the original party present when it was found who did not accompany us; but he said he knew it would be unlucky, for him, at all events, and so he preferred stopping away.So it was that only we four went, though Jan came with us part of the way from the ship, sitting down by the spring which had been the haunt of the doves, to await our return.Jan did not have to remain there long alone.No sooner had we got to the cave than we found that the treacherous skipper had anticipated and out-reached us; for, from the hurried look we took, we could see that every single chest and box had been removed, and that all were now probably stored in the captain’s own cabin. No doubt, too, by-and-by, he would swear that we had no hand in finding them, whence, of course, it must follow from his reasoning, we were not entitled to any share in the proceeds from the treasure!This was a pretty state of things, each and all of us thought; and, boiling with indignation, we rushed back to Jan to tell him the news.But, we met with but sorry sympathy from him.“You vas mooch bettaire off,” he said stolidly—“mooch bettaire off mitout ze accursed stoof! It vas bringt harm to Cap’en Shackzon, and ze crew of ze schgooners dat I vas in; and, markt mine vorts, it vas bringt harms to Cap’en Schnaggs, as zertain as I vas here and dere!”“I’m durned, though, if I don’t make him suffer fur it, if he don’t shell out!” cried Hiram hotly, as we all resumed the path back to the shore, much more quickly than we had gone up to the cave. “I’ll give him goss!”“He vill meet his vate vrom elsevere,” said Jan Steenbock solemnly, hurrying after us, for Hiram and Tom seemed all eagerness to tackle the skipper at once, and I trotted close after them. “Ze sbirrit ob ze dreazure vill hoont him, and poonish him in ze end!”And, incredible as my story may seem, quite unwittingly, Jan became a true prophet, as what occurred subsequently will show.When we got to the shore, we found that the ship had her boats hoisted in, and her anchor weighed; while the topsails were cast loose, showing that she was ready to sail at a moment’s notice.What concerned us most, though, was that we could see no means for getting on board; for the dinghy by which we had landed was towing astern by its painter, and thus all communication was cut off with the shore.“Denver City, ahoy!” shouted out Hiram, putting his hands to his mouth as an improvised speaking trumpet. “Send a boat to take us off!”Captain Snaggs at once jumped up on the taffrail on our hailing her.“Not one o’ ye durned cusses comes aboard my shep agen, if I knows it!” he yelled back loudly. “Ye went ashore o’ yer own accord, an’ thaar ye shell stop, by thunder!”“Ye durned thief!” cried Hiram, mad with rage at the villain for thus cheating us, and abandoning us to our fate there on that lone desert isle. “Whaar’s our treesor?”“Guess ye’re ravin’, man,” bawled Captain Snaggs; and then, as if this ended the colloquy, he sang out to the hands forward to “Hoist away!”We then noticed a slight commotion on board, as if some of our shipmates rebelled at the idea of leaving us behind, while they sailed homeward; but this intervention on our behalf was futile, for the skipper brandished his revolver, as we could easily see from the top of the cliff, to which we had now climbed, in order to make our voices better heard on board, and after a momentary pause the sails were let drop and hauled out, and the vessel began to make her way out of the bay.The captain then called out to us, as if in bragging malice, “I’ve got every durned chest aboard! D’ye haar? Flinders an’ I brought ’em down to the beach last night when ye wer all caulkin’; an’ I guess ye air pretty well chiselled at last!—Thet’s quits fur the nigger’s ghost, an’ yer mutiny, an’ all! I reckon I’ve paid ye all out in full, ye durned skellywags!”Those were the last words, in all human probability, that Captain Snaggs ever uttered in this mortal life.There had been slight rumblings underground all the morning of that day, as if nature were warning us of further volcanic disturbance throughout the Galapagian archipelago; and now, of a sudden, an immense tidal wave, that seemed sixty feet high at the least, rolled into the little harbour like a huge wall, filling up the opening between the cliffs on either hand up to the very tops of these, as it came sweeping inward from the outside sea.The next instant, theDenver City, with all on board her, disappeared, the wave sweeping back outwards with its prey, leaving the bottom of the harbour bare for over a mile, where all previously had been deep water.The sea came back once more, though the tidal wave was not so high as before.And still once again—ebb and flow, ebb and flow.It was awful!
We were all speechless, and could see nothing as we scrambled to our feet in the darkness, for the cave was now filled with a thick dust, that nearly suffocated us as well as blinded us—filling our eyes, and mouths, and nostrils.
Presently, the dust settled down; and, then, we found that the cavern was no longer dark, for the crash which had so startled us at first was occasioned by a portion of the roof breaking away, which let in the daylight from above, right immediately over the big rock in the centre that Tom had called “the pulpit.”
The rock, however, had disappeared, and this was, doubtless, the mysterious body that had rushed by us through the mouth of the cave, so frightening Sam.
But something more surprising still had happened.
The earthquake, in rending the rock, had upheaved all the earth around it, and there, beneath, in a large cavity, was a collection of old oaken chests, bound round, apparently, with heavy clamps of iron, similar to those used by our forefathers a couple of centuries ago for the storage of their goods and chattels—boxes that could defy alike the ravages of age and the ordinary wear and tear of time, the carpenters and builders of bygone days making things to last, and not merely to sell, as in modern years!
“Hooray!” cried Hiram, springing towards one of the chests, which had been crushed open by a piece of detached rock from the roof of the cave, thus disclosing to view a lot of glittering ingots of gold, with a crucifix and some little images of the same precious metal, like the Madonna figure we had first discovered. “Hyar’s the boocaneer treesor, I guess, at last!”
“I vas mooch sorry,” said Jan Steenbock, shaking his head solemnly, as we gathered round the hole and eagerly inspected its contents, noticing that there were seven or eight of the large chests within the cavity, besides the broken one and a number of smaller ones, along with pieces of armour and a collection of old guns and pistols, all heaped up together. “I vas mooch sorry. It vas bringt us bat look, like it did to ze schgooners, and Cap’en Shackzon, and all ze crew of zo sheep I vas zail in befores!”
“Why, old hoss,” asked Hiram, all excitement, “I guess we air all friends hyar, an’ ’ll go share an’ share alike; so thaar’s no fear on a muss happenin’ atween us, like thaar wer with ye an’ them durned cut-throat Spaniards. Why shu’d it bring us bad luck, hey?”
“I vas avraid of ze curse,” replied the other. “It vas hoonted mit bloot, and vas bringt harm to every ones! I vill not touch it meinselfs—no, nevaire!”
“Guess I will, though,” retorted Hiram. “I ain’t afeard o’ no nigger ez was buried two hundred year ago; no, nor on his ghostess neither. What say ye, Sam, consarnin’ this brother darkey o’ yourn?”
“Golly, Massa Hiram!” said Sam, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of the gold. “I’se tink I’se hab claim to de lot, if it am belong to de nigger family. Ho-ho-ho!”
With that we all laughed; whereupon the skipper, whom we had forgotten for the moment, made a movement where he still lay on the floor of the cave by the entrance, opening his eyes and trying to get up, which, of course, he was unable to do, from our having tied his legs together.
“Hillo!” he called out. “Whaar am I?”
His voice now seemed quite rational, and on Tom going up to him, he found that the delirium had left him, and that he was quite sober and in his senses again, so he unloosed him, helping him on to his feet.
Strange to say, Captain Snaggs did not utter a word about finding himself tied, nor did he seem in any way surprised at being there amongst us. He was not angry either a bit now!
He simply walked up to where we stood and, looking down at the hole with the chests piled up in it, as if following out a concentrated train of thought which had been simmering in his brain before his fit, exclaimed—
“Thaar it air, jest ez I told ye, an’ ez the buccaneer cap’n told me. Thaar it air all right, I reckon; an’ now we must see about gettin’ it down to the shep.”
This staggered us somewhat; but Tom Bullover thought it best to humour him.
“How would you like it took down to the shore, cap’en?” he asked, deferentially. “Shall I go and fetch some of the hands, sir?”
“Yes, I guess thet’ll be the best plan,” replied Captain Snaggs, as easy as you please, and as if only talking about some ordinary thing, and he were giving his usual orders. “Wait a minnit, though. I guess I’ll come with ye ez soon as I’ve toted up the hull lot, fur thaar ain’t no fear of any coon walkin’ off with the plunder while we’re away, an’ I want to see how the shep’s gettin’ on. I reckon she ought to be pretty near afloat by now.”
There seemed a method in his madness, even if he were yet mad, for he carefully jotted down the number of chests in his pocket-book; and then, turning away as composedly as possible, he made his way down to the beach by our old path, just as if he had been in the habit of going that way every day of his life and it was quite familiar to him.
“Come on, men!” cried he. “Follow me!”
So, down we all tramped after him in single file to the shore, where we found a stranger thing had happened since our long absence, which, long as it seemed from the series of occurrences that had happened, the one succeeding the other in rapid succession, was not long in reality.
However, it appeared months since we had left the ship; for, in the short space of time, comparatively speaking, that we had been away, all around her had been altered, and she more than anything.
Instead of her being high and dry ashore, with her bows up in the air between the two hillocks where they had been wedged, there she was now afloat, placidly riding on the smooth waters of the harbour by her anchors, which had been laid out, it may be remembered, the morning after she stranded.
This was a far more providential circumstance than our finding the treasure; for even Mr Steenbock, sanguine as he had been at first when he suggested digging the dock under her, had begun to have fears of our eventually getting her off again into her native element—the operation taking longer than he had expected, for the water at the last had penetrated through the coffer-dam, thus preventing the men from digging out the after part of the trench under the keel piece, between the main and mizzen-chains.
Now, through the effects of the earthquake, we were fortunately saved all farther trouble on this score.
The skipper did not appear the least surprised at what had happened, displaying the same nonchalance as he did when gazing down into the cavity where the buccaneers’ gold was stowed—as if he had dreamt it all beforehand and everything was turning out exactly according to the sequence of his dream!
As we got nearer, we saw that a number of the men were grouped about the shore, collecting a lot of stray gear, which they were taking off to the ship in the jolly-boat; so, calling to these, Captain Snaggs asked where Mr Flinders was.
“He’s gone aboard bad,” said one of the hands, with a snigger, whereat they all laughed. “He don’t feel all right this arternoon, sir, an’ he went into his cabin afore the ship floated.”
“I guess, then, we’d better go aboard, too,” replied the skipper, quite quiet like. “It’s gettin’ late now, an’ we’ll break off work till to-morrow. We’ll then set about gettin’ the sticks up on her agen, my men, as well as hoist the stores aboard; fur, I means to sail out of this hyar harbour afore the end of the week!”
The hands gave a hearty hurrah at this, as if the idea pleased them, for they must have been quite sick of the place by this time; and the skipper therefore ordered Jan Steenbock and Tom, with Hiram, Sam, and I, to come off with him in the boat, telling us when we presently got aboard not to mention about the treasure to any one yet, as it might prevent the men working and rigging the ship, getting her ready for sea.
This we promised to do, keeping our word easily enough, as we did not find it difficult to hold our tongues in the matter, considering the lot there was for all hands to talk about concerning Sam’s restoration to life, after being supposed dead so long. Several of the hands, though, persisted that they knew of the deception all along, and had not been taken in by the ghost business; but this was all brag on their part, for I am sure they thoroughly believed in it at the time, just the same as Morris Jones and Hiram and I did—only Tom being in the secret from first to last!
In the course of the next four days, all the hands working with a will, even more energetically than they had done when dismantling her, theDenver Cityhad her rigging up all ataunto again, while her graceful yards were crossed, and most of her cargo got aboard, all ready to sail.
During this time, the skipper had said not a word about the treasure, nor did he speak of sending up any one to fetch it; and so, as none of us had been back to the cave since quitting it with the captain, after the earthquake and our discovery of the hoard, Hiram and Tom, with Sam and I, stole away late on the afternoon of the fourth day to see whether the boxes were all right—Jan Steenbock being the only one of the original party present when it was found who did not accompany us; but he said he knew it would be unlucky, for him, at all events, and so he preferred stopping away.
So it was that only we four went, though Jan came with us part of the way from the ship, sitting down by the spring which had been the haunt of the doves, to await our return.
Jan did not have to remain there long alone.
No sooner had we got to the cave than we found that the treacherous skipper had anticipated and out-reached us; for, from the hurried look we took, we could see that every single chest and box had been removed, and that all were now probably stored in the captain’s own cabin. No doubt, too, by-and-by, he would swear that we had no hand in finding them, whence, of course, it must follow from his reasoning, we were not entitled to any share in the proceeds from the treasure!
This was a pretty state of things, each and all of us thought; and, boiling with indignation, we rushed back to Jan to tell him the news.
But, we met with but sorry sympathy from him.
“You vas mooch bettaire off,” he said stolidly—“mooch bettaire off mitout ze accursed stoof! It vas bringt harm to Cap’en Shackzon, and ze crew of ze schgooners dat I vas in; and, markt mine vorts, it vas bringt harms to Cap’en Schnaggs, as zertain as I vas here and dere!”
“I’m durned, though, if I don’t make him suffer fur it, if he don’t shell out!” cried Hiram hotly, as we all resumed the path back to the shore, much more quickly than we had gone up to the cave. “I’ll give him goss!”
“He vill meet his vate vrom elsevere,” said Jan Steenbock solemnly, hurrying after us, for Hiram and Tom seemed all eagerness to tackle the skipper at once, and I trotted close after them. “Ze sbirrit ob ze dreazure vill hoont him, and poonish him in ze end!”
And, incredible as my story may seem, quite unwittingly, Jan became a true prophet, as what occurred subsequently will show.
When we got to the shore, we found that the ship had her boats hoisted in, and her anchor weighed; while the topsails were cast loose, showing that she was ready to sail at a moment’s notice.
What concerned us most, though, was that we could see no means for getting on board; for the dinghy by which we had landed was towing astern by its painter, and thus all communication was cut off with the shore.
“Denver City, ahoy!” shouted out Hiram, putting his hands to his mouth as an improvised speaking trumpet. “Send a boat to take us off!”
Captain Snaggs at once jumped up on the taffrail on our hailing her.
“Not one o’ ye durned cusses comes aboard my shep agen, if I knows it!” he yelled back loudly. “Ye went ashore o’ yer own accord, an’ thaar ye shell stop, by thunder!”
“Ye durned thief!” cried Hiram, mad with rage at the villain for thus cheating us, and abandoning us to our fate there on that lone desert isle. “Whaar’s our treesor?”
“Guess ye’re ravin’, man,” bawled Captain Snaggs; and then, as if this ended the colloquy, he sang out to the hands forward to “Hoist away!”
We then noticed a slight commotion on board, as if some of our shipmates rebelled at the idea of leaving us behind, while they sailed homeward; but this intervention on our behalf was futile, for the skipper brandished his revolver, as we could easily see from the top of the cliff, to which we had now climbed, in order to make our voices better heard on board, and after a momentary pause the sails were let drop and hauled out, and the vessel began to make her way out of the bay.
The captain then called out to us, as if in bragging malice, “I’ve got every durned chest aboard! D’ye haar? Flinders an’ I brought ’em down to the beach last night when ye wer all caulkin’; an’ I guess ye air pretty well chiselled at last!—Thet’s quits fur the nigger’s ghost, an’ yer mutiny, an’ all! I reckon I’ve paid ye all out in full, ye durned skellywags!”
Those were the last words, in all human probability, that Captain Snaggs ever uttered in this mortal life.
There had been slight rumblings underground all the morning of that day, as if nature were warning us of further volcanic disturbance throughout the Galapagian archipelago; and now, of a sudden, an immense tidal wave, that seemed sixty feet high at the least, rolled into the little harbour like a huge wall, filling up the opening between the cliffs on either hand up to the very tops of these, as it came sweeping inward from the outside sea.
The next instant, theDenver City, with all on board her, disappeared, the wave sweeping back outwards with its prey, leaving the bottom of the harbour bare for over a mile, where all previously had been deep water.
The sea came back once more, though the tidal wave was not so high as before.
And still once again—ebb and flow, ebb and flow.
It was awful!
Chapter Twenty One.Rescued.We five—Jan Steenbock, Tom Bullover, Hiram, Sam Jedfoot, and lastly, though by no means least, myself—sole, solitary survivors of the awful catastrophe that had swallowed up our comrades, stood on the cliff above the yawning chasm, watching the tidal wave that still ebbed and flowed in diminishing volume at each reflux.This it continued to do for a full half-hour afterwards, when the sea returned to its normal state, welling up tranquilly on the beach, and quickly washing away all traces of the recent convulsion of nature, as if nothing had happened—a sort of sobbing moan, only, seemed afterwards to come from the water every now and then at spasmodic intervals, as if the spirits of the deep were lamenting over the mischief and destruction they had wrought!Scarcely could we believe our eyes; for, while not a single plank or piece of timber was cast ashore of the ship, which must have been taken down bodily by the remorseless wave that had hurried our cruel captain and no less cruel mate, and the rest of the crew, nineteen souls in all, into eternity, without the slightest forewarning of their doom, the little bay now looked as quiet and peaceful as of yore, with its outstretching capes on either hand, and everything still the same—equally wild, desolate, deserted, as when we first beheld it!Most wonderful of all, though, was the fact that we alone were saved.We were saved!That thought appeared to flash through all our minds at once simultaneously; and, falling on our knees, there, on the summit of the headland, whence we had witnessed the terrible tragedy and now gazed down on the once more placid, treacherous sea, we each and all thanked God for our deliverance from the peril of the waters, as He had already delivered us from the cruelty of man—in the person of that treacherous, drunken demon who had abandoned us there to the solitude and the misery of exile and sailed off to enjoy, as he thought, the ill-gotten treasure of which he had robbed us. But he had met even a worse fate than he had meted out to us; for, what could have been worse for him than to die and be called to account for his misdeeds at the very moment of the realisation of his devilish design?However, peace to his evil spirit, One greater than us poor marooned sailors would be his Judge!That feeling was uppermost in my mind, and I’m sure it was reciprocated by the others, after we had returned thanks to the watchful Providence that had saved us while snatching Captain Snaggs away in the middle of his sins; but his name was not mentioned by any there at that moment, nor did either of us utter a word afterwards, to each other at least, so far as I can remember, about his treatment of us—not even Sam, to whom throughout he had behaved the most cruelly of all.Sailor-folk, as a rule, are not revengeful, and death we held, had blotted out the past; so we, too, buried the skipper’s misdeeds in oblivion!We stopped there on the cliff without speaking until it was close on sunset.Our hearts were too full to express the various thoughts that coursed through our minds; and there we remained, silent and still, as if we five were dumb.All we did was to stare out solemnly on the vast ocean that spread out from beneath our feet to the golden west in the far distance, where sky and sea met on the hazy horizon—with never a sail to break its wide expanse, with never a sound to break our solitude, save the sullen murmuring wash of the surf as it rippled up on the beach, and the heavy, deep-drawn sigh of the water as it rolled back to its parent ocean, taking its weary load of pebbles and sand below, as if sick of the monotonous task, which it was doomed to continue on without cessation, with ever and for ever the same motion, now that its wild, brief orgy was o’er, and its regular routine of duty had to be again resumed!Tom Bullover was the first to break the silence.“Come boys,” he said, when the sun’s lower limb was just dipping into the sea, leaving a solitary pathway of light across the main, while all the rest of the sea became gradually darker, as well as the heavens overhead, telling us that the evening was beginning to close in. “Come, Mr Steenbock and you fellows, we’d best go back to the cave for the night, so as to be out of the damp air. Besides, it won’t be so lonesome like as it is here!”“Ay, bo,” acquiesced Hiram. “Thaar’s Sam’s old sail thaar, which ’ll sarve us fur a bed anyhow.”“Dat so,” chimed in the darkey. “I’se belly comf’able dere till Mass’ Tom friten me wid duppy. I’se got some grub dere, too; an’ we can light fire an’ boil coffee in pannikin, which I’se bring ashore wid me from ship.”“Bully for ye!” cried Hiram, waking up again to the practical realities of life at the thought of eating, and realising that he was hungry, not having, like, indeed, all of us, tasted anything since the morning, the events of the day having made us forget our ordinary meal-time, “I guess I could pick a bit if I’d any thin’ to fix atween my teeth!”“Golly! don’t yer fret, massa,” said Sam cheerfully, in response to this hint, leading the way towards his whilom retreat. “I’se hab a good hunk ob salt pork stow away dere, an’ hard tack, too!”“Why, what made you think of getting provisions up there?” observed I, laughing, being rather surprised at his precaution, when everyone else had been taken up with the treasure, and believed that we were on the point of leaving the island for good and all. “Were you going to give a party, Sam?”“I’se make de preparations fo’ ’mergencies, Cholly,” he replied gravely. “Nobuddy know what happen, an’ dere’s nuffin’ like bein’ suah ob de grub!”“Thet’s true enuff, an’ good sound doctrine. Don’t ye kinder think so, mister?”Jan Steenbock, to whom this question was addressed, made no reply; but, as he got up and followed Sam, Hiram took this for his answer, and went after him, the five of us entering the cave in single file.Here, we found that, from its position on the higher ground, the tidal wave had not effected any damage, the only alteration being that made by the first shock of earthquake, causing the crack across the upper end, which had dislodged the stone in the centre, and disclosed the buccaneers’ treasure. So, then, on Sam’s producing a good big piece of salt junk, with some ship’s biscuit, which he had wrapped up in a yellow bandana handkerchief and stowed away in one corner under his sailcloth, we all imitated the American, and ‘put our teeth through’ the unexpected food, finding ourselves, now that we had something to eat before us, with better appetites than might have been thought possible after what we had gone through.Sailors, though, do not trouble themselves much over things that have happened, looking out more for those to come!The next day, it seemed very strange to wake up and find ourselves alone there, especially after the stirring time we had recently, with the discovery of the treasure, and getting the ship afloat, and all; so, when we crawled out of the cave and went down to the beach, we five forlorn fellows felt more melancholy than can be readily imagined at seeing this bare and desolate, and hearing no sound but that of our own sad voices.Even the coo of the doves was now unnoticeable, the birds having deserted their haunt in the grove after the earthquake shock, as I believe I have mentioned before. Lucky it was for them that their instinct warned them to do this in time; for the tidal wave had swept completely over the place, and the little dell was now all covered with black and white sand, like the rest of the shore—the sloping strand running up to the very base of the cliff, and trees and all traces of vegetation having been washed away by the sudden inrush of the water.Jan Steenbock, whose place it was naturally to be our leader, but who had been so superstitiously impressed by the belief that our calamity was entirely owing to our having anything to do with the buccaneers’ buried treasure, which he supposed, in accordance with the old Spanish legend, to be accursed, now once more reinstated himself in our good opinion, showing himself to be the sensible man that he always was, despite the fact of his having hitherto, from the cause stated, been more despondent than any of us.“My mans,” said he bravely, turning his back on the beach and away from the treacherous, smiling sea, “we moost not give vays to bat toughts and tings! Let us go inlants and do zometing dat vill make us dink of zometing else! We vill go oop to dat blace vere ze groond vas blanted mit tings bedween ze hills, and zee if we can zee any bodatoes or bananes vot to eat; vor, as mein frent Sambo here zays, it vas goot to look after ze grub, vor we hab no sheeps now to zupply us mit provisions!”This was sound advice, which we immediately acted on, our little quintet abandoning the shore, and following our leader again up the cliff to the old deserted plantation. This, it may be remembered, Tom and Hiram and I had first lighted on in our quest for the treasure before we discovered the cave, but we now found out that Jan Steenbock had been previously acquainted with it from being formerly on the island.Here we made a camp, bringing Sam’s sailcloth from the cave, with a tin pot and other mess gear he had stowed away for his own use when in hiding there, and no one knew save Tom Bullover that he was anything but a ghost; and here, thenceforward, by the help of the tortoises, whose flesh we fared on, with an occasional wild hog, when we were lucky enough to catch one, our meat diet being varied with the various tropical vegetables which we found in the valley in profusion, we lived until the rainy season came on, when we went back again to the cave for shelter.It must not be thought, though, that our time was entirely spent in eating, or in devices how we should procure food, notwithstanding that this was the principal care of our solitary desert island life, like as in the case of most shipwrecked mariners.No, we had a greater purpose than this.It was the hope of escaping from our dismal exile, through the help of some coasting vessel bound up or down the Pacific, or to ports within the Gulf of Panama; and, in order to observe such passing craft we erected a signal station on the top of Mount Chalmers, and took it in turns to keep watch there throughout the day, with a bonfire hard by, ready to be kindled the moment a sail was sighted.Alas, our watch for weeks was in vain!Sometimes we would see a ship in the distance, but she was generally too far off to notice us; and our hearts would sink again to utter despondency when this occurred, more than when we never noticed any sail at all, on our seeing her gradually melting away, until she would be finally lost in the mists of the sea and air.At last, however, one morning, about six months or so after the loss of theDenver City—I’m sure I cannot tell the precise date, for we began then to forget even the passage of time—Tom Bullover, who was on the look-out, came rushing down the sloping side of the cliff like a madman, covering yards with each leap and bound he took in his rapid descent, looking as if he were flying.“A sail! a sail!” he shouted, as soon as he got near. “There’s a ship in sight, and she’s just entering the bay!”“Vere?—vere?” cried Jan Steenbock, equally excited, running to meet him. “A sheep? You vas mat, mein pore vellow,—you vas mat!”“Jee-rusalem—no, he ain’t!” exclaimed Hiram, who, standing on the summit of the little mound by the entrance to the cave, could see further out to sea than Jan from below. “Tom’s all right. Hooray! It’s a shep sure enuff, an’ she’s now tarnin’ the p’int on the starboard side over thaar!”With that we all looked now in this direction; and, oh, the blessed sight! There, as Hiram said, was a vessel under full sail rounding the opposite cliff and coming into the bay!“My golly! I shell bust—I’se so glad!” cried poor Sam, dancing, and shouting, and laughing, and crying, all in one breath. “Bress de Lor’! Bress de Lor’!”What I and the rest did to express our joy under the circumstances it would be impossible to tell; but I’m pretty sure we were quite as extravagant in our actions and demeanour as the negro,—if not so hearty in our recognition of the all-wise Providence that had sent this ship to our rescue!There is little more to add.The vessel soon cast anchor in the bay; and on her lowering a boat and reaching the beach where, as may be supposed, we eagerly awaited its coming, we found out that she was a whaler, full of oil, and homeward bound to San Francisco, her captain putting in at Abingdon Island for fresh water and vegetables, as some of his crew were suffering from scurvy, and they had run short of all tinned meat on board, having only salt provisions left.We were thus enabled to mutually accommodate each other, Hiram, and Sam, and Tom Bullover, soon fetching a big store of green stuff from our plantation in the valley, besides securing a batch of tortoises for the men in the boat to kill and take on board; while Jan Steenbock and I went with the whaler’s captain to point out our water-spring near the cave, where the doves’ grove used to be, the stream from the hills still finding its way down there to the sea below, although the little lake, or pool, had become dried up by the accumulation of sand and the trees all disappeared.In return for these welcome supplies, the captain of the whaler gladly agreed to give us all a free passage to ‘’Frisco’; although as I need hardly tell, he would have willingly done this without any such consideration at all, after hearing our story and being made acquainted with the strange and awful catastrophe that had befallen our ill-fated ship.But we were not altogether destitute.Our good fortune, if long in coming, smiled on us at the last; for, the very morning of our departure from the island, a week after the whaler’s arrival, the captain remaining a few days longer than he first intended in order to allow his sick hands to recover, Hiram, while routing out a few traps left in the cave to take on board with us, found, much to Jan Steenbock’s regret,—the second-mate saying it would bring us ill-luck again—one of the little chests containing the buccaneers’ treasure, which Captain Snaggs had left unwittingly behind him when he and Mr Flinders cleared off with the rest, which they thought the entire lot.The box contained a number of gold ingots and silver dollars, which the whaler captain said were worth ‘a heap of money,’ as he expressed it, though he would not take a penny of it for himself.The whaler skipper was an honest man, for he told Hiram Bangs and Tom, who tried to press a certain portion of the treasure on him as his due, that it all rightfully belonged to us, and that he should consider himself a pitiful scoundrel if he took advantage of our misfortunes!There—could anything be nobler than that?“Guess not,” said Hiram; and, so we all agreed!We had a capital voyage to San Francisco from the island, which we were glad enough to lose sight of, with its lava cliffs and cactus plants, and other strange belongings in the animal and vegetable world, and, above all, its sad memories and associations in other ways to us; and no more happy sailors ever landed from board ship than we five did who set foot ashore in the ‘Golden State,’ as California is called, some three odd summers ago.The whaler captain sold our treasure for us; and the share of each of us came to a good round sum—I, though only a boy, being given by the others a fourth share, just as if I had been a man, for Jan Steenbock refused to touch any.My portion, when realised, amounted to over 400 pounds, a sum which, if not quite enough to set one up in life and enable one to stop working, was still ‘not to be sneezed at,’ as Tom Bullover remarked to me confidentially, when we made our way eastwards from San Francisco towards New York, by the Union Pacific line, a month or so afterwards.Hiram remained behind in California, saying he had gone through enough sailoring, and intended trying something in the farming or mining line. But Tom, and Jan Steenbock, and I, with our old friend Sam, stuck together to the end, taking a ship at New York for Liverpool, where we touched English ground again, just a year almost to a day from the time we started on our ill-starred voyage in the poorDenver City.All of us still see each other now and again, even Hiram meeting us sometimes, when he ships in a liner and comes ‘across the herring pond,’ having soon got tired of a life ashore.Our general rendezvous is a little shop kept by Sam Jedfoot, who has married a wife, and supplies goods in the ship-chandling line to vessels outward bound; for the darkey has a large acquaintance amongst stewards and such gentry who have the purchasing of the same, and being a general favourite with all this class of men—save and excepting Welshmen, whom he detests most heartily, somehow or other!I am now a grown-up sailor, too, like Tom Bullover, and he and I always sail together in the same ship.We are called the ‘two inseparables’ by the brokers, for one of us will never sign articles for a new vessel unless the other goes; and, when we come off a voyage and land at Liverpool old town, as frequently is the case, no sooner do we step ashore, at the Prince’s Landing Stage or in the docks, as may happen, than we ‘make tracks,’ to use Hiram Bang’s Yankee lingo, for Sam Jedfoot’s all-sorts shop, hard by in Water Street.Here, ‘you may bet your bottom dollar,’ adopting Hiram’s favourite phrase again, we are always warmly welcomed by our old friend, the whilom darkey cook of the lostDenver City, whose wife also greets us cordially whenever we drop in to visit her ‘good man,’ as she calls him.They are a happy couple, and much attached, though opposed in colour; and, here, of an evening, after the hearty spread which Sam invariably insists on preparing for our enjoyment, to show us that he has not lost practice in his culinary profession, I believe, as well as from his innate sense of hospitality, the ex-cook will—as regularly as he was accustomed to do on board ship in his caboose, towards the end of the second dog-watch, when, you may recollect, the hands were allowed to skylark and divert themselves—take up his banjo, which is the identical same one that he brought home with him from Abingdon Island.The tune he always plays, the song he always sings, is that well-remembered one which none of us, his shipmates, can ever forget, bringing back as it does, with its plaintive refrain, every incident of our memorable passage across the Atlantic and round Cape Horn—aye, and all the way up the Pacific to the Galapagos Isles.It is full of our past life, so pregnant with its strange perils and weird surroundings, and which ended in such a terrible catastrophe:—“Oh, down in Alabama, ’fore I wer sot free,I lubbed a p’ooty yaller gal, an’ fought dat she lubbed me,But she am proob unconstant, an’ leff me hyar to tellHow my pore hart am breakin’ far dat croo-el Nancy Bell!”Sam’s wife, too, although she isn’t a ‘yaller girl,’ but, on the contrary, as white as he is black, and Tom Bullover and I, with Hiram and Jan Steenbock—should either or both happen likewise to be ashore in Liverpool, and with us, of course, at the time—all, as regularly and unfailingly on such occasions join in the same old chorus.Don’t you recollect it?“Den, cheer up, Sam! don’t let your sperrits go down;Dere’s many a gal dat I knows wal am waitin’ fur you in de town!”The ditty always winds up invariably, as in the old days at sea, with the self-same sharp twang of the chords of the banjo at the end of the last bar, that Sam used to give when sitting in the galley of the poorDenver City.“Ponk-a-tink-a-tong-tang. P–lang!”I can hear it now.Bless you, I can never forget that tune—no, never—brimful as it is with the memory of our ill-fated ship.The End.
We five—Jan Steenbock, Tom Bullover, Hiram, Sam Jedfoot, and lastly, though by no means least, myself—sole, solitary survivors of the awful catastrophe that had swallowed up our comrades, stood on the cliff above the yawning chasm, watching the tidal wave that still ebbed and flowed in diminishing volume at each reflux.
This it continued to do for a full half-hour afterwards, when the sea returned to its normal state, welling up tranquilly on the beach, and quickly washing away all traces of the recent convulsion of nature, as if nothing had happened—a sort of sobbing moan, only, seemed afterwards to come from the water every now and then at spasmodic intervals, as if the spirits of the deep were lamenting over the mischief and destruction they had wrought!
Scarcely could we believe our eyes; for, while not a single plank or piece of timber was cast ashore of the ship, which must have been taken down bodily by the remorseless wave that had hurried our cruel captain and no less cruel mate, and the rest of the crew, nineteen souls in all, into eternity, without the slightest forewarning of their doom, the little bay now looked as quiet and peaceful as of yore, with its outstretching capes on either hand, and everything still the same—equally wild, desolate, deserted, as when we first beheld it!
Most wonderful of all, though, was the fact that we alone were saved.
We were saved!
That thought appeared to flash through all our minds at once simultaneously; and, falling on our knees, there, on the summit of the headland, whence we had witnessed the terrible tragedy and now gazed down on the once more placid, treacherous sea, we each and all thanked God for our deliverance from the peril of the waters, as He had already delivered us from the cruelty of man—in the person of that treacherous, drunken demon who had abandoned us there to the solitude and the misery of exile and sailed off to enjoy, as he thought, the ill-gotten treasure of which he had robbed us. But he had met even a worse fate than he had meted out to us; for, what could have been worse for him than to die and be called to account for his misdeeds at the very moment of the realisation of his devilish design?
However, peace to his evil spirit, One greater than us poor marooned sailors would be his Judge!
That feeling was uppermost in my mind, and I’m sure it was reciprocated by the others, after we had returned thanks to the watchful Providence that had saved us while snatching Captain Snaggs away in the middle of his sins; but his name was not mentioned by any there at that moment, nor did either of us utter a word afterwards, to each other at least, so far as I can remember, about his treatment of us—not even Sam, to whom throughout he had behaved the most cruelly of all.
Sailor-folk, as a rule, are not revengeful, and death we held, had blotted out the past; so we, too, buried the skipper’s misdeeds in oblivion!
We stopped there on the cliff without speaking until it was close on sunset.
Our hearts were too full to express the various thoughts that coursed through our minds; and there we remained, silent and still, as if we five were dumb.
All we did was to stare out solemnly on the vast ocean that spread out from beneath our feet to the golden west in the far distance, where sky and sea met on the hazy horizon—with never a sail to break its wide expanse, with never a sound to break our solitude, save the sullen murmuring wash of the surf as it rippled up on the beach, and the heavy, deep-drawn sigh of the water as it rolled back to its parent ocean, taking its weary load of pebbles and sand below, as if sick of the monotonous task, which it was doomed to continue on without cessation, with ever and for ever the same motion, now that its wild, brief orgy was o’er, and its regular routine of duty had to be again resumed!
Tom Bullover was the first to break the silence.
“Come boys,” he said, when the sun’s lower limb was just dipping into the sea, leaving a solitary pathway of light across the main, while all the rest of the sea became gradually darker, as well as the heavens overhead, telling us that the evening was beginning to close in. “Come, Mr Steenbock and you fellows, we’d best go back to the cave for the night, so as to be out of the damp air. Besides, it won’t be so lonesome like as it is here!”
“Ay, bo,” acquiesced Hiram. “Thaar’s Sam’s old sail thaar, which ’ll sarve us fur a bed anyhow.”
“Dat so,” chimed in the darkey. “I’se belly comf’able dere till Mass’ Tom friten me wid duppy. I’se got some grub dere, too; an’ we can light fire an’ boil coffee in pannikin, which I’se bring ashore wid me from ship.”
“Bully for ye!” cried Hiram, waking up again to the practical realities of life at the thought of eating, and realising that he was hungry, not having, like, indeed, all of us, tasted anything since the morning, the events of the day having made us forget our ordinary meal-time, “I guess I could pick a bit if I’d any thin’ to fix atween my teeth!”
“Golly! don’t yer fret, massa,” said Sam cheerfully, in response to this hint, leading the way towards his whilom retreat. “I’se hab a good hunk ob salt pork stow away dere, an’ hard tack, too!”
“Why, what made you think of getting provisions up there?” observed I, laughing, being rather surprised at his precaution, when everyone else had been taken up with the treasure, and believed that we were on the point of leaving the island for good and all. “Were you going to give a party, Sam?”
“I’se make de preparations fo’ ’mergencies, Cholly,” he replied gravely. “Nobuddy know what happen, an’ dere’s nuffin’ like bein’ suah ob de grub!”
“Thet’s true enuff, an’ good sound doctrine. Don’t ye kinder think so, mister?”
Jan Steenbock, to whom this question was addressed, made no reply; but, as he got up and followed Sam, Hiram took this for his answer, and went after him, the five of us entering the cave in single file.
Here, we found that, from its position on the higher ground, the tidal wave had not effected any damage, the only alteration being that made by the first shock of earthquake, causing the crack across the upper end, which had dislodged the stone in the centre, and disclosed the buccaneers’ treasure. So, then, on Sam’s producing a good big piece of salt junk, with some ship’s biscuit, which he had wrapped up in a yellow bandana handkerchief and stowed away in one corner under his sailcloth, we all imitated the American, and ‘put our teeth through’ the unexpected food, finding ourselves, now that we had something to eat before us, with better appetites than might have been thought possible after what we had gone through.
Sailors, though, do not trouble themselves much over things that have happened, looking out more for those to come!
The next day, it seemed very strange to wake up and find ourselves alone there, especially after the stirring time we had recently, with the discovery of the treasure, and getting the ship afloat, and all; so, when we crawled out of the cave and went down to the beach, we five forlorn fellows felt more melancholy than can be readily imagined at seeing this bare and desolate, and hearing no sound but that of our own sad voices.
Even the coo of the doves was now unnoticeable, the birds having deserted their haunt in the grove after the earthquake shock, as I believe I have mentioned before. Lucky it was for them that their instinct warned them to do this in time; for the tidal wave had swept completely over the place, and the little dell was now all covered with black and white sand, like the rest of the shore—the sloping strand running up to the very base of the cliff, and trees and all traces of vegetation having been washed away by the sudden inrush of the water.
Jan Steenbock, whose place it was naturally to be our leader, but who had been so superstitiously impressed by the belief that our calamity was entirely owing to our having anything to do with the buccaneers’ buried treasure, which he supposed, in accordance with the old Spanish legend, to be accursed, now once more reinstated himself in our good opinion, showing himself to be the sensible man that he always was, despite the fact of his having hitherto, from the cause stated, been more despondent than any of us.
“My mans,” said he bravely, turning his back on the beach and away from the treacherous, smiling sea, “we moost not give vays to bat toughts and tings! Let us go inlants and do zometing dat vill make us dink of zometing else! We vill go oop to dat blace vere ze groond vas blanted mit tings bedween ze hills, and zee if we can zee any bodatoes or bananes vot to eat; vor, as mein frent Sambo here zays, it vas goot to look after ze grub, vor we hab no sheeps now to zupply us mit provisions!”
This was sound advice, which we immediately acted on, our little quintet abandoning the shore, and following our leader again up the cliff to the old deserted plantation. This, it may be remembered, Tom and Hiram and I had first lighted on in our quest for the treasure before we discovered the cave, but we now found out that Jan Steenbock had been previously acquainted with it from being formerly on the island.
Here we made a camp, bringing Sam’s sailcloth from the cave, with a tin pot and other mess gear he had stowed away for his own use when in hiding there, and no one knew save Tom Bullover that he was anything but a ghost; and here, thenceforward, by the help of the tortoises, whose flesh we fared on, with an occasional wild hog, when we were lucky enough to catch one, our meat diet being varied with the various tropical vegetables which we found in the valley in profusion, we lived until the rainy season came on, when we went back again to the cave for shelter.
It must not be thought, though, that our time was entirely spent in eating, or in devices how we should procure food, notwithstanding that this was the principal care of our solitary desert island life, like as in the case of most shipwrecked mariners.
No, we had a greater purpose than this.
It was the hope of escaping from our dismal exile, through the help of some coasting vessel bound up or down the Pacific, or to ports within the Gulf of Panama; and, in order to observe such passing craft we erected a signal station on the top of Mount Chalmers, and took it in turns to keep watch there throughout the day, with a bonfire hard by, ready to be kindled the moment a sail was sighted.
Alas, our watch for weeks was in vain!
Sometimes we would see a ship in the distance, but she was generally too far off to notice us; and our hearts would sink again to utter despondency when this occurred, more than when we never noticed any sail at all, on our seeing her gradually melting away, until she would be finally lost in the mists of the sea and air.
At last, however, one morning, about six months or so after the loss of theDenver City—I’m sure I cannot tell the precise date, for we began then to forget even the passage of time—Tom Bullover, who was on the look-out, came rushing down the sloping side of the cliff like a madman, covering yards with each leap and bound he took in his rapid descent, looking as if he were flying.
“A sail! a sail!” he shouted, as soon as he got near. “There’s a ship in sight, and she’s just entering the bay!”
“Vere?—vere?” cried Jan Steenbock, equally excited, running to meet him. “A sheep? You vas mat, mein pore vellow,—you vas mat!”
“Jee-rusalem—no, he ain’t!” exclaimed Hiram, who, standing on the summit of the little mound by the entrance to the cave, could see further out to sea than Jan from below. “Tom’s all right. Hooray! It’s a shep sure enuff, an’ she’s now tarnin’ the p’int on the starboard side over thaar!”
With that we all looked now in this direction; and, oh, the blessed sight! There, as Hiram said, was a vessel under full sail rounding the opposite cliff and coming into the bay!
“My golly! I shell bust—I’se so glad!” cried poor Sam, dancing, and shouting, and laughing, and crying, all in one breath. “Bress de Lor’! Bress de Lor’!”
What I and the rest did to express our joy under the circumstances it would be impossible to tell; but I’m pretty sure we were quite as extravagant in our actions and demeanour as the negro,—if not so hearty in our recognition of the all-wise Providence that had sent this ship to our rescue!
There is little more to add.
The vessel soon cast anchor in the bay; and on her lowering a boat and reaching the beach where, as may be supposed, we eagerly awaited its coming, we found out that she was a whaler, full of oil, and homeward bound to San Francisco, her captain putting in at Abingdon Island for fresh water and vegetables, as some of his crew were suffering from scurvy, and they had run short of all tinned meat on board, having only salt provisions left.
We were thus enabled to mutually accommodate each other, Hiram, and Sam, and Tom Bullover, soon fetching a big store of green stuff from our plantation in the valley, besides securing a batch of tortoises for the men in the boat to kill and take on board; while Jan Steenbock and I went with the whaler’s captain to point out our water-spring near the cave, where the doves’ grove used to be, the stream from the hills still finding its way down there to the sea below, although the little lake, or pool, had become dried up by the accumulation of sand and the trees all disappeared.
In return for these welcome supplies, the captain of the whaler gladly agreed to give us all a free passage to ‘’Frisco’; although as I need hardly tell, he would have willingly done this without any such consideration at all, after hearing our story and being made acquainted with the strange and awful catastrophe that had befallen our ill-fated ship.
But we were not altogether destitute.
Our good fortune, if long in coming, smiled on us at the last; for, the very morning of our departure from the island, a week after the whaler’s arrival, the captain remaining a few days longer than he first intended in order to allow his sick hands to recover, Hiram, while routing out a few traps left in the cave to take on board with us, found, much to Jan Steenbock’s regret,—the second-mate saying it would bring us ill-luck again—one of the little chests containing the buccaneers’ treasure, which Captain Snaggs had left unwittingly behind him when he and Mr Flinders cleared off with the rest, which they thought the entire lot.
The box contained a number of gold ingots and silver dollars, which the whaler captain said were worth ‘a heap of money,’ as he expressed it, though he would not take a penny of it for himself.
The whaler skipper was an honest man, for he told Hiram Bangs and Tom, who tried to press a certain portion of the treasure on him as his due, that it all rightfully belonged to us, and that he should consider himself a pitiful scoundrel if he took advantage of our misfortunes!
There—could anything be nobler than that?
“Guess not,” said Hiram; and, so we all agreed!
We had a capital voyage to San Francisco from the island, which we were glad enough to lose sight of, with its lava cliffs and cactus plants, and other strange belongings in the animal and vegetable world, and, above all, its sad memories and associations in other ways to us; and no more happy sailors ever landed from board ship than we five did who set foot ashore in the ‘Golden State,’ as California is called, some three odd summers ago.
The whaler captain sold our treasure for us; and the share of each of us came to a good round sum—I, though only a boy, being given by the others a fourth share, just as if I had been a man, for Jan Steenbock refused to touch any.
My portion, when realised, amounted to over 400 pounds, a sum which, if not quite enough to set one up in life and enable one to stop working, was still ‘not to be sneezed at,’ as Tom Bullover remarked to me confidentially, when we made our way eastwards from San Francisco towards New York, by the Union Pacific line, a month or so afterwards.
Hiram remained behind in California, saying he had gone through enough sailoring, and intended trying something in the farming or mining line. But Tom, and Jan Steenbock, and I, with our old friend Sam, stuck together to the end, taking a ship at New York for Liverpool, where we touched English ground again, just a year almost to a day from the time we started on our ill-starred voyage in the poorDenver City.
All of us still see each other now and again, even Hiram meeting us sometimes, when he ships in a liner and comes ‘across the herring pond,’ having soon got tired of a life ashore.
Our general rendezvous is a little shop kept by Sam Jedfoot, who has married a wife, and supplies goods in the ship-chandling line to vessels outward bound; for the darkey has a large acquaintance amongst stewards and such gentry who have the purchasing of the same, and being a general favourite with all this class of men—save and excepting Welshmen, whom he detests most heartily, somehow or other!
I am now a grown-up sailor, too, like Tom Bullover, and he and I always sail together in the same ship.
We are called the ‘two inseparables’ by the brokers, for one of us will never sign articles for a new vessel unless the other goes; and, when we come off a voyage and land at Liverpool old town, as frequently is the case, no sooner do we step ashore, at the Prince’s Landing Stage or in the docks, as may happen, than we ‘make tracks,’ to use Hiram Bang’s Yankee lingo, for Sam Jedfoot’s all-sorts shop, hard by in Water Street.
Here, ‘you may bet your bottom dollar,’ adopting Hiram’s favourite phrase again, we are always warmly welcomed by our old friend, the whilom darkey cook of the lostDenver City, whose wife also greets us cordially whenever we drop in to visit her ‘good man,’ as she calls him.
They are a happy couple, and much attached, though opposed in colour; and, here, of an evening, after the hearty spread which Sam invariably insists on preparing for our enjoyment, to show us that he has not lost practice in his culinary profession, I believe, as well as from his innate sense of hospitality, the ex-cook will—as regularly as he was accustomed to do on board ship in his caboose, towards the end of the second dog-watch, when, you may recollect, the hands were allowed to skylark and divert themselves—take up his banjo, which is the identical same one that he brought home with him from Abingdon Island.
The tune he always plays, the song he always sings, is that well-remembered one which none of us, his shipmates, can ever forget, bringing back as it does, with its plaintive refrain, every incident of our memorable passage across the Atlantic and round Cape Horn—aye, and all the way up the Pacific to the Galapagos Isles.
It is full of our past life, so pregnant with its strange perils and weird surroundings, and which ended in such a terrible catastrophe:—
“Oh, down in Alabama, ’fore I wer sot free,I lubbed a p’ooty yaller gal, an’ fought dat she lubbed me,But she am proob unconstant, an’ leff me hyar to tellHow my pore hart am breakin’ far dat croo-el Nancy Bell!”
“Oh, down in Alabama, ’fore I wer sot free,I lubbed a p’ooty yaller gal, an’ fought dat she lubbed me,But she am proob unconstant, an’ leff me hyar to tellHow my pore hart am breakin’ far dat croo-el Nancy Bell!”
Sam’s wife, too, although she isn’t a ‘yaller girl,’ but, on the contrary, as white as he is black, and Tom Bullover and I, with Hiram and Jan Steenbock—should either or both happen likewise to be ashore in Liverpool, and with us, of course, at the time—all, as regularly and unfailingly on such occasions join in the same old chorus.
Don’t you recollect it?
“Den, cheer up, Sam! don’t let your sperrits go down;Dere’s many a gal dat I knows wal am waitin’ fur you in de town!”
“Den, cheer up, Sam! don’t let your sperrits go down;Dere’s many a gal dat I knows wal am waitin’ fur you in de town!”
The ditty always winds up invariably, as in the old days at sea, with the self-same sharp twang of the chords of the banjo at the end of the last bar, that Sam used to give when sitting in the galley of the poorDenver City.
“Ponk-a-tink-a-tong-tang. P–lang!”
I can hear it now.
Bless you, I can never forget that tune—no, never—brimful as it is with the memory of our ill-fated ship.
|Chapter 1| |Chapter 2| |Chapter 3| |Chapter 4| |Chapter 5| |Chapter 6| |Chapter 7| |Chapter 8| |Chapter 9| |Chapter 10| |Chapter 11| |Chapter 12| |Chapter 13| |Chapter 14| |Chapter 15| |Chapter 16| |Chapter 17| |Chapter 18| |Chapter 19| |Chapter 20| |Chapter 21|