CHAPTER XII.A STRANGE SPECTACLE.
Although Andy had paid no attention to the departure of the boys and the mate, he was watching eagerly for their return, and Gil said, laughingly, as he saw the old darky’s woolly pate just outside the forward companionway hatch:
“I suppose he thought we would never come back; that the voudoos were sure to catch us. We must ask him how it is he feels secure now, when a short time ago he was confident we should not live to get home again.”
“He has probably conjured up some kind of a charm,” the mate replied, as he leaped aboard the yacht, painter in hand, and at that instant the cook disappeared very suddenly.
Captain Mansfield was taking his ease under the awning aft when the boys came over the rail, and from the expression on their faces he knew the forenoon’s work had produced no satisfactory results.
“Treasure-hunting in such a climate isn’t what it is cracked up to be, eh?” he cried.
“We haven’t found what we wanted yet, but we may be more successful to-morrow,” Gil said, just a trifle sheepishly.
“Take your time about it, but let me know when youbegin to grow discouraged, for this isn’t the safest anchorage I have seen, in case the wind comes from any northerly quarter.”
It really seemed as if Mr. Jenkins had been seized with an attack of the treasure-hunting fever, for, without waiting to eat dinner, which was already prepared, he produced his glass and began searching the thicket.
“Are you looking for an old tree?” Nelse asked.
“Yes; we may as well get our bearings at once, and save just so much time to-morrow morning.”
“Do you see any?”
“No less than three. I’ll mark out a course to each, and neither of them are so far from the shore but that we can visit all in half a day.”
At this moment Andy came from the galley on his way to the after pantry, and, motioning to Gil to do the same, Nelse followed him.
“Well, you see we went on shore and escaped being devoured by the voudoos,” he said, when all three entered the cabin.
“Don’t say nuffin ’bout it, honey,” the cook whispered, imploringly. “Dis yere schooner ain’t outer de reach ob dem debbils till she’s boun’ home.”
“Tell us what you did to protect yourself?” Gil asked. “We tried to get into the galley last night in order to learn the same thing, but you wouldn’t open the door.”
“You’se crazy, chile, ter tork so loud when we’se in dis yere place. I couldn’t tole yer nuffin ’bout it, kase den de charm would spile. Ef yer don’ go ashore ag’in there’s er chance ob gittin’ off wid our lives.”
“Then it is a charm you’ve got!” Nelse cried, gleefully. “Let us see it, Andy.”
“I’se done gone ’bliged to keep cl’ar ob you chillun ef dar’s any mo’ said ’bout it,” the cook replied, angrily. “We’se in a mighty bad scrape, an’ I’se got my han’s full takin’ keer ob Andy Storts widout tryin’ fur ter bring mo’ trubble by torkin’.”
This ended the conversation, so far as the old darky was concerned, for, after placing certain additional dishes on the table, he betook himself to the seclusion of his galley.
Mr. Jenkins could apparently think of nothing but the supposed treasure, and during a greater portion of the remainder of the day he pored over the rude chart, discussing with the boys the possibility that it might refer to some other island.
Andy took great pains to stay out of the way all this time, and they saw nothing of him until supper was served; but even then he refused to speak.
That evening Gil and Nelse slung hammocks under the awning, intending to sleep on deck because of the excessive heat which rendered the cabin suffocatingly close, and the mate ensconced himself in a folding-chair which could be stretched out in the semblance of a bed.
It was nine o’clock. Save for the low, musical murmur of the sea on the sandy beach, not a sound could be heard, and the boys were fast sinking into the arms of the dream-god when Mr. Jenkins whispered, excitedly:
“Look there! I reckon there’s considerable in Andy’s yarn about voudoos.”
This was sufficient to cause the boys to leap from their hammocks very suddenly, and, gazing in the direction pointed out by the mate they saw nothing more remarkable than the glow of a fire about half a mile to the eastward of where they had landed during the forenoon.
“There’s not much startling about that,” Gil said, in a tone of disappointment.
“It shows there are human beings ashore near here, although we failed to find any traces of them.”
“But it doesn’t prove that they are other than honest fishermen or planters,” Nelse added.
“I’m not so sure,” Mr. Jenkins replied, in a musing tone. “If there was nothing out of the ordinary run going on over there why should a fire have been built?”
“It won’t take us long to learn,” Gil cried, for his last remark had aroused his curiosity. “What is to prevent our rowing over that way? The tender hasn’t been taken out of the water, and, although we’ve had plenty of exercise to-day, a little more won’t do us any harm.”
“I’m with you if the captain makes no objection,” the mate said, as he sprang to his feet, and Gil’s father, who had overheard the conversation, replied:
“Do as you please, but don’t stay away too long, for at this season of the year it is impossible to say when a breeze may spring up which would make our anchorage a dangerous one.”
“It isn’t likely we shall want to land,” Gil said as he went to the cabin for his and Nelse’s revolvers, and five minutes later the little party were rowing toward the reflectionof the fire, Gil and Nelse at the oars, and Mr. Jenkins steering.
“Be careful,” the mate had said, in a low tone, as they left the side of the yacht. “On such a night as this sound travels a long distance over the water, and you don’t want to splash about much.”
This admonition was unnecessary. The thought that they might be on the brink of some wonderful discovery rendered both the boys cautious, and he who could hear anything as the little craft glided toward the shore would need to have a very acute sense of hearing.
Perhaps half-an-hour elapsed before they were near that portion of the shore from which the light had been reflected, and then it was learned that the blaze was some distance inland.
It was possible to distinguish voices in an unmusical song or chant, but nothing could be seen, and Mr. Jenkins whispered:
“We might just as well have stayed on the schooner, so far as learning anything is concerned. Shall we go back, or do you boys want to creep up on those fellows?”
It was evident that the mate wished to land, but preferred to have it appear as if he was doing so simply to oblige his companions.
“I would like to see what is going on in there,” Nelse said, and Gil added, after a moment’s thought:
“There can be no harm in trying it. Those who are making that noise would hardly dare to raise a row in case we betrayed our whereabouts, and, besides, armed aswe are, it should be possible to hold our own against quite a crowd.”
The boat’s bow was run gently on the sand, and Mr. Jenkins stepped softly over the side to hold her while the boys got out, after which she was carried a full length up on the shore.
“I’ll go ahead,” the mate whispered, “and you take good care to keep close to me, for it would make a bad mess if we should get separated in the darkness.”
“Go on; we’ll take care of that part,” Gil whispered, and the advance was begun slowly, for it was no easy matter to make one’s way among the dense foliage with the necessary degree of silence.
As the party advanced the sound of voices became more distinct, and finally it became positive that some odd sort of a performance was being given in this wild place.
When about three hundred yards had been traversed the mate came to a sudden halt, and, as he pulled aside a cluster of saw palmettos the boys had a full view.
Instinctively they had crouched to the ground when Mr. Jenkins’ movements told that the journey was ended, and, screened by the underbrush, it seemed positive they were hidden from that strange party.
The fire had been built in a small cleared space at the foot of a huge palm tree, and over the flames was suspended an iron pot, from which a most disagreeable odor arose.
For the time being, however, the spectators had no thought for anything save the actors in this strange spectacle.
No less than twenty coal-black men, naked, save for a cloth about the loins were dancing to and fro near the blaze, bending their bodies in every possible position, and making the hideous noise with greatest energy. Now and then one would circle around the pot several times in succession, howling yet louder, while his companions remained silent, and at the end of the dismal song would throw something into the boiling mass, after which the uproar increased until another member of the party performed the same ceremony.
Gil was very positive he saw first a snake and then a toad thrown into the pot, and it hardly seemed possible the cooking would be followed by eating.
The faces of the dancers were painted with vivid red lines, as if the coloring matter was blood, and two of the eldest members had the same kind of ornamentation covering their entire bodies.
When the crowd had apparently exhausted themselves by this sort of exercise, they crouched around the fire, looking more like gigantic frogs than human beings, and the old fellows stirred the contents of the pot, making the most uncouth gestures meanwhile.
Then it appeared as if the “broth” was done.
The performers began to dance and sing once more, and Gil had just thought that it was time for them to retrace their steps, when the two highly-decorated performers set about ladling the disgusting-looking stuff into cocoanut shells.
A dozen portions were taken from the pot, and handed to as many men, each of whom immediately startedthrough the thicket in a different direction, one passing so near Nelse that it seemed as if he leaped directly over the boy, and the remainder of the crowd redoubled their howls and contortions.
Mr. Jenkins pressed the hands of his companions to intimate that it was time for them to leave, and the boys rose to their feet, following him at a comparatively swift pace, to the spot where the boat had been left.
“We must have missed our way somehow,” the mate whispered, when they finally emerged from the thicket, and saw no signs of the craft. “I could almost swear that this is the place where we landed.”
“So it is,” Gil replied, in dismay. “Here is the imprint of her keel in the sand. Some of those fellows who left with the soup have stolen her.”