WHEN I recovered my senses the sun had risen above the horizon, and I found myself lying within the stockade of the temple—not in the clutches of the bloodthirsty savages, but surrounded by my friends. Yet without the wooden fence were the natives, who, judging by their shrill cries and shouts of defiance, had recovered from their superstitious panic. I sat up and looked wearily around.
The idol, with its outstretched sword, doubtless a relic from a castaway Spanish warship, still remained as if to dispel any thoughts that the previous night had been but a horrible dream; there was the stone of sacrifice, and two smouldering heaps of charred wood still marked the spot where the fires for the interrupted cannibal feast had been lighted.
The stockade had been hastily adapted for purposes of defence. The Maxim, on its light tripod, commanded the open square without the gate, and around it was a group of seamen, to whom my father was giving various orders.
Uncle Herbert, with the rest of the men—for the whole of the "Fortuna's" crew save two, who were left on board, had taken part in the brave attempt at rescue—was busily engaged in loopholing the stockade at convenient distances, while Dr. Conolly, who had apparently completely recovered from his terrible ordeal, had regained possession of his revolver and was overhauling its mechanism. Yadillah still preserved his impassive demeanour, but into the folds of his voluptuous girdle, which he had recovered in a practically unsoiled state, he had thrust a long knife and a heavy Service revolver.
"Hello, Reggie!" exclaimed my father, who, seeing me slowly arise, had left the party with the Maxim and had hastened over to where I was sitting. "Feeling better, eh? Well, pull yourself together, and give a hand, for every man has his work cut out if we want to get out of this fuss with whole skins."
He spoke cheerily, but I afterwards learnt he was almost distracted when on the arrival of the rescue party, too late as he feared, we had been found bound to the altar stone.
I staggered to my feet, and, dizzy and faint from the effects of being in a cramped position during those terrible hours, I had great difficulty to prevent myself from falling, but a draught from a tin pannikin revived me wonderfully. My sporting rifle was hopelessly lost, so, picking up a revolver and a well-filled bandolier, I made my way across the courtyard to where the Maxim was trained ready to open fire.
The natives had gathered in a dense and disorderly mob around the chief's house and were making preparations to rush the gateway of the stockade. There were, I should think, nearly a thousand of them, against which a little band of Britishers, fifteen in all, had an almost superhuman task to perform, the result of which was to be either victory or a dreadful death.
"Steady, lads! Here they come!"
The two men at the Maxim, cool and collected, worked as calmly as if taking part in a sham fight.
"Commence!"
How shall I describe the terrible scene that followed?
Pop-pop-pop! Pop-pop-pop! The cartridge belt with its string of 250 rounds of .303 ammunition began to run swiftly through the breech-block, and from the water-jackets the steam rose in a thick cloud.
The centre of the dense mass of natives was literally crushed and beaten to the earth, but with redoubled shouts the flanks converged on the gate. At the critical moment there was a sudden pause in the firing—the Maxim had jammed!
Rapidly the men withdrew the belt, to find that a badly placed cartridge had projected sufficiently to prevent its passing through the breech; but even as they were thus engaged the foremost of the savages were almost within striking distance of the gate.
In obedience to a hoarse order the rest of the men temporarily forsook their stations at the loopholes, and, doubling up with fixed bayonets, poured in a rapid magazine fire upon the dense mass, while the deeper crack of the Webleys added to the deafening noise.
With a reckless disregard of their own safety; the natives, brandishing their terrible sharks'-toothed swords and spears, rushed dauntlessly towards the gate. Some, bearing the bodies of their slain comrades, strove to cast them upon the bayonets to break down the line of glittering steel; others, trusting to the protection afforded by their shields, found to their cost that fanatical bravery was useless before the weapons of the white man.
In the struggle we did not come of scatheless. One of the seamen, Barnes, lay on the ground, his leg transfixed with a jagged spear; nevertheless he continued firing, emptying his magazine with undiminished energy. Another, though who it was I was at the time unable to see, was doubled up in a heap by the side of the Maxim, while others received wounds of a less serious nature.
Notwithstanding the hot rifle and revolver fire, the savages kept up the attack with indomitable courage till, the jam having been cleared, the Maxim reopened fire, and under the withering blast the attackers melted and dispersed in utter disorder, leaving over a hundred of their number piled in ghastly heaps before the gate. Nor did they cease their headlong flight till well out of range.
The moment the fight was over, the doctor began his work of succouring the wounded. Barnes's case was by far the worst, as the fearful wound caused by the triple-headed spear had severed an artery, while Dr. Conolly had reason to suspect that the weapon was poisoned. Being without medical appliances, all that could be done for the sufferer was to apply a rough tourniquet, carefully wash the wound, and place a temporary bandage round the limb. The other man, who turned out to be Hinks, the "No. 1" of the Maxim, had been stunned by a large stone thrown at close range; but by a liberal application of cold water, of which there was fortunately a good supply, he was revived.
"We must get back to the ship as soon as possible," said my father. "The ammunition will run short if we stay here much longer."
"Let's hope they won't attack us on the way," replied the bos'n. "With two badly wounded men it would be hard for us."
"Yes, two men as stretcher-bearers to carry each of them, and two for the Maxim. That leaves but seven able to bear arms."
"Do you propose to burn the village? It would serve to impress the lesson more deeply."
"No; I think the poor fellows have suffered enough. Look upon the case from their point of view. Suppose, for instance, a party of niggers interfered with us at home—committed sacrilege, and otherwise trod on the corns of our feelings—wouldn't you cut up rough? Yet Conolly, by potting their sacred water-god, or whatever they call it, set the whole swarm of them buzzing round our heads. It's natural, after all. But there is one thing I'll burn, however."
"And that is——?"
"The idol."
Two stout levers were placed under the base of the grinning image, and with a hearty cheer the men bent to their work, and the ponderous mass of painted wood trembled, swayed for a few moments, then pitched headlong on the ground.
My father bent over it to more closely examine the painted and befeathered object. Suddenly he gave an exclamation of surprise.
"Herbert," he called to his brother, "come here and tell us what you think of this."
"Why," replied my uncle, "it's a figure-head."
"It is, or rather was. But it is more than that. See, the pedestal is carved with long staves, each surmounted by a cross."
"Well?"
"A cross-surmounted pole is the symbol of St. Philip the Apostle; consequently, unless I am much mistaken, the idol was at one time the figurehead of the 'San Philipo.' Of course, we cannot take it with us now; but, should an opportunity occur, I mean to have this relic on board the 'Fortuna.' Is everything ready, Mr. Wilkins?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well; we'll try and make our way back to the ship."
A final examination showed that there were no signs of the natives in the vicinity of the village; so, taking the two wounded men on stretchers roughly improvised from bamboo poles and belts, we began our retreat.
It was a nerve-racking ordeal. From the pitiless glare of the sun the narrow path looked black and forbidding under the trees, and with the possibility that every thicket concealed a bloodthirsty enemy, every man was keenly on the alert. The snapping of a twig or the passage of a bird amongst the treetops caused the men to halt, with rifle at the ready, in anticipation of a fierce onslaught from an unseen foe; while, to add to our difficulties, Hinks began to show symptoms of lightheadedness, shouting and struggling so violently that he had to be strapped to the litter, while Barnes groaned loudly at each jolt of the stretcher.
But nothing of a hostile nature occurred, and at length, after a tedious two hours' march, we emerged from the wood and reached the beach; and it is doubtful whether Xenophon's Ten Thousand hailed the sight of the sea with greater delight than we did. For there lay the "Fortuna," riding easily to her anchor.
In obedience to a signal the two men who had been left on board manned the whaler and pulled for the beach, and ten minutes later the boat, heavily laden, was making its way back to the yacht.
Worn out with the effects of our terrible experience, we spent the rest of the day in idleness. For my part, after a good lunch, I turned in and slept till next morning, although once or twice I woke up in a bath of perspiration, the outcome of that horrible night.
Half an hour later we were over the scene of operations, and the divers immediately descended. It was a slow, tedious task, the clearing away of the weed and silt over the deck of the wreck, but before we could use a blasting charge it was necessary to thoroughly explore the hull, in order to make sure that the wreck was not too rotten to withstand the explosion.
Two hours elapsed, and the divers ascended, reporting good progress, but a lot of work lay before them, the tendrils of seaweed proving stubborn guardians of the hidden treasure; still, already they had made a passage to within a few feet of where the main hatch should be. After the midday meal down went the divers again for another two hours, and to me, sitting in the whaler, the monotony was most trying. Seeking for rich cargoes is all very well when one is taking an active part in the search, but when it comes to sitting in an open boat all day, literally with arms folded, and not knowing what is taking place beneath you, the enforced idleness soon palls even on the most sanguine spirits.
Next day came the same round of comparative idleness, save for the divers, who laboured incessantly, and the men at the pumps.
Another trying day came, and then, just before sunset, we were startled by hearing a terrific shouting on the beach. Bringing glasses to bear on the spot, we found that the natives had rejected their idol, which was indeed the figurehead of the "San Philipo," and had dragged it down to the sea shore, believing it to belong to the white men. However that may be, there it lay in the sand. The pater there and then determined that he would carry it home with him. As with the treasure of the sunken ship, he felt he had a certain proprietary right in the "San Philipo" and all belonging to her.
"IDON'T like the look of it," remarked my father, lightly tapping the barometer with his little finger. "A rapid rise, then up and down like a see-saw, followed by a still more rapid fall."
"Twenty-eight point four five—a drop of one point five, two inches in fifteen hours," observed Dr. Conolly. "It certainly looks as if something is in the air, though everything appears favourable at present."
"We'll be on the safe side and take every possible precaution," rejoined my father. "We are protected by the reef, so it will be as well to remain here, rather than get to sea and meet a cyclone in the open."
This conversation occurred about a fortnight after the arrival of the figurehead of the "San Philipo." The figurehead, or idol, we found too large conveniently to stow away on board, so it was cut through just below the shoulders, and, relieved of its accumulated coats of paint, the art of the Spanish wood-carver stood revealed once more to the light of day.
The actual head and bust of the great figurehead we took on board, lashing it securely in the main saloon, although even its present bulk, being four feet in height and three feet across the widest part, seriously interfered with the space we had at our disposal. As for the natives, they were now quiet enough. The heavy losses they had sustained had for the time being, at least, crushed their spirits, and we were able, with due precautions, to land whenever we wished.
Although on this particular morning everything seemed peaceful and quiet, the erratic behaviour of the mercury gave us ample warning that some great atmospheric disturbance was about to take place. Work on the wreck was in consequence suspended, the boats were hoisted in and secured all deck fittings lashed down, and an additional anchor with the longest possible scope was laid out.
About eight bells (4 p.m.) a heavy swell set in from seaward, although there was no wind to cause it, and all along the reef the dull round waves broke into great masses of foam with a noise like thunder, while the "Fortuna" rolled sluggishly in the undulations within the lagoon.
The sun, surrounded by a misty halo, sank behind a cluster of high-banked clouds, giving out strange copper-coloured rays, while from seaward came a constant string of birds, intent upon gaining the shelter of the land; and all the while a strange brooding silence appeared to have taken possession of the air, save for the roar of the breakers on the reef and the lesser noise of the water tumbling on the beach.
Hardly had the sun set than a heavy rain beat straight down, rattling on the decks (for we had taken in the awnings) and making a strange phosphorescent light on the water; but still there was no sign of wind.
"When the rain's before the wind,Halliards, sheets, and braces bind."
"I wonder if that rhyme applies to this part of the globe?" remarked my uncle, as, clad in oilskins and sou'-westers, we stood' on deck, glad of the opportunity of being cooled by the downpour after weeks of tropic heat.
"We'll have it before long," said my father, looking towards the reef and trying to pierce the inky blackness. "And, in spite of the reef, we are on a lee shore.
"But not entirely open to the sea."
"No, but there'll be trouble if the anchors come home. By the by, did you stow away those blasting charges carefully?"
"I had them sent ashore and buried near the cave."
"That's good. I don't like the idea of having highly charged explosives on board in heavy electrical storms."
"Neither did I. Ha! What's that?"
Looking up, we saw a pale blue light flickering on our main-mast head, and for the moment I thought the vessel had taken fire.
"The air is full of electricity," said my father. "St. Elmo's Fires I think the sailors term the phenomenon. Reggie, run below out of the way. If you turn in before I see you again, turn in all standing, for you might be wanted on deck in a hurry."
I turned to obey, but just as I gained the companion the whole sky seemed one blaze of bluish light pierced by vivid flashes of lightning, which was immediately succeeded by a deafening peal of thunder that shook the yacht like a dried leaf in an October gale.
Even as I gained the cabin a furious blast struck the ship broadside on, and, staggering and pitching, she slewed round head to wind. The storm had broken.
Rolling, heaving, jumping short to her tautened cables, the "Fortuna" was fairly caught, and, down below, the sensation of being thrown about like a cork was almost worse than taking one's chances on deck. Reading was an utter impossibility, and all I could do was to wedge myself into my bunk, holding on when an extra heavy lurch threatened to hurl me across the cabin.
Just before midnight my father came below to swallow a hasty meal. The direction of the storm was, he told me, rapidly veering, for in these regions north of the Equator the gyration of these cyclones invariably takes place in one direction—from right to left, against the hands of a watch; while in the Southern Hemisphere the direction is reversed.
"We are on a weather shore at present," he added; "but before long we shall find ourselves on a lee shore, and the motion will be worse."
It was rather cold comfort, for already the pitching was more than I cared about.
At sunrise the wind was blowing dead on shore, and the mountainous breakers, sweeping over the reef, rolled with but slightly diminished force towards the land. The "Fortuna" was naturally head to wind, and riding in a totally opposite direction from that of the previous night, though, thanks to a massive swivel, she was free from the disadvantage of a "foul hawse."
To ease the strain on the cables the motor was started, and, alternately racing and biting as the propeller was lifted clear of the water or else submerged feet below the normal depth, the powerful little engine added its quota of noise to the howling of the elements.
For'ard everything was battened down, but the main companion hatch was left slightly open to admit fresh air to the cabin, and as sea after sea swept over our decks I could hear the ponderous blows of the masses of solid water as they flung themselves against the stout framework of the hatchway, on the lee side of which the watch on deck sheltered themselves as much as possible from the fury of the storm.
Slowly the hours passed; yet, although long after sunrise, the thick black clouds made the atmosphere so dark that it was impossible to see much farther than the length of the yacht, while flash after flash of lightning momentarily pierced the sombre gloom.
At the height of the storm the dreadful cry arose, "The anchors are coming home!" And this proved only too true, for our ground tackle was slowly dragging over the sandy bottom of the lagoon, and four hundred yards astern was the coral beach, on which the breakers would smash the "Fortuna" into matchwood in less than five minutes.
At the first alarm I rushed on deck, and, holding on like grim death to a belaying pin, I remained, washed by several successive seas, most of the crew doing likewise and grimly awaiting the end.
Suddenly there was a tremendous shock, as if the vessel had struck, and in the glare of a vivid flash we perceived that bearing down on us was a huge wave the like of which I had never seen before, and want never to see again. Fifty feet in height, the steep, unbroken mass rushed towards the "Fortuna," and, expecting her to be wrenched from her cables and buried beneath tons of green seas, we tightened our grip and gazed with feelings akin to panic on the approaching wave.
Above the roar of the oncoming water I heard my father shout, "Down below, all of you! It's our only chance!" and I was conscious of being dragged to the shelter of the companion, down which a scurrying stampede took place to gain a doubtful shelter.
The next instant the "Fortuna" seemed to literally stand upon end; we were all hurled, a struggling mass of humanity, against the after bulkhead, which to all intents and purposes became the floor. Then, after hours, as it seemed, of sickening suspense, during which we were in doubt as to whether the vessel still floated or was being borne down to the bottom of the lagoon, the "Fortuna" pitched forward till we were in danger of being thrown to the other end of the saloon, while on deck we could hear the ominous crash of broken wood and the sound of water pouring through the scuppers. Then, except for a slight roll, the yacht became as steady as if at anchor in a landlocked harbour.
With an exclamation of astonishment the bos'n dashed up the companion, and, without waiting to slide back the hatch, eeled himself through the narrow opening and gained the deck, the rest of us following closely.
A scene of confusion met our eyes. The mizzen-mast, broken off close to the deck, lay over our starboard quarter; part of the rail on the port bow was torn away, and the gig, wrenched from its strong lashings, was wedged against the fore side of the companion, with several of its planks stove in. But the cause of the bos'n's astonishment was the fact that right ahead of the "Fortuna," and less than two hundred yards away, was an enormous ledge of rock, some twenty to forty feet in height, stretching in front of us like a stone wall, its extremities lost in the semi-gloom, forming a natural breakwater.
Although the storm still raged furiously, and the showers of spray rose beyond the rock and fell like hissing rain right over us, the yacht lay under the lee of the newly formed barrier, fretting at her cables, which were now rubbing under her fore-foot.
"Stop the engine and have that wreckage cleared away," said my father. "We are safe enough for the present" and, with a sailor's instinct, the work of making things ship-shape was first taken in hand, before attempting to find out what act of Providence was responsible for our marvellous escape from being dashed to pieces on a lee shore.
The men set to work with a will. The broken mizzen-mast was cut clear and allowed to float at the end of a strong rope at a safe distance from our counter; the gig was secured, and things made ship-shape between decks, where the damage, though the confusion was indescribable, was confined to a few breakages of glass and china ware. Barely had the work of clearing up been completed than the storm ceased, almost as suddenly as it had begun, and the sun shone forth in a cloudless sky. We could now form some idea of what had occurred to turn the heaving waters of the lagoon into a sheltered harbour. Where but a few hours before had been a low coral reef, a long, irregular ledge of rock had been thrown up from the bed of the sea, and although its upper surface was composed of weed-covered stone and fragments of corals, its landward face was as fresh and clear as if cut by a gigantic chisel, and the highest part was where the entrance to the lagoon had been.
But the greatest surprise of all was that, wedged in an almost upright position, the weed-covered wreck of the "San Philipo" lay exposed to the light of day, after resting for nearly two centuries at the bottom of the sea. In spite of the clinging masses of weed the line of her double row of ports could be distinctly traced, while, owing to her slight list, we could see her sloping decks, built like a succession of broad steps rising from her waist. Her lofty stern, with its projecting galleries, was practically intact, and the only part that destroyed the graceful symmetry of her hull was for'ard, where the bows, torn by a long-standing injury, terminated in a tangle of broken planks and jagged timbers.
The crew looked with awestruck astonishment at this relic of the deep. It was as if they had been transported back to the beginning of the eighteenth century to see this antiquated object of naval architecture suddenly placed before their eyes; but my father looked upon the spectacle from a practical point of view. "It's saved us an awkward task," he remarked.
"What has?" I inquired.
"Reggie, my boy, you have seen what few of the inhabitants of the globe have seen before—the birth of an island. There has been a violent volcanic disturbance, and a portion of the submarine bed has been forced upwards, forming the mass of rock that you can see before you. Such instances are rare, but by no means unknown. That huge wave that all but overwhelmed the 'Fortuna' was caused by the sudden distortion of the earth's crust, which, generally speaking, is weakest along the western shore of the Pacific Ocean, though 'tis evident that the island is situated immediately above a centre of volcanic activity. It has been extremely fortunate for us, although, had the upheaval occurred but a few yards this way, it would have meant the death of us all."
"Do you think we shall have another shock?
"More than likely, though hardly so powerful. These seismic disturbances often occur in series, and it may be that the island will disappear as quickly as it came. However, we must take our chance, explore the wreck, and remove the treasure if it is to be found. Well, Mr. Wilkins?"
"Would you mind stepping for'ard, sir?"
The bos'n led the way to the fo'c'sle, and, looking over the bow, he showed us the cable, to which the yacht was riding easily.
"Well, what's wrong?" asked my father.
"Can you see below the swivel, sir?"
A further examination showed that one of the cables, composed of 3/4-in. galvanized chain, had parted just below the swivel, while the yacht now only rode to the second anchor.
"We'll send a diver after it directly the swell has gone down," said the bos'n. "And look astern, sir; it's been touch and go."
Within a cable's length a ridge of jagged, teeth-like rocks showed in the trough of each gentle undulation. A mass of rock had been recently fired up from the bed of the lagoon, for previously its floor was remarkably free from obstructions, so that, had the remaining cable parted, the "Fortuna" would have been dashed to pieces on this new danger, and her crew, even had they escaped from this peril, would have been ground by the remorseless breakers against the shore of the island.
Some idea of the violence of the cyclone could be gathered from the fact that the huge tidal wave had swept the beach and broken against the grove of coco-nut palms, for the trunks of the trees, some of which had been uprooted, were covered with trailing masses of seaweed and the remains of the islanders' canoes.
As I looked on the scene of desolation, the strewn beach and the rocky pinnacles astern of us, and thence on the protecting masses of our newly formed island, I realized more fully to what extent we owed our safety to Providence, and, like the bos'n, I could express the situation in no other words than that "it's been touch and go with all of us."
THERE was not much time for reflections; work, and pressing work too, had to be done. Under the bos'n's orders a party of men set about repairing the damaged gig and the broken rail, while on examination it was found that the broken mizzen-mast was practically unstrained beyond the actual fracture, so that, by cutting through and restepping the longest portion, a serviceable though somewhat stumpy mast would do duty until we could obtain a new spar at the nearest port. Three men under the orders of the quartermaster went off in the whaler to take soundings in the vicinity of the yacht's berth in order to become acquainted with the position of any fresh shoals or reefs; while the divers prepared to descend to try and recover the lost anchor and cable.
"I've just seen poor old Barnes," said Dr. Conolly, as he came on deck and joined us. "He's had a nasty time during the storm, and what I was afraid of has come about. He shows symptoms of blood-poisoning, and I must operate at once."
"Poor fellow! Poor fellow!" ejaculated my father. "I suppose he'll pull through?"
"He has a fighting chance, but you can rely upon me to do my very best. We must perform the operation on deck; so will you give orders for the awning to be rigged, and a screen placed athwart ship. We have plenty of fresh water, I think?"
"Yes, plenty. I'll have the awning rigged at once."
This news startled me, for when last I saw the wounded man he seemed on the fair road to recovery. But no time was to be lost. The awning was rigged, a rough table placed on the fo'c'sle, and a bucket of water, an array of surgical instruments (which the doctor had bought during our stay at Malta), and boxes of surgical dressing and linen completed the hasty preparations.
The divers were told to divest themselves of their diving-suits, and, after selecting three men to assist the doctor, my father ordered the rest away in the whaler, giving them instructions to sound carefully between the ledge of rocks and the shore, though this was merely an excuse to clear the ship during the actual operation.
Presently Barnes was brought on deck on a rough stretcher, the task of getting him through the fore-hatch proving one of great difficulty to the bearers and painful to the patient. They laid him on the table, and a nauseating smell that reminded me forcibly of old Dr. Trenoweth's surgery at Fowey seemed to fill the air.
"Clear out of this, Reggie!" said my Uncle Herbert peremptorily. "Go below and read a book, or do something. This is no place for you."
I went, but my thoughts were full of the poor sufferer lying on deck. Even the saloon reeked of the sickening odour, while through the open skylight I could hear every sound: the short, quick orders of the doctor, the splashing of the water, the convulsive movements of the insensible patient, the clatter of the instruments and even the sharp, rasping noise of the saw, and finally the distressing groans of the man as he recovered consciousness.
Then I heard the signal for the whaler, and presently the sound of the oars splashing alongside.
"Come along, my boy," exclaimed my father; "we are going off to the wreck." Gladly I left the cabin and got into the boat. Barnes still remained on deck, a bed being prepared for him under a square of canvas formed into a small tent. Dr. Conolly remained with his patient, but my father and uncle went in the whaler.
"There's a place where we can land, just on the other side of the wreck," said the bos'n; "but it's an awkward job."
This indeed it seemed, for the side of the newly made island was as steep and as smooth as polished rock, save for a few crevices and longitudinal cracks, so far apart as to be useless for climbing. A few strokes, however, brought us to the spot indicated by the bos'n, where the shattered bows of the "San Philipo" almost overhung the cliff. Here a flight of natural steps led up to within fifteen feet of the summit, but the whole of that fifteen feet was as smooth as a sheet of glass.
"Another fifty feet and the old hooker would have tumbled over the edge," observed the bos'n. "The whole place is one mass of ups and downs. Do you know, sir, that between the 'Fortuna' and the little reef astern of her—the new one, I mean—we found the bottom at a hundred fathoms, and between the reef and the shore, where there used to be from four to six fathoms, we found as much as sixty?"
"It's been a most tremendous upheaval," replied my father; "and I'm not surprised at anything after this. However, the question is: How are we to land?
"That's what I was thinking of, sir," replied Wilkins, knitting his brow. "How would bending the whaler's anchor on to a line and heaving it up do?"
"I am afraid that throwing up a twenty-four-pound anchor to a height of over twenty feet would be beyond the strength of most of us," observed my uncle, with a smile.
"Then heave the line over the wreck."
"The lead-line would not be strong enough to bear a man," objected my father. "The only thing to be done is to get a spar—the yard of our square-sail, for instance."
"A couple of young trees would do better, I'm thinking," said the bos'n. "We've plenty of lashing in the boat, and a ladder could be knocked up in a jiffey."
"The very thing, Mr. Wilkins. Make for the shore as fast as you can."
The whaler's bow grounded on the beach, and, making our way with difficulty through the debris that lined the seaward side of the grove, we selected a couple of young palm-trees. These were felled and cut to lengths of twenty feet, and the rungs firmly fastened, making a serviceable ladder. This we towed behind the boat, and on landing on the rock we scaled the perpendicular height with comparative ease.
The ladder was then hauled up and placed against the towering, weed-covered sides of the "San Philipo," and, led by my father, we all ascended and gained the deck of the wreck.
"Be careful, sir," cautioned the bos'n; "the deck may be rotten in places."
"All right, Mr. Wilkins," replied my father. "I see the divers have been hard at work, for the waist has practically been cleared."
But before attempting to go below, my father made his way aft, and, clambering cautiously over the successive breaks of the tiers of decks, reached the towering poop. Here the stump of the mizzen-mast still projected a couple of feet above the deck, while a litter of rotten rope trailed across the poop from the mizzen chains, and a rusty mass of iron alone remained to denote what had at one time been the three poop lanterns.
It was not, however, to this scene of desolation that my father's attention was directed. From the commanding position we had, for the first time, a complete view of the results of the upheaval, and to our consternation we found that the lagoon was converted into a land-locked sheet of water, huge rocks forming a massive semi-circular barrier from shore to shore. The "Fortuna" was a prisoner, and, to all intents and purposes, seemed doomed to lie within the lagoon till she rotted and sank at her moorings.
The original entrance had, as I have already mentioned, been closed up by lofty masses of rock, while throughout the whole length of the newly formed reef there was not, as far as we could see, any part less than twenty feet above the level of high water.
For several minutes my father stood looking at the scene with absolute dejection written on his face. It seemed as if all his hopes were shattered at one blow.
"Cheer up, old fellow," said his brother sympathetically, though he, too, was keenly alive to the extent of our misfortune. "It might be worse; we've got the yacht intact, the treasure under our feet, and, what is more, our lives have been miraculously preserved."
"Our lives, 'tis true. But what is the use of the treasure when the yacht is hopelessly imprisoned?"
"There's a saying, 'Don't holler till you're out of the wood'; it could have very well been added: 'Don't cry till you've tried to find a way out'; so don't worry till we've made a careful exploration of the reef. I suppose people at home have read a report in the daily papers before now, a telegram from Professor Milne to the effect that a great seismic disturbance has been recorded, the probable area affected being approximately eleven thousand miles away."
"Oh, yes," replied my father, with a slight suspicion of sarcasm. "Imagine the interest it causes to the majority of the British Public; but, so long as his pocket isn't touched, the average man doesn't care, even if half the surface of the globe is turned upside down; but let a cat or a dog scratch up his front garden——"
"Oh, for pity's sake stop moralizing. Let's make a start and explore the ship. See, the men have already nearly cleared away the mud from the main hatch."
Before long my father had shaken off his depression and was hard at work clearing the weed and sand. The hatches were forced open with crowbars, and we had our first view of the main deck. Considering the time the vessel had lain at the bottom of the sea, the amount of dirt and sand that had worked its way between decks was remarkably small; but on descending the ladder it seemed as if we were in a broad, low-roofed cave.
Through the gun-ports, now festooned with seaweed, the sunlight filtered, causing a thick, nauseating mist to rise from the sodden timbers; while on the starboard side was a tangled collection of timber and iron, the remains of the ship's ordnance, all the iron guns having been reduced to a softness resembling plumbago; but eight pieces of brass ordnance still retained their original appearance, save for the discoloration caused by the action of the salt water.
"Let's see what there is in the cabins aft," said Uncle Herbert, making for a half-open door; "I suppose no one brought a lantern?—it's pitch dark."
Even as he spoke the door creaked and moved slowly inwards, while a strange rustling noise was heard in the alley-way. Jumping backwards, my uncle raised an axe that he was carrying, and assumed a defensive attitude, while the rest of us, in breathless expectancy, awaited developments.
Again the shuffling noise was repeated, and out of the darkness projected a long, greenish hued, repulsive-looking object, terminating in a pair of formidable nippers, and in another moment a gigantic crab, fully five feet across its shell, shambled out of the gloom, turned partly over on its side to pass the doorway, and made straight for us.
"Call yourself a Cornishman, and afraid of a crab!" exclaimed my father as my uncle turned and ran for safety.
But it was not a cause for jest. One of the men stabbed at the creature with a crowbar, but, seizing the iron between its formidable claws, the monster wrenched it from the man's grasp, nearly throwing him to the deck. Another struck a heavy blow with an axe, but the steel seemed to have no effect upon the tough armour of the brute's shell, and it was clear that a man would stand little chance if caught by those powerful nippers.
"Hack off his legs!" shouted the bos'n, and, snatching an axe from one of the seamen, he put all his strength into a powerful cut at the creature's leg. The steel bit deeply into the member, but, before the bos'n could withdraw the axe, the crab spun round, swept the bos'n off his feet, and made for its prostrate antagonist, who, wedged against the ship's side, had no chance of escape. But before the hideous brute could accomplish its object, Lord, the quartermaster, made a bound, and alighted on its shell, and with his axe dealt two smashing blows at the creature's eyes. This interference caused the crab to swerve from its purpose, and, raising itself, threw the quartermaster to keep company with the bos'n.
Taking advantage of the raised position of the brute, my father fired three shots in quick succession from his revolver straight into its head, and, having had more than it cared about, the crab retreated for its den, but, before it reached the doorway, it stopped, gave a few convulsive struggles, and fell dead, a thin stream of pale-coloured blood trickling over the slimy decks into the debris on the lee side.
"Hot work while it lasted," remarked my father, ejecting the three empty cylinders and reloading his revolver. "Move the thing out of the way, and let's explore the cabins. I hope there are no more of that sort, though."
One of the men had returned with a lantern from the whaler, and by its aid we began our tour of the cabins and state-rooms. There were multitudes of crabs, large and small, though none approaching in size the one we had killed; several small cuttlefish squirmed in the mud that was ankle-deep on the floors; while overhead the mouldering beams were alive with immense worms, gliding in and out of the innumerable tunnels they had eaten in the timbers.
Most of the cabin doors were locked, but so rotten was the woodwork that a kick was sufficient to demolish them. The first five or six were practically empty, though one contained a number of brass-hilted swords, all in a more or less rust-eaten condition. At length we came to one over which were the letters "...apitan."
"This ought to contain something worth having, being the captain's," remarked my uncle, bursting open the door. Compared with the rest of the cabins this apartment was large and well-lighted, the stern window being fairly free from the trailing weeds.
Rotting curtains still hung from the walls; furniture that for nearly two centuries had floated against the once-gilded ceiling had fallen in utter confusion on the mud-covered floor, while there was the usual scurrying of swarms of shell-fish, as they sought shelter in the darker recesses of the room. In the centre stood two massive chests, bound with iron, and to these my father hastened, ignoring the crabs that impeded his footsteps.
"Hurry up with the crowbar!" he exclaimed excitedly, and, inserting the iron bar underneath the lid, he put his whole strength into the task of prizing open one of the chests.
With all his powerful efforts the lid defied him, and, calling the bos'n to his aid, both of them bent to the stout lever. The wood creaked and groaned, yet neither did the chest move nor did the lid fly open.
"There's weight in it!" exclaimed the bos'n, wiping his heated brow. "If we are not careful the whole box of tricks will fall through into the hold."
"Yes, we must look out for that," replied my father; "already the floor seems to be giving."
"More than the lid does, I'm thinking," assented the bos'n. "We must try what a sledge-hammer and wedges will do." This meant sending back to the "Fortuna"; so, while the whaler was away, we continued our exploration of the cabin. There were three silver images, blackened by sea-water, several gold and silver-mounted sword-hilts, a drawer full of gold coins, bearing dates between 1590 and 1701, tankards and plates of precious metal, and several securely sealed bottles, containing, as we afterwards found, wine.
"Ah! now we can tackle the chests," exclaimed Uncle Herbert, as the men returned with a sledge-hammer and a regular armoury of cold chisels. "This one first."
A few heavy blows and the lid flew open; then, by the aid of the crowbar, the work was completed, and the lid went back with a loud creaking sound. The chest was filled to the brim with small bars of solid gold.
"Hurrah, my lads!" shouted my father in his excitement. "This alone will repay us. You can take it from me that once we get this safely home, every man of the crew will be able to live in comfort till the end of his days."
A rousing cheer greeted this announcement; then, closing the lid, my father directed the men to burst open the other chest.
This we found to contain mostly silk-stuffs, all, of course, utterly spoiled by age and sea-water; but at the bottom was a complete set of Church plate, made of gold and blazing with precious stones.
"Some cathedral in Spain is the poorer by this," remarked Uncle Herbert, holding up a massive chalice to the glassless stern window and allowing the light to play on the dazzling stones. "What do you propose to do, Howard? I don't think we can rest at ease till the whole of this stuff is safely aboard the 'Fortuna.'"
"Neither can we. We'll explore the hold now, and directly afterwards we'll begin to tranship the contents of the chests."
"We must lose no time, then, for it will take the rest of the day."
A hasty examination of the hold showed us that the silver cargo of the "San Philipo" was no myth; the ballast was composed of solid silver "pigs."
"We'll return to the 'Fortuna' now," decided my father. "You, Herbert, had better superintend the shifting of the contents of the chests. Tomorrow, if all's well, we'll tackle the silver, and, if the gig's repaired, four men and the bos'n can explore the reef."