Part 17 (2/2)
”'Wal, pard?' and Hake Stevens, without another word, rose up and stood before me.
”I saw at a glance that he was in rags, and that about the third of one stockingless foot was protruding in an easy manner from his boot; the other boot seemed more or less wearable. Stevens had a habit of walking with a lurch to his left--heeling over to port, as it were--which accounted for the fact I observed.
”'Why,' I said, putting my hand on his shoulder, 'how has it come to this? Why didn't you come to me?'
”'Have you got a smoke?' he asked.
”For answer I handed him my baccy pouch, and he loaded an old pipe.
”'Light-o!'
”I struck a vesta, and handed it to him. By the flare of it I could see him very white and starved.
”'Now,' I added, 'you come straight home with me.'
”'Guess ez haow I was making tracks thar, when I broke down, an' had to heave to. I hev found it this time. See hyar.'
”'First come home with me, and then you can tell me all about it. I won't hear a word till you've had something to eat and a rest.'
”It was only a few minutes' walk to my rooms; but I had to half carry Stevens there. Those were the days when cabs were unknown, remember.
As soon as we arrived, I told my boy to raise supper; and in the meantime Stevens had a stiff whiskey, a bath, and changed into some of my things. He looked a figure of fun as he came out, with about a yard of lean leg and leaner arm sticking out of the things I'd given him.
But, Lord! you should have seen him wolf the cold meat and pickles!
When he'd done, I was for just marching him straight to bed. But, no: he was determined to tell me his story; so I let him run his course.
”'Pard,' he said, 'when I busted the caboodle that night, an' left you, I said to myself: ”Hake Stevens, you chowder-headed clam, you jest make this level; you've done an all-fired foolish thing, an' now you've got ter eat yer leek.” The next mornin' I gave you another try, but you wouldn't rise to it; so I went off an' took a pa.s.sage to Henzada. It was all in the low countries that Brito was, an' I determined to work the thing in square--work every inch of it, ef it took me a hundred years, until I found thet creek with the images. I got to Henzada in a rice boat; then I pulled out my map, marked my square, an' set to work. I bought a paddle canoe, an' blazed every creek I went up. I made up my mind ez I should work down'erds from Henzada, ez thet was the furthest point old Brito struck. I calc'lated thet ef he was hard pressed, an' the Burmee squint-eyes were gettin'
the jamb on him, he would lay fur to hide his greenbacks ez far from his usual bars ez possible. Wal, I worked those creeks up an' down, night an' day, gettin' what I could out of the villagers on payment, an' when the dollars ran out, got it without payment. Snakes! How the squitters fed on me! An' I was a'most so starved thet, ef I could on'y hev managed it, I'd hev fed on them like a fish, an' got some of myself back agen. Wal, it woke snakes when they found I swooped down on their c.o.kynut plantations, and one thing and another; but a freeborn American ain't goin' fur to starve when these hyar yeller Burmans gits their bellies full. The local sheriff and his posse turned out, an' thar was a vigilance committee behind every tree.
Shootin' was not in my line, unless forced to; so I skedaddled, an'
they after me. It was a tight race, an' I was so weak I felt I could hardly hold out; so I thought I'd better take to land. I shot the canoe under some branches, an', to my surprise, found they overhung an' concealed a small pa.s.sage, hardly wide enough for two canoes abreast. Up this I went: it was easier goin' than walkin' through the thorns. After about four hours of shovin' through slime, it widened out; an' then, turnin' a great clump of bamboos, I swung round to my right--an' what do you think I saw?'
”He stretched his hand out to me, and the grey of his eyes seemed absolutely to whiten. ”'Ez I live, I saw the six big images all in a row, each one bigger than the other; an' they war smilin' across the creek, as they smiled when Brito buried his treasure thar, an' G.o.d knows how many years before. I ran the boat ash.o.r.e, jumped off, an'
patted the big idol's knee--couldn't reach further up; an' then I came back to find you. The gold lies thar, pard, an' we are made men: it's thar, I say. Come back with me; share an' share alike--hands on it.'
”His voice cracked as he brought his story to this abrupt close; and I said nothing, but shook his outstretched hand.
”'When can we start?' he asked.
”'You must pull yourself together a bit, Stevens, before we do anything of the kind.'
”Then I told him briefly how I was a free man, and able to go where I listed; and that, as I could combine my first essay in orchid-hunting with the search for Brito's treasure, I didn't care how soon I went.
But it could not be until Stevens was better able to travel, as the rains were coming on, and further exposure might mean death to him.
”'And now,' I said, 'you'd better turn in and have a snooze. I'm a bit sleepy myself.'
”With that he got up and shambled off to bed. The next morning he was in a high fever, and it was some time before he was right again. At length he said he was once more fit 'to fight his weight in wild cats.' He wasn't by any means that: he was still weak, and not able to face any great hards.h.i.+p; but enforced idleness was sending the man mad, and I thought we'd better make a start. I did not mean to go in for any particular roughing it. It was only subsequently that I learned what sort of music an orchid-hunter has to face.”
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