Part 42 (2/2)
CHAPTER x.x.x
THE CACHE ON THE ISLE
Julian was much relieved, but Rufe was overjoyed to see us.
”De Lord o' ma.s.sy!” he began, ”but I's glad to see you-all! Whah you been all dis heah time? I jes' been a-telling Jul'en, boy, dat shu'ah dem voodoo n.i.g.g.ahs got ye. I hopes, now, you-all is gwine to gib up dat ol' gold-huntin'.”
”Give up!” said Ray. ”Say, Rufe, did you ever think Norris would ever give up anything? Why----”
”Look here, Rufe,” broke in Norris thrusting a pretty nugget under the cook's nose. ”Does that look like giving up gold-hunting?”
Rufe's eyes bulged. ”Is dat sho' 'nuff gold?” he queried.
And then we began with our story. And Rufe must have us over by the galley door to continue the tale, while he hurried dinner, for he said, ”I jes' knows you-all is nigh about starved out.”
The black sailors were squatted in a circle, up near the bows, when we came aboard, and dice rattled on the deck, with snaps of fingers and sharp orders spoken to the bones for their better performance. Julian said it was the dice kept them contented, day after day and they were at the game continuously.
During the meal our plans for the following days came to a head. It was the purpose to sail the _Pearl_ round to and through the tortuous channel into Crow Bay. The schooner would go out from the cove under the land breeze, sometime between nine o'clock at night and morning, and the trade wind--from the northeast--would take her into Crow Bay the next day. Three of us would row in the little boat, down the bay to that isle, to see that the coast should be clear. The afternoon was not idle, for Norris was full of preparation for the reception of all that treasure--gold-dust; and there must be bins made in the schooner's hold, for, ”we'll have to dump some of it in, like grain,” he said. ”We haven't time to build chests for it all.” And then Robert and I were tired of the stain on our skins, and must have it off.
Before night spread over the region, Norris, with his big rifle, and Robert and I with our little ones, were in the skiff, moving slowly out on Crow Bay. There was no sign of a boat on the bay yet.
”I guess they got scared out,” said Norris, ”and are still lying in some cove, waiting for word from Duran.”
In these tropics you sweep the bright daylight landscape with your eyes, noting the graceful palms bowing to you over the beach; then you close your eyes, count a few hundred slowly, open them again, and--presto! all is black night, and the palms have melted into eternity, or are dimly silhouetted against the night sky. The narrow crescent of the new moon was among the tops of the palms behind us.
Within the hour, we made landing on the isle. We dragged our boat up into the brush, and then moved back through the wood to the edge of the clearing. A light shone in the window of the hut. We crept up and looked in. That same portly black was there, and he was in the midst of preparations to turn into his bunk. In another minute he put out the light.
We decided to go round the island beach for signs of any recent landing parties. We found the boat, used by the black of the cabin, in its usual place. Then we took to the beach, and with the occasional use of our battery lamps, we examined the sand floor as we went. We completed the circuit, seeing nothing to our interest. And then Norris was for at once going into that thicket where Robert and Carlos had witnessed the going in and out of Duran and that mysterious, naked black.
Robert led the way, which took us into the clearing to the north of the cabin. In a little, we had found a winding way, cut into the thicket. In the center of that jungle we came into a s.p.a.ce having the dimensions of a small room. The floor was level--of sand. We threw our light around.
”Not a sign of anything here,” declared Norris.
But Robert had another word to say. ”Here it is!” he cried. And we joined him, where he was stamping with his foot. There was a sound--or feel--as we came down with our heels, of something hollow beneath.
We sc.r.a.ped the sand away with our hands, making a hole less than a foot in depth; and came upon something made of boards.
”So far, so good,” said Norris. ”The stuff is there without much doubt.
We have nothing more to do, now, but wait till the _Pearl_ gets here, tomorrow.”
When we settled down beside our boat, close to the south beach, the night breeze was rustling the dry palm fans above our heads; the ripples broke on the beach with a soft playful sound.
”I guess Captain Marat will be getting sail on the schooner, now,” I observed.
”I wish this same wind would get him here tonight,” complained Norris.
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