The Island Treasure Part 12

No, he did not utter a single harsh word.

"Steady thaar!" was all he called out; "kip her full an' by, an' steer ez naar north ez ye ken!"

This was about the beginning of July, and we had from then bright weather, with westerly and nor'-west winds all the way up the Pacific, past the island of Juan Fernandez, which we saw like a haze of green in the distance.

After this, making to cross the Equator for the second time--our first time being in the Atlantic Doldrums--somewhere between the meridians 100 degrees to 102 degrees, we proceeded on steadily northward, picking up the south-east trade-winds in about lat.i.tude 20 degrees South, when nearly opposite Arica on the chart, although, of course, out of sight of land, being more than a couple of hundred leagues away from the nearest part of the coast.

In about twenty days' time we got near the Equator, when we met with variable winds and calms, while a strong indraught sucked us out of our course into the Bay of Panama.

The temperature just then grew very hot, and the captain, taking to drinking again, soon recovered his spirits and his temper, which had latterly grown so smooth and equable that we hardly knew him for the same man.

In a short s.p.a.ce, however, the rum fully restored him to his old quarrelsome self, and he and the first-mate, Mr Flinders, had an awful row one night, when the skipper threatened to send the mate forward and promote Jan Steenbock in his place. Captain Snaggs had never forgiven him for the cowardice and want of sailorly instinct he displayed at the time of the alarm of fire in the forepeak; and the fact also of Mr Flinders having lain for two days drunk in his bunk after their jollification on rounding Cape Horn, did not tend to impress the skipper any the more strongly in his favour.

I remember the evening well.

It was on the 28th July.

We were becalmed, I recollect; but, in spite of this, a strong set of tide, or some unknown current, was carrying us, in a west-nor'-west direction, away out of the Bay of Panama, at the mouth of which we had been rolling and roasting in the broiling tropical sun for a couple of days, without apparently advancing an inch on our way northwards towards San Francisco, our destination, which we were now comparatively near, so to speak, but still separated by a broad belt of lat.i.tude of between eighteen hundred and two thousand miles--a goodish stretch of water!

I also remember well that Captain Snaggs roared so loudly to the mate and the mate back to him during their altercation in the cuddy that we on deck could hear every word they said; for, the night was hot and close, with never a breath of wind stirring, and the air had that oppressive and sulphurous feel which it always has when there is thunder about or some great atmospherical change impending.

The skipper and Mr Flinders were arguing about the s.h.i.+p's course, the former declaring it to be right, and the latter as vehemently to be altogether wrong.

The mate, so opposite were their opinions, said that if we sailed on much longer in the same direction towards which the s.h.i.+p had been heading before being becalmed, she would be landed high and dry ash.o.r.e at Guayaquil; while the skipper, as strongly, protested that we were already considerably to the northward of the Galapagos Islands.

"Ye're a durned fule, an' a thunderin' pig-headed fule ez well," we heard the captain say to the other, as he came up the companion, roaring back behind him; "but, jest to show ye how thunderin' big a fule ye air, I'll jest let ye hev y'r own way--though, mind ye, if the s.h.i.+p comes to grief, ye'll hev to bear all the muss."

"I don't mind thet, nary a red cent," boasted the other in his sneering way. "Guess I've a big enuff pile to hum, out Chicago way, to buy up s.h.i.+p an' cargy ez well!"

"Guess ye shall hev y'r way, bo!" then yelled out the skipper, calling at the same time to the helmsman to ease the helm off, as well as to the watch to brace round the yards; and the light land breeze, just then coming off from sh.o.r.e, made the _Denver City_ head off at right angles to her previous course, the wash of water swis.h.i.+ng pleasantly past her bows, as her sails bellied out for a brief spell.

But, not for long.

Within the next half-hour or so the heavens, which had previously been bright with myriads of stars overhead, became obscured with a thick darkness, while the slight land breeze slowly died away.

Then, a hoa.r.s.e, rumbling sound was heard under the sea, and the s.h.i.+p was violently heaved up and down in a sort of quick, violent rocking motion, unlike any thing I had ever felt, even in the heaviest storm.

"An airthquake, I guess," said Captain Snaggs, nonchalantly; "thet is, if thaar's sich a thing ez an airthquake at sea!"

He sn.i.g.g.e.red over this joke; but, just then, I heard the same strange, weird music, like Sam's banjo, played gently in the distance, similarly to what we heard before the burst of the storm off Cape Horn.

"Lord, save us!" cried the captain, in hoa.r.s.e accents of terror. "Thaar it air agen!"

Even as he spoke, however, the s.h.i.+p seemed to be lifted aloft on a huge rolling wave, that came up astern of us without breaking; and, then, after being carried forwards with wonderful swiftness, she was hurled bodily on the sh.o.r.e of some unknown land near, whose outlines we could not distinguish through the impenetrable darkness that now surrounded us like a veil.

We knew we were ash.o.r.e, however, for we could feel a harsh, grating noise under the vessel's keel.

Still, beyond and above this noise, I seemed yet to hear the wild, sad chaunt that haunted us.

There was a light hung in the galley, and I looked in again to see if the negro's banjo was in its accustomed place, so as to judge whether the sound was due to my imagination or not.

Holding up the lantern, I flashed its light across the roof of the galley.

I could hardly believe my eyes.

Sam's banjo was no longer there!

CHAPTER TEN.

ABINGDON ISLAND.

After the first grating, grinding shock of going ash.o.r.e, the s.h.i.+p did not b.u.mp again; but, listing over to port, she settled down quietly, soon working a sort of cradle bed for herself in the sand at the spot where she stranded.

This, at least, was our conclusion, from the absence of any subsequent motion or movement on board, the deck being as steady now as any platform on dry land, although rather downhill on one side, from the vessel heeling as she took the ground.

However, it was all guess work, as we could see nothing, not even our own faces, save when brought immediately under the light of the galley lantern, around which all the hands forward were closely huddled together, like a drove of frightened sheep; for, the darkness could be almost felt, as it hung over the ill-fated _Denver City_, a thick, impenetrable, black pall, that seemed ominous of evil and further disaster.

This continued for nearly an hour; the men near me only speaking in hushed whispers, as if afraid of hearing their own voices.

The fact of not being able to see any fresh peril or danger that might be impending over us, and so face it manfully, in the manner customary with sailor-folk with any grit in them, took away the last lingering remnant of courage even of the bravest amongst us; and I'm confident there was not a single foremast hand there of the lot grouped by the galley and under the break of the fo'c's'le, not excepting either Tom Bullover or the American sailor, Hiram, plucky as both were in ordinary circ.u.mstances, but was as panic-stricken, could their inmost feelings be disclosed and the truth out-told, as myself--although I was too dazed with terror to think of this then.

And so we remained, awaiting we knew not what, coming from we knew not where, in terrible uncertainty and dread expectancy.

Anything might happen now, we thought, still more awful than what had already occurred; for the gloomy stillness and mysterious mantle of darkness that had descended on us increased our fears and suggested every weird possibility, until the prolonged suspense became well-nigh maddening.

"I'm durned if I ken stand this much longer," I heard Hiram whisper hoa.r.s.ely, as if uttering his thoughts aloud, for he addressed no one in particular. "Guess I'll jump overboard an' drown myself, fur the devil's in the shep, an' thaar's a cuss hangin' over her!"

A shuffling sound of feet moving on the deck followed, as if the poor, distraught fellow was about to carry his senseless and wicked design into execution; and then I caught the tones of Tom Bullover's voice also coming out from amidst the surrounding gloom.

"Hush, avast there!" cried the latter solemnly. "Is this a time for running in the face of your Maker, when in another minute or two we may all be mustered afore Him in eternity? Besides, bo, what's the use o'

jumping overboard, when you couldn't get drownded? for the s.h.i.+p's hard and fast ash.o.r.e!"

Before Hiram could reply to this, or make any further movement, a shout rang out from the p.o.o.p aft, where previously all had been as still as with us forwards, wrapped in the same impenetrable darkness and deathly silence.

I recognised Jan Steenbock at once as the person hailing us.

"Land, ho!" he exclaimed; "I sees him! It vas lighten oop, and I sees him on ze port bow!"

As the second-mate spoke, there was a perceptible movement of the heavy, close atmosphere, which had hitherto been still and sultry, like what it generally is during a thunderstorm, or when some electrical disturbance is impending in the air. Then, the land breeze sprang up again, the wind, first coming in little puffs and subsequently settling down into a steady breeze off sh.o.r.e, and the heavy curtain of black vapour that had previously enveloped us began to drift away to leeward, enabling us after a bit to see the s.h.i.+p's position and our surroundings--albeit all was yet wrapped in the semi-darkness of night, as it was close on eleven o'clock.

The frowning outlines of a big mountain towered up above the vessel's masts on our left or port bow, hazy and dark and grim, and on the starboard hand a jutting point of land, evidently a spur of the same cliff, projected past the _Denver City_ a long way astern, for we could distinguish the white wash of the sea on the sand at its base; while, right in front, nearly touching our bowsprit, was a ma.s.s of trees, whose dusky skeleton branches were waved to and fro by the tropical night breeze, making them appear as if alive, their mournful whis.h.i.+ng as they swayed bearing out this impression.

It seemed, at first glance, that the s.h.i.+p had been driven ash.o.r.e into a small land-locked bay, no outlet being to be seen save the narrow opening between the cliffs astern through which she had been carried by the wave that stranded us--fortunately, without das.h.i.+ng us on the rocks on either hand.

As we gazed around in startled wonder, striving to take in all the details of the strange scene, the misty, brooding vapour lifted still further, and a patch of sky cleared overhead. Through this opening the pale moon shone down, illuminating the landscape with her sickly green light; but she also threw such deep shadows that everything looked weird and unreal, the perspective being dwarfed here and magnified there to so great an extent that the s.h.i.+p's masts appeared to touch the stars, while the men on the fo'c's'le were transformed into giants, their forms being for the moment out of all proportion to their natural size, as they craned their necks over the head rail.

Jan Steenbock's voice from the p.o.o.p at this juncture recalled my wandering and wondering imagination to the more prosaic and practical realities of our situation, which quickly put to flight the ghostly fancies that had previously crowded thick and fast on my mind.