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"Then all we have to do is to go there and dig and we'll find the treasure," Charley declared. "But we must wait for the captain, we must all be present when it is unearthed."
The morning slipped away quickly, the boys amusing themselves by exploring their little island, fis.h.i.+ng from the bank, and loafing in the shade of the solitary palm, at whose base was supposed to lie the buried treasure.
Dinner time came and the meal was eaten without the captain, who had not returned. As the afternoon wore away without any sign of the old sailor, the boys began to feel a vague uneasiness which increased as the sun set and night began to fall. Walter, who alone knew the real object of the captain's trip, was greatly worried. Long after the others had retired to the wigwam for the night, he sat alone straining eye and ear for sight or sound that would herald the absent one's return. As the night wore away, anxiety deepened into certainty with the troubled lad. Something must have happened to the captain.
Impatiently the lad waited for daylight, determined to set off at the first break of dawn in search of the missing one. Suddenly, the lad started up from the reclining position weariness had caused him to a.s.sume. Full and deep upon the still night air rang out the tolling of the mysterious bell. To the anxious watcher, its tones no longer rang full and sweet as upon the previous evening, but sounded slow and threatening, as if freighted with an ominous meaning.
A step sounded behind him and the overwrought lad sprang to his feet, every nerve a-tingle.
"Where are you, Walt?" called Charley's voice from out of the darkness.
"Here," answered Walter, with a sigh of relief.
"The captain not here yet?" asked his chum, fearfully, as he found his way to his side.
"No," said Walter sadly, "and I am sure something must have happened to him. I am off to search for him as soon as it's light enough to see."
"And I am going with you," Charley declared.
"You are not," said his chum, decidedly. "You are too weak for such a trip yet. You would only make my task harder. You have no business even to be out in this night air and dew. It may bring your fever back on you."
"I could not rest inside when I saw your bed and the captain's empty and heard the tolling in the air."
"What do you suppose it really is, Charley?" asked his chum, eagerly.
"It cannot be produced by anything human. Remember the captain's saying that it had been tolling this way longer than the oldest Indian could remember back."
"It's a bell," declared his chum, a trifle uneasily. "Nothing else could produce those tones and that regular tolling."
"Charley," and Walter's voice lowered with the horror of the thought, "the captain said it tolled all night when the chief died, and now the captain himself is gone and the awful thing goes on as though it would never stop."
Charley, with an effort shook off the feeling of dread that was fast stealing over him.
"Nonsense," he said, cheerfully, "you are getting as bad as Chris and the captain. I repeat, it is a bell: listen how regularly it tolls."
As though in mockery at his words, the long, even reverberations changed to a quick, harsh, discordant clatter and suddenly ceased.
For awhile both boys sat silent, Walter striving to overcome the superst.i.tious dread tugging at his heart, and Charley searching his active brain for some explanation of the mysterious sound, that would harmonize with common sense and reason.
At last Walter, by sheer will, regained his mental balance. "I am tired and nervous, or I would never imagine such foolish things," he said. "Of course it is as you say, produced by natural causes, and I will likely laugh at my fears as soon as we stumble on the key to the mystery. And now I am going to insist upon your going back inside, Charley. It won't do for us to have you down with the fever again.
For our sakes, as well as your own, you must be very careful."
Reluctantly, Charley retired to the wigwam and Walter once more was left alone.
With the first hint of gray in the east, he began to prepare for his departure. What cooked food was on hand he stored in the bow of the canoe, and casting off the painter took his seat in the stern. Then he paused for one last look around before dipping his paddle.
Away in the distance a moving speck on the water caught his eye. For a few minutes he watched it in suspense, then gave a cheer of delight.
It was the captain's canoe.
CHAPTER XXII.
DISAPPOINTMENT.
As the speck drew nearer all doubt vanished, it was the captain's canoe with the old sailor himself in the stern paddling with slow, weary strokes.
Walter's cheer had brought forth his companions from the wigwam, and all now gathered on the bank to welcome the wanderer.
Slowly the canoe drew in to the sh.o.r.e, and Walter at last was able to catch the painter and haul the light craft's bow up on the sand. Its occupant sat still in the stern unable to move. His clothes were stained and tattered, his hands torn and bleeding from many scratches, and his pale, haggard face told of hards.h.i.+p and suffering.
"Don't look scairt, lads," he called out cheerily, "I ain't hurt none; jes' scratched up a bit, an' powerful tired. I reckon you'll have to give me a hand to get me out. I'm cramped that bad I can't move a leg."
Walter and Chris flew to the old sailor's help and between them a.s.sisted him out of the canoe and up into the wigwam. Then Chris quickly kindled a fire and soon presented the weary man with a gourd of steaming coffee and the cold food which Walter hastened to bring from the canoe.
The captain ate like one famished, while the boys stood around eager to hear his story.
"I'll spin my yarn as soon as I've rested a hit, lads," he said, as he finished the last morsel of food. "I'm clean spent, now, and want to stretch out for a while."
The boys helped him up and onto his bed, which he had no sooner touched than he was fast asleep.
It was noon before the old sailor awoke to find a hot dinner ready and the boys patiently waiting. He was surprised to find that his stiffness had nearly all disappeared, and, except for the cuts on hands and face, he was as well as ever again.
"My, this grub tastes good," he exclaimed, attacking the smoking fish and yams. "I didn't have a bite to eat all day yesterday. But I reckon I had better start at the beginning of my yarn. I reckon you boys are some curious how I happened to turn up again in such shape.
Wall, after I left here I paddled on, till I came to that fringe of cypress right opposite where the smoke was curling up. When I got that far I got mighty careful, an' the way I coaxed that little craft in between them cypresses was so quiet that I didn't even wake up the water moccasins asleep on the roots. When I came near the outer edge of the cypress, I fastened the canoe to a root and crept forward on hands an' feet from one cypress tussock to another, sorter calculatin'
that I'd make less noise that way than in the boat. At last, I got where I could glimpse out between the trees and get a view of the fire.
There was the whole twelve of them rascals workin' away as hard as honest men. I watched them quite a while afore I caught on to what they was doing, an', when I found out, it didn't make me feel any easier. Lads, they was hollowing out the biggest dugout you ever seed.
They had got a giant of a cypress chopped down, hewed it sharp at both ends and were burning it out inside with fire. While I was watchin', that varmint of an Injin, Charley, left the gang an' struck into the cypress an' pa.s.sed by so close to where I was hid that I was sartin sure he'd see me, but he didn't. I lay still there for hours, afeard to move for fear I'd meet him comin' back. It was most sundown when he returned, and I stayed on quite a bit after that listenin' to the conversation. As I guessed, he had been out scouting an' had found out that we were on the island an' that his tribe was too far away to interfere with any plans he had in his head. Cute as he was, though, he hadn't learned that the old chief was dead and the young one gone for help. When I had learned all I could, I crawled back to the canoe and struck out for the island. It was being cramped up so long in one position in the cypress and in the canoe, that made me so stiff and sore."
"They surely can't be so reckless as to think of entering this swamp!"
exclaimed Charley.
"'Tain't so very reckless, the way they look at it," observed the captain. "You see they think that the Indians are all far off an'
ain't likely to come back for some weeks. When the redskins started on their hunt they left plenty of signs behind to tell where they had gone, and them signs are plainer than print to Injin Charley. Now, them fellows figures they can drop down on this island, kill off all hands but the chief, an' torture him 'till he gives up the plumes he's counted on havin', an' be off, an' safe out of reach afore the Seminoles return from their hunt. No, it ain't such a foolish sort of undertaking after all."
"How long will it take them to finish the canoe?" Walter inquired.
"I calculate it will take at least three days more," said the captain, reflectively. "You see, the cypress is green an' burns pretty slowly."
"Three days," mused Charley, "and it will be at least a week before help can come. We have got to count on meeting this danger by ourselves."
"I don't see nothin' to do but push on into the swamp," said the captain disconsolately. "They outnumber us three to one. An' this island ain't got no shelter for us to find cover behind."
"Let's not worry about it now," urged Walter cheerfully. "The captain says it will be three days at least before the canoe is finished so we have plenty of time. If we decide to leave the island, we can easily keep ahead of a clumsy dugout in our light canoes."
"I am of Walter's opinion," agreed Charley. "Something may turn up in the next two days, and, anyway, there are some things I want to investigate before I vote to leave this neighborhood. I can promise you one thing, captain, those fellows will never handle the plumes that belonged to the chief."
The captain listened in admiring astonishment as Charley recounted his solution of the chief's legacy. "We have been wild to dig for the treasure," Charley concluded, "but we would not touch a spadeful of earth until you could be with us to share in the excitement."