A MARCH TO THE COAST.
I was in the open air. Of course I knew that at once.
There was very little delay. Another whispered conference, and we moved
on again. The ground was now broken and rough, and from the woodland
scents which were wafted to my nostrils I came to the conclusion that
we were in the depths of one of the Cuban forests. Occasionally, too, I
stumbled, in spite of my guards’ precautions, over rocks and tree-roots.
No one spoke. The route was one evidently well known to the chief and
his myrmidons, for they seemed to me to glide on unerringly. At times
we climbed the sides of low hills, but as a rule we followed a downward
gradient. I felt sure that there was no path, and that we were simply
striking a bee-line across country. As there was no moon, some of the
men carried torches. Judging from the smell, I should say they were
made of some resinous wood.
It occurred to me that our captors were running a great risk in thus
marching across country by the light of torches; but I concluded that
they knew their own business best.
One thing was certain—the affair was a very urgent one.
There was a mystery about the whole business which puzzled me much. To
unravel it seemed impossible.
I cannot tell how far we travelled on this dreary journey, but I think
a couple of hours or so must have elapsed when I was astonished to hear
the distant sound of waves breaking upon a rocky shore.
We were approaching the sea.
My mind immediately became filled with gloomy forebodings, for I
conjectured that our captors were about to embark in some vessel and
take us away from the island of Cuba altogether.
This was a terrible thought, and one that in my most dejected hour had
never occurred to me. All trace of us might be lost if once we were
forcibly removed from Spanish soil. And whither were these villains
going to take us?
Whilst I was oppressed with these sombre thoughts, a little incident
occurred which cheered me somewhat. The bandage which was around my
eyes had slipped a little, and I was enabled to see to a certain extent
what was going on around me. It was very dark, but the flare of the
torches enabled me to see objects close at hand. As far as I could
tell, we had just emerged from the forest, and were now following a
stony track leading down to the sea-coast. The latter was not visible
in the intense gloom that prevailed; but every moment the roar of the
waves became more distinctly audible, and the briny breath of the ocean
came sweeping up on the wings of the night breeze.
At the head of the party, I could just discern the chief, who was
evidently acting as guide; and I could also see the gunner and Ned
Burton, who were only a few paces in front of me. My coxswain, I
thought, seemed to walk with some difficulty, and I attributed this to
the effects of the flogging he had received.
In about ten minutes’ time we were near enough to the sea to enable
me to make out the white surf of the breakers as they dashed on some
outlying rocks that seemed to act as a natural breakwater to the little
bay we were approaching. The booming noise of the waves breaking upon
the beach was mild compared to the roar caused by this buffeting of
the great boulders. The storm clouds we had observed in the sky during
the afternoon had all vanished, and the celestial star-gems, flashing
and twinkling, shone down brilliantly from their setting of dark _lapis
lazuli_. Not a vapour obscured the clear radiance of heaven’s vaulted
dome, with its ghostly light from a myriad distant worlds.
Was that a dark-hulled, rakish-looking vessel I saw riding upon the
sombre waters of the bay?
It looked uncommonly like it, but the faint starlight was so deceptive,
and the glare of the torches so distracting, that I really could
not tell for certain. That it was a genuine little bay we were fast
descending into seemed beyond all question, for I could now make out
the dark irregular line of the coast as it reared itself against the
starlit sky.
My thoughts were now concentrated upon the vessel I thought I had seen
anchored in the bay. Had she been a genuine trader, she would surely
have had a light burning as a signal to other vessels to give her a
wide berth.
Ah, there she was! Yes, I saw her indistinctly, it is true; but still
that hasty glance was enough to satisfy a sailor’s keen eye.
What was this mysterious craft?
There was no time to ruminate further on this head, for we had now
arrived upon the beach, which was composed of patches of firm sand
and shingle, interspersed here and there with a few slab rocks, and
terminated at either end by low but precipitous dark cliffs.
I peered about me intently, fully expecting to see boats drawn up on
the beach, and attendant crews waiting close at hand. Nothing of the
kind, however, was visible.
“The chief will send up a rocket,” I muttered to myself, “and then
boats will be dispatched from the vessel in the bay.”
How earnestly I hoped that the bandage over my eyes would not be
examined by any of my meddlesome jailers! I considered it of great
importance that I should continue to see, even to a limited extent,
what was going on.
My conjecture as to the firing of a rocket was falsified. No such fiery
messenger clove through the darkness, nor did we halt for a moment.
Without uttering a word, the chief led the way along the beach in the
direction of the cliffs at the northern extremity of the bay. I glanced
again and again at the dusky outline of the vessel, fully expecting
to see the flashing of lights, or to detect the sound of voices. All,
however, remained still, silent, and dark, as if every one on board was
buried in slumber. Once, indeed, I thought a signal rocket had soared
up into the air from her upper deck, but it turned out to be a bright
and beautiful meteor which shot across the sky just above her masts.
As we neared the cliffs, I saw that there were many lofty detached
rocks on the sands close to them, and others jutting out into the sea
in every direction. On these latter the waves were breaking in showers
of foaming spray. It was not at all rough, but the tide was evidently
flowing.
Suddenly my eye fell upon a natural archway amid some of the loftiest
rocks, and as I gazed the chief disappeared through it, followed
closely by the leading files. The next moment I had passed through the
aperture myself; and so surprised was I at the scene that burst upon my
view that I almost gave vent to a cry of astonishment.
Fortunately I restrained myself just in time, or the consequences might
have been fatal to my seeing anything more.
We were advancing along the shores of a miniature almost land-locked
cove, the beach of which was composed of extraordinarily fine white
sand, quite free from pebbles and rocks. Drawn up on the strand were
two black boats, the crews of which were lounging about close at hand.
The instant, however, that we appeared upon the scene, these men were
on the alert, and began making preparations for launching the boats.
A slight tall man, however, who was enveloped in a Spanish cloak,
detached himself from the crowd, and advanced to meet us with hasty
strides. I was alarmed to see that he had in close attendance on him
a Cuban bloodhound, of much the same aspect and dimensions as the
one with which I had already made acquaintance. As this individual
approached, we were ordered by the chief to halt, and the latter took
the stranger aside and held a private conference with him. The two dogs
took the opportunity to greet each other, and judging by their whimpers
of delight seemed to be very old friends.
The cove was very sheltered, and its waters lay in almost a stark calm,
reflecting as in a gigantic mirror the gorgeous stars which strewed
the firmament. Now and again a fish rose to the surface amid a burst
of phosphorescent light which disturbed its tranquillity. The beach
was somewhat steep and the sand firm. A better landing-place for boats
could not have been found in the island of Cuba, I am certain.
As far as I could tell in the dim light—the torches had now been
extinguished—the boats were of a good size, but certainly not capable
of embarking us all.
The conference the chief had been holding with his mysterious friend
had now terminated, and the latter issued some order to the boats’
crews, the effect of which was that the two craft were run down the
steep beach with great speed into the water. Three or four men jumped
into each and seized their oars. Then the chief gave his satellites
the word of command, and before I knew where I was I found myself
forcibly seized by four men, carried down to the water’s edge, and then
unceremoniously bundled into the stern-sheets of one of the boats.
Anxiously I peered out to see what would become of my fellow-prisoners,
and was relieved to see that they had both been placed in the other
boat.
It made me despondent indeed to find that my fears were realized,
and that we were to be forcibly removed from Cuba; but had I—through
some nefarious scheme of the chief—been separated from my shipmates
altogether, the blow would naturally have been far more severe.
The chief got into the boat in which I had been placed, and my _bête
noire_ came and threw himself down close to me, his fangs being within
an inch or so of my face. Feeling his hot breath quite distinctly, I
tried to shift my position, but I found that I was effectually wedged
in by my jailers. The remaining dog got into the other boat.
To my surprise, a number of the men who had accompanied us from the
cavern remained on shore, evidently having received orders of some kind
from their chieftain. I thought it possible that the boats might be
going to return for them after we had been safely disposed of on board
the vessel.
In an instant, and in dead silence, the two craft were pushed off into
deep water, and their noses were turned in the direction of the open
sea. The oars were muffled, and gave out little or no sound; but the
blades appeared to be plunging in and out of liquid fire, so full of
phosphorescent light were the star-begemmed waters of the little cove.
I had little doubt that we were being taken on board the vessel I had
seen in the larger bay, and this conjecture proved quite correct. In
spite of the tide being against us, we spun along at a very rapid
pace; for the men pulled with tremendous energy, although with quick,
jerky strokes. In a minute or two we had passed through the narrow,
rock-guarded entrance of the little cove, and were in the rougher water
outside.
From my position in the boat I could only partially see the vessel we
were steering for, and the light was very deceptive; but I took her to
be a small brig of foreign build and rig.
Our boat outstripped the other, and we got alongside first.
Two minutes later I was securely manacled in irons on the starboard
side of the lower deck, just amidships, my bandage and lashings having
been removed.
It was degradation indeed, but I determined to try to face my fate
manfully. “Never say die!” should be my motto; and somehow the saying
of the heroic Sir Humphrey Gilbert came into my mind, “Heaven is as
near to us on the sea as on the land.”