THE YELLOW PARCHMENT
"Welcome, Peter!" cried Hartog, when he saw me. "I'd have wagered you'd
be with us, and here you are in the nick of time."
"What's in the wind now?" I asked, as I drew a chair to the table at
which the three were seated.
"The greatest and best chance that was ever offered to seafarers,"
answered Hartog. "Read that, and say whether any man with the blood of
a rover in him could sit tamely at home when such a country as this is
waiting to be explored."
With these words he pushed toward me a parchment yellow with age, but
very clearly written, so it was easy to decipher. The paper, a
translation in Spanish from some ancient tongue, read as follows:
"The Ruby Mountains. Among these mountains there are certain great and
deep valleys to the bottom of which there is no access. These valleys
are full of rubies. Wherefore the men who go in search of them take
with them a piece of flesh as lean as they can get, and this they east
into the bottom of the valley. Now there are a number of white eagles
that haunt these mountains and feed upon the serpents in which the
valley abounds. When the eagles see the meat thrown down, they pounce
upon it, and carry it up to some rocky hill-top, where they begin to
rend it. But there are men on the watch, and as soon as they see that
the eagles have, settled they raise a loud shouting to drive them off.
And when the eagles are thus scared away, the men recover the pieces of
meat, and find them full of rubies, which have stuck to the meat down
in the bottom of the valley. The abundance of rubies in these depths is
astonishing, but none can get down, and if any could they would be
devoured by the serpents which abound there. This country is inhabited
by pygmies and giants. The giants, who are by far the largest men to be
seen in this strait, are ruled by the pygmies."
"And who is the author of this fairy tale?" I asked.
"One to whom I take my hat off," answered Hartog. "Marco Polo, the
first and greatest navigator in the world's history. Where he could go
we can follow."
"And where does he place the Ruby Mountains?" I inquired.
"That is what troubles me," replied Hartog. "Marco Polo knew the Great
South Land, but not so thoroughly as we are beginning to know it now.
From this chart I place the Ruby Mountains on the north-west coast of
the continent of New Holland."
"Whose chart is it?" I inquired.
"Marco Polo's own," said Hartog. "It was given to me by a man I once
befriended, together with the parchment you have just read. How he came
by it I need not say. The man is dead, and I trust his sins are
forgiven him. But I know he would not lie to me, not willingly."
"It seems a wild goose chase," I said, although my doubts were rapidly
dissolving under the witchery of Hartog's sanguine temperament.
"So did our last voyage," answered Hartog. "Yet every word that was
written upon the paper that guided us was true. And why should we
presume that men would give so much labour to preparing these charts
and manuscripts in order to perpetuate lies?"
I could not but admit this. The ability to make these drawings, and to
inscribe these manuscripts, I knew was confined to a very few, who were
mostly men of truth and honour. Such accounts as were available of the
wonderful voyages of Marco Polo I had read with avidity, and I saw no
reason to doubt the assertions of this brave and learned man.
"What do you propose, then?" I asked Hartog, although in my own mind, I
knew the old sea-dog was impatient to be off on a new treasure-hunt.
"What else can I do, Peter?" replied Hartog, "than take ship for this
place? I could never rest content, nor would you either, with the
thought of these Ruby Mountains still unexplored."
"You have settled the matter, then, so far as I am concerned," I said,
with a laugh.
"And why not, partner?" answered Hartog. "We own a fine ship that was
surely never intended only to make a maiden voyage. We could visit this
place, and be back in twelve months--two years at most. What is to keep
us, then, from our pleasure trip?"
Before Hartog had done speaking, I knew my mind was made up to go with
him. My life at home with Pauline had become intolerable, nor did I
take any active part in De Decker's business, finding the drudgery of
the counting-house irksome after my more exciting experiences on sea
and land, so, without further ado, I expressed to Hartog my willingness
to join him in a fresh adventure to the South.
Hartog was overjoyed at my decision.
"I made no doubt you would come with me, Peter," he said. "We have been
shipmates too long to sail our separate ways alone. With Bantum and
Janstins, who are willing to sign on, and a picked crew; we can explore
the Ruby Mountains and be back within the year."