THE TRAP.
A cheery proverb declares there is no cloud so black that it hath not a
silver lining. Conversely we may say that there is no sky so blue that
no cloud is gathering in it. The sky over the heads of Captain Drake
and his men glowed like a firelit, flawless sapphire; yet behind, where
the giant trees shut out the view of the heavens, a cloud was
gathering, charged with the very mirk of death.
For days and nights before the _Golden Boar_ had come abreast of the
mouth of the creek, the summit of the bluff had not been without a
keen-eyed sentinel. Squatted on his haunches, or lying prone on the
grass, a patient Indian had scanned sea and horizon for a sign of a
sail. His watch was duly rewarded. He heard the shout of the lookout
man; saw the ship put about for the entrance near which he lay; then he
slipped into the trees behind him, and ran down the declivity and
through the forest like a creature born to a life in the tree-packed
solitudes. He passed round the bay, and ran for another couple of
miles along the creek. Then, in a natural clearing, he came upon a
tent around which were gathered about fifty warriors of his own tribe.
At the entrance to the tent he bowed himself down to the earth, and lay
there until a voice bade him arise.
"The ship of the white men, O my father!"
"Where?"
"They come into the harbourage."
"Get thy canoe." Basil came forth, and was soon speeding down to the
bay. He got out on the side opposite to the cluster of mangroves,
climbed a tree, and watched the _Golden Boar_ as it beat into the
narrow entrance from the sea. The sun shone on the gilded monster that
stood "rampant" under the bows and lit up the tall figure of Morgan,
who stood watching the muddy waters as they ran lapping along the sides
of the ship. Basil recognized all, and smiled in triumph. He went
back to his tent and dispatched swift messengers along the track across
the isthmus; the Spanish troops were lagging somewhere on the road, and
must needs be hurried.
All that night, sleepless, noiseless Indians lay near the ship and
heard every call of the watch. With the coming of the dawn they
slipped farther back, but maintained a close espionage. Basil's
messenger returned. The troops were bivouacked not far away. They
would start with the earliest light, and might be expected within two
hours of sunrising. The natives were sent down to the fringe of the
bay to keep unseen watch over every movement of the Englishmen. Basil
waited for the white troops. His plans were carefully made, and he
hoped to capture the ship and every soul of her company.
Morgan and Jeffreys pushed their way through the trees, seeking some
open glade where deer might be feeding. Each carried bow and arrows,
so that the quarry might be obtained without raising any alarm that
might arouse near-dwelling natives or any chance party of Spaniards.
The laughter of their comrades died away behind them little by little,
and was presently lost altogether. Once or twice the undergrowth
rustled, and both paused, hoping to sight some eatable prey; but they
saw nothing, and wandered farther and farther on.
They had gone for nearly a mile, when suddenly an Indian stood in their
path. The fellow paused for an instant, then turned and fled as though
in affright. Both were about to cry out to reassure him, when they
were stealthily assailed from behind. A native cloth or blanket was
thrown over the head of each; brown arms closed round and pinioned
their limbs. They were thrown to the ground, and a heavy blow on the
head rendered them unconscious. They had no chance to cry out, and
were trapped with scarcely a struggle. When they recovered their
senses they were in a canoe going rapidly up-stream; their heads were
still muffled, and their limbs bound with tight thongs.
Between the trees the digging went on merrily enough. About three feet
down a skull was found; then another; then various human bones. These
gruesome discoveries checked the singing and laughter, and for a while
the men worked in silence. But there was nothing to dull the spirits
of the water-carriers, and they romped and skylarked like a party of
schoolboys. Those on board ship envied their companions who were
ashore, and the relief digging party leant over the bulwarks, eager to
take their turn amongst the mangroves.
Meanwhile a net of fire and steel was being drawn around the workers.
The net was set; every mesh was tested, and yet the fowler hesitated to
draw it in: all the birds were not gathered in the baited area. The
water-carriers were too far from the diggers, and the ship rode clear
of the shore. The Indian allies hid, waiting with inexhaustible
patience. The Spanish troops were restless and ill-controlled. They
saw two small parties of Englishmen busily engaged, and without
suspicion of danger. It was so easy to form two bands, surround and
capture all. Barely a dozen men remained aboard the ship; surely they
could seize the vessel at their leisure! The Spanish commander did not
possess Basil's gift of caution. He determined to attack, and launched
a mixed force against the water-carriers and seized every one. Another
band dashed for the mangroves; but warning had been given. Sir John
and his gentlemen whipped out their swords, and the workers seized
pick-axe and shovel. Captain Drake saw the movement in the trees,
shouted an alarm, and at once turned his guns on the rustling patch. A
couple of terrific charges followed; trees splintered and crashed, and
the Indian allies fled in terror, freeing some of the water-carriers,
who plunged at once into the bay and swam to the ship. The group of
mangroves was a natural fortress, and the Dons failed to get in at the
first rush. The flight of the Indians threw them into a momentary
disorder; and Captain Drake, instant in appreciating an opportunity,
turned a gun a little wide of the cluster, and sent a ball smashing
into the rallying place of the foe. Covered by the armed gentlemen,
the workers retreated to their boat; arrows and a few musket balls flew
after them, but the ship's guns again spoke out, and no Don dared show
himself. The boat was reached at the cost of a few wounds. At the
ship's side the men received arms, and the soldiers aboard leaped down
to take the place of the wounded. The boat went ashore once more, and
the whole of its company made for the spring, hoping to rescue the men
there. The enemy opposed their way, but they drove them before them,
and the guns from the vessel swept and cleared the surrounding patches
of woodland. The spring was reached; the Dons had fled; and the marks
of the short struggle were all the rescue party discovered. They
followed the trail for a while, but the foe had got the start and the
help of their native guides. The men reluctantly returned to the shore
of the bay, fortunately picking up a couple of wounded sailors on their
way. The undergrowth around was diligently searched, but it yielded
nothing alive.
The ship's roll was called, and the losses counted. No one had seen
anything of Jeffreys and Morgan since the first landing; they had gone
a-hunting, and their fate could hardly be doubted. The digging party
had escaped death and capture, and no man was seriously wounded. Of
the water party, the two Johnsons, who had acted as leaders, were
wounded and prisoners; three others were captives with them; the rest
had escaped. There were no further attempts at digging that day. This
was, perhaps, just as well, for the earth contained no treasure. The
Dons had seized that long before.