THE PIRATE CAVE
One morning, a week after the tea-party, Mr. and Mrs. Thornton and Aunt
Clare went for a row on the water. They had two large baskets packed
full to overflowing with something precious. They also took a stone jug
and a coffee-pot. It looked like a picnic party. They were very merry,
as if they expected to have a pleasant time; and yet, it may be that
they had some idea of the danger into which they were about to run, for
they did not take the baby with them.
There was no one in sight when they rowed away from the landing. This
was strange; for usually there were half a dozen children, more or
less, in that neighborhood. Quite recently stories had been told about
a band of pirates who had been seen prowling about the coast. Was it
possible that these ruffians had anything to do with the children’s
disappearance? Mr. and Mrs. Thornton seemed, however, to have forgotten
all about pirate stories, and they rowed merrily away.
“Why, this might indeed be a desert island,” said Aunt Clare, as they
rounded point after point with no sign of a house or a human being.
They passed several little coves and cliffs, the bathing beach and the
chasm, and presently they came in sight of a larger cove with a flat,
stony beach. Beyond this a rock extended out into the water like a
platform. At the back rose a steep cliff, with a black cavity in the
centre.
“There is the cave, up under that rock,” said Mr. Thornton, as the boat
grated on the beach.
“Oh, what a splendid place for a picnic!” cried Aunt Clare, jumping out
lightly. “Do be careful not to upset those baskets; I am dreadfully
hungry already, and I don’t want to lose a mouthful of the delicious
luncheon which Mollie has prepared.”
Mr. Thornton helped out his wife and pulled the empty boat up on the
beach, where the tide could not wash it away. “Now, then,” said he,
“I’ll take the pail of lobsters and one of the baskets. Mama, you
can take the other basket. Clare, will you carry the jug and the
coffee-pot, please? Forward, march! To the cave!”
Aunt Clare began to hum a tune, and they all marched along in time
to it, carrying the luncheon carefully; but just as they were about
to enter the cave there came a terrible sound,--a chorus of screams
and shouts and shrill whistles,--and a band of fierce and desperate
ruffians came rushing out of the cave where they had been hidden,
surrounding the unfortunate picnickers.
These desperadoes were very dreadful to look at. They wore black masks
covering all their faces except their eyes, and some of them had long,
black beards. They carried swords and pistols, which they brandished in
a very dangerous manner. One of them waved a fearful black flag, with
a skull and crossbones painted upon it.
“Pirates!” gasped Aunt Clare. “We are lost!”
“Pirates we are!” shouted the leader of the band, in a terrible voice.
“What are you doing near our cave? I am Bloody Dick, and you are our
prisoners. Hand over your treasure and come along to our captain,
Bulldog Bill. Then we’ll see what will happen to you next!”
There was nothing to do but yield, for the pirates were eight to
three. Mr. and Mrs. Thornton quickly handed over their baskets and the
pail,--Aunt Clare groaned when she saw these treasures seized by the
pirates. Then, after a struggle, she herself was forced to give up the
jug and the coffee-pot. Bloody Dick and Slippery Joe, the biggest of
the band, tied the hands of the prisoners with a piece of rope, while
the others danced about shouting and screaming more like wild Indians
than like pirates.
[Illustration: THE PIRATES ATTACK THE PICNIC PARTY]
“Now come along!” growled Bloody Dick, “and step lively, or the Captain
will make you all walk the plank.”
“What’s ‘walk the plank’?” whispered one of the pirates in pigtails to
another with long, yellow curls.
“Charlie says that it is like the spring-board which the boys use in
swimming,” answered the curly pirate. “But that doesn’t sound very
terrible, does it?”
“No,” said the pigtailed one. “But perhaps there is something more.”
The procession marched up the rocks to the entrance of the cave, led by
Bloody Dick, who held the end of the rope which bound all the prisoners
together, while Slippery Joe guarded the rear. One by one the prisoners
were pushed in, bent almost double, for the opening was low. But once
inside, they found a high room, big enough to hold them all. It was
shadowy but not very dark, for besides the door there was a hole which
went up through the roof like a chimney.
“Oh, what a fine cave!” cried Aunt Clare, forgetting that she was a
prisoner.
“Sh!” warned Bloody Dick. Kenneth looked so fierce in a tarpaulin hat
and long rubber boots, with his belt stuck full of Fourth-of-July
pistols, that Aunt Clare almost trembled. “Silence, till our Captain
speaks!” he commanded.
There was no captain in sight, but presently there was a sound of
scratching, puffing, snorting in the chimney. The pirate captain, like
Santa Claus, was coming down from the roof.
There was a slip and a rattle of stones, and with a thump he tumbled
into the middle of the cave. It was not quite the entrance he had
planned, and the first word of the chief was an “Ow!” of pain. For a
minute he did not rise, but sat rubbing some injured spot upon his
person. Then he reached for his sword, which he had lost in the fall,
and sprang fiercely to his feet, a majestic figure (Charlie was a tall
boy for ten years).
The pirate chief wore a great slouch hat pulled down over his mask,
below which hung a beard of curly black wool. A yellow handkerchief
was knotted about his throat. He wore a red sweater, with a skull and
crossbones on the breast, fringed leggings, and his belt bristled with
knives, daggers, and pistols, to say nothing of the huge tin sword
which he brandished fiercely. He truly was a terrible figure. Little
Jane trembled and clung close to Sue when he hissed through his teeth:--
“Well, my hearties, whom have we here? Bulldog Bill thirsts for
vengeance and for gold!”
“Captain,” said Bloody Dick, “these are land-lubbers who were coming
to our cave. We have captured them and their treasure, which looks
valuable. What shall we do with them?”
“Let the prisoners die,” said the captain, in a blood-curdling voice.
“Let them walk the plank; but we will keep the treasure.”
With a scream Aunt Clare threw herself on her knees before the pirate
captain. “Oh, good Captain Bulldog,” she said, “spare us! we are so
young and innocent. One of us has a dear little baby at home who will
feel so sad to lose us! Take our treasure, if you will, but spare
our lives. Yonder coffee-pot is solid tin, and so are the knives and
spoons. Let such a prize content you!”
Aunt Clare pretended to cry so pitifully that the three smallest
pirates began to boohoo with sympathy, until Slippery Dick whispered:--
“Sh! You kids! She’s only pretending. Don’t you know it’s all play?”
Bulldog Bill listened to the prisoner’s words, but shook his head. “It
is not enough,” he said. “What will you do for us besides?”
“We will be your slaves,” said Aunt Clare. “We will prepare your
dinner.”
Still the captain shook his head. “Can’t you do something else?” he
asked.
Aunt Clare had an idea. “I will tell you a story,” she said.
“Ha! that is good!” exclaimed the captain. “You shall tell us a tale,
but it must be one that we have never heard before. If you do this we
will set you free.”
“Give me time to think, and I will promise to tell you a tale which you
never heard before,” said Aunt Clare.
“Very good,” growled Bulldog Bill. “Loose the prisoners’ bonds so that
they can prepare our meal. But guard them well so that they cannot
escape.”
Bloody Dick and Slippery Joe untied the prisoners’ hands, while the
other pirates guarded the entrance of the cave.
“Now, then,” said the pirate captain, “we are hungry. Let us dine at
once. Prisoners, prepare the food!”
“It is too early for luncheon,” said Mrs. Thornton. But the pirates
began to clamor. Aunt Clare sided with them.
“Let them have their way,” she begged. “Hungry pirates are very
dangerous! Besides, I confess that I am half starved myself.”
“Well, then, we must have a fire,” said Mrs. Thornton. “Who will
gather wood for the fire?”
“Let the four youngest pirates do that,” said the captain. So Jane,
Bill, Bob, and Rose went out to hunt for driftwood on the beach.
Presently they were running in and out like ants, bringing it by
armfuls.
“We must have water,” said Mrs. Thornton. “Who will go to the spring
for it?”
“Let me go,” said Sue.
“No, the jug will be heavy. Let Slippery Joe fetch the water,”
commanded the captain. So Slippery Joe went forth. “We others will
examine the treasure,” said the captain. The remaining four, Charlie,
Kenneth, Mary, and Sue, sat down on the ground and began to unpack the
baskets which had come in the boat. And as they unwrapped one after
another of the good things, they smacked their lips and squealed with
delight. They were so interested in the treasure that they forgot all
about their prisoners. But suddenly they heard a shout from outside the
cave:--
“Catch him! He’s running away!”
The pirates jumped to their feet. Mrs. Thornton was bending over the
fire, doing things with the coffee-pot, and Aunt Clare was taking the
lobsters to pieces. But Mr. Thornton had disappeared.
Bulldog Bill and his men rushed to the door echoing the shout of
“Catch him! catch him!” When they were outside they saw the four other
pirates racing along the beach towards the spot where the runaway
was disappearing over the top of the cliff. The whole band started
in pursuit, leaving Mama and Aunt Clare quite alone; so that these
prisoners might have escaped, too, had they tried. But they were so
interested in preparing dinner that they forgot all about it. Just like
women!
After a long time the pirates returned, flushed, panting, and tired,
but without their prisoner.
“Papa ran so fast we could not catch him,” explained Rose to her Mama.
“He ran away into the woods, and we couldn’t find him. Oh, Mama! I’m
afraid now he won’t be here for dinner!” Rose looked distressed.
“Silence, Burly Ben!” said the captain sternly. “This is no fit talk
for one of Bulldog Bill’s bloody band!--My! how good that cocoa smells!
Is dinner almost ready, Aunt Clare? I never was so hungry in my life.
Can’t I have just one little lobster claw to chew?”
Aunt Clare had not spread the tablecloth in the cave, for that would
have been too dark and too crowded for every one to be comfortable. But
the flat rock out in front of the cave made a fine table, with room for
every one to sit cross-legged around it in pirate fashion. Each person
had a big, round scallop-shell for a plate, with a tin cup of cocoa
beside it, and such a lovely luncheon was spread on the white cloth as
the little Prouts at least had never before seen. They all sat down
together, prisoners and pirates, and the pirates forgot for a time that
they were anything but hungry girls and boys.
“It is too bad that Papa isn’t here,” said Mrs. Thornton.
“Too bad!” echoed Kenneth and Rose sorrowfully.
But before many minutes they heard a sound of some one scrambling down
the cliff close by, and presently Mr. Thornton himself crept sheepishly
up to the group.
“Please, Mr. Pirate Captain,” he said, “may I come back to dinner? When
I ran away I forgot about Aunt Clare’s story. I don’t mind starving to
death, as I came very near doing on this desert island, but I could not
bear to lose the story. Let me dine and hear the tale, then I will walk
the plank gladly.”
“Have you any ransom?” asked the pirate chief, taking a huge bite of
sandwich.
Mr. Thornton slapped his pockets doubtfully. Then his face brightened.
“Yes! I do happen to have one bit of treasure about me which you
did not take away,” he said. “You forgot, I think, to go through my
pockets.”
He drew out a bag of peanuts and handed it to Bulldog Bill, then seized
a sandwich in each hand. “Fair exchange!” he cried. The children set up
a shout of delight.
“It is a good treasure,” said Bulldog Bill approvingly, as he helped
himself.
“I would have starved rather than eat them,” said Mr. Thornton, with
a sad voice. “I bought them as a present for my innocent children at
home. But since I have fallen into the power of this pirate crew you
must do with them as you think best.”
Now the pirates knew what it was best to do with peanuts; and they
did it. When every one had eaten all he possibly could, the captain
suddenly remembered that he was a pirate. He put on his tarpaulin hat,
and seizing his sword, said sternly to Aunt Clare:--
“It is now time for the story. Prisoner, begin; but beware how you tell
us one which we have heard before. If it is a chestnut you shall die.”
“Fierce Captain,” said Aunt Clare, “did you ever hear the tale called
‘The Pirate Hoard’?”
“No,” said Captain Bulldog, “I never did. Has any one here ever heard
this tale?” And every one answered, “No!”
“I thought not,” said Aunt Clare.
“Very good,” said the captain; “go on with the story.”
And this is the story which Aunt Clare told.