JEFFERSON FINDS THE GUM
A half-moon shone in a rift between the massed banks of cloud when
Austin stood looking down into the trench four of the Spaniards were
digging. It ran partly across the islet, which was small and sandy,
intersecting another excavation that had a palm at one end of it, while
a half-rotten cottonwood, from which orchids sprang, stood in line with
the trench the men were toiling in. They were shovelling strenuously,
and the thud of the sand they flung out jarred on the silence, for the
night was very still. Austin could hear the creek lapping on the beach,
and the deep humming of the _Cumbria_'s pump, softened by the distance.
She lay, with a light or two blinking fitfully on board her, half a mile
away, ready at last for sea. Then he glanced at Jefferson, who stood
close beside him, shivering a little, though the night was hot, as he
leaned upon a shovel.
"We have been at it, at least, a couple of hours," Austin said
suggestively.
Jefferson laughed. "And we'll be here this time to-morrow unless we find
the case. There's only one on this islet, that fellow said, and, as I
tried to point out, the men who buried it probably wanted to get the
thing done quickly. They'd have run a line from the two trees, and
either dumped the case at the intersection or a few paces outside it on
a given bearing. If we don't strike it in a few minutes we'll work a
traverse."
Ten minutes passed, and then one of the Canarios cried out excitedly as
he struck something with his shovel. Austin saw his comrade's hands
quiver on the shovel-haft in the moonlight, but that was all, and next
moment two of the Spaniards fell on hands and knees in the sand. They
flung it up in showers with their fingers, while Austin, by an effort,
stood very still, for he felt that he might do things he would be sorry
for afterwards if he let himself go. The Latins were panting in their
eagerness, and wallowing rather like beasts than men amidst the flying
sand. Then one of them, who dragged something out, hove it up and flung
it at Austin's feet with a gasp of consternation.
"Ah, maldito! Es muy chiquitita!" he said.
Austin set his lips as he glanced at his comrade, whose face grew
suddenly hard.
"Yes," he said, with portentous quietness. "It is remarkably small, and
by the way he hove it up there can't be very much in it."
They stood still a moment, looking down at the little wooden case, while
the Spaniards clustered round them, with eyes that gleamed in the
moonlight, breathing unevenly. Then Jefferson said: "Light that
blast-lamp, and we'll open it."
Austin's fingers trembled, and he wasted several matches before the
sheet of flame sprang up. Then he fell furiously upon the case with a
hammer and splintered the lid. He plunged his hand in and took out a
quill, which he twisted until it burst, and spilled a little heap of
gleaming grains in his palm.
"It's gold," he said.
"Empty the lot!" said Jefferson, and his voice was hoarse. "Your hat is
big enough. It will all go into it."
There was a low murmur from the Spaniards when Austin obeyed him, and he
handed the wide-brimmed hat to Jefferson.
"Would you make it four pounds?" asked the latter.
"I certainly would not."
Jefferson laughed harshly. "Then it's probably worth some AL200," he
said. "It's rather a grim joke, considering what has no doubt been done
for the sake of it."
He laid the hat down, and one of the Spaniards, glancing at the little
pile of quills, broke into a torrent of horrible maledictions, while
Austin, who said nothing, gazed at his comrade until the latter made a
curious little gesture.
"There is still the gum," he said.
Austin smiled sardonically. "If you can still believe in it you are an
optimist of the finest water. Any way, we'll go and look for it. It will
be a relief to get done with the thing."
They waded to the surfboat, which lay close by on the beach, and slid
down stream to an adjacent island, where they had no difficulty in
finding the tree the man who made the note in the engineers' tables had
alluded to. The moon had, however, sunk behind a cloud, and they toiled
by the light of the blast-lamp for half an hour, until once more one of
the Canarios struck something with his shovel. They dragged it out with
difficulty, and found it to be a heavy, half-rotten bag, with something
that appeared to be a package of plaited fibre inside it. Other bags
followed, and hope was growing strong in them again when they had
disclosed at least a score. Jefferson looked at Austin with a little
smile in his eyes.
"There's a couple of hundred pounds, any way, in each of those bags, and
if the man who told me was right, that stuff is worth anything over AL100
the ton," he said. "So far as we have prospected, this strip of sand is
full of them. It's going to be more profitable than gold-mining. We'll
get this lot into the surfboat first. Put that lamp out."
Austin did so, and they staggered through a foot or two of water with
the bags on their backs. Some of them burst as they carried them, but
the fibre packages remained intact, and the big boat was almost loaded
when Austin, who was breathless, seated himself for a moment on her
gunwale. He could see by the silvery gleam on the cloud bank's edge that
the moon was coming through again, and he was glad of the fact, for he
had stumbled and once fallen heavily under his burden when floundering
through the strip of thorny brushwood which fringed the beach. Still, he
agreed with Jefferson that it was not advisable to use the big
blast-light any longer than was absolutely necessary, for they both had
an unpleasant suspicion that they had not done yet with Funnel-paint. It
was, indeed, for that reason they had made the search at night and used
the surfboat, which could be paddled almost silently, instead of the
launch, though Tom had repaired her boiler, and she was then lying
alongside the _Cumbria_, with steam up, ready.
The black hull of the latter was faintly visible, and as he glanced at
it he fancied that a puff of white steam sprang up where he supposed the
locomotive boiler to be. A moment later a thin, shrill scream rang
through the stillness, and one of the Spaniards, startled by the sound,
fell heavily against the boat with the bag he was carrying. Austin made
a sign to Jefferson, who was staggering across the beach with a bag upon
his back.
"They're whistling," he said. "I fancy I can hear the launch coming."
There was another hoarser scream, and when it died away a low thudding
sound crept out of the darkness. Austin swept his gaze upriver, but
could only see the shadowy mangroves, for the moon had not come through
yet.
"Funnel-paint!" said Jefferson, breathlessly. "There are four more bags
in sight. We'll get her afloat before we go for them."
They did it up to their waists in water, and it cost them an effort, for
the big boat was heavy now; and then, though the Spaniards glanced
longingly at the _Cumbria_'s blinking lights, Jefferson insisted upon
their carrying down the bags. When that was done, nobody lost any time
in getting on board; and, grasping the paddles, they drove her out into
the stream.
"Paddle!" said Jefferson grimly. "I guess it's for your lives!"
It is probable that the Spaniards did not understand him, but they did
what they could, for while the clank of the launch's engines grew louder
the sound of paddles was also rapidly drawing nearer. There were,
however, very few of them, and the boat was big, so that Austin gasped
with relief when at last the little steamer swept round her stern.
"Stand by for the line!" said Tom, who sprang up on her deck. "They
can't be far off. It's ten minutes, any way, since we first heard their
paddles."
The tow-line was caught, and tightened with a jerk, and the surfboat
went upstream with the yellow water frothing about her, while Austin
could hear the rhythmic thud of paddles through the clank of
hard-pressed engines. Jefferson said nothing, but stood rigidly still,
with hands clenched on the big steering oar, until they drove alongside
the _Cumbria_.
"Up with you, Tom, and see they whip those bags in!" he said. "I want
the case you'll find under the settee in my room, too. You'll sing out
for two or three men who can be relied on, Austin."
"What are you going to do?" asked Austin.
Jefferson laughed unpleasantly. "Head the devils off from the island,
any way, and, if it's necessary, obliterate some of Funnel-paint's
friends. It's fortunate the launch has twice the speed of any canoe."
He clambered on board the launch, and when a few more men came
scrambling down, swung her out before they could decide whether it would
be wiser to climb back again. After that, he left the helm to Austin,
and moving towards the engine, opened the valve wide.
"Head her for the islet. If they have had anybody watching us in a
canoe, they'll go there first," he said.
Austin made a sign of comprehension, but said nothing until his comrade,
sitting down, opened the case he had asked for. Then he became possessed
by unpleasant apprehensions as he saw Jefferson take out several rolls
of giant-powder with fuses attached to them. They looked exactly like
candles now, only the wicks were black, and unusually long. Sitting
still, very grim in face, he tied one or two together, and then nipped a
piece or two off the fuses with his knife.
"I guess it would be as well to make sure," he said.
"Of what?" asked Austin.
"That they'll go off when I want them," and Jefferson laughed a little
grating laugh. "I've had them ready for some while, and took a good deal
of trouble timing the fuses. Now, the effect of giant-powder's usually
local, and I figure one could throw these things far enough for us to
keep outside the striking radius. They'd go better with a little
compression, but there's a big detonator inside them which should stir
them up without it. If these two sticks fell upon a nigger they wouldn't
blow him up. They'd dissolve him right into gases, and it's quite
probable there wouldn't be any trace of him left."
Austin asked no more questions. Worn as he was by tense effort and the
climate, kept awake as he had been to watch when he might have slept at
night, and troubled by vague apprehensions that the loathsome plague
might be working in his blood, he was ready, and, perhaps, rather more
than that, to turn upon the man who had made their heavy burden more
oppressive still. Indeed, it would have been a relief to him to feel the
jump of a rifle barrel in his hand, but from Jefferson's scheme he
shrank almost aghast. To run amuck, with flashing pistol or smashing
firebar, among the canoes, would have appeared to him a natural thing,
but the calculating quietness of his comrade, who sat so unconcernedly,
making sure that the rolls of plastic material should not fail, struck
him as wholly abnormal, and a trifle horrible. Pistol shot, machete
slash, and spear thrust, were things that one might face; but it seemed
beyond toleration that another man should unloose the tremendous
potentialities pent up in those yellow rolls upon flesh and blood.
He was, however, quite aware that there was nothing to be gained by
protesting, and while Jefferson went on with his grim preparations he
turned his gaze upriver towards the approaching canoes. He could see
them clearly, black bars that slid with glinting paddles athwart a track
of silvery radiance, for the half-moon had sailed out from behind the
cloud. They were coming on in a phalanx, five or six of them, and the
splash and thud of the paddles rose in a rhythmic din. He swung the
launch's bows a trifle down stream, to run in between them and the
island.
Then he turned again, and saw Bill, the fireman, watching Jefferson. The
light of the engine lantern was on his face, and it showed wry and
repulsive with its little venomous grin. Forward, the Spaniards were
clustered together, and they were, by their movements, apparently
loosening their wicked knives; but they showed no sign of consternation,
and Austin became sensible of a change in his mood. It seemed to him
that he and they had grown accustomed to fear, and felt it less in the
land of shadow. If they were to be wiped out by a spear thrust, or
Jefferson's giant-powder, which seemed equally likely, nothing that he
could do would avert it; but by degrees he became possessed by a quiet
vindictive anger against the man who had forced this quarrel on them
when their task was almost done. There were, he fancied, fifty or sixty
men in the canoes, and he felt a little thrill of grim satisfaction as
he reflected that if he and his comrades went under they would not go
alone. In fact, he could almost sympathise with Jefferson.
In the meanwhile the canoes were drawing level with them as they
approached the islet. He could see the wet paddles glinting, and the
naked bodies swing, while presently Jefferson, who made Bill a little
sign to stop the engine, stood up on the deck. The case of giant-powder
lay open at his feet, and Bill laid a glowing iron on the cylinder
covering. The men in the canoes ceased paddling, and while the craft
slid slowly nearer each other there was for a moment or two an
impressive silence, through which Austin fancied he could hear a faint
rhythmic throbbing. Then Jefferson, who cut one of the rolls of
giant-powder through, flung up his hand.
"Where you lib for, Funnel-paint?" he shouted.
"Them beach," said the negro, and his voice reached them clearly. "We
done come for them gum. You lib for 'teamboat before we cut you t'roat!"
"Then I'm going to put the biggest kind of Ju-Ju onto you," said
Jefferson. "You savvy how I blow up them headman's house? If you don't
want to be blown up like it, lib for up river one time, and be ---- to
you!"
There was probably only one man among them who partly understood him,
but his gesture was fierce and commanding, and the confused splashing
of paddles suggested that some, at least, of the negroes were impressed.
Two of the canoes moved backwards against the stream, and while
Funnel-paint cried out in his own tongue, Jefferson stooped.
"Touch that on the iron, Bill," he said.
In another moment he stood very straight again with a dim object that
sparkled in his hand, and then hurled it at the island. It fell amidst
the brushwood, out of which there sprang a sheet of flame that was
followed by a detonation and a great upheaval of flying sand. Then the
paddles splashed confusedly, and in another minute or two the canoes
were a hundred yards away. After that there was silence, broken only by
the voice of Funnel-paint, who seemed to be flinging reproaches at his
friends, and a faint, dull throbbing which Austin fancied was a trifle
plainer than before. Then Jefferson laughed as he took up another stick
of giant-powder.
"That seems to have scared them, but if they come back again they'll get
the next one in the middle of them," he said.
"Listen!" said Austin, holding up his hand. "Can't you hear engines?"
Jefferson swung round sharply, and the scream of a whistle came shrilly
across the water from the _Cumbria_ just then. It was answered by
another of a deeper tone, and a blaze of blue light sprang up,
apparently out of the creek. It showed a black shape that wallowed
through a mass of piled up foam.
"A launch!" said Jefferson. "A fast one!"
"No," said Austin. "A pinnace. A gunboat's pinnace. Ah! the canoes are
going."
There was a sudden thudding of paddles, and the canoes melted into the
darkness as the moon sailed behind a cloud again; but the whirr and
thump of engines drew nearer, and Jefferson reached down for the
lantern.
"Well," he said, "a good deal depends upon what country she belongs to,
and it's quite likely we're going to have trouble. Still, we have got to
face it now."
He waved the lantern, and while the whirr of engines slackened a voice
came out of the darkness.
"Launch ahoy! Is that the _Cumbria_ yonder?" it said in excellent
English.
Austin took the lantern from Jefferson with a soft laugh.
"I'll take charge now--you see, I'm acquainted with my countrymen's
little peculiarities," he said, and raised his voice a trifle. "It is.
If you don't mind steaming that far, we should consider it a pleasure to
do anything we can for you."
"If you have no great objections, I'll come on board now," said the
other man. "Starboard a little! Start her slow!"
There was a whirring of engines, a little, very trim pinnace crept up
alongside, and a young man in immaculate white uniform stepped on the
launch's deck.
"Ah!" he said, "Mr. Austin! I've had the pleasure of meeting you before.
What has become of the niggers?"
"Which niggers?" asked Jefferson, carelessly.
The young officer looked at him with a little dry smile, and it was
evident that his eyes were keen, for he made a sign to Bill, who was
about to secrete the giant-powder.
"I am," he said, "under the impression that you know a good deal more
about them than I do. We have rather good glasses, and I certainly made
out four or five canoes. May I ask what that stuff is yonder?"
"It is what, I believe, is called in America giant-powder," said Austin.
"We found it useful in blowing the mangroves up."
"Quite so," said the officer. "In fact, we heard the detonation. Still,
I daresay there are several things we should like to ask each other
about, and you suggested going across to your steamer."
"I did," said Austin. "We should be glad of your company for to-night,
at least, though I'm afraid we can't offer you much to eat. This is my
partner, Jefferson--Lieutenant Onslow."