THE CHAPEL.
The boys worked with the utmost swiftness, expecting every moment to
see the captain and Chris appear, but, luckily, those two, wearied by
their hard work, had paused to rest before returning with their load.
"Thirty-one," counted Walter as he lowered the last grinning skeleton
into the pit. "There seems a kind of stern justice in their present
position, Charley," he continued. "Now, they are resting side by side
with those whom they tortured and enslaved while living."
"They paid terribly for their cruelty," said his chum, fingering the
flint arrow-heads he had found by the skeletons. "The whole story is
as plain as print. The thirty men whose bones we have just disposed
of, enslaved and tortured members of what was at that time a great
race, working them as slaves in building these walls, and in that
terrible quarry. I confess to a feeling of admiration for them, in
spite of their cruelty. They must have been great warriors, though so
few in numbers, to hold at bay one of the bravest of the Indian tribes."
"I wonder why they remained in this awful swamp," said Walter, musingly.
"Case of necessity, perhaps," Charley replied, thoughtfully. "They had
probably lost many men by the time they reached this island, and had
concluded that to continue on meant utter annihilation, while here
they, with their superior arms and suits of mail, could stand off the
enemy. So they decided to remain and make the best of it. With the
labor of the Indians they captured from time to time they proceeded to
fortify the island and make it more secure."
Walter gazed at his chum admiringly. "You talk as though you saw it
all in front of your eyes," he declared.
Charley did not heed the interruption. "Years went by," he continued,
musingly, like one in a dream, "years in which they grew more and more
confident of their own power, and learned to despise their red foes.
But the Seminoles were only waiting with the patience of their race.
Mark the cunning of the savage. There comes a day and night of
feasting and rejoicing in the Spaniards' religious calendar. Work and
worry is laid aside and they gather in their homes to feast and
rejoice. Night comes and as the sun sets the sentries cast a look
around. Nothing is in sight. There is nothing to fear. They join the
merry-makers, and care and their suits of mail are laid aside, and
merriment prevails. The Indians' hour has come. Over the walls swarm
a red horde, creeping towards the unsuspecting feasters. One long
war-whoop, a shower of arrows, cries of agony, and all is over."
Charley stopped. "I've been talking like a five cent novel," he said,
sheepishly.
"I'll bet that is just the way it really happened," his chum declared.
"That explains why the fort was empty."
"Perhaps," Charley said, "but here comes Chris and the captain, and
we'll have to change the subject."
"I 'spect you-alls don't pay no 'tention 'tall to dis dinner," grumbled
Chris. "De fire's all out, mighty nigh."
"We are not good cooks like you, Chris," said Charley soothingly, and
the vain little darky grinned at the compliment.
"Golly, I reckon dat's so," he declared pompously, "you chillens sho'
don't know nothin' 'bout cookin'. Spect you-alls mighty near starve to
death if it warn't for dis nigger. You chillens jes' get out, an' I'll
finish gettin' de dinner."
The boys, relieved of the cooking, turned their attention to other
tasks. They carried the two canoes into the empty fort and placed them
bottom up in one corner. The other goods they piled up in the shade of
a tree.
Charley then disappeared but soon came back with a large kettle he had
noticed when removing the skeletons. "It's copper," he said,
exhibiting it proudly, "with a little cleaning it will be as good as
when it was made. We need it for boiling water, for we have got to
clean house this afternoon."
While he carried the copper to the spring and scrubbed lustily away
with sand to remove the green verdigris with which it was thickly
coated, Walter attempted the manufacture of a mop. Selecting a
straight piece of the root of a scrub palmetto, which grew in abundance
around the wall, he trimmed it with his knife into the desired shape
and size. Laying the piece, thus prepared, upon a large stone, he
pounded one side of it lustily with a piece of rock. A few minutes
sufficed to pound out the pith and leave the harsh fiber exposed.
By the time the two lads had completed their respective tasks, Chris
announced that dinner was ready and all fell to with appetites
sharpened by the morning's work.
As soon as dinner was finished, the copper kettle was filled with water
and placed upon the fire. By the time the water had come to a boil,
the party was sufficiently rested to attack the house cleaning.
The building nearest the fort was selected as their future abode, and
never did mansion receive a more thorough scouring. Walter plied the
brush, while the captain dashed the water about, and Chris wiped the
floor dry with armfuls of Spanish moss. Charley, on account of his
still lame shoulder, was excused from this labor.
Leaving his companions thus busily employed, Charley took his way to
the building that had aroused his curiosity in the morning, the one in
which they had found no skeletons.
This building was a trifle larger than its fellows and differed very
little from them in external appearance, except that from its roof
projected a little tower. It was the inside, however, which had
excited our young hunter's curiosity. At one end was a kind of raised
platform and the space between it and the entrance was filled with
benches of stone. Charley reverently removed his hat ad he entered,
for he had guessed the character of the place during his morning visit.
It was a chapel that the hardy adventurers of long ago had erected for
the worship of their Maker.
Upon the stone altar stood several vessels, likely of gold or other
precious metal for they were apparently untouched by the ravages of
time. Charley gave them hardly a glance but passed on to the end of
the building until he stood beneath the tiny tower.
One glance upwards, and he uttered an exclamation of satisfaction.
Directly above his head in the little tower hung a large ship's bell.
A part of the mystery of the tolling was solved, but the most puzzling
part remained.
Charley sat down on one of the stone benches and fell into a deep
study. There was the bell but where was the mysterious ringer? The
bell rope had long ago rotted away. The walls had once been plastered
and were still too smooth to offer a foothold to the most expert
climber. How then to account for the regular nightly tolling? The
mystery had in reality deepened instead of lightened.
When Charley at last left the building, he was still puzzled in mind
and had decided to say nothing about his discovery to his companions.
Chris and the captain would be sure to view the matter in its most
supernatural light.
On his return, he found the house scrubbed sweet and clean and the
workers taking a rest after their labors. Feeling that he had not
performed his just share of the work of the day, Charley took upon
himself the carrying in and arranging of their possessions. With these
unpacked and arranged, the room looked less bare and much more cozy and
home-like.
But Charley viewed their scanty possessions with a trace of
dissatisfaction. Two rifles, two shotguns, a half of their ammunition,
and a half of their scanty stock of provisions had been lost when the
canoe upset. Of their original outfit, the two boys retained only
their pistols and ammunition and the tattered clothes they were
wearing. The captain and Chris still had their four guns but their
clothing was as rent and tattered as the two boys'. Of the provisions
there only remained a little sugar, a few pounds of flour, and a small
strip of bacon.
"I tell you what it is," said Charley, as he joined his companion
outside, "we have got to do some tall hustling the next two days. We
have got to lay in a stock of food sufficient to last us for at least a
week, and we have got to make some kind of windows and doors for that
building, besides, which, we have got to manufacture some kind of
clothing for ourselves--mine are almost dropping from me."
"My, what a list of impossibilities!" groaned Walter. "Frankly, I do
not feel as though I could do another stroke of work to-day."
"No, we are all too tired for further effort to-day," Charley agreed,
"but we must get an early start in the morning. We will get some
boughs for beds, have supper, and knock off for the day."
"I know just the stuff we want for beds," Walter declared, "there are
lots of the bushes growing just outside the wall."
The bush Walter referred to, proved to be a species of myrtle with
small leafy boughs of a delicious, spicy fragrance. It grew so
abundantly, that in a few minutes the boys had gathered a large
quantity, which they carried back to the building and spread in four
great heaps on the floor. Upon these their blankets were spread, and
the room took on a cozy, homelike appearance.
Supper was cooked over the camp-fire outside and by the time it was
eaten, night had begun to fall. The little party at once repaired to
their room. They know that the night air of the great swamp was
peculiarly unhealthy. Already they had exposed themselves far too much
to its baneful influence.
They stretched out on their soft, fragrant couches and talked cheerily
over the events of the day and their present situation. Not since they
had left the camp on the point, had the boys felt so bright and
hopeful. They were well housed, none were sick, they were all together
once more, and even the threatened danger from the convicts did not
cause them great uneasiness. They felt confident of their ability now
to keep the outlaws at bay until help arrived.
But their content was not to last long, for soon, harsh, and menacing
in its nearness, rang out the tolling of the bell.
The captain, brave as the bravest in most any kind of danger, turned a
sickly white and sunk to his knees in prayer, while Chris, trembling in
every limb, buried his face in the blanket to shut out the awful sounds.
"Come, Walt," whispered Charley, and the two boys stole out into the
darkness of the night. A few steps brought them to the chapel, and
pistols in hand they circled around it in opposite directions, but
their eager eyes caught no sight of moving forms.
"It must be on the inside," declared Charley, as they met near the
door. "Let's go in and see."
It took all their courage to venture into that dim, mysterious
interior, but the boys never hesitated, but stepped boldly in. Back
and forth they paced the grim interior, searching every nook and
corner, and found nothing. Not even a sound fell on their strained
hearing, save only the strong, steady tolling above their heads.
Charley stood under the little tower and gazed longingly up into its
darkness where the bell, under some mysterious power, swayed steadily
to and fro.
"I wish I could get up there, I'd tie the thing down," he declared.
"If this keeps up, we will have our hands full to keep Chris and the
captain on the island."
"Come away, Charley," said Walter, nervously, "this thing is getting
positively uncanny. I declare I am beginning to feel a sympathy for
Chris' terrors."
The two lads retraced their steps to the hut where they found the
captain, in spite of his superstitious fears, preparing to sally out in
search of them.
For long the two boys sat trying to argue the captain and Chris out of
their superstitious fears. They might as well have tried to argue
against fate itself.
"Aye, lads," the captain would say in reply to their logic, "I know
spirits seem against reason to shore-staying folks, but sailors know
better. Now there was Tom Bowling who took to hearing bells during his
watch on deck, an' not two days later, poor old Tom was missing."
"Went crazy and jumped over-board," muttered Charley, but the captain
shook his head with the air of a man who had no doubt as to the nature
of his friend's fate.
It was not long after the bell ceased tolling that the last of the
little party fell into a troubled sleep.