THE ESCAPE
"That was good business," said the leader of the five.
"And bad policy," broke in Ray.
"Shut your yap!" said the man. "And who was askin' your opines?"
"Oh, I've got a big heart for the miserable and ignorant," returned Ray.
"And a long tongue for a kid, I'm thinkin'," said the man.
"It'll be short when I get to talking to some purpose," snapped Ray.
"It's time we're shovin' them in the hole," said the leader now. "Darby,
it'll be your watch first," he continued as they led us away.
In ten minutes we were at the foot of a hill, stumbling over roots, and
stooping to avoid the branches.
"Now bend your backs an' come on," ordered the man in front.
We pushed through a tangle of growth, and next, stood in the cool of a
cave, as we saw by the light of the lantern. It was a room fifty or
sixty feet across.
"Looks like there's been an earthquake in here," observed Ray.
The dirt of the floor, for the greater part, was in irregular mounds. It
was evidently done with spade and pick, for nothing else would account
for the condition it was in.
"They're hunting for treasure," I said in Ray's ear.
We sat crouched against the cool of one of the heaps.
The men had squatted close to the entrance. A bottle was produced.
"Here's two fingers to the success o' this new deal," said the leader,
turning the bottle bottom up in the midst of his beard.
The flask went round to the others. One said--"Here's hopin' he'll come
back with the ten thousand." And another--"Here's wishin' him in h--l if
he don't," as he drank.
"Well the kids' party ain't after our game, that's a comfort," said one,
lighting his pipe.
"Why not turn the kids loose, an' so we'll get rid o' the whole mob o'
them?"
"Why not? you says; an' you claim to have brains in that thing on your
shoulders! Now didn't our man with the money say as how his success
depended on keepin' the kids' party here a week, an' ain't our ten
thousand dependin' on his success?"
"Well, he'll never come back with no ten thousand, success or no
success."
"Maybe no, but I'm willin' to take a chance on it, since the chance is
so cheap."
They soon fell into discussion of other topics.
"Granddaddy Par always said it was buried in three places. Now because
some others have been before us in this cave, it's no sign they have
been before us in the other places. If I hadn't been such a little kid
when he showed me that map, and said as how he'd take me with him some
day an' go after the stuff--it was always 'some day,' and the rheumatiz
never left him till he died. As I was sayin', if I hadn't been such a
little kid, I'd made a copy o' the map."
"It's queer you can't remember nothin' on the map."
"I see it in my dreams, times; but when I wakes it's all gone. But I
think we're on the right track. That old harpoon grown tight in that
crotch o' the tree, pointin' over to the two trees, blazed, wasn't for
nothin'."
"How do ye know them's blazes on the trees?"
"It's plain ye ain't no woodsman. They ain't nothin' can cause such
marks 'cept blazin'. An' the best thing about it--there ain't been no
diggin' anywhere in that place."
And so they continued till the bottle was finished, and all had dozed
off except the man they called Darby, who came over and had a good look
at our bonds.
Ray and I were wakened by voices. The treasure-hunters were all
stirring, preparing to go off to their day's digging. One they called
Stephen Conry remained to be our guard. He brought us food when the
others had gone.
"Now, ye'll not monkey with the ropes," said our guard, examining the
knots on our limbs, after having given our hands freedom. "I'm quick on
the trigger when I'm mad. So no gum games on Conry. Heed that!"
"Oh! I wouldn't part with these ropes for anything," said Ray. "I'm
getting so used to them I couldn't sleep without them. I'd be afraid
someone would kidnap me if I didn't have them."
The man stared, lacking humor.
"You'd be none the worse off, if you turned us loose," I told the man.
"And you'll be no better off if you keep us. That man will never come
back. He isn't the kind--"
"We ain't goin' to discuss that," returned the man. "We'll turn you two
loose, 'none the worse off,' when the time's up, not afore." And he went
back to the entrance of the cave, leaving the lighted lantern on a box.
My mind was taken with painful reveries. Our party was now facing
failure again. Here had Duran got the two of us hidden in a place, our
new guards declared, would never be found out by our friends. Never is a
long time, you'll say. But suppose our party was to delay two or three
days in the search for us? Would not Duran then be off beyond
possibility of following, and so gain to the mine without fear of
detection? That he had much reason to fear our pursuit there had been
ample evidence. And now he had paid five thousand dollars to these men
to hold us--and thus indirectly to hold all our party--for a week, that
he might safely hie away to finish enriching himself from the mine of
the Brills.
These reflections made me squirm with impatience. Some way must be found
to accomplish escape before night, for then Duran would surely be off,
and all of us undone. Our guard, I saw, kept a sharp eye out, so we
durst not even look at our bonds.
A little before noon, John Mullins, the leader of the treasure-hunters,
came crawling into the cave, chuckling over a bit of news.
"And what do you think, Steve? The kids' friends have been 'round,
askin' if we'd seen anything of them. There was three on 'em; a big
fellow with a rifle and two kids. He said it was two boys they was
lookin' for. I says I ain't never seen no boys on this island 'cept them
he had with him. An' then he wants to know if we'd seen some black
cannibals, an' a white cannibal amongst 'em. Think o' that, Steve,
cannibals!
"'Lor' bless you!' I says, 'there ain't no cannibals in this part o' the
world!'
"'Well,' says he, 'you can take it from me as how there's no less'n a
dozen cannibals on this here island now, an' a white skunk is their
leader.' Now what do you think o' that, Steve Conry?"
"I--I don't rightly make it out," said Steve, ruminating--scratching his
head. "They must o' had their bellies full when they left the kids with
us to keep. Now do you suppose," went on Steve with a new thought, "as
how maybe they mean to come back at the end o' the week we was to keep
the kids, an' that then they're expectin' to have their appetites again,
an' eat the kids--an' then eat us too, an' get back the five thousan' to
boot?"
I nudged Ray at this, and got a poke in return.
"Ha! That's all bosh," laughed the other. "They ain't no more cannibals
than you an' me. The feller was just tryin' to scare us--maybe thought
he'd get us to help them against the black crowd--whatever the game is,
but I let him see John Mullins wasn't born yesterday, and not frightened
o' bogey stories. So when he saw it was no use he just moved on. Well,
Steve, you go an' get your grub, an' bring a snack for the kids. We got
to keep 'em fed up for the cannibals." And he laughed at his joke.
Steve disappeared through the hole, and Mullins turned to Ray and
myself.
"I reckon your friends 'd pay a nice little wad to get ye back," he
ventured.
"I reckon they wouldn't," I promptly told him. I began to fear he might
try them, and perhaps find Julian too willing to offer a reward for us.
I had another idea than that.
"Oh, you don't think they would, hey?" said Mullins, a bit taken aback
by my answer. "I thought," he said, "they was kind o' keen to get ye."
The thought of that piece of indelible pencil in my pocket rose in my
mind again. "Well, they might if I was to write them a note telling them
to."
"Oh," said Mullins, "if you was to write them a note." He ruminated.
"Now that would be tellin' them we knew where you was. Well, we'll think
about it a day or two."
A day or two, I thought, wouldn't suit our book.
Steve had soon returned, and Mullins went out. Our guard came to see to
our bonds; and he twisted his head in a way that told me he had
something on his mind.
"These here niggers," he began, "they ain't no cannibals, I reckon?"
"Well, they sure are," said Ray. "I reckon we ought to know."
The man looked to me, as if for my verification.
"Yes, they're cannibals," I told him. And then went on to relate to him
something of the doings that night in the forest, recounting how I'd
seen Duran with the knife at the throat of the child, and the kettle for
the boiling of the human meat. And I was careful to tell him about the
grown man who had been buried alive, and in the night disinterred by the
voodoos who had torn out his heart and lungs to be devoured. I assured
him I had looked on the wife of the man, while she told the story, which
had been verified by others. My story, being fact, rang true, and I
could see the man was nine parts convinced, and not a little frightened.
A number of things had come under my observation. Our guard kept a knife
on a little ledge by the entrance to the cave, which knife he used to
cut tobacco for his pipe. And it was the practice to tie our hands tight
with thongs whenever the guard wished to leave the cave for a minute or
two. While the man, Steve--he was the weakest of the five--smoked his
pipe near the entrance and ruminated over the story I'd told him, I
whispered to Ray, giving him a plan I had for escape. Our present guard
was to remain on till the next morning, when he would be relieved by one
called Joseph Glasby.
Once, when Steve Conry came to set the thongs on our wrists preparatory
to a turn outside, Ray showed a pair of sore wrists--he had contrived
the marks--and begged that he would not pull the strings so tight as to
crucify him that way. The man was impressed, and the thongs were set a
bit looser.
When the guard was gone, Ray tugged for a moment, and--"It's easy," he
said, and he held up his hand. His hands were thin, a little easing of
the knot, and he slipped them out of the thongs. But we heard the guard
coming, and he slipped his hands back into his bonds again.
"They're a long time away," grumbled Conry. "I'm gettin' tired o' this."
"Where are they gone?" said Ray.
"They've gone to have a look at the ships--your friends' an' the other
one," he said. "There's too much o' this puttin' things on--"
His grumbling was cut short. There occurred some kind of concussion,
that shook the earth. Particles fell from the roof of the cave to the
floor.
"An earthquake!" shouted Ray.
Conry jumped erect. And the next moment he was scrambling out through
the hole.
"Now, Ray!" I said.
Ray had his hands out. He rolled to the entrance, got up to the knife.
In a half minute both of us were free of our bonds. I grasped a box of
matches, then blew out the lantern light.
Conry came crawling back into the cave.
"Humph! What's come o' the light," grunted Conry.
When he went groping for the lantern, Ray and I scrambled out. We were
astonished to find it was night, when we came into the open. We hurried
through the forest, not caring what the direction, till we should be
safely away from the region.
We made what speed we could for a considerable time amongst the
undergrowth; and when at last we came to an open space, we heard the
surf close by. And we were a good deal taken aback to see a schooner
lying at anchor, some way off from the beach, in the small harbor. The
bright moonlight showed her outlines plain to us, and she was neither
the _Pearl_ nor the _Orion_. We had traveled in a circle apparently; and
there came the shouting voice of Stephen Conry, nearby, calling his
comrades.
"We're back almost where we started from," said Ray.
"Yes," I said. "We'll have to go by the moon, now, or we'll not get
anywhere."
We plunged again into the forest, and were careful to keep the moon on
our left; this insured our holding our course in a westerly direction.
We kept, too, as much as possible to the higher ground, for the going
was easier, there being less undergrowth to tangle our feet.
We hadn't been twenty minutes struggling on, when we were startled by a
voice just before us. I seized Ray by the arm and dragged him with me
into a thick bush.
"It's just like I've been a tellin' ye. The kids' friends tried to sink
the other schooner," said the voice of Mullins.
"An' I've been axin' ye," spoke another voice, "for why would they be
suddenly--now--be wantin' to sink them. Why didn't they try it afore,
if--"
The voices were lost in the forest, as the men went back the way Ray and
I had come. We took up our march again, and a half hour had not gone
when we arrived at the western end of the island, and stood under the
cocoanut palms, looking on the two schooners, the _Pearl_ and the
_Orion_. A little breeze rippled the waters of the bay. No lights showed
on either vessel.
"Doesn't she look good?" said Ray.
"Yes," I assented. "I wish we were aboard."
I led the way up the beach to the north a piece. We wove a bit of
matting of palm fans, for a screen; and then soon had collected some dry
wood for a signal-fire. We selected our fireplace at the edge of the
palms, and so disposed the screen that the fire would be visible to the
_Pearl_ but not to the _Orion_.
A match was struck; we had a blaze. Using my shirt, I let out flash
after flash for the benefit of those on the _Pearl_; and we watched for
an answer. For a considerable time we fed the fire, signalled, and
watched. But no answering flash came. "Looks like they're dead,"
grumbled Ray.
"That Mullins didn't talk like it," I returned. "Well, they'll look this
way yet!" And I continued to signal.
Then suddenly we heard voices down the beach. Fortunately it was on the
screened side of the fire.
"Quick, Ray!" I said. And we buried the fire in sand. We grasped the
screen and fled into the brush.
"It's Mullins and his crowd again," I said.
"They've come looking for us," observed Ray.
We went a little way to the north in the forest, and came again to the
beach.
"There's a boat from the _Pearl_!" said Ray.
The boat was moving fast toward the beach.
"They're already too far in to signal them," I said. "Let's swim down
and crawl to the boat while they're talking with Mullins and his gang."
We entered the water. The little waves helped to keep our heads
invisible. We kept out from the beach till we were in line with the boat
and the group on shore. It was then we moved directly to the boat, and
got our heads close under the gunwale. I then rose close to a thole and
peeped over. The moon was fairly bright.
I could see Robert and Julian between the group and the boat. I gave a
low whistle intended to carry only so far as to the boys. Twice I
repeated it. Then Robert started. Once more I whistled low. Robert now
joined Julian, and the two came into the boat.
They made of themselves a screen for us, while Ray and I climbed in. And
we lay ourselves down under the thwarts.