HOW HE GOT AWAY FROM THE ISLAND.
When supper was over, Tite proceeded to give his parents an account of
the voyage, and the manner of escaping from the island with the
treasure. The reader has already heard that portion which carries the
story up to the death of old Dunman, the pirate. It will be only
necessary then to give that part of it which relates to what took place
afterward.
"Poor old Dunman," said Tite, "he was so kind to us all, and tried so
much to relieve our sufferings and make us feel contented that we all
liked him, and felt his death was a severe loss to us. There was
something so terrible in the story of his life that we used to talk
about it at night, and fancy all sorts of strange spirits haunting the
place where his money was buried. It was this that made us all impatient
to get away from the dreary place. Three or four days after we had
buried him, we removed the stones he said the gold was buried under, and
there found, as he had told us, bags and boxes of gold and silver, in
bars and coin of various kinds, heavy silver and gold ornaments that had
been plundered from churches and convents, with pearls and diamonds and
other precious stones, enough to fill two iron chests two feet square
and two feet deep. There was the thought that it was the price of so
much crime. And what good after all was this gold and silver to do us,
if we were to die on the island, like old Dunman? We divided it among
us, just as we would something of little value, not caring which got
the biggest portion. Then, after keeping out what we thought we might
want, each buried his part in separate spots, and marked the places with
piles of big stones.
"I always had a presentment that some vessel would come along, and
afford us the means of getting away; but after several months of
disappointment my companions began to despair, and saying they might as
well die one way as another, fitted up the boat, and with sails made of
prepared seal skins, and such scanty provisions as they could obtain,
set sail in search of an island described by old Dunman to be two
leagues distant, inhabited, and a place where whalers had been known to
touch. Each took two bags of gold with him, promising that if they were
successful they would return and rescue me.
"I felt, and told them they were undertaking what was sure death, and
bid them good-bye, never expecting to see them again. Week after week
and month after month passed, and nothing was heard of them. I was
alone, and nothing but the animals old Dunman had domesticated to keep
me company. As a means of attracting the attention of any vessel that
might be passing, I built a hut on a high hill near the coast, and used
to go there at night and build a fire as a signal. There wasn't a sail
came near. I had never feared death before; but to have to die on this
unknown island, with everything so strange and mysterious around me, and
never be heard of again by my parents and friends, excited all sorts of
curious fears in me. And the more I thought of it the more I wanted to
get away.
"Well, it was five months since my companions set sail. Poor Ryder, poor
Doane; these were their names. They were both young men from Cape Cod;
and as brave and true-hearted as ever lived. I got up one morning to
renew my signal-fire, and was wondering what had become of the poor
fellows, and saying to myself how foolish they were to anticipate death.
It was just in the grey of daylight. Happening to cast my eye down the
coast, I espied the dim figure of a sail advancing quietly up the coast.
I shouted for joy at the sight, not thinking or caring whether it might
bring friends or foes. The wind was light, but fair, and the little
craft, which turned out to be a taunt-rigged schooner of about a hundred
and twenty tons, came gliding along like some white-winged thing of
life, for she had a square sail and fore and main gaff-topsails set.
"Just before reaching the cove she furled her square sail and took in
the gaff-topsails--a proof that she was making port. I hastened down to
the coast, for it was broad daylight now, and watched her every
movement. She stood into the cove, rounded to, hauled down her jibs, and
dropped her anchor. The men in charge of that vessel handled her as if
they were familiar with the place. An hour passed, and no attempt was
made to land. Men appeared on deck, moving about in the quiet discharge
of their duty, but no attention was directed to the shore. Then a man
stood on the quarter with his glass raised, and scanned the shore from
point to point. Then there was an aggravating pause, and the rest of the
men seemed to disappear below. Then an increased number appeared on
deck, and began clearing the lashings from the stern boat. That was a
joyful moment, for it was a proof of their intention to land. Then the
boat was lowered away and pulled alongside, when two oarsmen got in, and
were followed by two men who sat in the stern sheets, and who turned
out to be my old companions, Doane and Ryder. Deliverance had come at
last.
"After being at sea three days and nights in the boat, they were picked
up by a New Bedford whaleship, and landed at Honolulu, where they
chartered the schooner Lapwing and returned for me. Thinking it
necessary to keep our discovery a secret, lest it might excite the
cupidity of the crew, who were all natives, we had to proceed
cautiously, and disguise our movements as much as we could. It was
decided to leave at least half of the treasure until we could find a
more secure means of removing it, as well as one less liable to excite
suspicion at the points we would be compelled to land at on our way
home.
"We got what we agreed to take away quietly on board during the night,
having filled Dunman's big old chest with shells and buried it among
them. Then each swore on oath that he would be true to the other, and
that he wouldn't make an effort to remove what remained except by mutual
agreement, and for the benefit of all equally. We disguised all our
movements so well that not even the captain of the schooner, who was an
old Spanish coaster, accustomed to suspicious transactions, mistrusted
what we were doing.
"When we got all ready, we bid adieu to No Man's Island, and set sail
for Honolulu, feeling as if we had been set free from a prison. We were
on the way home now, and that was enough to lighten our hearts. We were
three weeks getting to Honolulu; and had to remain there two months. We
wanted an American ship homeward bound, to take passage on. But as none
came, we shipped on board the British whaleship Rose, of Halifax, Nova
Scotia, with a full cargo homeward bound. We got there after a long and
stormy voyage, working our way as sailors before the mast. We were
looked on as poor, shipwrecked whalemen; and no one on board thought we
had an extra dollar in our pockets. At Halifax we found a vessel ready
to sail for New York, and took passage on her, and here I am now, home
again, and glad to get home." It was long after midnight when Tite
concluded his story; and having received once more the caresses of his
parents, he retired to the little room he had occupied when a boy, to
sleep and dream of joys that were in store for him.