ONLY four men of the Halfmoon's crew were lost in the wreck of the
vessel. All had been crowded in the bow when the ship broke in two,
and being far-flung by the forward part of the brigantine as it lunged
toward the cove on the wave following the one which had dropped the
craft upon the reef, with the exception of the four who had perished
beneath the wreckage they had been able to swim safely to the beach.
Larry Divine, who had sat weeping upon the deck of the doomed ship
during the time that hope had been at its lowest, had recovered his
poise. Skipper Simms, subdued for the moment, soon commenced to regain
his bluster. He took Theriere to task for the loss of the Halfmoon.
“An' ever we make a civilized port,” he shouted, “I'll prefer charges
ag'in' you, you swab you; a-losin' of the finest bark as ever weathered
a storm. Ef it hadn't o' been fer you a-mutinyin' agin' me I'd a-brought
her through in safety an' never lost a bloomin' soul.”
“Stow it!” admonished Theriere at last; “your foolish bluster can't
hide the bald fact that you deserted your post in time of danger. We're
ashore now, remember, and there is no more ship for you to command, so
were I you I'd be mighty careful how I talked to my betters.”
“What's that!” screamed the skipper. “My betters! You frog-eatin'
greaser you, I'll teach you. Here, some of you, clap this swab into
irons. I'll learn him that I'm still captain of this here bunch.”
Theriere laughed in the man's face; but Ward and a couple of hands
who had been shown favoritism by the skipper and first mate closed
menacingly toward the second officer.
The Frenchman took in the situation at a glance. They were ashore now,
where they didn't think that they needed him further and the process of
elimination had commenced. Well, it might as well come to a showdown now
as later.
“Just a moment,” said Theriere, raising his hand. “You're not going to
take me alive, and I have no idea that you want to anyhow, and if you
start anything in the killing line some of you are going to Davy Jones'
locker along with me. The best thing for all concerned is to divide up
this party now once and for all.”
As he finished speaking he turned toward Billy Byrne.
“Are you and the others with me, or against me?” he asked.
“I'm ag'in' Simms,” replied the mucker non-committally.
Bony Sawyer, Red Sanders, Blanco, Wison, and two others drew in behind
Billy Byrne.
“We all's wid Billy,” announced Blanco.
Divine and Barbara Harding stood a little apart. Both were alarmed at
the sudden, hostile turn events had taken. Simms, Ward, and Theriere
were the only members of the party armed. Each wore a revolver strapped
about his hips. All were still dripping from their recent plunge in the
ocean.
Five men stood behind Skipper Simms and Ward, but there were two
revolvers upon that side of the argument. Suddenly Ward turned toward
Divine.
“Are you armed, Mr. Divine?” he asked.
Divine nodded affirmatively.
“Then you'd better come over with us--it looks like we might need you to
help put down this mutiny,” said Ward.
Divine hesitated. He did not know which side was more likely to be
victorious, and he wanted to be sure to be on the winning side. Suddenly
an inspiration came to him.
“This is purely a matter to be settled by the ship's officers,” he
said. “I am only a prisoner, call me a passenger if you like--I have no
interest whatever in the matter, and shall not take sides.”
“Yes you will,” said Mr. Ward, in a low, but menacing tone. “You're in
too deep to try to ditch us now. If you don't stand by us we'll treat
you as one of the mutineers when we're through with them, and you can
come pretty near a-guessin' what they'll get.”
Divine was about to reply, and the nature of his answer was suggested
by the fact that he had already taken a few steps in the direction of
Simms' faction, when he was stopped by the low voice of the girl behind
him.
“Larry,” she said, “I know all--your entire connection with this plot.
If you have a spark of honor or manhood left you will do what little you
can to retrieve the terrible wrong you have done me, and my father. You
can never marry me. I give you my word of honor that I shall take my own
life if that is the only way to thwart your plans in that direction, and
so as the fortune can never be yours it seems to me that the next best
thing would be to try and save me from the terrible predicament in
which your cupidity has placed me. You can make the start now, Larry,
by walking over and placing yourself at Mr. Theriere's disposal. He has
promised to help and protect me.”
A deep flush mounted to the man's neck and face. He did not turn about
to face the girl he had so grievously wronged--for the life of him he
could not have met her eyes. Slowly he turned, and with gaze bent upon
the ground walked quickly toward Theriere.
Ward was quick to recognize the turn events had taken, and to see that
it gave Theriere the balance of power, with two guns and nine men in his
party against their two guns and seven men. It also was evident to him
that to the other party the girl would naturally gravitate since Divine,
an old acquaintance, had cast his lot with it; nor had the growing
intimacy between Miss Harding and Theriere been lost upon him.
Ward knew that Simms was an arrant coward, nor was he himself overly
keen for an upstanding, man-to-man encounter such as must quickly follow
any attempt upon his part to uphold the authority of Simms, or their
claim upon the custody of the girl.
Intrigue and trickery were more to Mr. Ward's liking, and so he was
quick to alter his plan of campaign the instant that it became evident
that Divine had elected to join forces with the opposing faction.
“I reckon,” he said, directing his remarks toward no one in particular,
“that we've all been rather hasty in this matter, being het up as we
were with the strain of what we been through an' so it seems to me,
takin' into consideration that Mr. Theriere really done his best to save
the ship, an' that as a matter of fact we was all mighty lucky to come
out of it alive, that we'd better let bygones be bygones, for the time
bein' at least, an' all of us pitch in to save what we can from the
wreckage, hunt water, rig up a camp, an' get things sort o' shipshape
here instid o' squabblin' amongst ourselves.”
“Suit yourself,” said Theriere, “it's all the same to us,” and his use
of the objective pronoun seemed definitely to establish the existence of
his faction as a separate and distinct party.
Simms, from years of experience with his astute mate, was wont to
acquiesce in anything that Ward proposed, though he had not the brains
always to appreciate the purposes that prompted Ward's suggestions. Now,
therefore, he nodded his approval of Squint Eye's proposal, feeling that
whatever was in Ward's mind would be more likely to work out to Skipper
Simms' interests than some unadvised act of Skipper Simms himself.
“Supposin',” continued Ward, “that we let two o' your men an' two o'
ourn under Mr. Divine, shin up them cliffs back o' the cove an' search
fer water an' a site fer camp--the rest o' us'll have our hands full
with the salvage.”
“Good,” agreed Theriere. “Miller, you and Swenson will accompany Mr.
Divine.”
Ward detailed two of his men, and the party of five began the difficult
ascent of the cliffs, while far above them a little brown man with
beady, black eyes set in narrow fleshy slits watched them from behind a
clump of bushes. Strange, medieval armor and two wicked-looking swords
gave him a most warlike appearance. His temples were shaved, and a broad
strip on the top of his head to just beyond the crown. His remaining
hair was drawn into an unbraided queue, tied tightly at the back, and
the queue then brought forward to the top of the forehead. His helmet
lay in the grass at his feet. At the nearer approach of the party to the
cliff top the watcher turned and melted into the forest at his back.
He was Oda Yorimoto, descendant of a powerful daimio of the Ashikaga
Dynasty of shoguns who had fled Japan with his faithful samurai nearly
three hundred and fifty years before upon the overthrow of the Ashikaga
Dynasty.
Upon this unfrequented and distant Japanese isle the exiles had retained
all of their medieval military savagery, to which had been added the
aboriginal ferocity of the head-hunting natives they had found there and
with whom they had intermarried. The little colony, far from making any
advances in arts or letters had, on the contrary, relapsed into primeval
ignorance as deep as that of the natives with whom they had cast
their lot--only in their arms and armor, their military training
and discipline did they show any of the influence of their civilized
progenitors. They were cruel, crafty, resourceful wild men trapped in
the habiliments of a dead past, and armed with the keen weapons of their
forbears. They had not even the crude religion of the Malaysians they
had absorbed unless a highly exaggerated propensity for head-hunting
might be dignified by the name of religion. To the tender mercies of
such as these were the castaways of the Halfmoon likely to be consigned,
for what might sixteen men with but four revolvers among them accomplish
against near a thousand savage samurai?
Theriere, Ward, Simms, and the remaining sailors at the beach busied
themselves with the task of retrieving such of the wreckage and the
salvage of the Halfmoon as the waves had deposited in the shallows of
the beach. There were casks of fresh water, kegs of biscuit, clothing,
tinned meats, and a similar heterogeneous mass of flotsam. This arduous
labor consumed the best part of the afternoon, and it was not until it
had been completed that Divine and his party returned to the beach.
They reported that they had discovered a spring of fresh water some
three miles east of the cove and about half a mile inland, but it was
decided that no attempt be made to transport the salvage of the party to
the new camp site until the following morning.
Theriere and Divine erected a rude shelter for Barbara Harding close
under the foot of the cliff, as far from the water as possible, while
above them Oda Yorimoto watched their proceedings with beady, glittering
eyes. This time a half-dozen of his fierce samurai crouched at his side.
Besides their two swords these latter bore the primitive spears of their
mothers' savage tribe.
Oda Yorimoto watched the white men upon the beach. Also, he watched the
white girl--even more, possibly, than he watched the men. He saw the
shelter that was being built, and when it was complete he saw the girl
enter it, and he knew that it was for her alone. Oda Yorimoto sucked in
his lips and his eyes narrowed even more than nature had intended that
they should.
A fire burned before the rude domicile that Barbara Harding was to
occupy, and another, larger fire roared a hundred yards to the west
where the men were congregated about Blanco, who was attempting to
evolve a meal from the miscellany of his larder that had been cast up
by the sea. There seemed now but little to indicate that the party was
divided into two bitter factions, but when the meal was over Theriere
called his men to a point midway between Barbara's shelter and the main
camp fire. Here he directed them to dispose themselves for the night as
best they could, building a fire of their own if they chose, for with
the coming of darkness the chill of the tropical night would render a
fire more than acceptable.
All were thoroughly tired and exhausted, so that darkness had scarce
fallen ere the entire camp seemed wrapped in slumber. And still Oda
Yorimoto sat with his samurai upon the cliff's summit, beady eyes fixed
upon his intended prey.
For an hour he sat thus in silence, until, assured that all were asleep
before him, he arose and with a few whispered instructions commenced
the descent of the cliff toward the cove below. Scarce had he started,
however, with his men stringing in single file behind him, than he came
to a sudden halt, for below him in the camp that lay between the girl's
shelter and the westerly camp a figure had arisen stealthily from among
his fellows.
It was Theriere. Cautiously he moved to a sleeper nearby whom he shook
gently until he had awakened him.
“Hush, Byrne,” cautioned the Frenchman. “It is I, Theriere. Help me
awaken the others--see that there is no noise.”
“Wot's doin'?” queried the mucker.
“We are going to break camp, and occupy the new location before that
bunch of pirates can beat us to it,” whispered Theriere in reply; “and,”
he added, “we're going to take the salvage and the girl with us.”
The mucker grinned.
“Gee!” he said. “Won't dey be a sore bunch in de mornin'?”
The work of awakening the balance of the party required but a few
minutes and when the plan was explained to them, all seemed delighted
with the prospect of discomfiting Skipper Simms and Squint Eye. It was
decided that only the eatables be carried away on the first trip, and
that if a second trip was possible before dawn the clothing, canvas, and
cordage that had been taken from the water might then be purloined.
Miller and Swenson were detailed to bring up the rear with Miss Harding,
assisting her up the steep side of the cliff. Divine was to act as guide
to the new camp, lending a hand wherever necessary in the scaling of the
heights with the loot.
Cautiously the party, with the exception of Divine, Miller, and Swenson,
crept toward the little pile of supplies that were heaped fifty or sixty
feet from the sleeping members of Simms' faction. The three left behind
walked in silence to Barbara Harding's shelter. Here Divine scratched at
the piece of sail cloth which served as a door until he had succeeded
in awakening the sleeper within. And from above Oda Yorimoto watched the
activity in the little cove with intent and unwavering eyes.
The girl, roused from a fitful slumber, came to the doorway of her
primitive abode, alarmed by this nocturnal summons.
“It is I, Larry,” whispered the man. “Are you dressed?”
“Yes,” replied the girl, stepping out into the moonlight. “What do you
want? What has happened?”
“We are going to take you away from Simms--Theriere and I,” replied the
man, “and establish a safe camp of our own where they cannot molest you.
Theriere and the others have gone for the supplies now and as soon as
they return we shall commence the ascent of the cliffs. If you have any
further preparations to make, Barbara, please make haste,
as we must get away from here as quickly as possible. Should any of
Simms' people awaken there is sure to be a fight.”
The girl turned back into the shelter to gather together a handful of
wraps that had been saved from the wreck.
Down by the salvage Theriere, Byrne, Bony Sawyer, Red Sanders, Blanco,
and Wison were selecting the goods that they wished to carry with them.
It was found that two trips would be necessary to carry off the bulk of
the rations, so Theriere sent the mucker to summon Miller and Swenson.
“We'll carry all that eight of us can to the top of the cliffs,” he said
“hide it there and then come back for the balance. We may be able to get
it later if we are unable to make two trips to the camp tonight.”
While they were waiting for Byrne to return with the two recruits one
of the sleepers in Simms' camp stirred. Instantly the five marauders
dropped stealthily to the ground behind the boxes and casks. Only
Theriere kept his eyes above the level of the top of their shelter that
he might watch the movements of the enemy.
The figure sat up and looked about. It was Ward. Slowly he arose and
approached the pile of salvage. Theriere drew his revolver, holding
it in readiness for an emergency. Should the first mate look in the
direction of Barbara Harding's shelter he must certainly see the four
figures waiting there in the moonlight. Theriere turned his own head in
the direction of the shelter that he might see how plainly the men there
were visible. To his delight he saw that no one was in sight. Either
they had seen Ward, or for the sake of greater safety from detection had
moved to the opposite side of the shelter.
Ward was quite close to the boxes upon the other side of which crouched
the night raiders. Theriere's finger found the trigger of his revolver.
He was convinced that the mate had been disturbed by the movement in
camp and was investigating. The Frenchman knew that the search would
not end upon the opposite side of the salvage--in a moment Ward would
be upon them. He was sorry--not for Ward, but because he had planned to
carry the work out quietly and he hated to have to muss things up with a
killing, especially on Barbara's account.
Ward stopped at one of the water casks. He tipped it up, filling a tin
cup with water, took a long drink, set the cup back on top of the cask,
and, turning, retraced his steps to his blanket. Theriere could have
hugged himself. The man had suspected nothing. He merely had been
thirsty and come over for a drink--in another moment he would be fast
asleep once more. Sure enough, before Byrne returned with Miller and
Swenson, Theriere could bear the snores of the first mate.
On the first trip to the cliff top eight men carried heavy burdens,
Divine alone remaining to guard Barbara Harding. The second trip was
made with equal dispatch and safety. No sound or movement came from the
camp of the enemy, other than that of sleeping men. On the second trip
Divine and Theriere each carried a burden up the cliffs, Miller and
Swenson following with Barbara Harding, and as they came Oda Yorimoto
and his samurai slunk back into the shadows that their prey might pass
unobserving.
Theriere had the bulk of the loot hidden in a rocky crevice just beyond
the cliff's summit. Brush torn from the mass of luxuriant tropical
vegetation that covered the ground was strewn over the cache. All had
been accomplished in safety and without detection. The camp beneath them
still lay wrapped in silence.
The march toward the new camp, under the guidance of Divine, was
immediately undertaken. On the return trip after the search for water
Divine had discovered a well-marked trail along the edge of the cliffs
to a point opposite the spring, and another leading from the main trail
directly to the water. In his ignorance he had thought these the runways
of animals, whereas they were the age-old highways of the head-hunters.
Now they presented a comparatively quick and easy approach to the
destination of the mutineers, but so narrow a one as soon to convince
Theriere that it was not feasible for him to move back and forth
along the flank of his column. He had tried it once, but it so greatly
inconvenienced and retarded the heavily laden men that he abandoned the
effort, remaining near the center of the cavalcade until the new camp
was reached.
Here he found a fair-sized space about a clear and plentiful spring of
cold water. Only a few low bushes dotted the grassy clearing which was
almost completely surrounded by dense and impenetrable jungle. The men
had deposited their burdens, and still Theriere stood waiting for the
balance of his party--Miller and Swenson with Barbara Harding.
But they did not come, and when, in alarm, the entire party started back
in search of them they retraced their steps to the very brink of the
declivity leading to the cove before they could believe the testimony
of their own perceptions--Barbara Harding and the two sailors had
disappeared.