WE ABANDON THE SEARCH.
The five men I had left on the island had certainly done their work
well. The doctor had made an excellent leader, and had organised all
the operations capitally. They had toiled hard, and had kept up their
spirits all the while, and, what is really wonderful under
circumstances so calculated to try the temper and wear out patience,
they had got on exceedingly well with each other, and there had been
no quarrelling or ill-feeling of any sort.
The ravine had been very thoroughly explored, and we felt that there
was but little chance of our finding the treasure. It was highly
improbable that the massive golden candlesticks of the Cathedral of
Lima would ornament our homes in England. It was decided, however,
that, if the weather permitted, we should stay here another three
weeks or so, and--as we were satisfied that the treasure could not be
at the first bend of the ravine--that we should dig in such other
spots as appeared suitable hiding-places, and would be naturally
selected for the purpose by a party of men landing in this bay.
The shore-party were glad of a holiday on the yacht after all their
labours and privations, and no attempt was made to take the whale-boat
through the surf again that day. All hands stayed on board for the
night, and on the following morning, as the sea was still breaking too
heavily on the beach of South-west Bay to permit of a landing, I
proposed to my companions that we should take another holiday and go
for a picnic on the water. The cook, was, therefore, instructed to
prepare an especially good dinner, and, after shaking the reefs out of
our mainsail, we proceeded to circumnavigate the island, keeping as
close to the shore as we were able, so that we could have a good view
of the scenery.
We sailed by the different points which we now knew so well--the Ness,
the Pier, the Ninepin--and at last doubled North Point. This extremity
of the island is extremely wild and desolate, and is utterly
inaccessible. Many of the sharp pinnacles which cap the mountains are
out of the perpendicular, and lean threateningly over the sea. I have
already explained that the different species of birds occupy different
portions of the island; the crags by North Point are inhabited by the
frigate-birds and sea-hawks.
We coasted along the weather side of the island, and when we were
nearly opposite to the Portuguese settlement the wind dropped and we
had to man the whale-boat and tow the yacht seaward; for we found that
she was gradually sagging before the swell towards the reefs, on which
the sea was breaking heavily. We could not get round the island, so
sailed back, before a very light wind, to South-west Bay, and hove to
as usual for the night.
Work was resumed the next day, and a boat-load of stores was sent on
shore. The newly-formed sandbank which I have mentioned appeared to
increase and become a more serious obstacle to landing every day. On
this occasion the boat again drove her stem into the sand as she
crossed this shoal, and the next wave swamped and capsized her, so
that boat, men, and stores were tumbling about in the deep water
between the sandbank and the shore.
They managed to haul the boat safely up, and, by diving in the surf,
recovered a good many of the tins of food. Then the boat returned to
the yacht, Joe being left alone in the camp. He did not relish this at
all, for, like most black men, he was very afraid of ghosts, and had
come to the conclusion that Trinidad was a place more than usually
haunted by unsettled spirits. He told us that if he were left alone on
shore for the night his only course would be to light a ring of fires
and sit in the middle, with a tight bandage round his head, keeping
awake till dawn. If he failed to take these precautions he would most
certainly be torn to pieces, or otherwise seriously damaged, by the
spirits. We took compassion on him and did not leave him to face the
terrors of the darkness alone. In the afternoon the whale-boat
returned to the bay, and Pollock swam on shore to remain with him.
A description of what happened for the next few days would be merely a
repetition of what has gone before. The yacht was hove to at night,
and sailed about the mouth of the bay all day. The surf was always
breaking dangerously on the sands, so that it was impossible to beach
the boat, and the men had to swim to and fro from whale-boat to shore,
or haul themselves along a line which we had rigged up for the
purpose, and which was carried from a rock on shore to a buoy moored
with the ship's kedge outside the breakers. We used also to haul the
provisions on shore with a line, having lashed them to the bamboo
rafts which we had constructed for this purpose.
The weather became so unsettled and the surf was so invariably high
that, after a few days, we came to the conclusion that the sooner we
left the island the better, and we decided to take the first
favourable opportunity for bringing off our property from the shore.
The bad season was approaching--if it had not already commenced--and
if we waited much longer we might find it impossible, for months at a
time, to carry off stores or men. The yacht only remained hove to for
eleven days after the shore-party had first boarded us, and during
that time the men with me on the vessel were employed in setting up
the rigging, rattling down the shrouds, and effecting all necessary
repairs.
There was nearly always a high swell running now, which was especially
uncomfortable when there was no wind, for then we would often roll
scuppers under. For nearly a week it was quite impossible to beach the
boat, and all communication with the shore had to be effected in the
way I have described above. At last, on February 13, luckily for us,
it was exceptionally calm in South-west Bay, so that it would be very
easy to carry off our stores.
Such a chance was not to be lost. In the morning all hands went off in
the boats, with the exception of myself and Wright, who stayed on
board to work the vessel. A landing was effected without any
difficulty, and the boats returned with heavy loads, bringing off the
hydraulic jack, the guns, the bedding, and other articles.
I, of course, wished to see what work had been done, before giving my
final decision as to the continuance or abandonment of our
exploration--not that there was any doubt as to what that decision
would be, after I had heard the doctor's report. In the afternoon I
went off in the whale-boat, and landed on the island for the first
time for forty-eight days, leaving the doctor in charge of the yacht
while she lay hove to outside the bay. I had not put foot on shore
here for so long that I was astonished at the aspect of the ravine,
which had been completely changed in my absence by the labours of my
comrades.
I stood and contemplated the melancholy scene--the great trenches, the
piled-up mounds of earth, the uprooted rocks, with broken wheelbarrows
and blocks, worn out tools, and other relics of our three months' work
strewed over the ground; and it was sad to think that all the energy
of these men had been spent in vain. They well deserved to succeed,
and all the more so because they bore their disappointment with such
philosophic cheeriness.
It was, obviously, quite useless to persevere any further in this vain
search, especially as the difficulties of landing had so increased of
late that our operations could only be conducted at a great risk to
life. So the fiat went forth--the expedition was to be abandoned; we
were to clear out of Trinidad, bag and baggage, as quickly as we
could.
We returned to the yacht with a good load of stores, the condensing
apparatus, and the faithful Jacko. After dinner we sailed round to the
cascade and hove to off it. I remained on board with Wright while all
the other hands went off in the boats and obtained six casks of water
to replenish the ship's now nearly empty tanks. This was altogether a
most satisfactory day's work, and we were very well pleased with
ourselves when we hove to at sunset and drifted out to the ocean for
our well-deserved night's rest.
On the following morning--Friday, 14th--we tacked to the north of
South-west Bay, and found that, though there was more surf than on the
previous day, landing was feasible. The boat went off under the
doctor's charge, and the tents and all the remaining stores were
brought safely on board. Nothing of any value was left; we not only
carried off our own tools, but also the picks that had been used by
Mr. A----'s expedition. Only broken wheelbarrows and such like useless
articles remained in the ravine. From the vessel the only sign of our
late camp that could be seen was Powell's disabled armchair, which he
had left standing, a melancholy object, on the top of the beach.
We stowed the heavier tools and stores under the saloon floor and then
sailed again to the cascade. The whale-boat went off to the pier and a
quantity of water was brought on board, so that we had a sufficient
supply--but not much to spare--for the voyage we now contemplated.
When the watering-party returned we had done with Trinidad; so both
boats were hoisted on deck, and a melancholy ceremony was performed:
our very ancient dinghy, which was too rotten to bear any further
patching, and was not worth the room she used to take up on deck, was
broken up and handed over to the cook as firewood.
A tot of rum was served out to each hand, we bade farewell to
Trinidad, the foresail was allowed to draw, and we sailed away.
It had long since been decided that, whether the treasure was
discovered or not, we should sail from our desert island to its
wealthy namesake, Trinidad in the West Indies--a very different sort
of a place. The distance between the two Trinidads is, roughly, 2,900
miles; but we knew that the voyage before us was not likely to be a
lengthy one, for everything is in favour of a vessel bound the way we
were going. In the first place, it was very unlikely that we should
encounter head winds between our islet and Cape St. Roque, and from
that point we should most probably have the wind right aft for the
rest of the way, as the trade-winds blow regularly along the coasts of
north Brazil and the Guianas. In the next place, by sailing at a
certain distance from the land, we could keep our vessel in the full
strength of the south equatorial current, which runs at the rate of
two or three miles an hour in the direction of our course. We had, it
is true, to cross the line once more, with its belt of doldrums; but
we knew that we should not be much delayed by these tedious equatorial
calms, as they do not prevail on the coast of Brazil to anything like
the extent they do in mid-Atlantic; besides which, the favourable
current would be carrying us along with it across the belt, and enable
us to travel fifty miles or so a day, even in a flat calm.
This kindly current would, indeed, carry us straight to our port, for
it sweeps through the Gulf of Paria as well as by the east side of
Trinidad, and, as every schoolboy knows in these enlightened days,
thence flows round the Caribbean Sea and ultimately emerges from it
under another and better-known title--the Gulf Stream.
With the old 'Falcon' I had sailed over a portion of this route,
accomplishing the voyage from Pernambuco to Georgetown, Demerara--a
distance of about 2,000 miles--in ten days, thus keeping up an average
of 200 miles a day. At this rate the 'Alerte' ought to get to Trinidad
in fifteen days; but we were not fated to have such luck as that.