Transcriber’s Notes:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_), and text
enclosed by equal signs is in bold (=bold=).
Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.
* * * * *
[Illustration: “Gil led his cousin forward.” See page 42.]
THE SECRET CHART
OR
TREASURE HUNTING IN HAYTI
BY
LIEUT. JAMES K. ORTON
Author of “The Last Chance Mine,” “Beach Boy Joe,” etc.
[Illustration]
PHILADELPHIA
DAVID McKay, PUBLISHER
610 SOUTH WASHINGTON SQUARE
* * * * *
Copyright, 1902
By STREET & SMITH
The Secret Chart
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I.--A Discovery 5
II.--At Sea 13
III.--A Message 21
IV.--The Castaways 29
V.--Mischief 37
VI.--Mutiny 45
VII.--Set Adrift 53
VIII.--Turning the Tables 61
IX.--Bound South 69
X.--Hayti 77
XI.--Conjectures 85
XII.--A Strange Spectacle 93
XIII.--In Trouble 101
XIV.--The Cave 109
XV.--A Discovery 117
XVI.--Andy 125
XVII.--A Successful Scheme 133
XVIII.--Treasure Hunting 141
XIX.--The Wreck 149
XX.--The Underground Passage 157
XXI.--A Trap 165
XXII.--Run to Cover 173
XXIII.--Secret of the Cave 181
XXIV.--The Treasure Chamber 189
XXV.--To the Rescue 197
XXVI.--A Pitched Battle 205
XXVII.--Under Cover 213
XXVIII.--A Second Alarm 221
XXIX.--In the Tunnel 229
XXX.--The Story 237
XXXI.--An Opportune Arrival 244
XXXII.--The Departure 252
* * * * *
THE SECRET CHART.
CHAPTER I. A DISCOVERY.
Near the mouth of Spuyten Duyvil Creek the yacht _Day Dream_ lay at
anchor on a certain day in September, two years ago.
The driving rain only served to give her white hull, with its trimmings
of gold, an additional luster, bringing into yet bolder relief the
polished mahogany and walnut inboard woodwork.
Two sailors and an old colored steward remained below to escape an
unnecessary wetting, and the fifty-ton beauty tugged at the cable as
if trying to escape from her moorings before her caretakers should be
aware of the fact.
On the river bank, half-hidden by a clump of trees, was the old stone
house owned by Henry Mansfield, formerly a captain in the China trade,
but now retired. Having accumulated considerable wealth, he believed it
would be more pleasant to remain ashore permanently; but, after a short
time of idleness, his love for the sea returned with redoubled force,
and, as a result, the _Day Dream_ was purchased.
On her the captain spent considerably more than half his time, and now
the little craft was provisioned for a long southern cruise, much to
the delight of the owner’s son Gilbert, and his nephew, Nelson Duncan,
who had, after no slight difficulty, succeeded in gaining permission to
make the voyage.
The boys were on shore overhauling their traps, preparatory to leaving
early next morning, and having considerable trouble in deciding just
what should be left behind.
“We’ve laid out a big pile of stuff,” Gilbert said, as he surveyed the
guns, fishing tackle, clothes, and a general assortment of odds and
ends, which both he and his cousin had thought would be necessary to
their comfort and pleasure during the voyage; “but if we throw anything
out, it will be just what we may want most when the yacht is at sea.”
“But how are we to get so much aboard?”
“In case your trunk and mine won’t hold it all, there’s an old chest in
the attic, which will be the very ticket. If it doesn’t stop raining
pretty soon, we’ll have to get a piece of tarpaulin to cover them while
going out to the schooner.”
That the old chest would be needed was learned very soon, and Gil said,
with a sigh:
“There’s no question but that something must be left. We’ll pack the
most important, and then decide as to the rest. Come on, it won’t take
long to overhaul what is in the attic.”
The only idea in the minds of the boys was to secure that which would
serve as a receptacle for their goods until the same could be carried
to the schooner, and, on finding the well-worn chest, it was only
natural to first make sure that it was empty.
The rusted lock was fastened, and, eager to complete the work as soon
as possible, Gil knocked the hasp off by kicking at it, after which the
lid was thrown open.
At first glance one would have said that it contained nothing, but on
turning it upside down several articles rolled out.
Idle curiosity, rather than a belief that anything important would be
found, caused the boys to pick up the contents, and Nelse cried, as he
went toward the window:
“Say, Gil, here’s a piece of an old newspaper, containing what appears
to be an old story. Where did the chest come from?”
“I don’t know. Read what you have found, if it is interesting.”
“There is a long account here, but if you can keep quiet a few moments,
I’ll make it out, in spite of the many creases and the dirt.”
Then Nelse began the following:
“North of that wild promontory which projects itself into the tropic
waters of the Mexican Gulf at the northwestern extremity of Hayti,
and four miles to seaward of the ancient town, lies a rocky inlet
known as Tortuga de Mar. In size and aspect it is insignificant. Yet,
lilliputian and unfamiliar though it now is, it gave birth to the most
merciless and picturesque class of marine cutthroats known to history.”
“Keep that until we start,” Gil said, impatiently, as his cousin paused
to take a long breath. “Just now we want to get our traps aboard,
instead of reading some musty tale.”
“Wait a moment, and find out what it means. We’ve got plenty of time,”
Nelse said, and then he continued:
“Back in the opening decades of the seventeenth century adventurous
criminals from throughout the Antilles began to collect on the islet,
and in a few years Tortuga became the recognized headquarters of the
Spanish Main. From it as from a fever germ went out a fire of blood,
piracy, and lawlessness which spread over the waters of the Western
World.
“Tortuga was settled in the first years of this century by Spanish
pioneers from the island known as Hispanola, or ‘Little Spain.’ It was
given the fanciful name of Tortuga de Mar, ‘The Sea Tortoise,’ from its
resemblance in shape to that amphibian. The settlers were a worthy and
simple folk, for the most part fishermen, who, for a few months in the
twelve, varied life by hunting the wild cattle which fed in the wooded
coast lands.
“Scarcely had they become well established on the Tortoise, when, one
morning in May, 1632, they were mystified at the sight of a pinnace
load of strange seamen landing on the key which faces the mouth of
their harbor. Fifteen restless spirits from the French colony of St.
Christopher had, with the adventurous recklessness which marked that
day and those waters, set out for the best location which fortune
and a west wind should put in their way. They were allowed to put up
sapodilla shelters at the harbor mouth, and also to shoot their French
bullets into wild bulls on the opposite coast.
“In a few weeks it became evident that the rascally strangers could
slaughter and _boucan_ more beeves in a day than the entire Spanish
community could in three. _Boucanning_, by the way, was a peculiar
process of curing flesh by jerking, salting, and drying in the
sunshine, the term being derived from an aboriginal word applied by
the cannibal Caribbes to the curing of human flesh. Such was the skill
of the intruders in converting the bulls into a superior, merchantable
product by means of the _boucan_ that the Spanish derisively applied
the native word to them.
“As Tortuga lay directly in the path of European vessels bound for
Mexican ports, the fifteen Frenchmen immediately built up a thriving
business in _boucanned_ beef. Doubloons, pieces-of-eight, and moidores
became to them as shells or seabeans to the Spanish fishermen. Word
went back apace to St. Christopher, throwing that island into such an
uproar that the craze to go _a-boucanning_ carried its most unruly
seamen to the Tortoise.
“Frenchmen came down upon the islet like a swarm of mosquitoes, and
overran it before the simple Spanish folks could recover from their
astonishment. Ominous growlings were heard among the original settlers,
but for such trivial matters as round Spanish oaths the intruders cared
never a whit. Just before dawn, December 1, 1633, the Spanish islanders
met at the plaza of their little town, and descended headlong upon the
intruders at the _boucanning_ beaches. Then began a massacre, during
which the intruders were cut down wherever found.
“Immediately after this the _boucanning_ foreigners formed themselves
into a band composed of a collection of couples. Each two hunters made
common property of all possessions of either. They bound themselves
by every oath to an imperishable brotherhood. Each swore to avenge
with death any insult offered to the other. The two hunted and lived
together by day, slept together by night, and were as one flesh; and
always as the band ranged the coast valleys, grew the purpose of
avenging the Tortuga massacre.
“A few months later the Frenchmen took the islanders by surprise. A
carnival of butchery ensued. When it was completed the village was
burned. The most lawless of the murderers was one Pierre Le Gros, a
sailor of oxlike frame and weight, hailing originally from Dieppe,
who, with twenty-seven fellow spirits, stole a small sloop from a
Tortugan skipper, and started on a nautical foray on whatsoever Spanish
merchantmen fate might cast in his course.
“The act was of sufficient gravity to daunt even the chosen crew of
cutthroats captained by Pierre, had the proposed prey been anything
but Spanish, since it was plain piracy. For two days the sloop ran on
before a northerly wind, swinging down into the Caribbean Sea, but
sighting no craft. On the third afternoon out Pierre spied a galleon,
one of the Panama pearl fleet, which had been separated from its sister
vessels in a recent hurricane. Until night shut down, he craftily kept
away toward the windward horizon. Then, under cover of the darkness,
he swiftly and silently approached, coming alongside at daybreak. The
entire twenty-eight buccaneers boarded the galleon, leaving their sloop
adrift.
“Six men rushed headlong to the gunroom, taking immediate possession.
Six more went to the clumsy steering apparatus, while Pierre, with the
remaining fifteen, hove the morning watch overboard and made for the
cabin. On bursting into the captain’s room, Pierre found the worthy Don
playing at cards with his officers, and discussing a goodly measure of
Madeira.
“Before the captain could speak, the pirates swarmed into the
apartment, and covered the group with their pistols. In less than three
minutes the prize was theirs. The crew were marooned, and the galleon
taken to France, where, she and her cargo quickly disposed of, the
buccaneers left with all speed to rendezvous at the Tortuga.
“When the intelligence of this exploit reached the Tortoise, the entire
island was thrown into a hubbub. Nothing was thought of but to go
buccaneering for galleons. Brig after brig and ship after ship were
fitted out, and in a year this species of piracy became a recognized
business. Ten years later the Spanish commerce in these waters had been
almost entirely destroyed. The sea was forsaken for the richer prizes
on land. The rich capital of Campeche was sacked, to be, in turn,
followed by Panama, and the curers of beef had become such a power as
to attract the attention of every nation.”
“Is that all?” Gil asked, as Nelse ceased reading.
“Every word, and it isn’t such a bad sort of story, except that there’s
not more than half enough. I wonder why your father has been keeping it
in the chest?”
“I don’t believe he knew it was here. But look at the rest of this
stuff! Do you suppose these have anything to do with the piece of
newspaper?”
As he spoke, Gil picked up the other articles, and he and Nelse were
gazing at them in perplexity when Captain Mansfield entered the attic.