The orgie in the cabin was continued until nearly daylight, and during
all that long, weary time the boys could talk to, but not with, their
companions.
They were the only ones who had been left ungagged, and were free to
discuss the matter, but without being able to elicit a single answer.
“It isn’t hard to fancy how the whole thing has occurred,” Gil said to
Nelse; “but the question is, what do they propose to do with us?”
“We shall find out mighty soon, I reckon, and the part which has the
most interest for us is whether they will cut our throats or content
themselves with simply making us walk a plank, after the fashion of
oldtime pirates. I counted on finding the buccaneers’ treasure when we
started, but I didn’t suppose we should find the buccaneers themselves.”
While the boys indulged in this rather mournful style of conversation,
the other prisoners writhed to and fro in the vain effort to slip their
bonds, and at each useless attempt Gil would look around, wondering if
it were not possible to aid them in some way.
“Because we can speak, it seems as if we should be able to do
something,” he said, after his father had literally exhausted his
strength trying to get his hands free. “I’ve read in stories of fellows
who could chew ropes apart, but I don’t know how to set about it.”
“That’s because such a thing isn’t possible,” Nelse replied, very
decidedly. “We can’t so much as move, and, as for getting our heads
where it would be possible to bite at the bonds, it is simply out of
the question. After this I shall never believe in those yarns.”
“It might be done, if I could raise myself sufficiently to get at the
ropes.”
“That is a great, big ‘if’ under these circumstances, and I shall put
all those stories down as foolish lies after this night.”
It was as if the desire to aid tired the boys, for before this
conversation had been continued half-an-hour both were perspiring
profusely, while they felt weary, although having remained inactive.
It was a relief for all hands when the golden shafts of light which
came over the water proclaimed the rising of the sun, and the revelers
emerged from the cabin to complete their act of piracy.
The leader lost no time in acquainting his prisoners with the fate in
store for them.
Coming toward the hatch with unsteady movements, which told only too
well how his time had been occupied, he first ordered that the gags
should be removed, and then said to Captain Mansfield:
“I ’low it seems kinder rough for us to turn you out, but that’s what
we’ve decided to do, an’ there’s no use in kickin’ up rusty about it.”
“Do you mean that we’re to be set adrift after doing all we could
to relieve your distress?” the captain asked, huskily, for the gag
had been in his mouth so long that it was difficult to speak with
sufficient distinctness to make himself understood.
“That’s about the size of it,” the man replied, with a drunken leer.
“There’s jest a chance we might get into trouble at Nassau, because the
_Mary and Jane_ was lost----”
“Then you are responsible for the destruction of that craft, eh?”
“Hold your tongue, or you may be askin’ questions that’ll get you into
trouble, for my mates won’t stand any nonsense.”
“Then cut your own talk short. You have committed a deed which will
eventually bring you to the gallows, and there is no reason why there
should be any delay in finishing the job like the pirates that you
are,” Captain Mansfield said, impatiently.
“That’s exactly what we’re goin’ to do. Search the crowd for fear
they may have revolvers with them,” the man said, with an assumption
of authority, which would have been comical under less desperate
circumstances.
But few moments were required in order to execute this command, and
when the work was concluded the helpless men had been robbed of
everything valuable upon their persons.
Captain Mansfield no longer attempted to speak; it was as if his
anger was too great to admit of words, but he watched jealously every
movement made by his enemies.
The sun was flooding the sea with a golden radiance when the mutineers
lowered one of the boats, put into her a small cask of water and some
provisions, and then stood as if waiting for the rightful crew of the
_Day Dream_ to take their departure.
At such a time resistance would have been worse than useless, and, when
his bonds had been removed, the captain said, as he walked toward the
rail:
“I warn you that the time will come when this high-handed proceeding
must be atoned for, and, if you have any regard for your own necks, you
will give us more of a show for life.”
“What do you want now?” the leader asked, with an oath.
“Two boats, and something to serve as sails. With eight people on board
one of these little tenders the first strong puff of wind will send her
to the bottom. Give us as good a show as you would want for yourselves.”
“It’s a precious sight better than you deserve,” was the brutal reply,
as the helpless ones were hurried over the rail, their united weight
loading the craft down to the gunwales.
From the time the gag had been removed until he clambered into the
boat old Andy had not spoken; but when the painter was cast off and
the schooner began to draw away from them, his anger burst forth in a
torrent of threats and reproaches.
He called down all manner of curses on the heads of sailors who would
turn pirates immediately after having been rescued from such a desolate
spot as the key, and predicted the result of these high-handed
proceedings in language so energetic that Captain Mansfield said,
sharply:
“Be quiet, Andy. You are doing them no harm, and couldn’t better our
condition if you talked all day.”
“I’se gwine ter let sich low down trash know wha’s ercumin’ to ’em.”
“They’ll know it soon enough without any assistance from you. Just now
we’ve something more important to think about, for unless we can make
harbor on one of the keys which lie hereabouts before a heavy blow
comes on, our chances for living will be pretty slim.”
“Isn’t there any hope we can get our things back?” Nelse asked,
ruefully. “The thieves have even taken my watch.”
“I don’t fancy we shall see even the smallest portion of our property
again,” the captain replied, with what was very like a sigh. “They will
get to fighting among themselves, and wreck the little craft before
long, unless, which is not likely, a war vessel happens to overhaul
them.”
“Shall we get out the oars?” Mr. Jenkins asked. “We should be near
Spanish or Powel Key, and by rowing to the eastward it ought to be
possible to run the land down by sunset.”
“You are right, and it’s to be turn and turn about for all hands.
Unfortunately only two can work at a time, because we have no more
oars, and the tricks shall be an hour for each man.”
From this moment until nearly nightfall but little conversation was
indulged in; each occupant of the boat had been robbed of all his
effects, and this, in addition to the outrage, was well calculated to
make them feel the reverse of cheerful.
The wind, which had so much weight in it at sunrise, died away entirely
about ten o’clock, and the heat was most intense. Not even the lightest
breath of air came off the glassy water, and one hour was quite as long
as the strongest could remain at the oars.
At three o’clock in the afternoon a well-wooded key was seen dead
ahead, and two hours later the victims of their own charitable act were
on shore.
“We will stay here twenty-four hours,” Captain Mansfield said, as the
boat was pulled up into a narrow cove which extended some distance
inland, and terminated in a veritable thicket of mangroves. “Then we’ll
work our way down the bank in the night, when we sha’n’t be so nearly
prostrated by the heat.”
It was a great relief to the boys to be able to stretch their legs on
shore, and when a spot was cleared that all might lie down without fear
of being disturbed by centipedes or similar disagreeable things, they
began to think the situation was not as grave as it might have been.
A hearty meal of ship’s bread and canned meat was followed by a desire
to sleep, and the entire party lay down to rest, for it was not
necessary to stand watch.
Toward midnight the wind sprang up from the eastward, but only to die
away again a few hours later, and Captain Mansfield said to the mate,
in a tone of satisfaction, as the two arose just as day was breaking:
“If there were any vessels nearby last evening we should get a glimpse
of a sail when the sun rises, for that breeze must have given them a
slant toward this key.”
“By swarming up one of the largest trees we can have quite a range of
vision, and something ought to be heaving in sight before night. I’ll
stand the first trick.”
“With nothing else to---- Hark!”
As the captain spoke a creaking sound was heard, and he finished the
sentence by saying, joyfully:
“It seems that we sha’n’t have long to wait. There is some kind of a
craft becalmed within a quarter of a mile of the shore.”
“There can be no question about that. Shall we hail her?”
“It isn’t necessary. She can’t get away until the breeze springs up,
and we may as well know who we are asking for assistance. I am not
putting as much faith in my fellow-man as I was before our experience
of yesterday.”
The two walked down the bank of the cove to the beach, where a full
view of the seaboard could be had, and there waited for the rising sun
to show them the newcomer.
The shaft of radiance soon came out of the sea, gilding each crestless
wave with a glory of brightness, and revealing to the watchers the
spars of a jaunty-looking schooner so near the land that it seemed as
if one could have tossed a pebble on her deck.
Mr. Jenkins stood staring at the little craft in open-mouthed
astonishment as if doubting the evidence of his own senses, until
Captain Mansfield pulled him roughly back into the shelter of the
foliage, as he whispered excitedly:
“It’s the _Day Dream_ herself.”
“For a moment I thought my eyes were playing me a trick,” the mate
said, with a long-drawn breath of bewilderment. “What are we to do?
Show ourselves?”
“Not yet. We must form a plan of action, for if this calm holds until
noon the little craft shall be in our possession again.”