THE MAJOR.
Presently we shot into the opening and passed swiftly up the smooth
waters of the inlet. The hills were gradually sloping, at first, and we
could look into the tangled mass of forest that lay on either hand. But
soon the sides of the channel became rocky and precipitous, rising
higher and higher until we found ourselves in a deep gorge that wound
between gigantic overhanging cliffs. The waters of the inlet were still
smooth, but it narrowed perceptibly, all the time curving sharply to the
right and then to the left in a series of zig-zags; so that every few
minutes we seemed to be approaching a solid rocky wall, which suddenly
disclosed a continuation of the channel to right angles with it,
allowing us to continue on our course.
It was indeed necessary to watch out, in such a place as this, for we
were passing through the heart of the mountain, and could not tell from
one moment to another what lay before us.
There was barely room on each side for the sweep of the oars, so that we
had to pull straight and carefully; but after a time the deep gloom in
which we were engulfed began to lighten, and we were aware that the
slope of the mountain was decreasing, and we were approaching its
further side.
On and on we rowed, twisting abruptly this way and that, until suddenly,
as we turned a sharp corner and shot into open, shallow water, the
adventure culminated in a mighty surprise.
We were surrounded by a band of men—big, brawny fellows who stood waist
deep in the water and threw coils of rope about us before we were quite
aware of their presence. At the same time they caught the boat and
arrested its progress, jerking the oars from the hands of our rowers and
making us fast prisoners.
Only Bryonia was quicker than the men who sought to entrap him. Before
the noose could settle over his shoulders he leaped into the air and
dove headlong beneath the water. But the brave attempt to escape was all
in vain, for as he rose to the surface a dozen hands caught him and drew
him to the shore, where, despite his struggles, he was bound as securely
as the rest of us.
So unexpected was the attack and so cleverly were we mastered that
scarcely a word was uttered by our little party as we stared in
astonishment into the rough and bearded faces of our captors. Only
Captain Gay muttered a string of naughty words under his breath; the
rest were silent, and Uncle Naboth, bound round and round with rope so
that he could not move, sat in his seat and looked across at me with one
of his quaintest winks, as if he would cheer me up in this unexpected
crisis.
Nor had a word been spoken by the men who entrapped us. Wading slowly
through the water, they drew our boat to a sandy shore and beached it,
while we looked curiously around upon the scene that was now clearly
unfolded to our view.
The cliffs had ended abruptly, and the center of the island, flat and
broad, lay stretched before us. The waters of the inlet from here became
shallow, and a wide beach of strangely bright sands extended for two
hundred feet on either side of it. Then came the jungle, thick and
seemingly impenetrable, beyond which all was unknown. Straight and
without a ripple the water lay before as a full quarter of a mile,
disappearing thence into the forest.
On the thick sands of the east shore, where we now were, a number of
rude huts had been erected, shaped something like Indian tepees and made
of intertwined branches covered with leaves from the forest. These stood
in a row near to the edge of the jungle, so as to take advantage of its
shade.
But more strange than all this was the appearance of the men who had
bound us. They were evidently our own countrymen, and from their dress
and manners seemed to be miners. But nearly all were in rags and
tatters, as if they had been long away from civilization, and their
faces were fierce and brutal, bearing the expression of wild beasts in
search of prey.
One of them, however, who stood upon the beach regarding us silently and
with folded arms, was a personage so remarkable that he instantly
riveted our attention. His height was enormous—at least six feet and
three inches—and his chest was broad and deep as that of ancient
Hercules. He was bearded like a gorilla with fiery red hair, which
extended even to his great chest, disclosed through the open grey
flannel shirt. There was no hat upon his head, and he wore no coat; but
high boots were upon his feet and around his waist a leathern belt stuck
full of knives and revolvers.
No stage pirate, no bandit of Southern Europe, was ever half so
formidable in appearance as this terrible personage. He stood motionless
as a pillar of stone, but his little red eyes, quick and shrewd, roved
from one to another of our faces, as if he were making a mental estimate
of each one of us—like the ogre who selected his fattest prisoner to
grace his pot-pie.
I own that I shuddered as his glance fell upon me; and we were all more
or less disquieted by our rough seizure and the uncertainty of the fate
that awaited us.
This man—the red giant—was undoubtedly the leader of the outlaw band,
for having pulled our boat upon the beach and dragged Bryonia to a
position beside it, all eyes were turned enquiringly upon him.
He strode forward a few steps, fixed his eyes firmly upon Uncle Naboth,
and said:
“Did you leave anyone aboard the ship?”
I gave a start of surprise. The voice of the huge bandit was as gentle
and soft as that of a woman.
“No,” said my uncle.
“I guess, Major, we’ve got ’em all now,” remarked one of the men.
The giant nodded and turned again to Uncle Naboth.
“You must pardon us, sir, for our seeming rudeness,” said he, with a
politeness that seemed absolutely incongruous, coming from his coarse,
hairy lips. “My men and I are in desperate straights, and only desperate
remedies will avail to save us. I beg you all to believe that we have no
personal enmity toward you whatever.” Then he turned to his men, and
with a wave of his hand added: “Bring them along.”
[Illustration: Captured by the gold-hunters.]
Thereat we were jerked from our seats in the boat and led away over the
sands toward the edge of the jungle. I noticed that our arms and
provisions, being confiscated, were carried into one of the huts, but we
ourselves were dragged past these and through an opening in the trees
just large enough to admit us single file.
A few steps from the edge we entered a circular clearing, perhaps a
dozen paces in diameter, hemmed in on all sides by a perfect network of
tangled brushwood and vines. Here, to our great joy, we came upon our
lost comrades, all seated at the base of slender trees, to which they
were bound by stout ropes.
“Hurrah!” cried Bill Acker, a smile lighting his careworn face. “It’s a
joy to see you again, my boys, although you seem to have fallen into the
same trap we did.”
“Beg parding, Cap’n, for getting myself caught,” said Net Britton, quite
seriously. “The brutes jumped me so quick I hadn’t time to fire a shot.”
“All right, Ned; you’re not to blame,” said Captain Gay, and while we
were interchanging greetings our captors were busily engaged in securing
us to trees, in the same manner the others were bound. We protested,
very naturally, at such treatment, but the men, surly and rough,
answered us not a word, and after making sure we could not get away they
withdrew and left us alone.
As the trees to which we were fastened were at the edge of the clearing
we were seated in a sort of circle, facing one another.
“Well, boys,” said Uncle Naboth, “here’s a pretty kettle o’ fish, I must
say! The whole crew o’ the ‘Flipper,’ officers an’ men an’ supercargo,
has been caught like so many turtles, an’ turned on their backs; an’ all
we can do is to kick and wish we had our legs agin.”
We all seemed rather ashamed of ourselves. Captain Gay heaved a most
dismal sigh, and turning to Acker asked:
“Who are these people, Bill?”
“Can’t say, I’m sure, Tom. We rowed up the inlet, not expecting any
danger, when suddenly the whole lot jumped us and made us prisoners in
the wink of an eye. They brought us before a red devil called the Major,
who pumped us to find out how many men were aboard ship. When we refused
to give them any information they brought us to this place, and here
we’ve been ever since, fast bound and half starved, for I guess the
fellows haven’t much to eat themselves.”
“How did they come here?” asked my uncle.
“Really, sir,” replied Acker, “they haven’t told us one word about
themselves.”
“Fer my part,” said Ned Britton, speaking in his deliberate manner, “I
think these pirates has been spyin’ on us ever since we anchored in the
bay. They must have a path over the mountains that we don’t know of, for
when the mate come up the inlet in the gig they was ready an’ waitin’
for him, and he didn’t have a chance to resist. ’Twere the same with me,
sir. I crep’ along the edge o’ the channel, goin’ slow an’ swingin’
myself from tree to tree over the gulch—for the trees was too thick to
get between ’em—until I come to this here place, where two men grabbed
me an knocked me down an’ tied me up like a pig sent to market. The
Major were with ’em, and swore he’d murder me if I didn’t tell him how
many more were aboard the ship, an’ what her cargo was, an’ where we are
bound for, an’ a dozen other things. But I kep’ mum, sir, as were my
duty, an’ finally they brung me to this place, where I was mighty glad
to find the mate and his men safe and sound.”
We then related our own anxiety over the fate of those who had so
mysteriously disappeared, and our final expedition in search of them.
“We’ve found you, all right,” said Uncle Naboth, in conclusion; “but now
the question is, what’s goin’ to become of us, an’ what shall we do to
escape from these blamed pirates that’s captured us?”
“Before you answer that question,” said a quiet voice, “it may be as
well for you to listen to what I have to say.”
We looked up and saw the great form of the Major standing in the
clearing. How much of our conversation he had overheard we did not know;
but after a lowering glance into our startled faces he calmly seated
himself in the midst of the circle.
“Thirteen, all told,” he said. “You seem shorthanded, for so big a
schooner.”
“We lost three men in the storm,” said Uncle Naboth.
“What are you, the owner?” asked the Major.
“Part owner.”
“What is your cargo?”
“Mixed,” replied Uncle Naboth, non-committally.
The Major reflected a moment.
“We shall soon find out all we wish to know,” he said. “We have both
your boats, and we can examine the ship for ourselves.”
“I s’pose you know this is a hangin’ matter?” suggested my uncle.
“It may be,” was the calm reply. “At any rate, it is illegal, and I
regret that circumstances force us to act illegally with you. As a
matter of fact, I wish that I might have treated you with more courtesy.
But you had no business to come to this island, and having come here,
and surprised our great secret by penetrating into the center of the
land, you must take the consequences of your folly. We did not want you
here, and we kept out of your way as long as you would let us. When you
invaded our private domain we were forced to protect ourselves.”
“I don’t understand,” said my uncle, much puzzled by this speech. “We’re
no robbers, ner pirates. We’re peaceful, citizens of the United States.”
“So are we,” retorted the Major. “But we’re also the creatures of fate,
and our condition here forces us to wage warfare upon any who intrude
into our privacy.”
“We put in here for repairs, an’ it was natural we should want to
explore the island,” returned my uncle, doggedly.
The Major appeared lost in thought. For several minutes he sat staring
at the ground with a great frown wrinkling his brow. For our part, we
watched him curiously, wondering the while what would be the outcome of
the queer condition in which we found ourselves. Finally the man spoke:
“Under the circumstances,” said he, “there are but two courses open to
us. One is to murder every man of you, and bury you underneath the
sands. I imagine you would be safe there, and not a soul on earth would
ever know what had become of you.”
I shuddered. The soft tones could not disguise the horror of the words.
“The alternative,” continued the Major, “is to swear you to secrecy, to
induce you to work for us for fair wages, and finally to sail back with
you in your ship to San Francisco, where we may part good friends.”
The contrast between these propositions was so great that we stared at
the man in amazement.
“If we are to take our choice,” said Uncle Naboth, “it won’t be the
grave under the sands, you may be sure.”
“The choice does not lie with you, but with my men,” returned the Major,
coolly. “For my part, I am neither bloodthirsty nor inclined to become a
murderer; so I shall use my influence in your behalf.”
With this he slowly rose to his feet and stalked from the clearing,
leaving us to reflections that were not entirely comfortable.
The hours passed drearily enough. Toward evening some of the men brought
us a few moldy ship’s biscuits and a bucket of sweet drinking water, and
after partaking of this we were left to ourselves until the next
daybreak.
As it grew dusk Nux suddenly rose from his seat, and we saw that he was
free. In some way he had managed to slip his bonds, and he passed
quickly from one to another of us until we were all released from the
dreadful ropes that had been chafing us.
Then a council of war was held. Our captors numbered about thirty, and
all were fully armed. To attempt to oppose them openly would be madness;
but if we could manage to slip away and regain our boats we should be
able to reach our ship and so escape. Bryonia agreed to spy out our
surroundings and see where the boats lay, so he fell upon all fours and
silently crept from the clearing.
We awaited his return with impatience, but he was not gone long. He
re-entered the clearing walking upright and indifferent to crackling
twigs, and then we knew our case was hopeless.
“Dere’s men sleepin’ in de boats, an’ men on watch,” said he; “an’ dey
all has swords an’ pistols. Can’t get away anyhow, Mars Perkins.”
“How about the woods?” asked my uncle. “Can’t we escape through them?”
Bry shook his head, decisively. He was an expert woodsman, and declared
no man could penetrate the thick jungle that hemmed us in. Ned Britton
also bore testimony to this fact; so we were obliged to sadly abandon
any hope of escape, and stretched ourselves as comfortably as we might
upon the ground to await the approach of morning.
With the first streaks of day the Major and a dozen of his men arrived,
and without appearing to notice that we had slipped our bonds they drove
us in a pack from the clearing and out upon the sands that bordered the
inlet.
Here we saw others of our captors busy preparing breakfast before the
entrances to the rude huts, and it was evident that they were using the
provisions they had captured from us, for I scented the aroma of the
coffee that Uncle Naboth was so proud of, and carried with him wherever
he went.
We gathered before the hut of the Major, which was somewhat larger than
the others, and then the leader said, in a tone of stern command: “Take
off your clothes.”
We hesitated, not quite understanding the purpose of the order.
“Strip, my boys,” said another of the pirates, with a grin. “We want
your togs. We drew cuts for ’em last night, and now we’ll trade you our
rags for ’em.”
So we stripped and tossed our clothes upon the ground, where they were
eagerly seized by the outlaws and donned with great satisfaction. The
Major did not participate in this robbery; but, indeed, no garment that
we wore could possibly have fitted his huge frame.
When we had put on the rags discarded by the others we were a curious
looking lot, you may be sure. Uncle Naboth had a fit of silent merriment
at my expense, but if he could have seen himself I am sure he would have
choked and sputtered dangerously. A more disreputable appearance than
that we now presented would be hard to imagine; but our enemies did not
profit so greatly by the exchange, after all, for the garments fitted
them as badly as theirs did us. However, they seemed very proud of their
acquisition, and strutted around like so many vain peacocks.