Sam Steele's Adventures on Land and Sea

Chapter XV

Meantime there had been much excitement and confusion in the camp when it was discovered that several of the men, including Nux and Bry, and even “the boy Sam,” had disappeared during the night with most of the gold dust that had been accumulated.

I can relate fairly well what occurred, for I heard the story often enough afterward.

The Major was furious with rage, at first, and sent at once for Uncle Naboth, whom he accused of being at the bottom of the plot to rob him.

Mr. Perkins was so full of his own anxieties that he paid little attention to the red–bearded giant’s ravings.

“I’m afraid Sam’s in trouble,” he said, nervously.

“In trouble! You bet he is,” yelled the Major, “I’ll skin him alive when I catch him.”

“That’s the point,” answered Uncle Naboth. “How are we to find him again? I’ll risk your hurting the boy, if we can only find out where they’ve taken him.”

“Your niggers are gone, too,” the Major reminded him.

“That’s the only thing that gives me hope, sir,” retorted my Uncle. “Those black men are as faithful and honest as any men on earth, and I’m thinking they’re gone after Sam to try to rescue him.”

“Then you think he’s been kidnapped, do you?”

“Of course. The men that are missing are the worst of your lot—the ones that have caused you the most trouble in every way. There’s not a man from the ‘Flipper’s’ crew among them. The way I figure it out is that Daggett, Larkin, Hayes and Judson have made a plot to steal all the gold, and escape with it. They robbed you first, and then they robbed Sam, and when the boy tried to make a fuss they just kidnapped him and took him along with them.”

“How about the niggers?” asked the Major, sarcastically.

“That puzzles me, I’ll admit,” acknowledged my Uncle. “Bry and Nux may have seen the thieves get away with Sam, and followed after them, to try to rescue him. That’s the only way I can figure it out just now. But we’re losing time, Major. What’s to be done?”

“Two things. Get back the gold, and shoot down the robbers like dogs. They can’t get away, you know. They’re somewhere on this Island, and I mean to find them.”

“There’s the ship.”

“What of it?”

“If they get aboard and sail away we’ll be in a bad box.”

“How can they get aboard? We’ve got the small boats.”

“They can make a raft, or even swim out to the ship,” returned Uncle Naboth, shrewdly, “I tell you, Major, you’re wasting time. Why don’t you do something?”

The Major glanced at him as if undecided whether to be angry with him or not. But Mr. Perkins was undoubtedly right, and the miners were gathering outside the door with curses and threats against the men who had robbed them, for the news had quickly spread throughout the camp.

So their leader sent six men, heavily armed, in the ship’s long–boat to board the “Flipper” and protect the vessel from being captured. These were all his own men, for he still suspected that the “Flipper’s” crew were in some way implicated in the theft.

Then he picked four miners and four of the sailors to form a party to search for the robbers, and decided to lead the band himself and to take Uncle Naboth with him. The rest of the men were ordered to resume their work of washing out gold.

“I’m going to trust you, Perkins,” said the Major, “for your loss is as great as ours, and you seem anxious over that boy of yours. But if I meet with any treachery I’ll shoot you on the spot; and if I find that Sam Steele is one of the thieves I’ll show him no mercy, I promise you.”

“Quite satisfactory, sir,” answered Uncle Naboth, calmly. “Only let us get started as soon as possible.”

It was a puzzle at first to know in which direction to look for the fugitives; but Ned Britton had been carefully inspecting the edge of the forest, and came upon one of the paths Daggett had made in the course of his various wanderings inland. It was not the one we had taken, but away they started through the thicket, on a false scent, and the entire day was consumed in a vain search.

As they sat over their camp fire at evening Ned proposed that they try the other side of the island the following day.

“It’s there where the ship lies anchored, sir,” he told the Major; “and it’s most likely the men are in that neighborhood. The paths we’ve been following today are old trails that lead nowhere in particular, and there’s no use going any further in this direction.”

This proposition was so sensible that the Major at once agreed to it, and daybreak saw them tramping through the tangled underbrush toward the opposite side of the Island. Britton, who had a good sense of direction and knew about where the ship lay, undertook to guide them, and was fortunate enough to strike the trail of the robbers about the middle of the afternoon. The tracks lay directly toward the beach, and they pressed on with renewed vigor; but the heat was terribly oppressive in the more open country they had now reached, and the men were all exhausted by the long tramp. When, a little later, the sky grew black and the storm burst upon them, they withdrew to a thick grove of trees and rigged up a temporary shelter with their blankets, beneath which they passed the night.

The storm raged all around them, and occasionally the crash of a fallen tree startled their nerves; but the high cliff broke the force of the wind and the lightning was less severe than it was directly on the coast.

Uncle Naboth thought of me more than once during this rage of the elements, and hoped I was safe from harm; indeed, his anxiety was so great that he scarcely closed his eyes throughout the night.

At daybreak they left their shelter and gazed wonderingly at the scene of devastation around them. The storm had wrought fearful havoc everywhere, and when they resumed their journey their progress was necessarily slow and difficult.

Still they labored on, and in the afternoon passed through the forest and came upon the coast directly opposite the place where the “Flipper” still rode at anchor under bare masts. She seemed to have escaped all danger from the storm, and although the sea was still rolling high the good ship nodded her prow to each wave with a grace that betokened she was still in good condition.

“Well, boys, the robbers haven’t got her yet!” cried Uncle Naboth, delightedly.

“No; but they’ve had a try for it already,” said the Major, significantly, as he pointed to a half–finished raft that had been lifted high by the waves of the previous night and wedged fast between two great trees. “Evidently the scoundrels don’t know we have sent a squad to guard the ship.”

“We’re on their trail, all right,” remarked Ned Britton, after examining the crudely constructed raft carefully. “But where do you suppose they are?”

“Somewhere on the coast, of course,” said Uncle Naboth. “Let’s walk up the edge of the bay to the inlet, and see if they’re in that direction.”

So they made for the inlet, failing, of course, to find any traces of the thieves. They were seen from the deck of the “Flipper” by the men who had been sent aboard in the long boat, and the Major signaled them to remain where they were for the present.

After a brief halt the little band retraced their steps to examine the coast in the other direction, and another night overtook them within hailing distance of the rocky peak where I and my two blacks were resting beside our newly acquired bridge to await impatiently the morning. But the Major’s party was, of course, unaware of this, and went into camp in a hollow where the light of their fire was unobserved by us.

At daybreak, however, Uncle Naboth and Ned Britton were up and anxiously exploring the coast; and presently they saw, a little distance away, the tall form of Bryonia walking carefully across our tree trunk. The black almost fell into the arms of Uncle Naboth, as he stepped off the tree and the old man’s first anxious question was:

“Where’s Sam?”

“Here I am, Uncle!” I called from my rock. “I’ll be with you in a minute, but we’ve got to get the gold over first.”

“The gold!” cried Uncle Naboth, in amazement. “Have you got it, then, after all?”

“To be sure,” said I, with a touch of pride, “every grain of it!”

Uncle Naboth groaned.

“I didn’t think as you’d do it, Sam, my boy,” he said regretfully.

“I couldn’t have done it, without Nux and Bry,” I answered, not understanding that I had been accused of the theft.

The old man turned reproachfully to Bry, who stood grinning beside him.

“Did I ever teach you to steal, sir?” he demanded, sternly.

“Takin’ gold from robbers ain’t stealin’,” replied the black, in a calm tone.

“What robbers?”

“Daggett, an’ Pete, an’——”

“Oh, I see!” exclaimed Uncle Naboth, a light breaking in upon his confused mind. “They stole the gold from the camp, I suppose, and you and Sam have followed them up, and got it back again?”

“That’s it, exactly, Uncle!” I declared from my side of the precipice, where I could hear every word spoken. “I’ll tell you the whole story bye and bye.”

Just then I was wondering if I dared cross the tree. It seemed very frail, and the rounded trunk was difficult to walk upon. Should I lose my balance there were only a few slender branches to cling to in order to keep from toppling over into the gulf below.

Bry saw my dilemma, however, and running lightly across the tree again he caught me up bodily and perched me upon his broad shoulders.

“Hold fast, Mars Sam,” he called, and the next moment stepped out fearlessly and, while Uncle Naboth held his breath in grim suspense, the black crossed the swaying tree and dropped me safely on the other side.

The old man had barely time to grasp both my hands in a warm clasp when the big Major came up, blowing and sputtering, with the balance of the party.

“Well, where’s the rest o’ the thieves?” he cried out, glaring fiercely at me and then at Bry.

“Under that rock, sir,” I answered gravely, with a shudder at the recollection of their dreadful punishment; and then, in as few words as possible, I told the story of our adventures, relating how we had followed the robbers and recovered the gold, and of the great storm that had sent the rocking–stone hurling into the chasm to seal up the evil band in a living tomb.

Even the Major was impressed by the weird tale, and Uncle Naboth wiped the sweat from his brow as he leaned over the cliff and marked the immense wedge of rock that had closed forever the mouth of the cavern.

“It seems there’s no one left to punish,” growled the red–beard, in a low voice; “and I’m glad the fate of those scoundrels was taken out of my hands. As for you, young man,” turning suddenly to me, “you’ve acted splendidly, an’ so have the niggers. Let’s shake hands all ’round!”

I felt my face turn as red as the Major’s whiskers at this unexpected praise.

“Hooray!” yelled Ned Britton, and the others joined him in a mighty shout of approval.

Then Ned and Bry crossed the tree to where Nux was still standing on the peak, and hoisted the loaded trousers to Bryonia’s back. Nux crossed over in front and Ned Britton behind the bearer of the precious gold, to save him if he made a misstep; but their caution was unnecessary. The big Sulu was as sure–footed as a goat, and safely deposited his burden at the Major’s feet. Then we all returned to the near–by camp for breakfast, after which, the gold being taken from the trousers and distributed into several small packages, that they might be more easily carried, Nux was given his leg–coverings again, to his infinite satisfaction.

“And now,” said the Major, “we’ll make tracks for the camp. We’ve been away a long time, but we’ve got the gold back, and got rid of the worst characters among the lot of us; so there’s nothing much to grumble over, after all.”