Sam Steele's Adventures on Land and Sea

Chapter VII

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.”

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.