The Voodoo Gold Trail

CHAPTER XVI

THE ESCAPE

"That was good business," said the leader of the five.

"And bad policy," broke in Ray.

"Shut your yap!" said the man. "And who was askin' your opines?"

"Oh, I've got a big heart for the miserable and ignorant," returned Ray.

"And a long tongue for a kid, I'm thinkin'," said the man.

"It'll be short when I get to talking to some purpose," snapped Ray.

"It's time we're shovin' them in the hole," said the leader now. "Darby, it'll be your watch first," he continued as they led us away.

In ten minutes we were at the foot of a hill, stumbling over roots, and stooping to avoid the branches.

"Now bend your backs an' come on," ordered the man in front.

We pushed through a tangle of growth, and next, stood in the cool of a cave, as we saw by the light of the lantern. It was a room fifty or sixty feet across.

"Looks like there's been an earthquake in here," observed Ray.

The dirt of the floor, for the greater part, was in irregular mounds. It was evidently done with spade and pick, for nothing else would account for the condition it was in.

"They're hunting for treasure," I said in Ray's ear.

We sat crouched against the cool of one of the heaps.

The men had squatted close to the entrance. A bottle was produced.

"Here's two fingers to the success o' this new deal," said the leader, turning the bottle bottom up in the midst of his beard.

The flask went round to the others. One said – "Here's hopin' he'll come back with the ten thousand." And another – "Here's wishin' him in h – l if he don't," as he drank.

"Well the kids' party ain't after our game, that's a comfort," said one, lighting his pipe.

"Why not turn the kids loose, an' so we'll get rid o' the whole mob o' them?"

"Why not? you says; an' you claim to have brains in that thing on your shoulders! Now didn't our man with the money say as how his success depended on keepin' the kids' party here a week, an' ain't our ten thousand dependin' on his success?"

"Well, he'll never come back with no ten thousand, success or no success."

"Maybe no, but I'm willin' to take a chance on it, since the chance is so cheap."

They soon fell into discussion of other topics.

"Granddaddy Par always said it was buried in three places. Now because some others have been before us in this cave, it's no sign they have been before us in the other places. If I hadn't been such a little kid when he showed me that map, and said as how he'd take me with him some day an' go after the stuff – it was always 'some day,' and the rheumatiz never left him till he died. As I was sayin', if I hadn't been such a little kid, I'd made a copy o' the map."

"It's queer you can't remember nothin' on the map."

"I see it in my dreams, times; but when I wakes it's all gone. But I think we're on the right track. That old harpoon grown tight in that crotch o' the tree, pointin' over to the two trees, blazed, wasn't for nothin'."

"How do ye know them's blazes on the trees?"

"It's plain ye ain't no woodsman. They ain't nothin' can cause such marks 'cept blazin'. An' the best thing about it – there ain't been no diggin' anywhere in that place."

And so they continued till the bottle was finished, and all had dozed off except the man they called Darby, who came over and had a good look at our bonds.

Ray and I were wakened by voices. The treasure-hunters were all stirring, preparing to go off to their day's digging. One they called Stephen Conry remained to be our guard. He brought us food when the others had gone.

"Now, ye'll not monkey with the ropes," said our guard, examining the knots on our limbs, after having given our hands freedom. "I'm quick on the trigger when I'm mad. So no gum games on Conry. Heed that!"

"Oh! I wouldn't part with these ropes for anything," said Ray. "I'm getting so used to them I couldn't sleep without them. I'd be afraid someone would kidnap me if I didn't have them."

The man stared, lacking humor.

"You'd be none the worse off, if you turned us loose," I told the man. "And you'll be no better off if you keep us. That man will never come back. He isn't the kind – "

"We ain't goin' to discuss that," returned the man. "We'll turn you two loose, 'none the worse off,' when the time's up, not afore." And he went back to the entrance of the cave, leaving the lighted lantern on a box.

My mind was taken with painful reveries. Our party was now facing failure again. Here had Duran got the two of us hidden in a place, our new guards declared, would never be found out by our friends. Never is a long time, you'll say. But suppose our party was to delay two or three days in the search for us? Would not Duran then be off beyond possibility of following, and so gain to the mine without fear of detection? That he had much reason to fear our pursuit there had been ample evidence. And now he had paid five thousand dollars to these men to hold us – and thus indirectly to hold all our party – for a week, that he might safely hie away to finish enriching himself from the mine of the Brills.

These reflections made me squirm with impatience. Some way must be found to accomplish escape before night, for then Duran would surely be off, and all of us undone. Our guard, I saw, kept a sharp eye out, so we durst not even look at our bonds.

A little before noon, John Mullins, the leader of the treasure-hunters, came crawling into the cave, chuckling over a bit of news.

"And what do you think, Steve? The kids' friends have been 'round, askin' if we'd seen anything of them. There was three on 'em; a big fellow with a rifle and two kids. He said it was two boys they was lookin' for. I says I ain't never seen no boys on this island 'cept them he had with him. An' then he wants to know if we'd seen some black cannibals, an' a white cannibal amongst 'em. Think o' that, Steve, cannibals!

"'Lor' bless you!' I says, 'there ain't no cannibals in this part o' the world!'

"'Well,' says he, 'you can take it from me as how there's no less'n a dozen cannibals on this here island now, an' a white skunk is their leader.' Now what do you think o' that, Steve Conry?"

"I – I don't rightly make it out," said Steve, ruminating – scratching his head. "They must o' had their bellies full when they left the kids with us to keep. Now do you suppose," went on Steve with a new thought, "as how maybe they mean to come back at the end o' the week we was to keep the kids, an' that then they're expectin' to have their appetites again, an' eat the kids – an' then eat us too, an' get back the five thousan' to boot?"

I nudged Ray at this, and got a poke in return.

"Ha! That's all bosh," laughed the other. "They ain't no more cannibals than you an' me. The feller was just tryin' to scare us – maybe thought he'd get us to help them against the black crowd – whatever the game is, but I let him see John Mullins wasn't born yesterday, and not frightened o' bogey stories. So when he saw it was no use he just moved on. Well, Steve, you go an' get your grub, an' bring a snack for the kids. We got to keep 'em fed up for the cannibals." And he laughed at his joke.

Steve disappeared through the hole, and Mullins turned to Ray and myself.

"I reckon your friends 'd pay a nice little wad to get ye back," he ventured.

"I reckon they wouldn't," I promptly told him. I began to fear he might try them, and perhaps find Julian too willing to offer a reward for us. I had another idea than that.

"Oh, you don't think they would, hey?" said Mullins, a bit taken aback by my answer. "I thought," he said, "they was kind o' keen to get ye."

The thought of that piece of indelible pencil in my pocket rose in my mind again. "Well, they might if I was to write them a note telling them to."

"Oh," said Mullins, "if you was to write them a note." He ruminated. "Now that would be tellin' them we knew where you was. Well, we'll think about it a day or two."

A day or two, I thought, wouldn't suit our book.

Steve had soon returned, and Mullins went out. Our guard came to see to our bonds; and he twisted his head in a way that told me he had something on his mind.

"These here niggers," he began, "they ain't no cannibals, I reckon?"

"Well, they sure are," said Ray. "I reckon we ought to know."

The man looked to me, as if for my verification.

"Yes, they're cannibals," I told him. And then went on to relate to him something of the doings that night in the forest, recounting how I'd seen Duran with the knife at the throat of the child, and the kettle for the boiling of the human meat. And I was careful to tell him about the grown man who had been buried alive, and in the night disinterred by the voodoos who had torn out his heart and lungs to be devoured. I assured him I had looked on the wife of the man, while she told the story, which had been verified by others. My story, being fact, rang true, and I could see the man was nine parts convinced, and not a little frightened.

A number of things had come under my observation. Our guard kept a knife on a little ledge by the entrance to the cave, which knife he used to cut tobacco for his pipe. And it was the practice to tie our hands tight with thongs whenever the guard wished to leave the cave for a minute or two. While the man, Steve – he was the weakest of the five – smoked his pipe near the entrance and ruminated over the story I'd told him, I whispered to Ray, giving him a plan I had for escape. Our present guard was to remain on till the next morning, when he would be relieved by one called Joseph Glasby.

Once, when Steve Conry came to set the thongs on our wrists preparatory to a turn outside, Ray showed a pair of sore wrists – he had contrived the marks – and begged that he would not pull the strings so tight as to crucify him that way. The man was impressed, and the thongs were set a bit looser.

When the guard was gone, Ray tugged for a moment, and – "It's easy," he said, and he held up his hand. His hands were thin, a little easing of the knot, and he slipped them out of the thongs. But we heard the guard coming, and he slipped his hands back into his bonds again.

"They're a long time away," grumbled Conry. "I'm gettin' tired o' this."

"Where are they gone?" said Ray.

"They've gone to have a look at the ships – your friends' an' the other one," he said. "There's too much o' this puttin' things on – "

His grumbling was cut short. There occurred some kind of concussion, that shook the earth. Particles fell from the roof of the cave to the floor.

"An earthquake!" shouted Ray.

Conry jumped erect. And the next moment he was scrambling out through the hole.

"Now, Ray!" I said.

Ray had his hands out. He rolled to the entrance, got up to the knife. In a half minute both of us were free of our bonds. I grasped a box of matches, then blew out the lantern light.

Conry came crawling back into the cave.

"Humph! What's come o' the light," grunted Conry.

When he went groping for the lantern, Ray and I scrambled out. We were astonished to find it was night, when we came into the open. We hurried through the forest, not caring what the direction, till we should be safely away from the region.

We made what speed we could for a considerable time amongst the undergrowth; and when at last we came to an open space, we heard the surf close by. And we were a good deal taken aback to see a schooner lying at anchor, some way off from the beach, in the small harbor. The bright moonlight showed her outlines plain to us, and she was neither the Pearl nor the Orion. We had traveled in a circle apparently; and there came the shouting voice of Stephen Conry, nearby, calling his comrades.

"We're back almost where we started from," said Ray.

"Yes," I said. "We'll have to go by the moon, now, or we'll not get anywhere."

We plunged again into the forest, and were careful to keep the moon on our left; this insured our holding our course in a westerly direction. We kept, too, as much as possible to the higher ground, for the going was easier, there being less undergrowth to tangle our feet.

We hadn't been twenty minutes struggling on, when we were startled by a voice just before us. I seized Ray by the arm and dragged him with me into a thick bush.

"It's just like I've been a tellin' ye. The kids' friends tried to sink the other schooner," said the voice of Mullins.

"An' I've been axin' ye," spoke another voice, "for why would they be suddenly – now – be wantin' to sink them. Why didn't they try it afore, if – "

The voices were lost in the forest, as the men went back the way Ray and I had come. We took up our march again, and a half hour had not gone when we arrived at the western end of the island, and stood under the cocoanut palms, looking on the two schooners, the Pearl and the Orion. A little breeze rippled the waters of the bay. No lights showed on either vessel.

"Doesn't she look good?" said Ray.

"Yes," I assented. "I wish we were aboard."

I led the way up the beach to the north a piece. We wove a bit of matting of palm fans, for a screen; and then soon had collected some dry wood for a signal-fire. We selected our fireplace at the edge of the palms, and so disposed the screen that the fire would be visible to the Pearl but not to the Orion.

A match was struck; we had a blaze. Using my shirt, I let out flash after flash for the benefit of those on the Pearl; and we watched for an answer. For a considerable time we fed the fire, signalled, and watched. But no answering flash came. "Looks like they're dead," grumbled Ray.

"That Mullins didn't talk like it," I returned. "Well, they'll look this way yet!" And I continued to signal.

Then suddenly we heard voices down the beach. Fortunately it was on the screened side of the fire.

"Quick, Ray!" I said. And we buried the fire in sand. We grasped the screen and fled into the brush.

"It's Mullins and his crowd again," I said.

"They've come looking for us," observed Ray.

We went a little way to the north in the forest, and came again to the beach.

"There's a boat from the Pearl!" said Ray.

The boat was moving fast toward the beach.

"They're already too far in to signal them," I said. "Let's swim down and crawl to the boat while they're talking with Mullins and his gang."

We entered the water. The little waves helped to keep our heads invisible. We kept out from the beach till we were in line with the boat and the group on shore. It was then we moved directly to the boat, and got our heads close under the gunwale. I then rose close to a thole and peeped over. The moon was fairly bright.

I could see Robert and Julian between the group and the boat. I gave a low whistle intended to carry only so far as to the boys. Twice I repeated it. Then Robert started. Once more I whistled low. Robert now joined Julian, and the two came into the boat.

They made of themselves a screen for us, while Ray and I climbed in. And we lay ourselves down under the thwarts.

CHAPTER XVII

JULIAN'S STORY AGAIN – THE SEARCH FOR THE LOST COMRADES

The storm had put things on the Pearl topsy-turvy. Norris' first care was for his cannon, of which he was happy to find the lashings had held. He threw off the tarpaulin.

"Ah!" he said, "she's O. K. Just a little – "

He was cut short by Robert.

"There goes a boat!" cried Robert. "And there's Wayne and Ray in it!"

"The h – l!" said the staring Norris, and he ran to where Captain Marat and two sailors were unlashing one of our boats. In a pair of minutes we had it in the water.

"Robert, Julian, Carlos," spoke Captain Marat. "We go."

Captain Marat and Carlos each took up a rifle, and the next minute we were pulling for shore. We had not covered half the distance to the beach, when we were attracted to another boat moving from the Orion, this one full of black men. Then Norris' cannon boomed. That boat full of black men took the shot in the middle and ceased to be a boat. I saw men swimming toward the Orion. Some must have been killed, though I could not tell for the debris.

"Norris got them!" Robert said, exulting.

Captain Marat's eyes danced. "Thad Englishman one ver' good man," he said.

We hurriedly pulled to the beach and sprang out. We ran down the beach a way, then pushed through the cocoanut palms and into the forest, to head off those with Wayne and Ray. But we were too late, and the forest too thick, we could not see them. We searched for hours; and then it began to grow dark, so we went back to the Pearl.

"When they got in the jungle you had no chance," said Norris, when we told of our failure. "I'll have a try in the morning," he added.

Rufe had supper on the table. While we ate, we talked over what was to be done.

"It ver' plain what Duran he want to do," said Captain Marat. "He want to hide thee boys again, an' w'en we look for them, then he sail away."

"Well it's up to us," said Norris, "to see that he doesn't sail away till we find them. Now, and I'll bet he don't!"

We divided the night into two watches; nine to twelve, and twelve to three. Norris, Robert, and I were to take the first watch, Captain Marat and Carlos that from twelve to three. We were to go in the small boat to the islet, and move along the beach to some place near the Orion, and observe any activity that might be going on there.

During that first watch all was quiet on the Orion. There was little movement on her deck, which was plainly visible in the bright moonlight. There were one or two wounded, as we could see by the conduct of those waiting on them.

It was during Captain Marat's watch that Duran returned aboard in the other boat. It was plain, Captain Marat said, that Wayne and Ray were not in the boat with him.

Day had just dawned when Norris and Robert and I climbed down into the boat to go ashore in search of the boys.

"Now, Captain Marat," said Norris, as we cast loose, "the first signs that skunk shows of clearing out, give him that shot alongside. I'll hear it an'll be back in a jiffy. And we'll soon have him out of his notion."

"All righ'," said Captain Marat. "I do like you wish."

We pulled our boat high on the beach and cut brush and covered it, to hide it and protect it from the hot sun. We searched all over the south half of the island – it was three or four miles long. We saw no signs of our two missing friends.

Near noon, we came to the eastern end of the island, where were two hills. And there we were surprised to see a schooner in a small bay. A tent was among the trees close to the beach.

"We'll have to see what's here," said Grant Norris. And he walked up and lifted the flap of the tent. "No one home, it seems," he added.

We had a good look at the schooner. Susanna showed on her bows.

"I won't be satisfied till we've had a look at the Susannians," said Norris. "We'll take a look round for them."

"Here's a new trail, going up this way," said Robert, moving toward the north.

We'd gone above half a mile, a good deal of it in forest not so thick in underbrush, when we heard voices. Then we came upon four rough-looking, bearded men, digging. They saw us, and one of them came forward.

"Good morning," said Norris. "We're looking for a couple of boys that are on this island – wonder if you've seen anything of them."

"Boys," said the man, "I ain't ever seen no boys on this island 'cept them two you got with ye."

"Well," said Norris, "maybe you've seen some black cannibals with a white cannibal among them?"

"Lor' bless you!" returned the man, "there ain't no cannibals in these parts."

"Well," said Norris, "you can take it from me, there's no less than a dozen cannibals on this here island right now, and a white skunk is their leader."

The man had no reply. He looked a little nonplused.

"Well, boys," said Norris, "I guess we'll hike along."

And we moved off, leaving the man staring after us.

It was nearing noon, so we moved directly west. We had promised to be back at mid-day.

"I don't like the looks of those men," said Robert. "And that fellow we talked with – I think he pretended to be surprised when you told him about the black men."

"They don't any of them shine with honesty, that's certain," said Norris. "We'll have to have another look at their place, and their boat."

He had some thought he didn't express.

"What do you suppose they're digging for?" I asked.

"I guess they've got a hunch there's treasure buried on this island," answered Norris. "I wouldn't wonder if this place has been dug over twenty times."

We approached a region of low, wet ground. The smell of the place was sickening. It gave me a feeling of giddiness, a nausea, and depression of spirits. Robert afterward confessed the same thing. He said it made him feel something like death and corruption was rising and surrounding him.

At last we got to our boat, and rowed aboard the Pearl. Captain Marat reported that Duran had remained on board the Orion all morning, and that the blacks had been busy putting on a new foresail.

Captain Marat and Carlos took their turn on shore, after the noon meal, to search over the north half of the island. Norris, Robert, and myself were to keep watch over the movements of Duran and his black crew.

"What do you think, boys?" said Norris, when we had seen Marat and Carlos disappear among the palms on shore. "Do you think Wayne and Ray might be on that ship of those treasure-hunters?"

"Not very likely," said Robert. "Duran has found a better hiding place. The boat is too public. But I shouldn't wonder if he hasn't some deal with those men."

"Just what I've been thinking," agreed Norris. "But if they're not found by dark we'll have to look out; the Orion will sure be trying for a getaway tonight, and we've got to prevent that. I don't think he'll try it in daylight, for he isn't so sure what we might do. But we'll have to know what he's up to."

So we three prepared to embark in the small boat. It was deep water close under the sheltering isle, so both schooners lay fairly close in to the narrow beach of it. We were soon over, and up among the brush of the hill. We found a good lookout, from which we could peer down on the deck of the Orion, where the blacks lounged lazily.

"Everything's ready for sailing," said Norris. "And there's that white cuss using his glasses to see what he can see on shore."

It was a tedious afternoon, hot, not a breath stirring. We were glad when the sun set and we saw Captain Marat and Carlos returning. We hurried back to the Pearl to meet them.

They were alone. Their faces were gloomy with failure. Not a sign of any kind had they found to encourage them. Rufe was so disappointed, tears were in his eyes.

"I jes' had a kind o' notion," he said, "you-all would a' had dem boys back wid ye dis time. I jes' been fixin' de bes' kin' o' bread puddin', de kin' dem boys was so crazy about. Dey ain't had a decen' meal for ebber so long!"

When we were at supper, and Rufe had poured a second cup of coffee all round; I heard him mumbling to himself, as he went to the galley, "I jes' goin' to save dat puddin' anyway. I ain't goin' to give up – no sah, I ain't goin' to give up." And the pudding was not forthcoming; and no one inquired for it.

Captain Marat and Carlos went to watch the Orion this time. The moon was very bright; the cocoanut palms stood out distinct on that shore to the east. Somewhere behind them lay our two friends, Wayne and Ray, and I wondered how they were faring. A light breeze sprang up after nine o'clock, and the ripples danced on the waters of the bay. It was then we saw Captain Marat and Carlos coming in the boat.