While the men cleared the decks and rigged up a jury mast under the supervision of the mate, Captain Gay took our bearings and ascertained that we had not departed so greatly from our course as we had feared. Yet it was impossible to make the mouth of the Yukon in our present condition, or even to reach a shelter in Bering Sea. It was found, however, that the Alaska peninsula was not far away, so we decided to draw as near to that as possible, in the hope of meeting a passing vessel or finding a temporary refuge on some one of the numerous islands that lie in this part of the North Pacific.
For four days we labored along, in our crippled condition, without sighting land; but then our fortunes changed. During the night a good breeze from the southwest swept us merrily along, and when daylight came we found ourselves close to a small, wooded island. It lay in the form of a horse-shoe, with a broad, protected bay in the center, and Captain Gay, anxious to examine his ship more closely, decided at once to enter the harbor and cast anchor.
This was by no means an easy task, for long lines of reefs extended from each point of the shore, almost enclosing the bay with jagged rocks. But the sea was calm and the position of the reefs clearly marked; so that by skillful maneuvering the “Flipper” passed between them in safety, and to the relief and satisfaction of all on board we dropped our anchor in the clear waters of the bay.
CHAPTER VI.
THE LAND OF MYSTERY.
Captain Gay examined his chart with minute care, and solemnly shook his head.
The island was not there. Either the chart was imperfect, or we had reached a hitherto undiscovered land. The latter conjecture was not at all unreasonable, for so many islands lay in this neighborhood that even when sighted by chance an outlying islet was little liable to tempt one to land upon it. This was doubtless one of the numerous group lying to the south-east of the Alaska peninsula, which are of volcanic origin and as a rule barren and uninhabited.
I have said this island was well wooded, but not until we were opposite the mouth of the natural harbor did we observe this fact. From the sea only a line of rugged headlands and peaks showed plainly, and had we not been in distress we should never have thought to stop at this place. Once within the harbor, however, the scene that met our view was not unattractive.
Bordering the bay was a sandy beach a full hundred yards in width, broken only by an inlet toward the left, or south, which seemed to lead into the interior of the island, winding between high and precipitous banks and soon becoming lost to sight. Back of the beach was the clean-cut edge of a forest, not following a straight line, but rising and falling in hills and ravines until it seemed from the bay to have been scalloped into shape by a pair of huge scissors. The woods were thick and the trees of uniform size, and between them grew a mass of vines and underbrush that made them almost impenetrable. How far the forest extended we were unable to guess; nor did we know how wide the island might be, for back of the hills rose a range of wooded mountains nearly a thousand feet in height, and what might lie beyond these was of course a matter of conjecture. Uncle Naboth, however, advanced the opinion that the island ended at the mountain peaks, and dropped sheer down to the sea beyond. He had seen many formations of that sort, and supposed we had found the only possible harbor on the island.
There was no apparent indication that the island had ever before been visited by man. Even signs of native occupation were lacking. But Captain Gay decided to send a small boat ashore to explore the inlet before we could relax all vigilance and feel that we were not liable to attack or interruption.
So the gig was lowered, and four of the crew, accompanied by Bill Acker, the mate, set off upon their voyage of discovery. They rowed straight to the inlet, which proved to be navigable, and soon after entering it we lost sight of the boat as it wound between the wooded cliffs.
We waited patiently an hour; two hours; three hours; but the boat did not return. Then patience gave way to anxiety, and finally the suspense became unbearable. After the loss of our three sailors during the storm we were reduced to eleven men, besides Uncle Naboth and myself, who were not counted members of the crew. Thirteen on board was not an especially lucky number, so that some of the men had been looking for disaster of some sort ever since we sighted the island. Those now remaining on the “Flipper” were the Captain, Ned Britton and two other sailors, Nux and Bryonia, my Uncle and myself; eight, all told. To send more men after the five who were absent would be to reduce our numbers more than was wise; yet it was impossible for us to remain inactive. Finally, Ned Britton offered to attempt to make his way through the woods, along the edge of the inlet, and endeavor to find out what had become of Acker and his men. He armed himself with two revolvers and a stout cutlass, and then we rowed him to the shore and watched him start on his expedition.
Not expecting that Ned would be long absent, we did not at once return to the ship. Instead, the Captain backed the boat into deep water and lay to, that we might pick up our messenger when he reappeared.
It had been agreed that if Ned came upon the mate he was to fire two shots in quick succession, to let us know that all was well. If he encountered danger he was to fire a single shot. If he wished us to come to his assistance he would fire three shots. But the afternoon passed slowly and quietly, and no sound of any kind came from the interior to relieve our anxiety. The boat returned to the ship, and Bryonia served our supper amid an ominous and gloomy silence on the part of those few who were left.
There was something uncanny about this mysterious disappearance of our comrades. Had they been able to return or to communicate with us there was no doubt they would have done so; therefore their absence was fraught with unknown but no less certain terror. Big Bill Acker was a man of much resource, and absolutely to be depended upon; and Ned Britton, who had been fully warned and would be on his guard against all dangers, was shrewd and active and not liable to be caught napping.
What, then, had they encountered? Wild beasts, savages, or some awful natural phenomenon which had cruelly destroyed them? Our imaginations ran riot, but it was all imagination, after all, and we were no nearer the truth.
An anxious night passed, and at daybreak Uncle Naboth called a council of war, at which all on board were present. We faced a hard proposition, you may be sure, for not one of us had any information to guide him, and all were alike in the dark.
To desert our absent friends and sail away from the island was impossible, even had we desired to do so; for our numbers were too small to permit us to work the disabled “Flipper” in safety, and the ship’s carpenter, on whom we greatly depended, had gone with the mate. All repairs must be postponed until the mystery of the men’s disappearance was solved; and we firmly resolved that those of us remaining must not separate, but stick together to the last, and stick to the ship, as well.
Good resolutions, indeed; but we failed to consider the demands of an aroused curiosity. After two days had dragged their hours away without a sign of our absent comrades human nature could bear the suspense no longer.
Uncle Naboth called another council, and said:
“Boys, we’re actin’ like a pack o’ cowards. Let’s follow after our friends, an’ find ’em, dead or alive. We oughtn’t to shrink from a danger we sent ’em into; and if we can’t rescue ’em, let’s run the chance of dyin’ with ’em.”
This sentiment met with general approval. All felt that the time for action had arrived, and if there was a reluctant man among us he made no sign.
Early next morning we partook of a hasty breakfast and then tumbled into the long boat to begin our quest. Every one on the ship was to accompany the expedition, for no one cared to be left behind. Uncle Naboth at first proposed to leave me on board, in the care of Bry; but I pleaded hard to go with the rest, and it was evident that I would be in as much danger aboard as in the company of the exploring party. So it was decided to take me along, and we practically deserted the ship, taking with us a fair supply of provisions and plenty of ammunition. The men were fully armed, and my uncle even intrusted me with a revolver, for I had learned to shoot fairly well.
It was a beautiful morning, cool and fresh and sunny, as we rowed away from the ship and headed for the inlet. That unknown and perhaps terrible dangers lay ahead of us we had good reason to expect; but every man was alert and vigilant and eager to unravel the mystery of this strange island.
CHAPTER VII.
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.”
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.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE SANDS OF GOLD.
The sun had now arisen and flooded the scene with its glorious rays. We were given some of the coffee and a scant allowance of food for our breakfast, the care with which the latter was doled out being evidence that our captors did not know that the “Flipper” was loaded down with provisions.
As soon as the meal was concluded we all gathered around the Major’s hut again, and he began to make us an address.
“At the conference held last evening,” he began, in his smooth tone, “we decided to allow you to choose your own fate. It is death on the one hand, and life as our paid employees on the other. What do you say?”
“We’d like to know, sir,” said Uncle Naboth, “what you are doing on this island?”
“Washing gold.”
“Gold!”
“To be sure,” said the Major. “Are you so ignorant that you cannot see that these sands upon which you are standing are wonderfully rich in gold?”
“Why, I hadn’t noticed,” said my uncle, and then we all curiously stared at the bright billows of sand that filled the beach on both sides of the inlet.
“It will do no harm to explain to you how we came here, and what we are doing,” said the Major. “It will help you to make your decision.”
“Seems like a queer place to look for gold,” said Uncle Naboth, reflectively. “But even then I can’t see why you’ve treated us like you have, or why you’re so blamed secret about the thing.”
“Can’t you?” was the reply. “Then I must jog your reason with a few sensible suggestions. Every gold field yet discovered has been a magnet to draw men from every part of the civilized world. The result has been that the first discoverers seldom profit to any extent, while the horde they draw around them get the lion’s share. That has been our experience time and time again, for every member of our band is an experienced miner. We’ve been crowded from Colorado to Idaho, from Idaho to California, from California to the Black Hills, and back again. Finally we got word of a rich find of gold in Alaska; so, banding together, we chartered an old ship and started for the Yukon. On the way we encountered a gale that blew us to this island. We don’t know what island it is, and we don’t care. While our vessel was undergoing repairs we rowed up the inlet, as you did, and discovered these sands, which are marvelously rich with grains of pure gold. Before your eyes, gentlemen, lies the greatest natural accumulation of gold the world has ever known.”
He paused, after this impressive statement, and again we looked around wonderingly.
“We can’t get it all, that’s true,” resumed the Major; “but we have decided to stay here and defend our secret until each one of us has secured an independent fortune. Then the swarms of gold-hunters can settle here as thickly as they please. Of course we had our tools with us, and a good supply of provisions; so we were glad to let Alaska take care of itself and go to work washing out the wealth that lay at our feet. We knew the food wouldn’t last till we were ready to leave here, so we decided to send the ship home for more provisions. The captain was bound to secrecy by promise of a big share for himself, but soon after he sailed away a great storm arose, and probably the old, leaky craft never weathered it, for that was over a year ago, and no ship has reached this harbor until yours appeared.”
We listened to this recital with eager interest, for it explained much that had puzzled us. And Uncle Naboth remarked:
“It’s a strange story, sir. But I don’t see why you treated us as enemies when we came here.”
“Suppose you had been prospectors, like ourselves. What would become of our secret then?”
“But we’re not,” was the reply.
“It was even possible our captain might have reached shore and betrayed us. In that case you might be the forerunners of an army of invaders. We couldn’t take the chances, sir. We’ve been disappointed too many times. But it appears that you were merely the victims of the elements, and like ourselves were driven to this shore in a gale. So the only danger to be feared from you is your getting away before we’re ready to go with you. That was why we hesitated between murdering you and using your services to enable us to accomplish our task sooner than we otherwise could. We are not cut-throats, believe me, nor do we care to be responsible for the death of so many decent men. But the lust for gold has made my fellows desperate, and with immense fortunes within their grasp they will stick at nothing to protect themselves and their treasure.”
“That’s only natural,” growled Uncle Naboth.
“I’m glad to find you so reasonable,” said the Major. “Having discovered this field ourselves, we do not intend to share the gold with anyone; but we will make you a reasonable proposition. We will pay each one of you two dollars a day, in grains of gold, for your labor, and you must buckle to and help us to get out the gold. We will also pay you, in gold, for whatever provisions you have on your ship, or other supplies we may need. And when we have enough to satisfy ourselves, and are ready to sail back to civilization, we will pay you a reasonable price for passage in your ship. That seems to me to be fair and square. What do you say?”
“Why,” answered Uncle Naboth, with a gasp, “that’s all we could look for if we got to Alaska. We’re traders, sir, an’ expect to make our money in trade. The only thing we object to is workin’ like dogs to wash gold for somebody else.”
“You’ll have to put up with that objection,” returned the man, dryly. “Your labor will shorten our stay here a full year, and it’s the penalty you must suffer for being in our power.”
My uncle turned to his crew.
“What do you say, boys?” he asked.
Some grumbled, and all looked grave; but a glance at the lowering faces of the miners assured them that discretion was the better part of valor, so they yielded a reluctant consent to the arrangement.
“There’s one p’int, howsomever, as I should like to argufy,” said Uncle Naboth. “This here lad’s too small an’ delicate to work at the washin’, an’ somebody’s got to give out the provisions an’ collect the pay for ’em. Let him out o’ the deal, sir, an’ make him clerk o’ the supplies.”
“I will agree to that,” said the Major, promptly. “When we get back to the States we don’t want to have anything against our record; so this bargain shall be kept faithfully on our side. I’ll prepare a paper, which every man here must sign, stating that you accept the agreement freely and without compulsion, and will be satisfied with your wages and the payment for your groceries and supplies. Also you must each one take an oath not to betray to anyone the whereabouts of this island after you leave it, for it will be a valuable possession to us even after we’ve taken enough gold from it to make us rich. Meantime you’ll be well treated, but carefully watched. To some extent you’ll be, morally, our prisoners; but the only hardship you will suffer is to labor hard for a few months at a small salary.”
“That’s agreeable, sir,” said my uncle; and the men accepted the arrangement with more or less grace.
Then the conference broke up. Our sailors, as well as Captain Gay, the mate and my uncle, were at once set to work washing gold on the banks of the inlet, their numbers being distributed among the miners, who showed them what to do and supervised the work. It appeared that all the gold gathered by our people was to go into a common pot, to be distributed equally among our captors; but each miner worked for himself alone, and was entitled to whatever he secured. In this way a premium was set upon individual industry, and they worked eagerly and persistently, at the same time insisting that the “Flipper’s” crew did not loiter.
The Major, whose influence over his rough comrades was undoubted, retired within his tent to draft the paper we were to sign, and I, left to my own devices, wandered here and there, watching the men and wondering what would be the outcome of this singular adventure.
At noon the paper was ready, and it set forth clearly and fairly the terms of the agreement. We were all required to sign it, as well as every miner in the camp, and then the Major took possession of it, there being no duplicate.
After the midday meal six of our sailors were selected to man the long boat, and then accompanied by the Major, who was fully armed, and by myself, they rowed down the inlet to the harbor, and we boarded the ship.
I selected such of the provisions as were most needed by the half starved miners, and also carried away a number of blankets, as the nights were chill and the blankets would prevent much suffering.
Two trips we made that afternoon, and when the miners stopped work for the day I had quite a heap of groceries piled upon the sands. Instantly they surrounded me, clamoring for supplies, which I served to each man as he demanded them.
They paid me in grains of pure gold, which they drew from sacks, old stockings tied with a string, and even pockets cut from their clothing. How much to demand I did not know, and some paid me too much, I suppose, and some too little. One of them, a low browed, black bearded fellow called Larkin, obtained a quantity of goods and then said he would pay me some other time; but the Major insisted that I be paid then and there. So the man laid down a pinch of gold, saying it was enough, and I was about to accept it when the Major drew his revolver and said, quietly:
“This is a fair deal, Larkin. Shell out!”
The fellow uttered a string of angry oaths, but he added to his first offering until his leader was satisfied, and then went away vowing “to get even with the robbers.”
To avoid further trouble, I brought a small pair of scales from the ship next day. They were not very accurate, I fear, but they were much better than guesswork. The Major and I figured out exactly what weight of gold should stand for a dollar, and I was allowed to put my own price on our supplies; but I took care not to be exorbitant in my demands, and most of the men expressed themselves as well satisfied with the arrangement.
As a good share of the provisions would suffer by being left out in the night air, it was decided to build a warehouse for my use: “a reg’lar grocery store,” Uncle Naboth described it; so the men all set to work, and under the direction of our ship’s carpenter soon constructed a roomy and comfortable hut for this purpose. By repeated trips to the ship in the long boat, I soon accumulated a good stock of everything our cargo represented, and by taking off the covers of the boxes and then piling them on their edges, in rows, I soon made my hut look like a prosperous mercantile establishment. Surplus and unopened boxes were utilized to form a counter in front of my stock, and here I placed my scales and weighed the gold that was offered in payment.
The men were as prodigal as all miners are, and denied themselves nothing so long as they had gold to pay for it. So my stock gradually increased in gold and diminished in merchandise, and the men were well fed and comfortable.
But the sands upon which we so carelessly trod were wonderfully rich in the precious metal, and any sort of industry was sure to be repaid enormously by the glittering grains scattered about. It was not dust, you understand, but tiny grains resembling those of granulated sugar. The richest yield was derived from the sands at the bottom of the shallow inlet, and the practice of the miners was to wade a little way into the stream, scoop up a basin off the sandy bottom and wash it until only the specks of sparkling metal remained. As it was difficult to care for this properly, I brought from the ship a quantity of sail-cloth, which I made, during my leisure moments, into stout bags, about the size of salt-sacks, sewing the seams firmly. These bags I sold readily to the miners, who, when they filled one, would usually bury it beneath the sand in their hut, so that it would be safe. I did not do this with my supply, however, but piled my sacks into an empty box in one corner of my grocery store, feeling sure there would be no theft of them in the confines of our little camp. Neither did the Major secrete his hoard, which lay plainly in sight of anyone who entered his hut; and the Major’s store of gold was enormous because he took charge of all that our men washed out, until the time for final division should arrive.
There was no game of any sort, that we knew of, upon the island; but the men caught plenty of fish in the upper part of the inlet and in the bay upon the ocean frontage. The thickets surrounding our camp were considered absolutely impenetrable, on account of the underbrush and creeping vines that formed such a thick network at the foot of the trees. Yet there was a man named Daggett who, it was rumored, had found a way to traverse the forest with comparative ease.
This Daggett was quite a remarkable person, and enters now into my story.
He was a thin, withered little man, about fifty years of age who had been an unsuccessful miner all his life until now. So eager was he, at first, to take advantage of the great opportunities here afforded to secure a fortune, that he would work by moonlight washing gold, while his companions slept and rested from their labors. But soon he conceived an idea that these golden sands were deposited from some point in the mountains of the interior of the island, where solid gold abounded in enormous quantities. So he quit washing, and began a search for the imaginary “mountain of gold,” cutting a secret path through the thicket to the more open interior, and passing day after day in his eager quest. At first he urged some of his comrades to join him, but they only laughed at his idea, being well content to obtain the coveted gold in an easy way, where it lay plainly before their eyes.
But Daggett did not desist, spending day after day in roaming through the wild hills in his fruitless search. During the time he lost in this way his mates were accumulating a vast store of golden grains, while Daggett was as yet only in possession of the result of his first eager labors; and after I opened my grocery store he was obliged to exchange pinches of his small substance for supplies, so that it gradually dwindled away to a mere nothing. He haggled so over the price of every article he secured that his fellows jeered him unmercifully, calling him “the miser” and berating him for neglecting his opportunities. Indeed, the poor fellow was well-nigh desperate, at the last, for he alone of all the camp was still poor, and his only salvation, he considered, was to find the hills of solid gold before the time came for all to abandon the island. So he was gone for days, returning to camp to secure provisions; and no one knew where he wandered or seem to care.