CHAPTER XXXII
A MARINER'S WITS TAKE A LITTLE FLIGHT
When Captain Horn, in the brig Miranda, with the American sailors Burke and Shirley, and the four negroes, left Acapulco on the 16th of September, he might have been said to have sailed "in ballast," as the only cargo he carried was a large number of coffee-bags. He had cleared for Rio Janeiro, at which port he intended to touch and take on board a small cargo of coffee, deeming it better to arrive in France with something more than the auriferous mineral matter with which he hoped to replace a large portion of discarded ballast. The unusual cargo of empty coffee-bags was looked upon by the customs officials as a bit of Yankee thrift, it being likely enough that the captain could obtain coffee-bags in Mexico much cheaper than in Rio Janeiro.
The voyage to the Peruvian coast was a slow one, the Miranda proving to be anything but a clipper, and the winds were seldom in her favor. But at last she rounded Aguja Point, and the captain shaped his course toward the coast and the Rackbirds' cove, the exact position of which was now dotted on his chart.
A little after noon on a quiet October day, they drew near enough to land to recognize the coast-line and the various landmarks of the locality. The negroes were filled with surprise, and afterwards with fright, for they had had no idea that they were going near the scene of their former horrible captivity. From time to time, they had debated among themselves the intentions of Captain Horn in regard to them, and now the idea seized them that perhaps he was going to leave them where he had found them. But, through Maka, who at first was as much frightened as the rest, the captain succeeded in assuring them that he was merely going to stop as near as possible to the cave where he had stayed so long, to get some of his property which it had been impossible to take away when the rest of the party left. Maka had great confidence in the captain's word, and he was able to infuse a good deal of this into the minds of the three other negroes.
Captain Horn had been in considerable doubt in regard to the best method of shipping the treasure, should he be so fortunate as to find it as he had left it. The cove was a quiet harbor in which the small boats could easily ply between the vessel and the shore, but, in this case, the gold must be carried by tedious journeys along the beach. On the other hand, if the brig lay too near the entrance to the caves, the treasure-laden boats must be launched through the surf, and, in case of high seas, this operation might be hazardous; consequently, he determined to anchor in the Rackbirds' cove, and submit to the delay and inconvenience of the land transportation of the gold.
When the captain and Shirley went ashore in a boat, nothing was seen to indicate that any one had visited the spot since the last cargo of guano had been shipped. This was a relief, but when the captain had wandered through the place, and even examined the storehouse of the Rackbirds, he found, to his regret, that it was too late for him to visit the caves that day. This was the occasion of a night of wakefulness and unreasonable anxiety—unreasonable, as the captain assured himself over and over again, but still impossible to dissipate. No man who has spent weeks in pursuit of a royal treasure, in a vessel that at times seemed hardly to creep, could fail to be anxious and excited when he is compelled to pause within a few miles of that treasure.
But early in the morning the captain started for the caves. He took with him Shirley and Maka, leaving the brig in charge of Burke. The captain placed great confidence in Shirley, who was a quiet, steady man. In fact, he trusted every one on the ship, for there was nothing else to do. If any of them should prove false to him, he hoped to be able to defend himself against them, and it would be more than foolish to trouble his mind with apprehensions until there should be some reason for them. But there was a danger to be considered, quite different from the criminal cupidity which might be provoked by companionship with the heap of gold, and this was the spirit of angry disappointment which might be looked for should no heap of gold be found. At the moment of such possible disappointment, the captain wanted to have with him a man not given to suspicions and resentments.
In fact, the captain thought, as the little party strode along the beach, that if he should find the mound empty,—and he could not drive from his mind that once he had found it uncovered, he wished to have with him some one who would back him up a little in case he should lower his lantern into a goldless void.
As they walked up the plateau in the path worn principally by his own feet, and the captain beheld the great stone face against the wall of rock, his mind became quieter. He slackened his pace, and even began to concoct some suitable remarks to make to Shirley in case of evil fortune.
Shirley looked about him with great interest. He had left the place before the great stone face had been revealed by the burning of the vines, and he would have been glad to stop for a minute and examine it. But although Captain Horn had convinced himself that he was in no hurry, he could not allow delay. Lighting a lantern, they went through the passageway and entered the great cave of the lake, leaving Maka rummaging around with eager delight through the rocky apartments where he had once been a member of a domestic household.
When they reached the mound, the captain handed his lantern to Shirley, telling him to hold it high, and quickly clambered to the top.
"Good!" he exclaimed. "The lid is just as I left it. Come up!"
In a moment Shirley was at his side, and the captain with his pocket-knife began to pick out the oakum which he had packed around the edges of the lid, for otherwise it would have been impossible for him to move it. Then he stood up and raised the lid, putting it to one side.
"Give me the lantern!" he shouted, and, stooping, he lowered it and looked in. The gold in the mound was exactly as he had left it.
"Hurrah!" he cried. "Now you take a look!" And he handed the lantern to his companion.
Shirley crawled a little nearer the opening and looked into it, then lowered the lantern and put his head down so that it almost disappeared. He remained in this position for nearly a minute, and the captain gazed at him with a beaming face. His whole system, relieved from the straining bonds of doubt and fear and hope, was basking in a flood of ecstatic content.
Suddenly Shirley began to swear. He was not a profane man, and seldom swore, but now the oaths rolled from him in a manner that startled the captain.
"Get up," said he. "Haven't you seen enough?"
Shirley raised his head, but still kept his eyes on the treasure beneath him, and swore worse than before. The captain was shocked.
"What is the matter with you?" said he. "Give me the lantern. I don't see anything to swear at."
Shirley did not hand him the lantern, but the captain took it from him, and then he saw that the man was very pale.
"Look out!" he cried. "You'll slip down and break your bones."
In fact, Shirley's strength seemed to have forsaken him, and he was on the point of either slipping down the side of the mound or tumbling into the open cavity. The captain put down the lantern and moved quickly to his side, and, with some difficulty, managed to get him safely to the ground. He seated him with his back against the mound, and then, while he was unscrewing the top of a whiskey flask, Shirley began to swear again in a most violent and rapid way.
"He has gone mad," thought the captain. "The sight of all that gold has crazed him."
"Stop that," he said to the other, "and take a drink."
Shirley broke off a string of oaths in the middle, and took a pull at the flask. This was of service to him, for he sat quiet for a minute or two, during which time the captain brought down the lantern. Looking up at him, Shirley said in a weak voice:
"Captain, is what I saw all so?"
"Yes," was the reply, "it's all so."
"Then," said the other, "help me out of this. I want to get out into common air."
The captain raised Shirley to his feet, and, with the lantern in one hand, he assisted him to walk. But it was not easy. The man appeared to take no interest in his movements, and staggered and leaned upon the captain as if he were drunk.
As soon as they came out of the utter darkness and had reached the lighter part of the cave, the captain let Shirley sit down, and went for Maka.
"The first mate has been taken sick," said he to the negro, "and you must come help me get him out into the open air."
When the negro saw Shirley in a state of semi-collapse, he began to tremble from head to foot, but he obeyed orders, and, with a great deal of trouble, the two got the sailor outside of the caves and gave him another drink of whiskey.
Maka had his own ideas about this affair. There was no use telling him Mr. Shirley was sick—at least, that he was afflicted by any common ailment. He and his fellows knew very well that there were devils back in the blackness of that cave, and if the captain did not mind them, it was because they were taking care of the property, whatever it was, that he kept back here, and for which he had now returned. With what that property was, and how it happened to be there, the mind of the negro did not concern itself. Of course, it must be valuable, or the captain would not have come to get it, but that was his business. He had taken the first mate into that darkness, and the sight of the devils had nearly killed him, and now the negro's mind was filled with but one idea, and that was that the captain might take him in there and make him see devils.
After a time Shirley felt very much better, and able to walk.
"Now, captain," said he, "I am all right, but I tell you what we must do: I'll go to the ship, and I'll take charge of her, and I'll do whatever has got to be done on shore. Yes, and, what's more, I'll help do the carrying part of the business,—it would be mean to sneak out of that,—and I'll shoulder any sort of a load that's put out on the sand in the daylight. But, captain, I don't want to do anything to make me look into that hole. I can't stand it, and that is the long and short of it. I am sorry that Maka saw me in such a plight—it's bad for discipline; but it can't be helped."
"Never mind," cried the captain, whose high spirits would have overlooked almost anything at that moment. "Come, let us go back and have our breakfast. That will set you up, and I won't ask you to go into the caves again, if you don t want to."
"Don't let's talk about it," said Shirley, setting off. "I'd rather get my mind down to marlin-spikes and bilge-water."
As the captain walked back to the cove, he said to himself:
"I expect it struck Shirley harder than it did the rest of us because he knew what he was looking at, and the first time we saw it we were not sure it was gold, as it might have been brass. But Shirley knew, for he had already had a lot of those bars, and had turned them into money. By George! I don't wonder that a poor fellow who had struggled for life with a small bag of that gold was knocked over when he saw a wagon-load of it."
Maka, closely following the others, had listened with eagerness to what had been said, and had been struck with additional horror when he heard Shirley request that he might not again be asked to look into that hole. Suddenly the captain and Shirley were startled by a deep groan behind them, and, turning, saw the negro sitting upon the sand, his knees drawn up to his face, and groaning grievously.
"What's the matter?" cried the captain.
"I sick," said Maka. "Sick same as Mr. Shirley."
"Get up and come along," said the captain, laughing. He saw that something was really ailing the black fellow, for he trembled from head to foot, and his face had the hue of a black horse recently clipped. But he thought it best not to treat the matter seriously. "Come along," said he. "I am not going to give you any whiskey." And then, struck by a sudden thought, he asked, "Are you afraid that you have got to go into that cave?"
"Yes, sir," said Maka, who had risen to his feet. "It make me pretty near die dead to think that."
"Well, don't die any more," said the captain. "You sha'n't go anywhere that you have not been before."
The pupils of Maka's eyes, which had been turned up nearly out of sight, were now lowered. "All right, cap'n," said he. "I lot better now."
This little incident was not unpleasant to the captain. If the negroes were afraid to go into the black ness of the caves, it would make fewer complications in this matter.