CHAPTER X. BARBARA CAPTURED BY HEAD-HUNTERS
WHEN Barbara Harding, with Miller before and Swenson behind her, hadtaken up the march behind the loot-laden party seven dusky, noiselessshadows had emerged from the forest to follow close behind.
For half a mile the party moved along the narrow trail unmolested.Theriere had come back to exchange a half-dozen words with the girl andhad again moved forward toward the head of the column. Miller was notmore than twenty-five feet behind the first man ahead of him, and MissHarding and Swenson followed at intervals of but three or four yards.
Suddenly, without warning, Swenson and Miller fell, pierced with savagespears, and at the same instant sinewy fingers gripped Barbara Harding,and a silencing hand was clapped over her mouth. There had been no soundabove the muffled tread of the seamen. It had all been accomplished soquickly and so easily that the girl did not comprehend what had befallenher for several minutes.
In the darkness of the forest she could not clearly distinguish theforms or features of her abductors, though she reasoned, as was onlynatural, that Skipper Simms' party had become aware of the plot againstthem and had taken this means of thwarting a part of it; but when hercaptors turned directly into the mazes of the jungle, away from thecoast, she began first to wonder and then to doubt, so that presentlywhen a small clearing let the moonlight full upon them she was notsurprised to discover that none of the members of the Halfmoon's companywas among her guard.
Barbara Harding had not circled the globe half a dozen times fornothing. There were few races or nations with whose history, past andpresent, she was not fairly familiar, and so the sight that greetedher eyes was well suited to fill her with astonishment, for she foundherself in the hands of what appeared to be a party of Japanese warriorsof the fifteenth or sixteenth century. She recognized the medieval armsand armor, the ancient helmets, the hairdressing of the two-sworded menof old Japan. At the belts of two of her captors dangled grisly trophiesof the hunt. In the moonlight she saw that they were the heads of Millerand Swenson.
The girl was horrified. She had thought her lot before as bad as itcould be, but to be in the clutches of these strange, fierce warriors ofa long-dead age was unthinkably worse. That she could ever have wishedto be back upon the Halfmoon would have seemed, a few days since,incredible; yet that was precisely what she longed for now.
On through the night marched the little, brown men--grim andsilent--until at last they came to a small village in a valley away fromthe coast--a valley that lay nestled high among lofty mountains. Herewere cavelike dwellings burrowed half under ground, the upper walls andthatched roofs rising scarce four feet above the level. Granaries onstilts were dotted here and there among the dwellings.
Into one of the filthy dens Barbara Harding was dragged. She found asingle room in which several native and half-caste women were sleeping,about them stretched and curled and perched a motley throng of dirtyyellow children, dogs, pigs, and chickens. It was the palace of DaimioOda Yorimoto, Lord of Yoka, as his ancestors had christened their newisland home.
Once within the warren the two samurai who had guarded Barbara uponthe march turned and withdrew--she was alone with Oda Yorimoto and hisfamily. From the center of the room depended a swinging shelf upon whicha great pile of grinning skulls rested. At the back of the room was adoor which Barbara had not at first noticed--evidently there was anotherapartment to the dwelling.
The girl was given little opportunity to examine her new prison, forscarce had the guards withdrawn than Oda Yorimoto approached and graspedher by the arm.
"Come!" he said, in Japanese that was sufficiently similar to modernNippon to be easily understood by Barbara Harding. With the word he drewher toward a sleeping mat on a raised platform at one side of the room.
One of the women awoke at the sound of the man's voice. She looked up atBarbara in sullen hatred--otherwise she gave no indication that she sawanything unusual transpiring. It was as though an exquisite Americanbelle were a daily visitor at the Oda Yorimoto home.
"What do you want of me?" cried the frightened girl, in Japanese.
Oda Yorimoto looked at her in astonishment. Where had this white girllearned to speak his tongue?
"I am the daimio, Oda Yorimoto," he said. "These are my wives. Now youare one of them. Come!"
"Not yet--not here!" cried the girl clutching at a straw. "Wait. Giveme time to think. If you do not harm me my father will reward youfabulously. Ten thousand koku he would gladly give to have me returnedto him safely."
Oda Yorimoto but shook his head.
"Twenty thousand koku!" cried the girl.
Still the daimio shook his head negatively.
"A hundred thousand--name your own price, if you will but not harm me."
"Silence!" growled the man. "What are even a million koku to me who onlyknow the word from the legends of my ancestors. We have no need for kokuhere, and had we, my hills are full of the yellow metal which measuresits value. No! you are my woman. Come!"
"Not here! Not here!" pleaded the girl. "There is another room--awayfrom all these women," and she turned her eyes toward the door at theopposite side of the chamber.
Oda Yorimoto shrugged his shoulders. That would be easier than a fight,he argued, and so he led the girl toward the doorway that she hadindicated. Within the room all was dark, but the daimio moved as oneaccustomed to the place, and as he moved through the blackness the girlat his side felt with stealthy fingers at the man's belt.
At last Oda Yorimoto reached the far side of the long chamber.
"Here!" he said, and took her by the shoulders.
"Here!" answered the girl in a low, tense voice, and at the instant thatshe spoke Oda Yorimoto, Lord of Yoka, felt a quick tug at his belt, andbefore he guessed what was to happen his own short sword had pierced hisbreast.
A single shriek broke from the lips of the daimio; but it was so highand shrill and like the shriek of a woman in mortal terror that thewoman in the next room who heard it but smiled a crooked, wicked smileof hate and turned once more upon her pallet to sleep.
Again and again Barbara Harding plunged the sword of the brown man intothe still heart, until she knew beyond peradventure of a doubt that herenemy was forevermore powerless to injure her. Then she sank, exhaustedand trembling, upon the dirt floor beside the corpse.
When Theriere came to the realization that Barbara Harding was gone hejumped to the natural conclusion that Ward and Simms had discoveredthe ruse that he had worked upon them just in time to permit them tointercept Miller and Swenson with the girl, and carry her back to themain camp.
The others were prone to agree with him, though the mucker grumbled that"it listened fishy." However, all hands returned cautiously down theface of the cliff, expecting momentarily to be attacked by the guardswhich they felt sure Ward would post in expectation of a return of themutineers, the moment they discovered that the girl had been takenfrom them; but to the surprise of all they reached the cove withoutmolestation, and when they had crept cautiously to the vicinity of thesleepers they discovered that all were there, in peaceful slumber, justas they had left them a few hours before.
Silently the party retraced its steps up the cliff. Theriere and BillyByrne brought up the rear.
"What do you make of it anyway, Byrne?" asked the Frenchman.
"If you wanta get it straight, cul," replied the mucker, "I tink youseknow a whole lot more about it dan you'd like to have de rest of ustink."
"What do you mean, Byrne?" cried Theriere. "Out with it now!"
"Sure I'll out wid it. You didn't tink I was bashful didja? Wot fer didyou detail dem two pikers, Miller and Swenson, to guard de skirt fer ifit wasn't fer some special frame-up of yer own? Dey never been in ourgang, and dats just wot you wanted 'em fer. It was easy to tip dem offto hike out wid de squab, and de first chanct you get you'll hike afterdem, while we hold de bag. Tought you'd double-cross us easy, didn'tyeh? Yeh cheap-skate!"
"Byrne," said Theriere, and it was easy to see that
only through thestrength of his will-power did he keep his temper, "you may have causeto suspect the motives of everyone connected with this outfit. I can'tsay that I blame you; but I want you to remember what I say to you now.There was a time when I fully intended to 'double-cross' you, as yousay--that was before you saved my life. Since then I have been on thesquare with you not only in deed but in thought as well. I give you theword of a man whose word once meant something--I am playing square withyou now except in one thing, and I shall tell you what that is at once.I do not know where Miss Harding is, or what has happened to her, andMiller, and Swenson. That is God's truth. Now for the one thing thatI just mentioned. Recently I changed my intentions relative to MissHarding. I was after the money the same as the rest--that I am freeto admit; but now I don't give a rap for it, and I had intendedtaking advantage of the first opportunity to return Miss Harding tocivilization unharmed and without the payment of a penny to anyone. Thereason for my change of heart is my own affair. In all probabilityyou wouldn't believe the sincerity or honesty of my motives shouldI disclose them. I am only telling you these things because you haveaccused me of double dealing, and I do not want the man who saved mylife at the risk of his own to have the slightest grounds to doubt myhonesty with him. I've been a fairly bad egg, Byrne, for a great manyyears; but, by George! I'm not entirely rotten yet."
Byrne was silent for a few moments. He, too, had recently come to theconclusion that possibly he was not entirely rotten either, and had ina vague and half-formed sort of way wished for the opportunity todemonstrate the fact, so he was willing to concede to another that whichhe craved for himself.
"Yeh listen all right, cul," he said at last; "an' I'm willin' to takeyeh at yer own say-so until I learn different."
"Thanks," said Theriere tersely. "Now we can work together in the searchfor Miss Harding; but where, in the name of all that's holy, are we tostart?"
"Why, where we seen her last, of course," replied the mucker. "Righthere on top of dese bluffs."
"Then we can't do anything until daylight," said the Frenchman.
"Not a ting, and at daylight we'll most likely have a scrap on our handsfrom below," and the mucker jerked his thumb in the direction of thecove.
"I think," said Theriere, "that we had better spend an hour armingourselves with sticks and stones. We've a mighty good position up here.One that we can defend splendidly from an assault from below, and if weare prepared for them we can stave 'em off for a while if we need thetime to search about up here for clews to Miss Harding's whereabouts."
And so the party set to work to cut stout bludgeons from the trees aboutthem, and pile loose fragments of rock in handy places near the clifftop. Theriere even went so far as to throw up a low breastwork acrossthe top of the trail up which the enemy must climb to reach the summitof the cliff. When they had completed their preparations three men couldhave held the place against ten times their own number.
Then they lay down to sleep, leaving Blanco and Divine on guard, for ithad been decided that these two, with Bony Sawyer, should be left behindon the morrow to hold the cliff top while the others were searching forclews to the whereabouts of Barbara Harding. They were to relieve eachother at guard duty during the balance of the night.
Scarce had the first suggestion of dawn lightened the eastern sky thanDivine, who was again on guard, awakened Theriere. In a moment theothers were aroused, and a hasty raid on the cached provisions made. Thelack of water was keenly felt by all, but it was too far to the springto chance taking the time necessary to fetch the much-craved fluid andthose who were to forge into the jungle in search of Barbara Hardinghoped to find water farther inland, while it was decided to dispatchBony Sawyer to the spring for water for those who were to remain onguard at the cliff top.
A hurried breakfast was made on water-soaked ship's biscuit. Theriereand his searching party stuffed their pockets full of them, and a momentlater the search was on. First the men traversed the trail toward thespring, looking for indications of the spot where Barbara Harding hadceased to follow them. The girl had worn heelless buckskin shoes at thetime she was taken from the Lotus, and these left little or no spoorin the well-tramped earth of the narrow path; but a careful and minuteexamination on the part of Theriere finally resulted in the detection ofa single small footprint a hundred yards from the point they had struckthe trail after ascending the cliffs. This far at least she had beenwith them.
The men now spread out upon either side of the track--Theriere and RedSanders upon one side, Byrne and Wison upon the other. OccasionallyTheriere would return to the trail to search for further indications ofthe spoor they sought.
The party had proceeded in this fashion for nearly half a mile whensuddenly they were attracted by a low exclamation from the mucker.
"Here!" he called. "Here's Miller an' the Swede, an' they sure havemussed 'em up turrible."
The others hastened in the direction of his voice, to come to ahorrified halt at the sides of the headless trunks of the two sailors.
"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the Frenchman, reverting to his mother tongue ashe never did except under the stress of great excitement.
"Who done it?" queried Red Sanders, looking suspiciously at the mucker.
"Head-hunters," said Theriere. "God! What an awful fate for that poorgirl!"
Billy Byrne went white.
"Yeh don't mean dat dey've lopped off her block?" he whispered in anawed voice. Something strange rose in the mucker's breast at the thoughthe had just voiced. He did not attempt to analyze the sensation; but itwas far from joy at the suggestion that the woman he so hated had met ahorrible and disgusting death at the hands of savages.
"I'm afraid not, Byrne," said Theriere, in a voice that none there wouldhave recognized as that of the harsh and masterful second officer of theHalfmoon.
"Yer afraid not!" echoed Billy Byrne, in amazement.
"For her sake I hope that they did," said Theriere; "for such as she itwould have been a far less horrible fate than the one I fear they havereserved her for."
"You mean--" queried Byrne, and then he stopped, for the realization ofjust what Theriere did mean swept over him quite suddenly.
There was no particular reason why Billy Byrne should have felt towardwomen the finer sentiments which are so cherished a possession of thosemen who have been gently born and raised, even after they have learnedthat all women are not as was the feminine ideal of their boyhood.
Billy's mother, always foul-mouthed and quarrelsome, had been averitable demon when drunk, and drunk she had been whenever shecould, by hook or crook, raise the price of whiskey. Never, to Billy'srecollection, had she spoken a word of endearment to him; and soterribly had she abused him that even while he was yet a little boy,scarce out of babyhood, he had learned to view her with a hatred asdeep-rooted as is the affection of most little children for theirmothers.
When he had come to man's estate he had defended himself from thewoman's brutal assaults as he would have defended himself from anotherman--when she had struck, Billy had struck back; the only thing tohis credit being that he never had struck her except in self-defense.Chastity in woman was to him a thing to joke of--he did not believethat it existed; for he judged other women by the one he knew best--hismother. And as he hated her, so he hated them all. He had doubly hatedBarbara Harding since she not only was a woman, but a woman of the classhe loathed.
And so it was strange and inexplicable that the suggestion of the girl'sprobable fate should have affected Billy Byrne as it did. He did notstop to reason about it at all--he simply knew that he felt a mad andunreasoning rage against the creatures that had borne the girl away.Outwardly Billy showed no indication of the turmoil that raged withinhis breast.
"We gotta find her, bo," he said to Theriere. "We gotta find the skirt."
Ordinarily Billy would have blustered about the terrible things he woulddo to the objects of his wrath when once he had them in his power; butnow he was strangely quiet--only the firm set of his strong chi
n, andthe steely glitter of his gray eyes gave token of the iron resolutionwithin.
Theriere, who had been walking slowly to and fro about the dead men, nowcalled the others to him.
"Here's their trail," he said. "If it's as plain as that all the way wewon't be long in overhauling them. Come along."
Before he had the words half out of his mouth the mucker was forgingahead through the jungle along the well-marked spoor of the samurai.
"Wot kind of men do you suppose they are?" asked Red Sanders.
"Malaysian head-hunters, unquestionably," replied Theriere.
Red Sanders shuddered inwardly. The appellation had a most gruesomesound.
"Come on!" cried Theriere, and started off after the mucker, who alreadywas out of sight in the thick forest.
Red Sanders and Wison took a few steps after the Frenchman. Theriereturned once to see that they were following him, and then a turn in thetrail hid them from his view. Red Sanders stopped.
"Damme if I'm goin' to get my coconut hacked off on any such wild-goosechase as this," he said to Wison.
"The girl's more'n likely dead long ago," said the other.
"Sure she is," returned Red Sanders, "an' if we go buttin' into thatthere thicket we'll be dead too. Ugh! Poor Miller. Poor Swenson. It'sorful. Did you see wot they done to 'em beside cuttin' off their heads?"
"Yes," whispered Wison, looking suddenly behind him.
Red Sanders gave a little start, peering in the direction that hiscompanion had looked.
"Wot was it?" he whimpered. "Wot did you do that fer?"
"I thought I seen something move there," replied Wison. "Fer Gawd's sakelet's get outen this," and without waiting for a word of assent from hiscompanion the sailor turned and ran at breakneck speed along thelittle path toward the spot where Divine, Blanco, and Bony Sawyer werestationed. When they arrived Bony was just on the point of settingout for the spring to fetch water, but at sight of the frightened,breathless men he returned to hear their story.
"What's up?" shouted Divine. "You men look as though you'd seen a ghost.Where are the others?"
"They're all murdered, and their heads cut off," cried Red Sanders. "Wefound the bunch that got Miller, Swenson, and the girl. They'd killed'em all and was eatin' of 'em when we jumps 'em. Before we knew wot hadhappened about a thousand more of the devils came runnin' up. Theygot us separated, and when we seen Theriere and Byrne kilt we jestnatch'rally beat it. Gawd, but it was orful."
"Do you think they will follow you?" asked Divine.
At the suggestion every head turned toward the trail down which thetwo panic-stricken men had just come. At the same moment a hoarse shoutarose from the cove below and the five looked down to see a scene ofwild activity upon the beach. The defection of Theriere's party hadbeen discovered, as well as the absence of the girl and the theft of theprovisions.
Skipper Simms was dancing about like a madman. His bellowed oaths rolledup the cliffs like thunder. Presently Ward caught a glimpse of the menat the top of the cliff above him.
"There they are!" he cried.
Skipper Simms looked up.
"The swabs!" he shrieked. "A-stealin' of our grub, an' abductin' of thatthere pore girl. The swabs! Lemme to 'em, I say; jest lemme to 'em."
"We'd all better go to 'em," said Ward. "We've got a fight on here sure.Gather up some rocks, men, an' come along. Skipper, you're too fat to doany fightin' on that there hillside, so you better stay here an' letone o' the men take your gun," for Ward knew so well the mettle of hissuperior that he much preferred his absence to his presence in the faceof real fighting, and with the gun in the hands of a braver man it wouldbe vastly more effective.
Ward himself was no lover of a fight, but he saw now that starvationmight stare them in the face with their food gone, and everything belost with the loss of the girl. For food and money a much more cowardlyman than Bender Ward would fight to the death.
Up the face of the cliff they hurried, expecting momentarily to beeither challenged or fired upon by those above them. Divine and hisparty looked down with mixed emotions upon those who were ascending inso threatening a manner. They found themselves truly between the deviland the deep sea.
Ward and his men were halfway up the cliff, yet Divine had made no moveto repel them. He glanced timorously toward the dark forest behind fromwhich he momentarily expected to see the savage, snarling faces of thehead-hunters appear.
"Surrender! You swabs," called Ward from below, "or we'll string thelast mother's son of you to the yardarm."
For reply Blanco hurled a heavy fragment of rock at the assaulters. Itgrazed perilously close to Ward, against whom Blanco cherished a keenhatred. Instantly Ward's revolver barked, the bullet whistling closeby Divine's head. L. Cortwrite Divine, cotillion leader, ducked behindTheriere's breastwork, where he lay sprawled upon his belly, tremblingin terror.
Bony Sawyer and Red Sanders followed the example of their commander.Blanco and Wison alone made any attempt to repel the assault. Thebig Negro ran to Divine's side and snatched the terror-stricken man'srevolver from his belt. Then turning he fired at Ward. The bullet,missing its intended victim, pierced the heart of a sailor directlybehind him, and as the man crumpled to the ground, rolling down thesteep declivity, his fellows sought cover.
Wison followed up the advantage with a shower of well-aimed missiles,and then hostilities ceased temporarily.
"Have they gone?" queried Divine, with trembling lips, noticing thequiet that followed the shot.
"Gone nothin', yo big cowahd," replied Blanco. "Do yo done suppose dattwo men is a-gwine to stan' off five? Ef yo white-livered skunks 'udgit up an' fight we might have a chanct. I'se a good min' to cut out yocowahdly heart fer yo, das wot I has--a-lyin' der on yo belly settin'dat kin' o' example to yo men!"
Divine's terror had placed him beyond the reach of contumely orreproach.
"What's the use of fighting them?" he whimpered. "We should never haveleft them. It's all the fault of that fool Theriere. What can we doagainst the savages of this awful island if we divide our forces? Theywill pick us off a few at a time just as they picked off Miller andSwenson, Theriere and Byrne. We ought to tell Ward about it, and callthis foolish battle off."
"Now you're talkin'," cried Bony Sawyer. "I'm not a-goin' to squat uphere any longer with my friends a-shootin' at me from below an' a lotof wild heathen creeping down on me from above to cut off my bloomin'head."
"Same here!" chimed in Red Sanders.
Blanco looked toward Wison. For his own part the Negro would not havebeen averse to returning to the fold could the thing be accomplishedwithout danger of reprisal on the part of Skipper Simms and Ward; buthe knew the men so well that he feared to trust them even shouldthey seemingly acquiesce to any such proposal. On the other hand, hereasoned, it would be as much to their advantage to have the desertersreturn to them as it would to the deserters themselves, for when theyhad heard the story told by Red Sanders and Wison of the murder of theothers of the party they too would realize the necessity for maintainingthe strength of the little company to its fullest.
"I don't see that we're goin' to gain nothin' by fightin' 'em," saidWison. "There ain't nothin' in it any more nohow for nobody since thegirl's gorn. Let's chuck it, an' see wot terms we can make with SquintEye."
"Well," grumbled the Negro, "I can't fight 'em alone; What yo doin'dere, Bony?"
During the conversation Bony Sawyer had been busy with a stick and apiece of rag, and now as he turned toward his companions once more theysaw that he had rigged a white flag of surrender. None interfered as heraised it above the edge of the breastwork.
Immediately there was a hail from below. It was Ward's voice.
"Surrenderin', eh? Comin' to your senses, are you?" he shouted.
Divine, feeling that immediate danger from bullets was past, raised hishead above the edge of the earthwork.
"We have something to communicate, Mr. Ward," he called.
"Spit it out, then; I'm a-listenin'," calle
d back the mate.
"Miss Harding, Mr. Theriere, Byrne, Miller, and Swenson have beencaptured and killed by native head-hunters," said Divine.
Ward's eyes went wide, and he blew out his cheeks in surprise. Then hisface went black with an angry scowl.
"You see what you done now, you blitherin' fools, you!" he cried, "withyour funny business? You gone an' killed the goose what laid the goldeneggs. Thought you'd get it all, didn't you? and now nobody won't getnothin', unless it is the halter. Nice lot o' numbskulls you be, an'whimperin' 'round now expectin' of us to take you back--well, I reckonnot, not on your measly lives," and with that he raised his revolver tofire again at Divine.
The society man toppled over backward into the pit behind the breastworkbefore Ward had a chance to pull the trigger.
"Hol' on there mate!" cried Bony Sawyer; "there ain't no call now fergettin' excited. Wait until you hear all we gotta say. You can'tblame us pore sailormen. It was this here fool dude and that scoundrelTheriere that put us up to it. They told us that you an' Skipper Simmswas a-fixin' to double-cross us all an' leave us here to starve onthis Gawd-forsaken islan'. Theriere said that he was with you when youplanned it. That you wanted to git rid o' as many of us as you couldso that you'd have more of the ransom to divide. So all we done was inself-defense, as it were.
"Why not let bygones be bygones, an' all of us join forces ag'in' thesemurderin' heathen? There won't be any too many of us at best--Redan' Wison seen more'n two thousan' of the man-eatin' devils. They'rea-creepin' up on us from behin' right this minute, an' you can lay tothat; an' the chances are that they got some special kind o' route intothat there cove, an' maybe they're a-watchin' of you right now!"
Ward turned an apprehensive glance to either side. There was logic inBony's proposal. They couldn't spare a man now. Later he could punishthe offenders at his leisure--when he didn't need them any further.
"Will you swear on the Book to do your duty by Skipper Simms an' me ifwe take you back?" asked Ward.
"You bet," answered Bony Sawyer.
The others nodded their heads, and Divine sprang up and started downtoward Ward.
"Hol' on you!" commanded the mate. "This here arrangement don' includeyou--it's jes' between Skipper Simms an' his sailors. You're a rankoutsider, an' you butts in an' starts a mutiny. Ef you come back yougotta stand trial fer that--see?"
"You better duck, mister," advised Red Sanders; "they'll hangyou sure."
Divine went white. To face trial before two such men as Simms and Wardmeant death, of that he was positive. To flee into the forest meantdeath, almost equally certain, and much more horrible. The man went tohis knees, lifting supplicating hands to the mate.
"For God's sake, Mr. Ward," he cried, "be merciful. I was led into thisby Theriere. He lied to me just as he did to the men. You can't killme--it would be murder--they'd hang you for it."
"We'll hang for this muss you got us into anyway, if we're ever caught,"growled the mate. "Ef you hadn't a-carried the girl off to be murderedwe might have had enough ransom money to have got clear some way, butnow you gone and cooked the whole goose fer the lot of us."
"You can collect ransom on me," cried Divine, clutching at a straw."I'll pay a hundred thousand myself the day you set me down in acivilized port, safe and free."
Ward laughed in his face.
"You ain't got a cent, you four-flusher," he cried. "Clinker put us nextto that long before we sailed from Frisco."
"Clinker lies," cried Divine. "He doesn't know anything about it--I'mrich."
"Wot's de use ob chewin' de rag 'bout all dis," cried Blanco, seeingwhere he might square himself with Ward and Simms easily. "Does yo' takeback all us sailormen, Mr. Ward, an' promise not t' punish none o' us,ef we swear to stick by yo' all in de future?"
"Yes," replied the mate.
Blanco took a step toward Divine.
"Den yo come along too as a prisoner, white man," and the burly blackgrasped Divine by the scruff of the neck and forced him before him downthe steep trail toward the cove, and so the mutineers returned to thecommand of Skipper Simms, and L. Cortwrite Divine went with them as aprisoner, charged with a crime the punishment for which has been deathsince men sailed the seas.
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