The G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  The captain pointed to an opening to their left.

  A band of men were advancing.

  They were guarding a prisoner—a white man, who walked in their midst.

  Bob gave the white man one swift look, and then shrieked out at the top of his voice:

  “It’s my father!”

  CHAPTER XIII

  The Big Polar Bear

  “Your father!” cried Captain Sumner.

  “Yes, my father,” repeated Bob, in high excitement. “What shall we do?”

  He felt like rushing forward, but the captain restrained him.

  “We can do nothing against such a force of men,” he said. “Wait—or—” He hesitated.

  “What?”

  “You or I might go back to the Dart for help. Every man on board can come heavily armed. When these people see our number they may be willing to talk reasonably to us.”

  “That’s so, but I hate to leave,” returned Bob. “They may do some harm to my father in the meantime.”

  “Then I will go, Bob. But mind, keep shady, unless they do something very bad.”

  Bob promised, and without delay Captain Sumner started on the return to the Dart.

  With a wildly beating heart Bob watched the people who held his father a captive.

  They were marching along silently now and did not stop until the center of the cave of ice was reached.

  Here the party assembled in a circle at a point where there was a slight elevation.

  Two of the men had axes, and with these they began to chop at the elevation, causing the pieces of ice to fly in all directions.

  “Now what are they going to do?” thought our hero.

  Presently he heard a slight noise behind him. Somewhat startled, he turned around to find himself face to face with a monstrous polar bear!

  The beast had just discovered Bob. For a moment he stood still.

  Then with a growl he leaped directly for the astonished youth.

  Had Bob not sprung out of the way the bear would have landed on his head.

  But Bob moved with the quickness of lightning, and this saved his life.

  The bear, however, came down so close to the boy’s side that our hero had no time left to fire at him.

  He struck the bear one hasty blow with his gun stock and then ran for dear life.

  Recovering, the huge beast came after him.

  Although a heavyweight, the bear managed to cover the ground with incredible swiftness.

  Down the side of the icy hill went Bob, with the bear less than a dozen feet in the rear.

  The plain below reached, Bob scarcely knew which way to turn.

  The bear uttered growl after growl, showing that he was working himself up to a perfect fury.

  “I must get to the yacht, if possible,” thought Bob, and headed in the direction without delay.

  On and on came the polar bear.

  He did not seem to gain, neither did he lose.

  So far the race had been about even, but Bob felt he could not keep up that terrific strain much longer.

  As he ran he fingered his gun nervously.

  Should he risk a shot?

  “I must do something,” he said to himself desperately.

  And wheeling about he took hasty aim and blazed away.

  The shot was not a bad one. The bullet struck the polar bear in the side of the head, causing him to stagger back and halt.

  On went Bob again, and by the time the bear recovered sufficiently to continue the pursuit he was nearly fifty yards in advance.

  But the bear was undaunted, and on he came as swiftly as before.

  Once Bob stumbled and almost gave himself up for lost.

  But he scrambled up quickly, and was relieved to see the bear stop, not being able to make out what was about to happen.

  Then on went again, until, with a cry of terror, Bob leaped back.

  He had reached the edge of a swiftly flowing stream, which ran between smooth banks of ice.

  To attempt to leap that body of water would be highly dangerous, and to enter it might cost him his life.

  And now the polar bear was at his very heels.

  CHAPTER XIV

  The Finding of the Stone Chest

  “Help! help!”

  Why he uttered the cry Bob could scarcely tell.

  He did not imagine that any human beings were within sound of his voice.

  Yet it is natural for a person in mortal peril to cry for assistance.

  Luckily his cries were heard.

  Captain Sumner was returning from the Dart, having hastily summoned Bok, Leeks, and the others.

  Glancing in the direction, he saw the polar bear and then Bob.

  He did not stop to think, but, taking hasty aim, fired.

  Bok also discharged his weapon, and, hit twice in the neck, the beast staggered back.

  Bob now saw his friends, and, running up the stream, joined them.

  With so many against him the bear tried to flee, but a second bullet from the captain’s gun finished him.

  “Oh, how thankful I am that you have come,” cried Bob gratefully. “I thought I was a goner.”

  “Don’t waste time here,” exclaimed Captain Sumner. “These shots will alarm those people we left at the ice cave.”

  “That is true,” said Bob. “Come on—we must rescue my father!”

  And he led the way, with the captain at his side.

  It was a rough journey up the side of the hill again, and more than once they had to stop to catch their breath.

  At the top a surprise awaited them.

  The band of strange people had disappeared!

  At first Bob could scarcely believe his eyes.

  “Where are they?”

  “Gone!”

  “But to where? I can’t see them anywhere.”

  Captain Sumner shook his head.

  A telescope was brought into play, but it did no good.

  Captors and captive had alike gone, no one could tell where.

  A consultation was held, and it was decided to explore the cave before going back to the Dart.

  The descent into the cold spot was not easy, and more than once a member of the party was in danger of breaking a leg.

  The bottom reached they made their way to the place where the men had been at work with their axes.

  They had cut out a square hole two by three feet and six feet deep.

  Gazing down into the bottom of the hole, Bob gave a shout:

  “The stone chest, as sure as I live!”

  “What!” cried the captain.

  He too looked into the opening.

  There rested what at first looked to the a square stone of a whitish-blue color.

  But a closer examination proved that it was really a stone chest, having two immense hinges of iron. How had the object come there?

  “I believe those people were going to dig it out when our firing frightened them off,” said Captain Sumner.

  “Let us see what the chest contains,” returned Bob, in high curiosity.

  The others were willing, and by the united efforts of the sailors the top of the chest was pried back.

  A murmur of astonishment went up.

  The chest contained three iron pots, one filled with silver and the others filled with gold!

  “The treasure, sure enough!” ejaculated Jack, who had come along with the sailors.

  “There are thousands of dollars there!” said Captain Sumner.

  “We ought to take the stuff on board of the Dart,” put in Bok. “’Taint no use to leave it out here.”

  The others agreed with him.

  In the chest were two fur-covered sacks, and these the party used, filling them up to the top.

  In the midst of the work a far-away shot was heard. Two more followed in quick succession.

  “’Tis an alarm from the yacht,” cried the captain. “I told my daughter and Mrs. Cromwell to fire in case anything turned up.”

  Without de
lay the sailors were sent off in advance.

  Captain Sumner, Bob, and Jack started to follow with the treasure sacks, when a shout went up and a band of the hostile savages appeared at the far end of the ice cave.

  “We must run for it!” yelled Bob. “Come on—for the ship!”

  “Give them a volley first!” shouted the captain.

  Six shots, poured into the advancing troop, threw them into confusion.

  As the treasure-seekers turned to run a spear glanced over our hero’s shoulder and stuck quivering in the ground a dozen yards beyond.

  At the top of their speed they rushed toward the shore.

  At first they fancied they were not pursued.

  After going a hundred yards, however, a wild yell and the patter of feet told them they would have to do their best.

  Encumbered as they were, with both the lads partly disabled and the captain no speedy runner, the savages soon gained on them.

  “We must give them another volley!” panted the captain.

  Though the guns chosen were breech-loaders, it took some little time to reload them whilst at a run.

  Suddenly Bob felt a shock, which nearly made him fall.

  However, he recovered himself with a stagger.

  “The sack saved you,” gasped Captain Sumner. “But for that the spear would have pierced your back. Now wheel round and fire!”

  As they fronted the natives they found that not thirty yards divided them.

  At that short range every bullet told.

  Three men fell dead, and as many were wounded.

  The captain gave them a couple of shots from his revolver before he once more turned and ran for his life.

  “That accounts for about half them,” exclaimed our hero.

  As they gained the head of the beach Jack stopped short.

  “Go on!” he gasped. “My side! I am stuck!”

  Bob put his arm through that of his friend, who had dropped his gun, and dragged him onward.

  The captain turned and fired the remaining chambers of his revolver among the crowd, now within a score of yards.

  The small boat was in waiting, and into it they tumbled, amid a storm of spears.

  Both the captain and Bok, who rowed, were stuck.

  Our hero seized the oars from the hands of the latter and pulled with all his strength for the yacht.

  The gunwale of the little boat was almost level with the water.

  It was slow work.

  Luckily, nearly all the enemies’ spears were exhausted.

  An arrow pierced Bob’s cap, and the last spear which was thrown again wounded the captain, piercing his leg.

  Fortunately the distance was so far that it only entered about an inch and fell out from its own weight.

  Our hero and the captain clambered on board the schooner.

  Jack was exhausted, but still clung to his bag of silver.

  Scarcely had they gained the deck when a yell broke from the dark waters around them, and spears and arrows fell on all sides.

  Every gun on board was now fired at the savages.

  Yet they came on as if determined to kill every white person in sight.

  CHAPTER XV

  Bob Rescues His Father—Conclusion

  The savages were pressing close upon the Dart. Something must be done.

  “Slip the cable!” shouted the captain. “Up with the jib, topgallant sails, and gaff!”

  “We must trust to weathering the point,” he added to the mate. “If we do, we are safe. The current will carry us to sea.”

  His orders were executed.

  The wind fortunately blew from the southward, and, filling the light sails, carried the Dart off the shore.

  The yacht’s head paid off, and, answering her helm, she, with the tide in her favor, bore seaward.

  A few parting shots, and the Dart, now feeling the full force of the wind, left the fleet of canoes far behind.

  The next few hours were employed in the dressing of wounds and making things a little ship-shape.

  It had been a hard-fought fight, and everyone was tired out.

  Fortunately, neither Mrs. Cromwell nor Viola had suffered from the attack.

  Long before the crew were able to do anything more darkness set in.

  Bob was very impatient to trace up his father, but just now that was impossible.

  Anxiously the boy waited for dawn, while his mother wept in silence, thinking of her beloved husband.

  Would they save him?

  At the first signs of morning Bob was up and ready for the search.

  Captain Sumner and Jack were not far behind.

  The Dart proceeded slowly toward land.

  Satisfied that the savages had left the vicinity, the party went ashore, and once more proceeded toward the cave of ice.

  A light snow had fallen, and all former tracks had been obliterated.

  In vain they looked about for some trace of the Svlachkys.

  “Let us go on an exploring tour,” suggested the captain, seeing how badly Bob felt.

  They started off first for the far end of the cavern.

  They had gone scarcely a dozen rods when the captain called a halt.

  “Someone is coming!” he whispered.

  A crunching of snow and ice was now plainly to be heard.

  The party ran for shelter behind a series of ice humps and waited.

  Suddenly a man clad in furs dashed by them, running at top speed.

  “Father!”

  At that strange cry the man stopped as though shot.

  “Who calls?” he asked, but instead of replying, Bob rushed from his hiding place.

  “My son! What does this mean? How came you here?”

  “We came in search of you, father,” replied Bob. Father and son embraced warmly. Then Captain Cromwell turned swiftly.

  “We must fly! The Svlachkys are coming! I just escaped from them.”

  He had just uttered the words when the crowd of strange people came down upon them.

  The leader started to throw a sharp spear at Captain Cromwell, when Bob rushed in and, with one well-directed blow of his gun, laid the man on his back.

  A fierce shout went up and a struggle ensued.

  But the fall of their leader had demoralized the Svlachkys, and when half a dozen guns and pistols had been fired at them they fled in dismay.

  After this the party from the Dart lost no time in returning to the vessel.

  Bob and his father walked side by side, and never were parent and child happier.

  When Mrs. Cromwell saw her husband alive and well, she cried for joy and threw herself into his arms. It was a happy time all around.

  Captain Cromwell’s story was a long one. In brief, it was as follows:

  When the Bluebell went down, he and Ruel Gross escaped on a raft, and after several days of suffering, reached the coast of Siberia.

  From there they set out for Cedar Island.

  The island gained, they found the stone chest, and then Captain Cromwell was captured.

  For a long while the Svlachkys held him, thinking he knew of more treasures than those already discovered.

  At last, however, they grew weary of waiting, and had resolved to put him to death, when deliverance came as recorded.

  That there was more treasures was proven later on.

  The stone chest was taken up, and beneath was found a cross of gold that was valued at fifteen thousand dollars.

  With the treasure on board, the Dart started southeastward for the United States. In due course of time San Francisco was reached, and here the treasure was disposed of.

  Each of the sailors belonging to the party was given five hundred dollars, besides his pay. Jack received five hundred dollars also. The remainder of the money was divided equally between Captain Sumner and Captain Cromwell.

  With his portion of the treasure Captain Cromwell purchased an interest in another ship, and to-day is fast regaining his lost financial position.

&nbs
p; Bob is with his father, and Jack Larmore sticks to the pair.

  Captain Sumner has given up his roving life and has settled down with Viola as his housekeeper. His residence is but a short distance from that occupied by Mrs. Cromwell, so the latter does not want for company when her husband and son are on the ocean.

  And here let us leave, satisfied that in the future all will be well with those who have figured in the story of The Stone Chest.

  AMONG MALAY PIRATES

  CHAPTER I

  “I wish most heartily that something would happen,” Harry Parkhurst, a midshipman of some sixteen years of age, said to his chum, Dick Balderson, as they leaned on the rail of her majesty’s gunboat Serpent, and looked gloomily at the turbid stream that rolled past the ship as she lay at anchor.

  “One day is just like another—one is in a state of perspiration from morning till night, and from night till morning. There seems to be always a mist upon the water; and if it were not that we get up steam every three or four days and run out for twenty-four hours for a breath of fresh air, I believe that we should be all eaten up with fever in no time. Of course, they are always talking of Malay pirates up the river kicking up a row; but it never seems to come off.”

  “There is one thing, Harry—there is always something to look at, for there are canoes constantly going up and down, and there is plenty of variety among them—from the sluggish dhows, laden with up country produce, to the long canoes with a score of paddlers and some picturesque ruffian sitting in the stern. It adds to the interest when you know that the crews are cutthroats to a man, and would make but the shortest possible work of you if they had got you in their power.”

  “Yes, Dick. Look at that canoe coming up stream; what a good looking chap that is in the stern, though by the way he scowls at us I can quite believe he would, as you say, cut our throats if he had the chance. That is a pretty little child sitting by him, and what a gorgeous dress she has! There, you see, he can look pleasant enough when he speaks to her. I fancy they must have come from a long way up the river, for they look wilder than most of the fellows who pass us. If that fool who is steering her does not mind what he is about, Dick, he will either run into that canoe coming down or else get across our chain. There, I told you so.”

  The man at the tiller was in fact, looking, with mingled curiosity and hostility, at the gunboat that he was passing but a few yards away, and did not notice a canoe, manned by six rowers, that was coming down with the stream, taking an oblique course across the bows of the Serpent, and was indeed hidden from his view by the hull of the vessel, until he had passed beyond her. Then there was a sudden shout and a yell from a dozen throats, as the two canoes came into collision, the one proceeding up the river being struck on the quarter with a force that almost cut her in two, and in an instant her occupants were in the water. As the Malays were to a man almost as much at home in the water as on land, the accident would have had little effect beyond the loss of the boat and its contents, had it not been that the stern of the other craft struck the Malay chief with such force as to completely disable him, and he would have sunk at once had not two of the boatmen grasped him and kept his head above water.