“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. Twerè 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-commitally. 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.
“There’s men sleepin’ in the boats, an’ men on watch,” said he; “an’ they all has swords an’ pistols. Can’t get away anyhow, Mister 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 capt
ured 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 8
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.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 643
