The Edward S. Ellis Megapack

by Edward S. Ellis

  “They’re there, beyond a doubt,” said Storms, “and it now remains to see whether they are worth the gathering. Help me get on this suit.”

  Both worked deftly, and it was soon adjusted. The main thing was the breathing apparatus, Storms having some fear that at such a depth the pressure would be so great as to close the pipes, and thus shut out the air. However, the only way to learn was by experiment, and he did not wait. Carefully coiling his pipe, he took the rope in his hand and began descending, the two having arranged the signals so that with ordinary care no accident need result. Captain Bergen held one end of the rope in his hand, ready to draw his friend to the surface the instant he should receive notice that it was necessary.

  “It is a long way to the bottom!” exclaimed the captain, standing like the harpooner in a whale-boat, and saw the line steadily paying out.

  “It won’t do for him to go much further,” was his conclusion, noticing, with some alarm, that but little more of the hose was left on the ground. “I wish those pearls had fixed themselves not quite— Hello!”

  He knew from the instant cessation of the weight on the rope, and the motionless condition of the hose, that the bottom had been reached by Abe Storms, and none too soon, either. Peering carefully into the clear depths, Captain Bergen saw, too, that his mate was attending to business.

  CHAPTER XXI

  At Last

  Mate Storms, so far as could be seen, looked like an immense crab at work on the bottom of the pearl bank and along the rough rocks. He was so far below the surface that he was insensible to the long, heavy swells, which at intervals broke upon the beach with a thunderous boom, and so long as the breathing apparatus kept right he could pursue his labor without difficulty.

  As he anticipated, he had not been long at work when several sharks made their appearance and reconnoitered the mysterious intruder upon their domains. They were evidently puzzled over the appearance of the strange visitor, and when Storms gave one of them an ugly prod with the point of his knife, he darted out of sight, instantly followed by the others, who seemed to suspect they were in danger from the monster, whose slightest touch was so emphatic.

  It did not take long for the diver to fill his basket, and when he gave the signal, Captain Bergen pulled with might and main, and, a few minutes after, the man in his armor scrambled upon shore, tumbled over by a huge swell, which broke at that moment. The basket was full, and catching it up, Captain Bergen left his friend to himself and began hurriedly prying open the mollusks with his sheath-knife. His heart throbbed, for they were the largest oysters he had ever seen, and he was full of high hope.

  The first bivalve opened disclosed a pearl almost as large as a robin’s egg. It possessed the faint yellowish tinge which is recognized in the East as belonging to the most valuable species.

  With trembling, eager hands, Captain Bergen opened the second, and discovered another, nearly as large as the first. Half beside himself, he snatched up the largest oyster in the heap, and forced it apart with such precipitancy that he cut his hand. There lay a pearl before him fully a third larger than the first, with the purest tint, oval in form, and worth thousands of dollars.

  Captain Bergen could contain himself no longer, but springing to his feet he threw his hat in the air, and shouted, and danced about like a madman.

  Mr. Storms did not remove his armor, for he intended to go down again. His laugh, muffled and sounding strangely from within the visor, was heard as he joined in the demonstrations of his companion.

  When, encumbered as he was with his awkward armor, he began executing a double shuffle on the beach, the sight was so grotesque that the captain came near going into convulsions. But the exercise was too exhausting, and the mate speedily sat down on the shore and also began opening oysters. His ardor was somewhat dampened when he failed to discover anything in the first, and he became quite solemn when the second was equally barren of results; but the third yielded a beautiful pearl, fully equal to the first which the captain brought forth. There could be no doubt now that the men had struck a pearl bank of marvelous richness.

  “There are plenty more down there,” said the mate, preparing to descend with his knife and basket again.

  Captain Bergen allowed him to go, while he took the rope in hand, restraining his excitement with difficulty, for he was now sure that the wildest dreams in which he had indulged promised to be more than realized, and he considered the fortune of himself and friend assured.

  “The fools,” he muttered, referring to the mutineers;“if they had acted the part of honest men they might have shared this, but they chose to be scoundrels, and truly they have had their reward.”

  He noticed this time that the mate drew more upon the hose than before—so much so, indeed, that he threatened to draw the upper ends under water—and the captain gave a warning tug at the rope, to apprise him that he must venture no further. The warning was heeded, and when, a few minutes later, the diver was helped to terra firma again, his basket was filled heaping full.

  This was dumped out, and he prepared to descend once more. Captain Bergen was so occupied in attending to his friend that he gained little time to open the oysters, and could only look longingly at them. Now and then, while the diver was cautiously working below, the captain snatched one up and pried the shells apart, and the success he met with was enough to turn the head of the coolest and most unconcerned of men. Beyond question, as we have said, the bank contained oysters of astonishing richness, fully three-fourths possessing pearls of extraordinary size and value.

  Abe Storms went down and came up with the basket heaped to the top six separate times, and then doffed his armor.

  “What’s the matter?” asked the captain, in surprise.

  “That’s all!”

  “What! are there no more?”

  “Not another one, so far as I can see.”

  “That’s too bad,” observed the captain, in a tone of disappointment. “I supposed there was enough to keep us employed several days.”

  “Ah, Jack,” replied the mate, in a reproving tone,“see the emptiness of riches, and how little they can do to satisfy the cravings of the human heart. There is enough wealth there at your feet to make you and me independently rich for life, and yet you complain because you have so little.”

  “It was wrong,” said the captain, meekly. “I am in such a nervous condition that I’m hardly myself. I am truly grateful for what we have here, and glad that we made the long voyage to secure them. We have enough—to crave more is wicked.”

  They now set to work opening the shells between which were nestling the pearls, and the result was simply astonishing. It was hard work to get some of the thick, ridgy bivalves apart, but when they succeeded they rarely failed to be rewarded munificently. Some of the pearls were small, the majority large, and about twenty of enormous size and clearness. When the entire lot was placed in a little pile, there were found to be one hundred and twenty-odd; and, although it was impossible to estimate their value, Mate Storms—who was the better informed—believed they were worth at least a quarter of a million of dollars. All these had been taken in a few hours, though the preparations and the voyage thither had occupied many long, long months.

  “I think I will go down and take a farewell look,” said Abe, when the task was finished. “I have a suspicion that I may have missed something.”

  “I am quite sure you have,” replied the captain, assisting him with his armor; “and you have but a short time at your disposal, either, for I think a storm is brewing.”

  This time the mate meant to proceed differently. In descending along the rocks the first time, he paused to break off some of the clusters, and he thought he caught the shadowy glimpse of an enormous oyster, further in; but there were so many closer at hand, and he was so excited—despite his natural coolness—that he forgot about it until now, when he determined to look further, half hoping, more than believing, that it might possess a still larger pearl than any he had seen. He
was confident that this was the only one he had missed, for the search he made during his last descent, in other respects, was thorough and left nothing to be done over again.

  Carefully he sank into the depths of the ocean, with one hand grasping the rope, ready to give the signal to stop lowering the instant it should become necessary. He passed several yawning crevices in the rocks, which, of course, were of coral formation, and all at once he tugged smartly at the rope. He recognized the spot, and his feet were still about three yards from the bank upon which he had walked back and forth so many times. Captain Bergen responded at once, and held him suspended where he was, which was anything but a comfortable position, inasmuch as he could find no support for his feet, and his left hand was of little use.

  Immediately before his face the rock made an inward sweep, showing an abrupt ledge, a yard in width and depth. Scanning this as closely as he could in the dim twilight of the ocean-cavern, Storms thought he saw something resembling an oyster, which was fully a foot in length. Uncertain as to its identity, he shoved his hand in and found it was suspended to the rock above, and after two or three violent wrenches, and by using his knife as well as he could, he broke it loose and drew it out.

  It was an oyster, indeed, of prodigious size, and he instantly signaled to the captain to draw him up. The latter did so with a vigor that threatened to dislocate the armor itself.

  “Here it is,” he exclaimed, the moment he reached the air. “But I don’t know whether there is anything in it or not.”

  “My stars! Is that an oyster?” asked the captain, picking it up and turning it over like a huge stone, with inquiring eyes.

  Little Inez Hawthorne had come to the spot while the mate was down the last time, and she danced with delight at the sight of the beautiful pearls piled upon the ground like a heap of tiny cannon balls.

  “What are you going to do with that?” she asked, surveying the big bivalve, with an expression of disgust on her pretty face.

  “That is yours,” said the captain, earnestly.

  The mate looked at him and said:

  “Do you mean that, captain?”

  “I do. Whatever we find inside of that shall be consecrated to the use of Inez Hawthorne—to be hers absolutely. There may be nothing at all, but if there be a pearl, it will possess a value which we cannot estimate.”

  The mate reached out his hand.

  “The proposition does credit to your heart, captain, and I join it without reservation. Now do you open it.”

  The captain hesitated a moment and looked at the big shell curiously, as if afraid to make the investigation.

  While thus employed, Storms called attention to the fact that the two shells were already slightly separated, as if the mollusk were gasping for air, which could not be the case. Captain Bergen held up the huge shell and peeped inside. He did so but an instant, when he dropped it upon the sand, and exclaimed, with a pale face and trembling voice:

  “It’s there!”

  Mate Storms knew what it meant, and he in turn raised the oyster, ran his knife in carefully, worked hard for a minute, and then managed to get the two shells apart.

  CHAPTER XXII

  The Pearl of the Pacific

  There, at the front of the oyster, and slightly to one side, was the most marvelous pearl upon which the eyes of the men had ever rested. It was the size of an ordinary hen’s egg, clear and pure, and worth a sum of money which neither of the astounded men dared attempt to guess.

  For a few seconds they were speechless, and then Inez clapped her hands with delight, and asked:

  “Is that for me?”

  “Yes, that is yours,” replied Captain Bergen. “The mate and I give it to you, to be yours and no one’s else.”

  “Isn’t it splendid?” cried Inez, catching it up, passing it from one hand to the other, holding it up in the sunlight, and showing as much genuine pleasure as if she were a veritable South Sea Islander, presented with some new trinket.

  “That,” said Mate Storms, “may be called The Pearl of the Pacific!”

  “No,” objected the captain, “it is she who is the pearl of this great ocean, for it was upon its surface that we first saw her, and she has proved herself far above the worth of pearls or diamonds or rubies. To her, under heaven, my life, and not impossibly yours, is owing. The greatest pleasure of this voyage has come from her companionship, and all that I ask now is that we shall be able to preserve this wealth for her, and that the opportunity may be ours to do our full duty toward her.”

  Mate Storms looked admiringly at the captain, who had so eloquently expressed his own sentiments.

  “You are right, Jack,” said he, speaking in his familiar way. “It is she who is the Pearl of the Pacific!”

  The men surveyed, with the greatest pleasure, the frolicsome delight of the little one, who was all unmindful of the immense treasure which had fallen to her lot, and of the title of honor which her friends had given her. Naturally, the entire party were so absorbed that for a time they hardly glanced beyond their immediate surroundings; but when Abe Storms came up for the last time, he glanced, by the merest accident, out to sea, and exclaimed:

  “Oh, my goodness! Just look there, Jack!”

  No more than half a mile distant, a flying proa was seen, speeding with great swiftness over the water, while a number of dark figures were discovered on the deck, evidently looking with no little curiosity at the white men.

  The singular craft, however, came no nearer, and soon vanished in the distance. Its appearance caused some apprehension and uneasiness on the part of our friends, and after discussing the matter they decided, as a matter of precaution, to bury the pearls.

  Inez was persuaded, without difficulty, to trust hers to the keeping of her friends, who dug a small well in the sand, and inclosing the entire number of pearls in strong canvas bags, made for that purpose, buried them out of sight, there to remain until one or both of the men should choose to dig them up again, and it was agreed that that should not be done until the way opened for them to leave the island.

  The long afternoon was well advanced when this task was completed, they fixing the precise spot so clearly in their minds that there was no necessity of landmarks, either being sure of finding it whenever it should become necessary.

  “It seems to me the swells are larger than usual, and they make more noise when they break upon the beach,” observed Mr. Storms, looking curiously at the sky.

  They had just dumped back the remains of the pearl-oysters into the sea, so as to leave no trace of their work, and Captain Bergen straightened up and surveyed the sky.

  “There’s a storm coming—a regular screamer! Look, by the great horn spoon!” he added, in no little excitement.

  There was good cause for the emotion of the captain, for the light of the sun was obscured by a thick, yellow haze, which was fast overspreading the sky, and, far out to sea, the long line of mist seemed to be churning the water into foam, and to be advancing rapidly toward the island, where stood the two men contemplating the coming fury of the elements.

  The light of the sun was obscured, and there was a perceptible chilliness in the air, and the barometer—which they had brought from the Coral—showed a most startling change. One of the fiercest of the tropical tempests was gathering, and was sure to break upon the island in a few minutes.

  This was alarming to contemplate, for the men knew well what kind of elemental disturbances spring up on the shortest notice in the South Seas. But it was not this alone which startled them.

  Looking directly out to sea, toward the yeasty waters, they saw a schooner sinking and rising upon the long swells, and certain to be caught, in the very vortex, as may be said, of the hurricane, or tornado, or typhoon, or whatever it should be termed. The craft was not an unfamiliar one—both knew it well—for it was the Coral, with the mutineers on board.

  Unarmed as they were, they would not dare place themselves in the power of those toward whom they had shown such enmi
ty, but that they were literally forced to do so to escape almost certain destruction from the impending tempest.

  If they should run into the lagoon to wait until the storm should subside, neither the captain nor mate would disturb them—provided they took their departure as soon as it became safe. Still, knowing their treacherous character so well, Bergen and Storms did not mean to trust them at all. Inez was therefore placed within the cabin, while her protectors made certain they were armed and ready for any contingency.

  Now that the sun was shut out from sight, a darkness like that of night overspread land and water, while the strong gale howled among the palms, which swayed and bent as if they would soon be uprooted and flung out into the boiling sea. The swells were topped with foam, and large drops of rain, sweeping almost horizontally across the island, struck against the face like pebbles.

  The mutineers were heading, so far as was possible, towards the opening in the atoll, but they were not in position to strike it, and, with the deepening darkness and increasing tempest, the task was becoming more difficult every minute. Suddenly a vivid flash of lightning illumined the gloom, and the schooner Coral was observed on the crest of a high wave, heading toward the island; but the two men who saw her, saw also, that she missed the opening and was too close in to make it.

  The rumble of thunder continued for some minutes, when once more a blinding flash swept across the murky sky, lighting up sea and island for the instant, as if with the glare of the noonday sun. Captain Bergen and Mate Storms were straining their eyes to catch sight of the little schooner and its crew, but it was invisible. In that single searching glance, they could not have failed to see her had she been afloat. The conclusion, therefore, was inevitable. She and her crew had gone to the bottom of the sea.

  Such was the fact. The mutineers had met a frightful though merited fate, and could trouble our friends no more.

  CHAPTER XXIII

  A Dismal Home