“I didn’t reckon to have no dawgs put to trackin’ me, like as if I wer’ a bloomin’ criminal!” said the big man, in a grim half-sulky voice.
Cargunka laughed, suddenly.
“You got spunk, my lad, all right!” he said; “but God didn’t mean you to run to the brains, I’m thinkin’! Pull!”
Chapter VII
The dingy was round the bend now; and Monkton thought the chase was done; but Cargunka guessed better.
“They’ll cut across the bend!” he said, “an’ head us off, if we ain’t mindin’. We got to pull our insides out to stop ’em!”
And he was right; for, suddenly, a clamour of shouting broke out ahead; and, turning on his thwart, he saw the flicker of torch-light, among the pine woods away on the port bow of the dingy.
“Pull!” he muttered, and bent his muscular back to a still greater effort.
The boat shot past the threatening part of the riverbank, just as the first of the crowd of men burst through into the open space, on the riverside. The flicker of the torches shone out over the water, and showed them, vaguely, on the fringe of the light.
“Got ’em!” yelled several voices; and a splatter of gun-fire broke out. But hard running through dark pine woods, by torch-light, is not conducive to good shooting, and the two in the boat passed out of range, into the darkness upon the river, without being hit; though the boat had been struck several times.
Yet the crowd was not minded even now to give up; but began to run after them, along the bank, in a determined fashion; though they seemed unable to overhaul the dingy.
“We’re leavin’ ’em!” gasped Monkton, at last…. “Leavin’ ’em sure! They won’t be able to run far, when we gets out on the big water!”
“Hold your wind, my lad, an’ pull,” said Cargunka, between strokes. “We, maybe, got the worst to come. You remember them two canoes!… We ain’t got to be followed an’ located; an’ that’s what they’ll do, if we don’t drop this bunch, before we hit the briny…. Them two in the canoes’ll come monkeying round; an’ I’m not out for any killin’. It ain’t my way. It’s ugly an’ it ain’t Christianlike…. You pull, my lad!”
The dingy moved fast under the tremendous efforts, and the current helped them all the time. Astern of them, on the South bank, there were the bobbing lights of the many torches, and odd shouts, with now and again a crash and a curse as some man caught his foot and tumbled headlong.
The shooting had ceased entirely; for the boat was quite out of sight of the chasing crowd, and they were making far too much noise to hear the muffled oar-roll of the padded oars in the rowlocks.
But with all their efforts, Cargunka and the big miner could not lose the men who were after them; for the boat was never more than some three hundred yards ahead, at any period of the mad chase, and Cargunka was thinking all the time of the canoes that were somewhere ahead, in the mouth of the creek’s estuary.
Some of the men in the crowd astern were sure to know that a couple of the camp “providers” had come down the estuary, and the torch-light was certain to bring the men in the canoes up to see what was happening. That was, possibly, what the miners were counting on. And Cargunka knew that if the men they had seen in the canoes took a hand in the chase, it would mean gun-fighting.
“We’m there, D.C.O.!” gasped out Monkton, suddenly, after taking a look over his shoulder. “Now we’ll lose ’em!”
“Lose nothin’, my lad!” said Cargunka, as the boat rode out into the open sea. “Look astern! That’ll bring them canoes up, in mighty quick time.”
The thing that Cargunka was pointing to, was the flaring blade of the torches, as the miners rushed out of the wood, and down on to the shore at the mouth of the estuary, where they began to shout, and wave their torches.
From somewhere over the sea, came a loud “cooee,” sounding strange and hollow, in all that immensity.
“There you are, my lad!” said Cargunka, in an I-told-you-so voice. “Now we got to handle that!”
“Well,” said Monkton, “ain’t I got me gun on me! Je-hosh! but I’d like to perforate some of ’em. I bin shot over a deal tonight.”
“Hark to that,” said Cargunka, ignoring the big miner’s grumble; for a great voice, the drunken voice of the big man who had been so relieved in his mind about the nigger, came booming out across the ever-widening gap of water:—
“Stop ’em. Buck!… Buck Kessel!… Buck Kessel, stop ’em!… Ahoy, Buck, perforate ’em. They got your pardners’ dust.”
“Je-hosh!” said Monkton, “I guess that was sure that Buck swine that was in one of them canoes. I’ll sure perforate him for keeps, if he’s the nerve to get in my track!”
“Keep her moving good-oh, my lad,” said Cargunka. “We don’t want to be too near in, when the fun starts.”
“Buck Kessel!” came the great voice again from the beach, sounding clear through the boom of the surf on the shores to the North and South. “Buck Kessel! Stop ’em. They got your pardners’ dust. Fill ’em up with lead.”
And then, suddenly, Buck’s voice ringing across the sea, from somewhere on the port side of the boat:—
“Sure! I’m after ’em!”
“There’s two of ’em!” came the great voice from the shore. “We’ve shot away all our lead. Plug ’em, Buck! Try the duck-gun on ’em!”
“Sure!” shouted Buck’s voice, out of the darkness.
“Duck!” said Cargunka, and the two of them ducked their heads below the gunnel, pulling their oars in-board, just as a heavy gun roared out, from a short distance away on their port side.
There was a screaming hiss of shot all about them, and the side of the boat sounded as if it had been struck by a sudden gust of the largest and most vigorous kind of hail.
“He’s peppered the boat proper,” said Cargunka. I guess we don’t want that to happen again, when he’s any nearer, or it’s going to punch the side of the boat out.”
“Sure!” said Monkton, and the two of them pulled out their guns.
As they did so, the voice of Buck Kessel sounded again, apparently not more than some sixty yards away.
“I guess that peppered ye! I’ll fill ye up solid with lead if ye play any hanky on me! You turn right around now, and pull for the shore.”
As he spoke, Monkton loosed off his revolver at the sound, once, twice and, at the second shot, there was a little cry of pain from out of the darkness, and then a brutal spate of threats and cursing.
“Down!” said Cargunka sharply, and caught Monkton by the collar, and dragged him into the bottom of the boat. In the same instant, the big duck-gun roared out again, and the crash of the heavy duck-shot on the side of the boat was sickening. Several of the shot passed clean in through the side, and drove dangerous splinters of the hard wood in all directions, so that the two of them were bleeding in half a dozen places; but not really harmed.
“That got ye! I’ll teach ye, ye damned thieves—I’ll—”
But what further lesson Mr. Buck Kessel wished to instill, was not told; for both Monkton and Cargunka emptied their guns at the sound of his voice, firing low, so as to avoid killing him, if possible.
There came an ugly scream from out of the night, and then an absolute silence, broken presently by the sound of a paddle out in the darkness. There was a further space of silence, and then again the splash of a paddle, but further away.
“He ain’t hit bad!” said Cargunka; “but I guess he’s bad enough. He’s off! Now, out oars, my lad, and maybe we’ll pick the ship up before yon other chap comes foolin’ round.”
They pulled out into the open sea for ten minutes; and were getting well away from the shore, when suddenly Cargunka threw a low word or two over his shoulder:—
“We’re bein’ stalked, my lad,” he said. “Watch the little twiddles of phosphor-light astern there in the water. That chap can use a paddle pretty good. He ain’t making no noise—not as much as you would if you winked, my lad. I reckon that’s the other canoe.”
“There’s the ship, away yon,” said Monkton. “Maybe, if we tried, we could rush yon guy before he guessed we was wise to him. Then I reck’n we could fill him bang up to his back teeth with lead; an’ we’d be right then to make our getaway, an’ no one to know where we’d gone.”
“Pull, my lad,” said Cargunka. “I’ll fix him in a bit.”
He stood up and slipped off his coat.
“Now, my lad,” he said, “take the two oars an’ keep on pullin’; but don’t sweat yourself, an’ when you ’ear me whistle, come back for me.”
He reached behind him, as he spoke, and pulled out his belt-knife. Then, with this in his hand, he caught the stern of the dingy and lowered himself, without a word further, into the sea.
“Well, what’d you think of that!” muttered the big miner. But he obeyed orders, listening intently, and staring hard at the faint whirling of the phosphorescence in the water, some twenty fathoms astern, where the unseen paddle plied silently in the almost complete blackness. And somewhere, as Monkton guessed, between the canoe and the boat, Cargunka trod water quietly, and waited, knife in hand.
Less than a minute later, there was a sudden yell, astern, and then a loud splash. And still Monkton pulled on, stolidly.
A minute passed, during which odd sounds came to him, vague splashings, and once a desperate gasping; and finally there was only a very complete silence; broken presently by the slight sounds of someone swimming.
Then a whistle.
Monkton put the boat round, instantly, with savage strokes, and pulled back.
“Way ’nough!” said Cargunka’s voice, softly, out of the darkness ahead. Then, in a minute, Cargunka was climbing aboard, dripping prodigiously.
“Did ye knife him?” asked Monkton, as Cargunka took his oar again, and bent his back once more to pulling.
“Not me, my lad,” said Cargunka. “I ain’t built blood-thirsty, like you. I capsized the canoe. We ’ad a bit of a scrap in the water, an’ then I cut a tidy lump out of her side. He’ll be too busy wiv this an’ that to do any more stalkin’ this night, I’m thinkin’.”
For the first time since Cargunka had known him, the big miner laughed.
“Je-hosh!” he said. “I’d sure have liked to see the boob get his head wet.”
Half an hour later, they were safely aboard the brig.
Chapter VIII
The following day, as usual, Cargunka took up his duties as cook. But that evening, as was his custom, he went aft, in the second dog watch, to enjoy the coolness of the weather side of the poop, and the comfort of Captain Gell’s deck-chair.
“You know, Cap’n,” he might have been heard explaining presently, “I’ve often thought as this dot-and-carry-one leg of mine was give to me as kind of a set-off against me other gifts. I dare bet that was ’ow it was wiv Byron. Think what he might have been, if the Almighty hadn’t put the break on him, as you might say. An’ even then, the ladies worshipped him. Look at me, too, Cap’n; you mightn’t think it to look at me—”
“No, Sir,” said Captain Gell, firmly, for the second time in this story… “What was all them lights ashore last night, Sir?” he added.
“Them,” said Cargunka, still turning over in his mind how to convince the Captain of his perpetual error of opinion, without having to descend to crude self-flattery; “them, oh, I guess them was a torch-light procession as they was havin’ ashore yon…. It was a s’prisin’ pretty sight, Cap’n.”
There was a little touch of vicious pleasure in his voice, at the look of silent unbelief in Captain Gell’s eyes.
“You’re an obstinate old Jew, Cap’n,” he said, and sighed a little…. “Sing out for Monkton to come aft to me in my cabin.”
And there, some minutes later, Cargunka shared out the gold, in the proportion of “half to you” and “half to me.”
“Did you ever hear of Byron, the poet?” he asked in an earnest voice, as he concluded the division.
“Sure, he’s the poetry guy, D.C.O.,” said the big miner. “Didn’t you tell me about him yourself?”
A Note On The Texts
Whenever possible, texts for this series have been based on versions that were published in book form, preferably during Hodgson’s lifetime. The major exceptions to this rule are the stories that appear in volumes edited by Sam Moskowitz. Moskowitz was known to have access to original manuscripts and other source materials. Some stories were published only in serial form, and have been taken from those primary sources.
Over the years, many of Hodgson’s story’s have appeared under variant titles, which are noted below. As a rule, the titles used in this series are based on the first book publication of a story, even if it previously appeared under a different title, in serial form.
Specific textual sources are noted below. The only changes that have been made to the texts have been to correct obvious typographical errors, and to standardize punctuation and capitalization. British and archaic spellings have been retained.
The Boats of the “Glen Carrig” is based on the 1920 Holden & Hardingham edition. It was originally published by Chapman & Hall, 1907.
“From the Tideless Sea, Part One” is based on its publication in Men Of Deep Waters (Eveleigh Nash, 1914). It was originally published in Monthly Story Magazine 2, No. 6 (April 1906).
“From the Tideless Sea, Part Two: More News From the Homebird” (AKA “The Fifth Message from the Tideless Sea”) is based on its publication in Men Of Deep Waters (Eveleigh Nash, 1914). It was originally published in Blue Book Magazine (August 1907).
“The Mystery of the Derelict” is based on its publication in Men Of Deep Waters (Eveleigh Nash, 1914). It was originally published in Story-teller No. 4 (July 1907).
“The Thing in the Weeds” (AKA “An Adventure of the Deep Waters”) is based on its publication in Deep Waters (Arkham House, 1967). It was originally published in Story-teller No. 60 (January 1912).
“The Finding of the Graiken” is based on its publication in Out of the Storm (Grant, 1975). It was originally published in The Red Magazine No. 93 (February 15, 1913).
“The Call In the Dawn” (AKA “The Voice in the Dawn”) is based on its publication in Deep Waters (Arkham House, 1967). It was originally published as “The Voice in the Dawn”, in Premier Magazine (November 5, 1920).
“Contraband of War” is based on its publication in Captain Gault (McBride & Sons, 1918). It was originally published in London Magazine 32, No. 5 (July 1914).
“The Diamond Spy” is based on its publication in Captain Gault (McBride & Sons, 1918). It was originally published in London Magazine 33, No. 6 (August 1914).
“The Red Herring” is based on its publication in Captain Gault (McBride & Sons, 1918). It was originally published in London Magazine 33, No. 1 (September 1914).
“The Case of the Chinese Curio Dealer” is based on its publication in Captain Gault (McBride & Sons, 1918). It was originally published in London Magazine 33, No. 2 (October 1914).
“The Drum of Saccharine” is based on its publication in Captain Gault (McBride & Sons, 1918). It was originally published in London Magazine 33, No. 3 (November 1914).
“From Information Received” is based on its publication in Captain Gault (McBride & Sons, 1918). It was originally published in London Magazine 33, No. 4 (December 1914).
“The German Spy” (AKA “He ‘assists’ the enemy”) is based on its publication in Captain Gault (McBride & Sons, 1918). It was originally published as “He ‘Assists’ the Enemy” in London Magazine 33, No. 5 (January 1915).
“The Problem of the Pearls” is based on its publication in Captain Gault (McBride & Sons, 1918). It was originally published in London Magazine 34, No. 3 (May 1915).
“The Painted Lady” is based on its publication in London Magazine 35, No. 3 (November 1915).
“The Adventure of the Garter” is based on its publication in Captain Gault (McBride & Sons, 1918). It was originally published in London Magazine 37, No. 1 (September
1916).
“My Lady’s Jewels” is based on its publication in Captain Gault (McBride & Sons, 1918). It was originally published in London Magazine 37, No. 4 (December 1916).
“Trading with the Enemy” is based on its publication in London Magazine 39, No. 2 (October 1917).
“The Plans of the Reefing Bi-Plane” is based on its publication in Terrors of the Sea (Grant, 1996).
“The Island of the Ud” is based on its publication in The Luck of the Strong (Eveleigh Nash, 1916). It was originally published in The Red Magazine No. 75 (May 15, 1912).
“Adventure of the Headland” is based on its publication in The Luck of the Strong (Eveleigh Nash, 1916). It was originally published in The Red Magazine No. 86 (November 1, 1912).
“The Bells of the Laughing Sally” is based on its publication in The Luck of the Strong (Eveleigh Nash, 1916). It was originally published in The Red Magazine No. 121 (April 15, 1914).
“The Adventure with the Claim Jumpers” is based on its publication in The Luck of the Strong (Eveleigh Nash, 1916). It was originally published in The Red Magazine No. 134 (January 15, 1915).
Table of Contents
Unreality, and the Borderlands of Human Existance
The Boats of the “Glen Carrig”
I
II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
VIII
IX
X
XI
XII
XIII
XIV
XV
XVI
XVII
The Sargasso Sea Stories
From the Tideless Sea Part One
Boats of the Glen Carrig and Other Nautical Adventures Page 62
