"Yous can go below; I vill keep ze vatch," replied the second-mate, with ill-concealed contempt, as the skipper shuffled off down the companion way again, back to his orgy with the equally drunken Flinders, who had not once appeared on deck, after perilling the ship through his obstinacy in putting her on the course that had led to our being driven ashore.

The very first shock of the earthquake, indeed, which we felt before the tidal wave caught us, had been sufficient to frighten him from the poop even before the darkness enveloped us and the final catastrophe came!

As for Jan Steenbock, he remained walking up and down the deck as composedly as if the poor Denver City was still at sea, instead of being cooped up now, veritably, like a fish out of water, on dry land.

He did not abandon his post, at any rate!

After a while, though, he acted on the skipper's cowardly advice so far as to tell the starboard watch to turn in, which none of the men were loth to do, for the moon was presently obscured by a thick black cloud, and a torrent of heavy tropical rain quickly descending made most of us seek shelter in the fo'c's'le.

Here I soon fell asleep, utterly wearied out, not only from standing about so long, having been on my legs ever since the early morning when I lit the galley fire, but also quite overcome with all the excitement I had gone through.

I awoke with a start.

The sun was shining brightly through the open scuttle of the fo'c's'le and it was broad daylight.

It was not this that had roused me, though; for, habituated as I now was to the ways of sailor-folk, it made little difference to me whether I slept by day or night so long as I had a favourable opportunity for a comfortable caulk. Indeed, my eyes might have been 'scorched out,' as the saying is, without awaking me.

It was something else that aroused me,—an unaccustomed sound which I had not heard since I left home and ran away to sea.

It was the cooing of doves in the distance.

"Roo-coo-coo! Roo-coo-coo! Coo-coo! Roo-c-o-o!"

I heard it as plainly as possible, just as the plaintive sound used to catch my ear from the wood at the back of the vicarage garden in the old times, when I loved to listen to the bird's love call—those old times that seemed so far off in the perspective of the past, and yet were only two years at most agone!

Why, I must be dreaming, I thought.

But, no; there came the soft, sweet cooing of the doves again.

"Roo-coo-coo! Roo-coo-coo! Coo-coo! Roo-c-o-o!"

Thoroughly roused at last, I jumped out of the bunk I occupied next Hiram, who was still fast asleep, with a lot of the other sailors round him snoring in the fo'c's'le; and rubbing my eyes with both knuckles, to further convince myself of being wide awake, I crawled out from the fore-hatchway on to the open deck.

But, almost as soon as I stepped on my feet, I was startled, for all the starboard side, which was higher than the other, from the list the ship had to port, was covered, where the rain had not washed it away, with a thick deposit of brown, sandy loam, like snuff; while the scuppers aft, where everything had been washed by the deluge that had descended on the decks, were choked up with a muddy mass of the same stuff, forming a big heap over a foot high. I could see, too, that the snuffy dust had penetrated everywhere, hanging on the ropes, and in places where the rain had not wetted it, like powdery snow, although of a very different colour.

Recollecting the earthquake of the previous evening, and all that I had heard and read of similar phenomena, I ascribed this brown, dusty deposit to some volcanic eruption in the near neighbourhood.

This, I thought, likewise, was probably the cause, as well, of the unaccountable darkness that enveloped the ship at the time we experienced the shock; but, just then, I caught, a sight of the land over the lee bulwarks, and every other consideration was banished by this outlook on the strange scene amidst which we were so wonderfully placed.

If our surroundings appeared curious by the spectral light of the moon last night, they seemed doubly so now.

The glaring tropical sun was blazing already high up in the heavens, whose bright blue vault was unflecked by a scrap of cloud to temper the solar rays, while a brisk breeze, blowing in from the south-west, gave a feeling of freshness to the air and raised a little wave of surf, that broke on the beach with a rippling splash far astern; the cooing of the doves in the distance chiming in musically with the lisp of the surge's lullaby.

But, the land!

It was stranger than any I had ever seen.

The high mountain on our left, looked quite as lofty by day as it had done the night before, two thousand feet or more of it towering up into the sky.

It was evidently the crater peak of an old extinct volcano; for, it was shaped like a hollow vase, with the side next the sea washed away by the south-west gales, which, as I subsequently learnt, blew during the rainy season in the vicinity of this equatorial region.

At the base of the cliff was a mound of lava, interspersed with tufts of tufa and grass, that spread out to where the sloping, sandy beach met it; and this was laved further down by the transparent water of the little sheltered harbour formed by the outer edge of the peak and the other lower projecting cliff that extended out into the sea on the starboard side of the ship—the two making a semicircle and almost meeting by the lava mound at the base of the broken crater, there not being more than a couple of cables length between them.

Most wonderful to me was the fact of the ship having been carried so providentially through such a narrow opening, without coming to grief on the Scylla on the one hand, or being dashed to pieces against the Charybdis on the other.

More wonderful still, though, was the sight the shore presented, as I moved closer to the gangway, and, looking down over the bulwarks, inspected the foreground below.

It was like a stray vista of some antediluvian world.

Near the edge of the white sand—on which the ship was lying like a stranded whale, with her prow propped up between two dunes, or hillocks, that wore up to the level of her catheads—was a row of stunted trees without a leaf on them, only bare, skeleton branches; while on the other side of these was a wide expanse of barren brown earth, or lava, utterly destitute of any sign of vegetation.

Then came a grove of huge cacti, whose fleshy, spiked branches had the look of so many wooden hands, or glove stretchers, set up on end; and beyond these again were the more naturally-wooded heights, leading up to the summit of the mountain peak.

The trees, I noticed, grew more luxuriantly and freely here, appearing to be of much larger size, as they increased their distance from the sterile expanse of the lower plain; until, at the top of the ascent, they formed a regular green crest covering the upper edge of the crater and sloping side of the outstretching arm of cliff on our right, whose mantle of verdure and emerald tone contrasted pleasantly with the bright blue of the sky overhead and the equally blue sea below, the latter fringed with a line of white surf and coral sand along the curve of the shore.

This outer aspect of the scene, however, was not all.

Right under my eyes, waddling along the beach, and rearing themselves on their hind legs to feed on the leaves of the cactus, which they nibbled off in huge mouthfuls, were a lot of enormous tortoises, or land turtles, of the terrapin tribe, that were really the most hideous monsters I had ever seen in my life. Several large lizards also were crawling about on the lava and basking in the sun, and a number of insects and queer little birds of a kind I never heard of.

All was strange; for, although I could still catch the cooing of the doves away in the woods in the distance, there was nothing familiar to my sight near.

While I was reflecting on all these wonders, and puzzling my brains as to where we could possibly be, the second-mate, whom I had noticed still on the poop when I came out from the fo'c's'le, as if he had remained up there on watch all night, came to my side and addressed me.

"Everyzing's sdrange, leedel boys, hey?"

"Yes, sir," said I. "I was wondering what part of the world we could be in."

"Ze Galapagos," he replied laconically, answering my question off-hand, in his solemn fashion and deep voice. "It vas call't ze Galapagos vrom ze Spanish vort dat mean ze big toordles, zame dat yous zee dere."

"Then Captain Snaggs was right after all, sir, about the ship's course yesterday, when he said that Mr Flinders would run us ashore if it was altered?"

"Yase, dat vas zo," said Jan Steenbock. "Dat voorst-mate one big vool, and he vas loose ze sheep! Dis vas ze Abingdon Islants, leedel boys— one of ze Galapagos groups. I vas recollecks him. I vas here befores. It vas Abingdon Islants; and ze voorst-mate is von big vool!"

As Jan Steenbock made this observation, a trifle louder than before, I could see the face of Mr Flinders, all livid with passion, as he came up the companion hatch behind the Dane.

"Who's thet durned cuss a-calling o' me names? I guess, I'll spifflicate him when I sees him!" he yelled out at the pitch of his voice; and then pretending to recognise Jan Steenbock for the first time as his detractor, he added, still more significantly, "Oh, it air you, me joker, air it?"



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

SETTLING MATTERS.

"Yase, it vas me," said Jan Steenbock, at once turning round and confronting the other, not in the least discomposed by his sudden appearance, and speaking in his usual slow, deliberate way. "I zays to ze leedel boys here you's von big vool, and zo you vas!"

"Tarnation!" exclaimed Mr Flinders, stepping out on to the deck over the coaming of the booby hatch, and advancing in a threatening manner towards the Dane, who faced him still imperturbably. "Ye jest say thet agen, mister, an' I'll—"

The second-mate did not wait for him to finish his sentence.

"I zays you's von big vool, the biggest vool of all ze vools I vas know," he cried in his deep tones. Every word sounded distinctly and trenchantly, with a sort of sledge-hammer effect, that made the Yankee mate writhe again. "But, my vren', you vas badder dan dat, vor you vas a droonken vool, and vas peril ze sheep and ze lifes of ze men aboord mit your voolness and ze rhum you vas trink below, mitout minting your duty. Oh, yase, you vas more bad dan one vool, Mister Vlinders; I vas vatch yous ze whole of ze voyage, and I spik vat I zink and vat I zees!"

"Jee-rusalem, ye white-livered Dutchman!" screamed out the other, now white with rage, and with his eyes glaring like those of a tiger, as he threw out his arms and rushed at Jan Steenbock, "I'll give ye goss fur ev'ry lyin' word ye hev sed agen me, ye bet. I'm a raal Down-East alligator, I am, ye durned furrin reptyle! Ye'll wish ye wer never rizzed or came athwart my hawse, my hearty, afore I've plugged ye out an' done with ye, bo, I guess; for I'm a regular screamer from Chicago, I am, an' I'll wipe the side-walk with ye, I will!"

This was 'tall talk,' as Hiram remarked, he and several others of the crew having turned out from their bunks by this time, roused by the altercation, all gathering together in the waist, full of interest and expectancy at witnessing such an unwonted treat as a free fight between their officers. But, the first-mate's brave words, mouth them out as he did with great vehemence and force of expression, did not frighten the stalwart Dane, self-possessed and cool to the last, one whit.

No, not a bit of it.

Quietly putting himself into an easy position of defence, with his right arm guarding his face and body, Jan Steenbock, throwing out his left fist with a rapidity of movement quite unexpected in one of his slow, methodical demeanour, caught the blustering Yankee, as he advanced on him with hostile thoughts intent, full butt between the eyes, the blow being delivered straight from the shoulder and having sufficient momentum to have felled an ox.

At all events, it was enough for Mr Flinders.

Whack!

It resounded through the ship; and, uttering a half-stifled cry, the mate measured his length along the deck, the back of his head knocking against the planks with a sound that seemed to be the echo of the blow that brought him low, though softer and more like a thud—tempered and toned down, no doubt, by the subduing effect of distance!

This second assault on his thick skull, however, instead of stunning him, as might have been imagined, appeared to bring the mate back to consciousness, and roused him indeed to further action; for, scrambling up from his recumbent position, with his face showing unmistakable marks of the fray already, and his eyes not glaring quite so much, for they were beginning to close up, he got on his feet again, and squared up to Jan Steenbock, with his arms swinging round like those of a windmill.

He might just as well have tried to batter down a stone wall, under the circumstances, as endeavour to break down the other's guard by any such feeble attempt, although both were pretty well matched as to size and strength.

Jan paid no attention to his roundabout and random onslaught, fending off his ill-directed blows easily enough with his right arm, which was well balanced, a little forward across his chest, protecting him from every effort of his enemy.

He just played with him for a minute, during which the Yankee mate, frothing with fury and uttering all sorts of terrible threats, that were as powerless to hurt Jan as his pointless attack, danced round his watchful antagonist like a pea on a hot griddle; and then, the Dane, tired at length of the fun, advancing his left, delivered another terrific drive from the shoulder that tumbled Mr Flinders backwards under the hood of the booby hatch, where he nearly floored Captain Snaggs, on his way up from the cuddy—the skipper having been also aroused by the tumult, the scene of the battle being almost immediately over his swinging cot, and the concussion of the first-mate's head against the deck having awakened him before his time, which naturally did not tend to improve his temper.

"Hillo, ye durned Cape Cod sculpin!" he gasped out, Mr Flinders' falling body having caught him full in the stomach and knocked all the wind out of him. "Thet's a kinder pretty sorter way to come tumblin' down the companion, like a mad bull in fly time! What's all this infarnal muss about, hey?"

So shouting, between his pauses to take breath, the skipper shoved the mate before him out of the hatchway, repeating his question again when both had emerged on the poop. "Now, what's this infarnal muss about, hey?"

Taken thus in front and rear Mr Flinders hardly knew what to say, especially as Jan Steenbock's fist had landed on his mouth, loosening his teeth and making the blood flow, his countenance now presenting a pitiable spectacle, all battered and bleeding.

"The—the—thet durned skallawag thaar hit me, sirree," he stammered and stuttered, spitting out a mouthful of blood and a couple of his front teeth, which had been driven down his throat almost by Jan Steenbock's powerful blow. "He—he tried to—to take my life. He did so, cap. But, I guess I'll be even with him, by thunder!—I'll soon rip my bowie inter him, an' settle the coon; I will so, you bet!"

Mr Flinders fumbled at his waistbelt as he spoke, trying to pull out the villainous-looking, dagger-hilted knife he always carried there, fixed in a sheath stuck inside the back of his trousers; but his rage and excitement making his hand tremble with nervous trepidation, Captain Snaggs was able to catch his arm in time and prevent his drawing the ugly weapon.

"No ye don't, mister; no ye don't, by thunder! so long's I'm boss hyar," cried the skipper. "Ef ye fits aboord my shep, I reckon ye'll hev to fit fair, or else reckon up with Ephraim O Snaggs; yes, so, mister, thet's so. I'll hev no knifing aboord my ship!"

The captain appeared strangely forgetful of his own revolver practice in the case of poor Sam Jedfoot, and also of his having ran a-muck and nearly killed the helmsman and Morris Jones, the steward, thinking he was still in pursuit of the negro cook—which showed the murderous proclivities of his own mind, drunk or sober. However, all the same, he stopped the first-mate now from trying to use his knife; although the latter would probably have come off the worst if he had made another rush at Jan Steenbock, who stood on the defence, prepared for all emergencies.

"No, ye don't. Stow it, I tell ye, or I'll throttle ye, by thunder!" said the skipper, shaking Mr Flinders in his wiry grasp like a terrier would a rat; while, turning to Jan, he asked: "An' what hev ye ter say about this darned muss—I s'pose it's six o' one an' half-dozen o' t'other, hey?"

"Misther Vlinders vas roosh to sthrike me, and I vas knock hims down," said Jan Steenbock, in his laconic fashion. "He vas get oop and roosh at me vonce mores, and I vas knock hims down on ze deck again; and zen, you vas coom oop ze hatchway, and dat vas all."

"But, confound ye!" cried the other, putting in his spoke, "you called me a fule fust!"

"So ye air a fule," said Captain Snaggs, "an' a tarnation fule, too, I reckon—the durndest fule I ever seed; fur the old barquey wouldn't be lyin' hyar whaar she is, I guess, but fur yer durned pigheadedness!"

"Zo I vas zay," interposed Jan Steenbock. "I das tell hims it vas all bekos he vas one troonken vool dat we ras wreck, zir."

"Ye never sed a truer word, mister," replied the skipper, showing but little sympathy for Mr Flinders, whom he ordered to go below and wash his dirty face, now the 'little unpleasantness' between himself and his brother mate was over. "Still, hyar we air, I guess, an' the best thing we ken do is ter try an' get her off. Whaar d'yer reckon us to be, Mister Steenbock, hey?"

"On ze Galapagos," answered the second-mate modestly, in no ways puffed up by his victory over the other or this appeal to his opinion by Captain Snaggs, who, like a good many more people in the world, worshipped success, and was the first to turn his back on his own champion when defeated. "I zink ze sheep vas shtruck on Abingdon Island. I vas know ze place, cap'n; oh, yase, joost zo!"

"Snakes an' alligators, mister! Ye doan't mean ter say ye hev been hyar afore, hey?"

"Ja zo, cap'n," replied Jan Steenbock, in his slow and matter-of-fact way, taking he other's expression literally; "but dere vas no shnake, dat I vas zee, and no alligator. Dere vas nozings but ze terrapin tortoise and ze lizards on ze rocks! I vas here one, doo, dree zummers ago, mit a drading schgooner vrom Guayaquil after a cargo of ze orchilla weed, dat fetch goot price in Equador. I vas sure it vas Abingdon Islant vrom dat tall big peak of montane on ze port side dat vas cal't Cape Chalmers; vor, we vas anchor't to looard ven we vas hunting for ze weed orchilla and ze toordles."

"Oh, indeed," said the skipper. "I'll look at the chart an' take the sun at noon, so to kalkerlate our bearin's; but I guess ye're not fur out, ez I telled thet dodrotted fule of a Flinders we'd be safe ter run foul o' the cussed Galapagos if we kept thet course ez he steered! Howsomedever, let's do sunthin', an' not stan' idling hyar no longer. Forrad, thaar, ye lot o' star-gazin', fly-catchin' lazy lubbers! make it eight bells an' call the watch to sluice down decks! Ye doan't think, me jokers, I'm goin' to let ye strike work an' break articles 'cause the shep's aground, do ye? Not if I knows it, by thunder! Stir yer stumps an' look smart, or some o' ye'll know the reason why!"

This made Tom Bullover and the other hands bustle about on the fo'c's'le, although buckets had to be lowered over the side aft to wash down the decks with, so as to clear away all the volcano dust that was still lying about, for the head-pump could not be used as usual on account of the forepart of the ship being high and dry.

Meanwhile, Hiram and I busied ourselves in the galley, blowing up the fire and getting the coffee ready for breakfast, so that ere long things began to look better.

The sun by this time was more than half-way up overhead, but as a steady south-west breeze was blowing in still from the sea right across our quarter, for the ship was lying on the sand with her bowsprit pointing north by west, the temperature was by no means so hot as might have been expected from the fact of our being so close to the Equator; and so, after our morning meal was over, the skipper had all hands piped to lighten the vessel, in order to prepare her for our going afloat again.

Captain Snaggs took the precaution, however, of getting out anchors ahead and astern, so as to secure her in her present position, so that no sudden shift of wind or rise of the tide might jeopardise matters before everything was ready for heaving her off, the sheet and starboard bower being laid out in seven-fathom water, some fifty yards aft of the rudder post, in a direct line with the keel, so that there should be as little difficulty as possible in kedging her. These anchors were carried out to sea by a gang of men in the jolly-boat, which was let down amidships just where we were awash, by a whip and tackle rigged up between the main and crossjack yards for the purpose.

By the time this was done, from the absence of any shadow cast by the sun, which was high over our mastheads, it was evidently close on to noon; so, the skipper brought his sextant and a big chart he had of the Pacific on deck, spreading the latter over the cuddy skylight, while he yelled out to the dilapidated Mr Flinders, who was repairing damages below, to watch the chronometer and mark the hour when he sang out.

Captain Snaggs squinted through the eye-glass of his instrument for a bit with the sextant raised aloft, as if he were trying to stare old Sol out of countenance.

"Stop!" he sang out in a voice of thunder. "Stop!"

Then he took another observation, followed by a second stentorian shout of "Stop!"

A pause ensued, and then he roared below to Mr Flinders, asking him what he made it, the feeble voice of the first-mate giving him in return the Greenwich time as certified by the chronometer; when after a longish calculation and measuring of distances on the chart, with a pair of compasses and the parallel ruler, Captain Snaggs gave his decision in an oracular manner, with much wagging of his goatee beard.

"I guess yo're about right this journey, Mister Steenbock," he said, holding up the chart for the other's inspection. "I kalkelate we're jest in latitood 0 degrees 32 minutes north, an' longitood 90 degrees 45 minutes west—pretty nigh hyar, ye see, whaar my finger is on this durned spec, due north'ard of the Galapagos group on the Equator. This chart o' mine, though, don't give no further perticklers, so I reckon it must be Abingdon Island, ez ye says, ez thet's the furthest north, barrin' Culpepper Island, which is marked hyar, I see, to the nor'-west, an' must be more'n fifty leagues, I guess, away."

"Joost zo," replied Jan Steenbock, mildly complacent at his triumph. "I vas zink zo, and I zays vat I zink!"

The point being thus satisfactorily settled, the men had their dinner, which Hiram and I had cooked in the galley while the anchors were being got out and the skipper was taking his observation of the sun; and then, after seeing that everything was snug in the caboose, I was just about sneaking over the side to explore the strange island and inspect more closely the curious animals I had noticed, when Captain Snaggs saw me from the poop and put the stopper on my little excursion.

"None o' y'r skulking my loblolly b'y!" he shouted out. "Jest ye lay aloft an' send down the mizzen-royal. This air no time fur skylarkin' an' jerymanderin'. We wants all hands at work."

With that, I had, instead of enjoying myself ashore as I had hoped, to mount up the rigging and help the starboard watch in unbending the sails, which, when they reached the deck, were rolled up by the other watch on duty below, and lowered to the beach over the side, where they were stowed in a heap on the sand above high-water mark.

The lighter spars were next sent down, and then the upper and lower yards by the aid of strong purchases, all being similarly placed ashore, with the ropes coiled up as they were loosed from their blocks and fastenings aloft; so, by the time sunset came the ship was almost a sheer hulk, only her masts and standing rigging remaining.

Poor old thing, she was utterly transformed, lying high and dry there, with all her top hamper gone, and shorn of all her fair proportions!

I noticed this when I came down from aloft, the Denver City looking so queer from the deck, with her bare poles sticking up, like monuments erected to her past greatness; but, although I was tired enough with all the jobs I had been on, unreeling ropes, and knotting, and splicing, and hauling, till I hardly knew whether I stood on my head or my heels, I was not too tired to take advantage of the kind offer Hiram made me when I went into the galley to help get the men's tea ready.

"Ye ken skip, Cholly, an' hev a lark ashore, ef ye hev a mind to," said he; "I'll look arter the coppers."

Didn't I 'skip,' that's all.

I was down the sides in a brace of shakes, and soon wandering at my own sweet will about the beach, wondering at everything I saw—the lava bed above the sand, the tall, many-armed cactus plants, with their fleshy fingers and spikes at the ends, like long tenpenny nails, the giant tortoises, which hissed like snakes as they waddled out of my path— wondering, aye, wondering at everything!

Hearing the cooing of doves again, as I had done in the morning, I followed the sound, and presently came to a small grove of trees on an incline above the flat lava expanse, to the right of the head of the little bay where the ship was stranded.

Here grass and a species of fern were growing abundantly around a pool of water, fed from a tiny rivulet that trickled down from the cliff above; and I had no sooner got under the shelter of the leafy branches than I was surrounded by a flock of the pretty grey doves whose gentle cooing I had heard.

They were so tame that they came hopping on my head and outstretched hand, and I was sorry I had not brought some biscuit in my pocket, so that I might feed them.

It was so calm and still in the mossy glade that I threw myself down on the grass, remaining until it got nearly dark, when I thought it about time to return to the ship, though loth to leave the doves, who cooed a soft farewell after me, which I continued to hear long after I lost sight of them.

I got back to the shore safely without further adventure, until I was close under the ship, when I had a fearful fright from a huge tortoise that I ran against, and which seemed to spit in my face, it hissed at me so viciously.

It must have been four feet high at least, and what its circumference was goodness only knows, for I could have laid down on its back with ease, as it was as broad as a table.

I did not attempt to do this, however, but scrambled up the ship's side as quickly as I could, and made my way to the galley, in order to get my tea, which Hiram had promised to keep hot for me.

Outside the galley, though, I met the American, who frightened me even more than the big tortoise had done the minute before.

"Say, Cholly," he cried, his voice trembling with terror, "thet ghost of the nigger cook air hauntin' us still; I seed him thaar jest now, a-sottin' in the corner of the caboose an' a-playin' on his banjo, ez true ez I'm a livin' sinner!"



CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE GOLDEN MADONNA.

"My goodness! you don't mean that, Hiram?" I exclaimed, seeing from his earnest manner that he was not trying to hoax me, but stating what he really believed to be a fact. "When was it that you saw the ghost?"

"Jest on sundown, Cholly, arter the men hed thaar tea an' cleared out, the whole bilin' ov 'em, skipper an' all, goin' ashore, like ez ye did, sonny, afore 'em, to prospect the country an' look at the big turtle an' other streenge varmint. Thaar warn't a soul left aboard but thet brute Flinders an' myself; an' he wer so basted by the lickin' ez Jan Steenbock giv him thet he wer lyin' down in the cabin an' pizenin' hisself with rum to mend matters. But, I wer thet dead beat, with shiftin' gear an' sendin' down yards, thet I wer fit fur nuthin' but ter lean over the gangway an' smoke a pipe afore turnin' in, fur I wer mighty tired out, I wer!"

"You must have been, Hiram," said I, "for, I'm sure I was, and am so still."

"Yes, I wer dead beat, an' thaar I rested agen the gangway, smokin' an' lookin' at the chaps that wer a-skylarkin' with a big turtle they had capsized on ter his back, so ez he couldn't make tracks; when all at oncest I thort o' the galley fire a-goin' out an' yer tea, Cholly, ez I promist to keep bilin', an' so I made back fur the caboose. It wer then close on dark, an' a sorter fog beginnin' to spring from seaward afore the land breeze riz an' blew it orf."

"And then," I put in, on his pausing at this point, hanging on his words intently, "what happened then?"

"Lord sakes! Cholly, it kinder makes the creeps come over me to tell you," he replied, with a shudder, while his voice fell impressively. "I wer jest nigh the galley when I heerd a twang on the banjo, same ez poor old Sam used ter giv' the durned thin' afore he began a-playin' on it—a sorter loudish twang, as if he gripped all the strings at oncet; an' then, ther' come a softer sort o' toonfal 'pink-a-pink-a-pong, pong,' an' I guess I heerd a wheezy cough, ez if the blessed old nigger wer clarin' his throat fur to sing—I did, so!"

"Goodness gracious, Hiram!" I ejaculated, breathless with expectation, "you must have been frightened!"

"I wer so," he replied—"I wer so skeart thet I didn't know what ter dew; but, thinks I, let's see if anythin's thaar; an' so I jest look't round the corner o' the galley through the half-door, an', b'y, thaar I seed Sam a-sottin', ez I sed, an' a-playin' his banjo ez nat'rel ez ever wer!"

"But the banjo wasn't there last night," I interposed here. "I looked for it almost as soon as we heard the sound of it being played at the time of the earthquake, and I couldn't see it hanging up over the door where Tom Bullover, you remember, pointed it out to us."

"Wa-all, all I ken say is thet I seed the ghostess with the durned thin' thaar in his grip. I didn't wait fur to see no more, I can tell ye, Cholly!"

"What did you do?"

"I jest made tracks for the fo'c's'le, an' turned inter my bunk, I wer so skeart, till the skipper an' the rest o' the hands came aboard ag'in, when I comed out an' stood hyar a-waitin' fur ye. I ain't seed Tom Bullover yet; so ye're the fust I hev told o' the sperrit hauntin' us agen, Cholly."

"Do you think it's gone yet?" I asked; "perhaps it is still there."

"I dunno," he replied. "P'raps ye'd best go fur to see. I'm jiggered if I will!"

I hesitated at this challenge; it was more than I bargained for.

"It's all dark now," I said, glancing towards the galley, from which no gleam came, as usual, across the deck, as was generally the case at night-time; "I suppose the fire has gone out?"

"'S'pose it air," answered Hiram; "guess it's about time it wer, b'y, considerin' I wer jest a-going fur to make it up when I seed Sam. I reckon, though, if ye hev a mind fur to look in, ye can get a lantern aft from the stooard. I seed him a-buzzin' round the poop jest now, fur he hailed me ez he poked his long jib-boom of a nose up the companion; but, I didn't take no notice o' the cuss, fur I wer outer sorts like, feelin' right down chawed up!"

"All right," said I, anxious to display my courage before Hiram, his fright somehow or other emboldening me. "I will get a lantern at once and go into the galley."

So saying, I went along the deck aft, passing into the cuddy by the door under the break of the poop, and there I found Morris Jones, the steward, in the pantry.

He was putting a decanter and glass on a tray for the captain, who was sitting in the cabin, preparing for a jollification after his exertions of the day; for he had returned in high glee from his inspection of the ship's position with Jan Steenbock, whom he took with him to explain the different points of land and the anchorage.

Jan Steenbock was just leaving the skipper as I entered, refusing, as I surmised from the conversation, his pressing invitation to have a parting drink—a sign of great cordiality with him.

"Wa-all, hev yer own way, but a drop o' good rum hurts nary a one, ez I ken see," I heard Captain Snaggs say. "Good-night, Mister Steenbock. I guess we'll set to work in airnest ter-morrer, an' see about gettin' the cargy out to lighten her; an' then, I reckon, mister, we'll try y'r dodge o' diggin' a dock under her."

"Yase, dat vas goot," said the Dane, in his deep voice, in answer. "We will dig oop the zand vrom her kil: an' zen, she vill vloat, if dere vas no leaks an' she vas not hoort her back by taking ze groond."

"Jest so," replied the skipper; and Morris Jones having gone into the cabin with the glasses and water on his tray, I heard a gurgling sound, as if Captain Snaggs was pouring out some of his favourite liquor and gulping it down. "Ah, I feel right chunky arter thet, I guess! Yes, Mister Steenbock, we'll float her right off; fur, I don't think she's started a plank in her; an' if we shore her up properly we ken dig the sand from under her, ez ye sez, an' then she'll go off ez right ez a clam, when we brings a warp round the capstan from the ankers astern."

"Ja zo," agreed Jan Steenbock. "We vill wait and zee."

"Guess not," retorted the skipper. "We'll dew better, we'll work and try, me joker, an' dew thet right away smart ter-morrer!"

Captain Snaggs sniggered at this, as if he thought it a joke; and then, I could hear Jan Steenbock wish him good-night, leaving him to his rum and the companionship of Mr Flinders—who must have smelt the liquor, for I caught his voice muttering something about being 'durned dry,' but I did not listen any longer, looking out for the steward, who presently followed Jan Steenbock out of the cabin.

"Well, younker, what d'ye want?" Morris Jones asked me, when he came up to where I was still standing alongside his pantry. "I didn't have time to speak to ye afore. What is it?"

"I want a lantern," said I. "The galley fire's gone out."

"All right, here you are, you can take this," he replied, handing me one he had lit. "Any more ghostesses about forrud? That blessed nigger's sperrit oughter go ashore, now we've come to this outlandish place, and leave us alone!"

"You'd better not joke about it," I said solemnly. "Hiram has seen something awful to-night."

"What d'ye mean?" he cried, turning white in a moment, as I could see by the light of the lantern, and all his braggadocio vanishing. "What d'ye mean?"

"Only not to halloo too loud till you're out of the wood," said I, going off forwards. "Hiram has seen Sam's ghost again, that's all!"

I felt all the more encouraged by this little passage of arms with the funky Welshman; so, I marched up to the galley door as brave as brass, holding out, though, the lantern in front of me, to light up the place, Hiram, ashamed of his own fears, coming up close behind, and looking in over my shoulder.

Neither of us, though, saw any cause for alarm, for there was no one there; and I was inclined to believe that Hiram had fallen asleep and dreamt the yarn he told me, the more especially as there was a strong smell of tobacco about the place, as if some one had been there recently smoking.

The American, however, was indignant at the bare suggestion of this.

"What d'yer take me fur, Cholly," he said. "I tell ye I seed him a-sottin' down thaar in thet corner, an' heerd the banjo ez plain ez if it wer a-playin' now! Look at the fire, too; ain't that streenge? It wer jest a-staggerin' out when I comed hyar fur to put on some more wood to make it burn up, an' thaar it air now, ez if some one hez jest been a-lightin' on it!"

It was as he said. The fire seemed to have been fresh lit, for there was even a piece of smouldering paper in the stoke hole.

It was certainly most mysterious, if Hiram had not done it, which he angrily asserted he had not, quite annoyed at my doubting his word.

While I was debating the point with him, Tom Bullover appeared at the door, with his usual cheerful grin.

"Hullo!" cried he; "what's the row between you two?"

Thereupon Hiram and I both spoke at once, he telling his version of the story and I mine.

"Well, don't let such foolish nonsense make you ill friends," said Tom, grinning. "I dare say you're both right, if matters could only be explained—Hiram, in thinking he saw Sam's ghost, and you, Charley, in believing he dreamt it all out of his head. As for the fire burning up, I can tell you all about that, for seeing it just at the last gasp, I stuck in a bit of paper and wood to light it, so as to be more cheerful. I likewise lit my own pipe arterwards, which fully accounts for what you fellows couldn't understand."

"Thaar!" exclaimed Hiram triumphantly; "I tolled you so, Cholly."

"All right," I retorted. "It's just as I said, and there's nothing mysterious about it."

Each of us remained of his own opinion, but Tom Bullover chaffed us out of all further argument, and we presently followed the example of the other hands, who were asleep snoring in the fo'c's'le, and turned into our bunks; while Tom went aft to relieve Jan Steenbock as look-out, there being no necessity for all of the watch to be on deck, the ship being ashore, and safer even than if she had been at anchor.

In the morning, I was roused up by the cooing doves again, and the very first man I met after turning out was Morris Jones, who looked seedy and tired out, as if he had been awake all night.

"What's the matter?" I asked him, as he came into the galley, where I was busy at my morning duty, getting the coppers filled for the men's coffee, and poking up the fire, which still smouldered, for I had banked it, so as to keep it alight after I turned in. "Anything happened?"

"You were right, Cholly, in tellin' me not to holler till I was out of the wood last night," he said solemnly. "I seed thet arterwards the same as Hiram!"

"Saw what?"

"The nigger's ghost."

"Nonsense!" I cried, bursting out into a laugh, his face looked so woe-begone, while his body seemed shrunk, giving him the most dilapidated appearance. "You must have been taking some of the cap'en's rum."

"None o' your imperence, master Cholly," said he, aiming a blow at my head, which I dexterously avoided. "I never touches none o' the skipper's ruin; I wouldn't taste the nasty stuff now, after all I've seen it's done. No, I tell you straight, b'y, I ain't lying. I see Sam Jedfoot last night as ever was, jest soon arter you went away from the cuddy with the lantern."

"You did?"

"Yes, I'll take my davy on it. He comed right through the cabin, and walked past my pantry, stepping over the deck jest as if he was alive; and then I saw something like a flash o' light'ing, and when I looked agen, being blinded at first, there he were a-floating in the air, going out o' sight over the side."

"Did you go to see what had become of him?" I said jokingly, on hearing this. "Where did he make for when he got over the side?"

"I didn't look no more," answered the steward, taking my inquiry in earnest. "I were too frightened."

"What did you do, then?"

"I just stopped up there in my pantry all night, locking the door, so as to prevent no one from getting in. Aye, I kep' two lights burning, to scare the ghost if he should come again; and theer I stop't till daylight, when I heard you stirring, and comed here to speak to you, glad to see a human face agen, if only a beast of a b'y like you—far them sperrits do make a chap feel quar all over! Besides, too, the fear o' seeing the blamed thing agen, I thought the skipper, who was drinking awful arter Jan Steenbock left, he and Flinders having a regular go in at the rum, might have another fit o' the horrors, and bust out on me with his revolver. Lor, I 'ave 'ad a night on it, I can tell you!"

"Poor fellow! wait and have a pan of coffee," said I sympathisingly, pitying his condition and not minding his polite allusion to me as a 'beast of a boy,' which no doubt my manner provoked. "It will soon be ready."

"I will," he replied, thoroughly beaten and speaking to me civilly for the first time. "Thank ye, kindly, Cholly!"

By-and-by the crew turned out; and, after having their coffee, began again the same work they had been at the previous day of lightening the ship, Captain Snaggs superintending operations, and not looking a bit the worse for his drinking bout in which Morris Jones said he had spent the night with his kindred spirit, Mr Flinders.

The scene on the beach all that day and the next was a busy one, all hands hard at it unloading the Denver City, preparatory to our trying to restore her to her native element, the sea—which latter rippled up along her dry timbers forward, as far as the mizzen-chains, the furthest point where she was aground, with a lisping sound, it seemed to me, as if wooing her to come back and float on its bosom again once more, as of yore!

A great deal more had to be effected, however, before this could be accomplished, for a sort of dock, or trench, had to be dug out beneath the vessel's keel, so as to bring the water beneath her and help to lift her off the sandbank where she was stranded; and this could not be done in a day, work we our hardest, despite the men taking shifts turn and turn about by watches at the task.

Fortunately, while unloading the cargo, a lot of pickaxes were found amongst the miscellaneous assortment of 'notions' stowed in the main-hold; and these now came in handy, the hands learning to wield them just as if they had been born navvies, after a bit, under the experienced direction of Captain Snaggs, who said he had been a Californian miner during a spell he had ashore at one period of his life.

On the third day of this labour, the dock was becoming perceptibly deep amidships and the water beginning to ooze through the sand; when, all at once, Tom Bullover, who was wielding a pick like the rest, struck the point of it against something which gave out a clear metallic ring.

After a dig or two more, he excavated the object, which, preserved in the lava that lay beneath the sand and shells on the beach, was found to be an image of the Virgin, such as you see in Roman Catholic countries abroad. It was of a bright yellow colour and shining, as if just turned out of a jeweller's shop.

It was a golden Madonna!



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

JAN STEENBOCK GETS CONFIDENTIAL.

"My stars, Chips!" exclaimed Hiram, who was standing near by when Tom Bullover held up his treasure-trove to view. "What hev ye got thaar, ship met?"

"Sorry o' me knows," returned the other, examining the object closely. "Seems like one o' them blessed saints they has in the cathedral at Lima, which I went over one day last v'y'ge I took this side, when I sailed from Shields to Valparaiso, and arterwards come up the coast, our skipper looking out for a cargy, instead o' going back home in ballast. It seems a pretty sort o' himage, too, bo, and I'm hanged if I don't think it's gold, for it's precious heavy for its size, I can tell you!"

"Chuck it over hyar an' let's see what it's like," said Hiram, his curiosity at once roused. "I'll soon tell ye if it's hunkydory ez soon ez I hev the handlin' on it; fur I ken smell the reel sort, I guess, an' knows it likewise by the feel it kinder hez about it."

"Right you are, bo," sang out Tom Bullover, pitching it towards him. "Catch!"

"Bully far yer!" cried Hiram, putting up his hands and clutching hold of the figure as, well thrown by the other, it came tumbling into his ready grasp. "I'll soon tell ye what it's made on, I reckon!"

He thereupon proceeded to inspect the object carefully, giving it a lick of his tongue and rough polish with his palms, to remove the dirt and dust with which it was partly encrusted, sniffing at it and handling it as if it were a piece of putty.

"Well, bo," asked Tom at length, tired of waiting and eager to learn the result of the other's examination; "is it all right?"

"You bet," responded Hiram, tossing up the image in the air and catching it again, and raising a triumphant shout that at once attracted the attention of the other hands, who dropped their pickaxes and shovels instanter and came clustering round. "I'm jiggered if it ain't gold, an' durned good metal, too, with nary a bit o' bogus stuff about it. Hooray!"

"Hooray!" yelled out the rest of the men in sympathy, the precious figure being passed round from one to another, so that each could see it in turn and judge for himself. "Hooray!"

"Hillo!" cried Captain Snaggs, noticing the commotion and coming bustling up, with his wiry goatee beard bristling and his pointed nose and keen eyes all attention. "What d'ye mean droppin' work an loafin' up hyar in a crowd, makin' all that muss fur, hey?"

"We've just found this here figger, sir," explained Tom Bullover; "and Hiram says it's made o' gold."

"Thet's so, cap," corroborated the American sailor. "It air all thet; an' goold of good grit, I reckon, too, or I'll swaller the durned lump, I will, without sass!"

"Humph!" snorted the skipper, holding out his hand for it; "give us holt, an' I'll prospect it fur ye, if ye like. They usest to tell me I warn't a bad jedge when I wer at the Carraboo diggin's an' went in fur minin'."

The little image of the Madonna was accordingly handed to him, and the skipper's nose wrinkled up, and twitched and jerked sideways, while his billy-goat beard bristled out like a porcupine's quills, as he sniffed and examined the figure, turning it over and over in his hands and feeling it, the same as Hiram had done. He even went so far as to pinch it.

"Jee-rusalem!" he at length exclaimed; "it's gold, sure enuff!"

"Hooray!" again burst from the men around. "Hooray!"

"I don't see nothin' to holler fur," said Captain Snaggs, in response to this, bringing them up, as the saying goes, 'with a round turn,' as he turned round angrily. "Guess ye won't find no more o' the same sort skatin' round the ranche!"

But, just then, Jan Steenbock came on the scene.

He had been busily engaged overseeing the construction of a species of coffer-dam across the shore at right angles and up to the keel of the ship at the point where the tide came up to, just by the mizzen-chains; so that the water should not get down into the excavation that the men were digging until this should be deep enough to float the vessel, or, at all events, assist in easing her off the beach—for, if flooded prematurely, the labour would be doubled.

The hands helping him having, however, deserted for the nonce and joined the rest of the crowd around Tom Bullover and Hiram, he came up, also, to the spot where all of us were standing, with the object of coaxing his gang back to their task. The sound of the men's wild shout and the skipper's voice, raised in anger, as he thought, hastened his footsteps, too, for he feared that some mischief was brewing, and that the crew had mutinied at the least.

The moment he got near, though, he could perceive, from the grinning faces and expression of those close by, that nothing very desperate was in the wind; and, he was just on the point of asking what the row was about, when, all at once, he caught sight of the image.

"Mein Gott!" he ejaculated, looking the picture of astonishment, and more excited than I had ever seen him, from the first day I stepped on board the ship until now,—"it vas ze Madonna of ze golt. Ze Madonna of ze golt!"

We all stared at him, filled with wonder at his apparent recognition of the figure. The skipper, however, at once interrogated him on the point.

"Jehosophat, mister!" cried Captain Snaggs, with mixed curiosity and impatience—"what d'ye mean? Hev ye ever seed this hyar figger afore?"

"Yase," said the Dane, in his deep voice; "yase, I vas zee him one long time befores I vas know him ver' well!"

"Thunder, ye don't mean it! What, this durned identical image?"

"Yase, mitout doubt. I vas know dat zame idenzigal vigure," replied the other imperturbably, his passing fit of excitement having cooled, leaving him as calm and impassive as usual. "It vas ze Madonna of ze golt dat we vas loose overboart from ze schgooners, one, doo, dree year ago."

The skipper looked at him, without speaking further for a second or more, Jan Steenbock confronting him as steadfastly and placidly as a periwinkle might have been under the circumstances; while all of us around gazed at them both, open-mouthed with expectancy.

"What d'ye mean?" presently said Captain Snaggs, breaking the silence; "what schooner air ye talkin' on?"

"Ze schgooners dat I vas zail in vrom Guayaquil dat time as I tell yous, vor to gatoh ze orchillas veeds."

"But, mister, say, what hez thet stuff, which in coorse I knows on, to do with this durned old image hyar?" again interrogated the skipper, in an incredulous tone. "I guess ye air gettin' a bit kinder mixed up, an' yer yarn don't hitch on an' run smooth like!"

"Joost zo," returned the imperturbable second-mate, in no way disturbed by this impeachment of his veracity. "You joost vait; I vas hab zometing vor to zay. Joost vait and I vas tell yous."

"Carry on then," said Captain Snaggs impatiently. "By thunder! ye air ez long gettin' under way, I guess, ez a Cape Cod pilot. Fire away, an' be durned to ye, an' tell us the hull bilin', mister!"

Jan Steenbock, however, would not allow himself to be hurried in this fashion. Quite unmoved by the skipper's impatience, he went on in his slow, deliberate way, all of us listening with the keenest attention and steadying ourselves for a good yarn.

"It vas dree year ago dat I vas meet mit Cap'en Shackzon, of ze schgooners Mariposa, at Guayaquil," he began sententiously, clearing his throat, and seeming to speak in deeper and deeper tones as he proceeded with his narrative. "He vas go, he tells me, vor a drading voy'ge to ze Galapagos Islants, and vas vant a zecond-mate, and vas ask me vor to come mit hims."

"An' ye wented," interrupted the skipper—"hey?"

"Yase, I vas go! Cap'en Shackzon zays, zays he, bevore we sdart, dat ze schgooners vas to zail vor Jarls Islant, call't by ze Sbaniards 'Vloreana,' vere dere vas a lot of beeples vrom Equador dat collect ze orchilla veeds, and vas drade likevise to ze mainland mit ze hides and zalt veesh, and ozer tings."

"I reckon all thet don't consarn us, mister," said the skipper, arresting any further enumeration of the exports from Charles Island; "an' so, ye went thaar to trade, hey?"

"Nein," came Jan Steenbock's unexpected answer; "ze schgooners vas not go to Jarls Islant."

"Jee-rusalem!" exclaimed the skipper, taken aback by this naive announcement. "Then, whaar in thunder did ye go?"

"Vait, and I vas tell yous," said the other calmly, going on with his story in his own way. "Ven we vas zail vrom Guayaquil and vas at zee zome days, Cap'en Shackzon zays to me, zays he, 'I vas engage yous'—dat vas me—'vor and bekos I vas vant a man dat I can droost, mit all dis crew of gut-throat Sbaniards arount me. Can yous be zeegret and keep in ze gonfidence vat I tells you?' In ze course, I vas zay to Cap'en Shackzon 'yase;' and, den—"

"What happened?" eagerly asked Captain Snaggs; "what happened?"

"We zails to ze norzard," continued Jan, provokingly, refraining from disclosing at the moment the confidential communication he mentioned having been made to him. "We vas zail vor dree more day, and den we vas zee dat cap dere, dat Cap'en Shackzon vas zay is Cape Chalmers, and dat ze lant vas Abingdon Islant vere we vas now vas; and den he vas tell me his zeegret."

"An' thet wer what, eh, mister?" said the skipper, while all of us hung on his words, breathless now with excitement, our curiosity being aroused to the highest pitch. "Don't kep us a-waitin', thaar's a friendly coon, fur I guess we air amost bustin' to haar what thet air secret wer!"

"I beliefs zere vas no harms vor to tell?" observed the Dane reflectively, as if cogitating the matter over in his own mind and anxious to have another opinion to say whether or no his narration of the circumstances would be any breach of the trust reposed in him. "Cap'en Shackzon was det, and ze crew vas det, and zere vas nobozy dat vas aboart ze schgooners dat vas alifes but meinselfs."

"Nary a bit o' harm at all, mister, ez I ken see," said Captain Snaggs decisively; "not where ther' ain't no folk alive to complain o' ye tellin' on it. Nary a bit o' harm, I reckon!"

"Yase, I do not zee no harms," continued Jan Steenbock, as if he had now made up his mind on the point; "and zo I vas tell yous. Ze zeegret dat Cap'en Shackzon tell to me vas dat he hat discovert von dreazure in a cave in ze islant von day dat he vas plown into ze bay in a squall; and ven he vas go back to Guayaquil, he vas charter ze schgooners to zail back to ze islant again. He vas tell ze beeples dere dat he vas go vor ze orchilla veeds and ze toordle; but, he vas mean to dig oop ze dreazure and take hims back zogreetly in ze schgooners to ze mainland, as if he vas only hab ze orchilla veeds and ze toordle on boart. He zays to me, zays Cap'en Shackzon, 'ze Sbaniards in Equador is von bat lot, and vill murter a mans like one mosquito vor a tollar,' and he vas know dat zey vas kill hims if zey vas zink he vas hab ze dreazure on boart; and, dat vas ze reason dat he vas vant von man dat he coot droost, joost like meinselfs, mit hims!"

"A treasure hyar, mister," said the skipper, with his eyes aglow and his goatee beard bristling up, all agog at such news—"a treasure o' gold, hey?"

"Yase, yase," replied the other affirmatively; "oh, yase!"

"How come it hyar?"

"It vas burit by ze boocaneer in ze olt time—one, doo, dree huntert year ago," explained Jan. "Cap'en Shackzon vas zee it writ in von book dat he vas zee at Guayaquil; and den, ven he vas zail here, he vas come to de zame blace dat ze boocaneer spoke of in ze book and hat burit ze golt. It vas ze ploonder of ze churches of ze coast, dat ze boocaneers hat collect in von big heep and zegreet in ze cave till zey coot take hims avay mit dem, and dere it vas remain till Cap'en Shackzon vound it."

"He found it, hey?"

"Yase, he vind it von day, as I zays. His voot vas sdoomble in ze hole, and dat give vays; and den, he doombles into ze cave, and zee all ze dreasure of golt and silber and ozer tings."

"An' did ye see it, too, mister?" inquired Captain Snaggs anxiously. "Pyaps thet air coon wer only bamboozlin' ye, an' made up the yarn!"

"No, he vas not make it oop," replied Jan. "I vas zee dat Madonna of golt dere and ozer tings dat he vas bring back vrom ze cave ven we vas coom here in ze schgooners, and anchor't in ze bay dere as ze sheep vas now lay. But, Cap'en Shackzon vas von sdrange mans!"

"Thunder!" ejaculated the skipper, on the other pausing at this point, as if waiting for the question to be put. "How wer he streenge, mister, hey?"

"He vas like to keep zings to himselfs," said Jan Steenbock meaningly. "He vas not let me go to ze cave at all, and ze schgooner vas anchor't here in ze bay more dan a veek!"

"I s'pose he didn't want the crew—them rascally Spaniards ye spoke on— smellin' a rat an' spilin' his game, I reckon," suggested the skipper; "but how did he manage, hey?"

"He vas keep ze mans all day hunting for ze orchilla veeds up ze montane dere," replied Jan; "and den, ven ze night vas coom, he vas tell me to shtop on ze vatch, and den he vas go ashore to look for ze cave mit himselfs."

"He didn't spot it at once agen then?"

"Nein. He vas look in vain vor dree nights, and vas near give oop ze hoont in despair; but on ze ozer night he vas come back to ze schgooners in goot sbirrits, and zays to me, zays he, 'I vas vind ze cave at last.' He vas zo glat he vas laf mit joy and I vas laf, too!"

"I guess ye hed sunthin' to snigger over, hey?"

"Yase, joost zo! I vas laf mit him; and den, he vas bring oot dat Madonna dere, dat he vas hab stow avay in his shirt, and vas show it to me, and ze vigure vas shin in ze moonlight. Ah, dat vas bat; vor, von of ze Sbaniards of ze crew vas zee it shin in ze light and show ze golt, and he vas tell ze ozers—a pack of raskels—and ze whole game was oop vor us and ze dreazure!"

"How's thet, mister?" inquired the skipper, as Jan paused again here, his voice dropping. "Did the varmint spile ye?"

"Humph!" growled the other. "Dey vas spile zemselves! In ze mittle of ze night ze raskels go down into ze cabin vere Cap'en Shackzon vas ashleep and shtab him mit dere knifes. Den, zey shtole ze golt Madonna and brings it oop on ze deck; and den, zey get vighting vor ze vigure, and shtab von ze ozers, and dey vas vake me oop mit ze row, vor I vas tiret and vas ashleep in ze boate over ze taffrail."

"An' how did ye come off with a hull skin?" asked Captain Snaggs. "I guess ye wer in a durned tight corner."

"Zee goot Gott vatch overs me!" replied Jan Steenbock gravely, raising his eyes reverently upward as he uttered the word, "vor, in ze mittle of ze row, ven ze raskels vas all of zem murtering each ozers and ze deck vas rolling in bloot, a sudden gale vas spring oop; and ze schgooner vas dash on ze rocks dere to port, and she vas go down in ze deep vater, mit ze crew still vighting on ze deck to ze last. One—doo—dree—vore— mens vas already kil't, besides Cap'en Schackzon—ze lifing and ze det going down zogeder into de zee, mit ze golt Madonna dat you vas now vind!"

"An' how did ye scrape through, hey?"

"I vas schvim ashore," answered Jan Steenbock, in reply to this question from the skipper, who followed his recital carefully, with his inquisitive long nose twitching every now and then, and his billy-goat beard wagging as he nodded his head, watching apparently to catch the other tripping in his story. "I vas schvim ashore and go to landt all raite."

"What became o' ye then?"

"I vas shtop heres till I vas pick oop by a passing sheep."

"Her name, mister?" again interrogated Captain Snaggs, with keen pertinacity. "Thet is if ye reck'lects."

"Oh, yase, I vas remembers very well," rejoined the other, equal to the occasion. "She vas ze whaling barque Jemima Greens, of Bostone, I zinks."

"Thet's right; I knows her," interrupted the skipper, quite satisfied. "Joe Davis master, hey?"

"Yase, joost zo," replied the other, "dat vas ze name of ze cap'en, I remembers."

"An' how long did ye remain aboard her?"

"Vor more dan vore months. She vas veeshing vor ze whale ven she pick me oop vrom here; and I vas hab to vait till she vas load up mit ze oils, ven she vas go zouth, and landt me at Valparaizo. Vrom dat port I vas vork mein passage back to England ze next zommer—and dat vas dree year ago."

"Waal, thet's a tall yarn, anyhow," said the skipper, when Jan Steenbock had thus concluded his strange history; "but, dew ye mean ter say ez how ye hev never ben nigh this place hyar agen sin' thet time?"

"Nein," replied the other frankly, "nevaire!"

"What! d'ye mean ter say ez how ye hed no kinder sort o' curiosity like to find thet thaar cave, with the rest o' thet gold an' treasure what them old buccaneers stowed away so snug, 'specially arter seein' it wer' reel?"

"No, cap'en," said Jan Steenbock firmly, as if he had previously well considered all the bearings of the case and arrived at his final decision. "I vas nevaire likes vor to zee dat blace nor ze golt again— no, nevaire!"

"But, why, mister?" asked the skipper, with insatiable curiosity, winking to the hands round, to call their attention to the fact that he was about to take a rise out of the simple-hearted Dane, and 'trot him out,' as it were, for their mutual amusement. "Why shouldn't ye hanker arter seein' the gold agen, mister? I guess ye didn't hev too much on it afore; an', I'm durned if ye hev got much of a pile now, ez fur ez I ken see!"

Jan Steenbock's answer, however, completely staggered him, banishing all his merriment and facetiousness in an instant.

"It vas curst," said the Dane solemnly. "Ze golt and ze islandt and everyting vas shtink mit ze black man's bloot!"



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

WE DISCOVER THE CAVE.

"What d'ye mean?" Captain Snaggs managed to stammer out after a bit, his long face perceptibly longer and his rubicund complexion turned to an ashy grey. He was conscience-stricken and thoroughly frightened at the second-mate thus bringing up again, as he thought, his cruel murder of the negro cook; for, Jan Steenbock spoke in the same tone of voice, and pointed his finger at him like an accusing judge, in almost the same precise way he had done on that eventful day when we were off Scilly, three months before. "What in thunder d'ye mean, man?—what d'ye mean?"

"I vas mean vat I zays," answered the other calmly: "ze dreazure of ze boocaneer vas shtain mit ze bloot of von schlave."

"Oh," exclaimed the skipper, somewhat relieved by his not mentioning again Sam Jedfoot's name, as he and all of us believed the second-mate intended doing, imagining his remark to refer to none other than the poor darkey. "I don't kinder foller ye, mister, nohow, an it strikes me, it dew, ez if ye air gettin' sorter mixed up, same ez jest now! What d'ye mean a-talkin' o' durned nigger slaves an' sichlike? Thaar ain't none now, I reckon, under the Stars and Stripes this side, nor yit fur thet matter in the hull o' the land, from Maine to Californy, sin' the war busted up the great southern 'institooshun,' ez they call'd it in Virginny. Thaar ain't no slaves, sirree, now, I guess, on this hyar free an' almighty continent! What d'yer mean, hey?"

The men gave out another loud hooray at this stump speech, which the skipper, quite relieved of his fears anent any allusion to Sam Jedfoot, delivered with much unction, as if he were holding forth from a platform at election time, his billy-goat beard wagging while he threw his arms about in the excitement of his oratory.

Jan Steenbock, for the moment, seemed puzzled how to reply; for, he stood silently facing the other in the pause that ensued after he had finished his harangue.

At length, however, he spoke, the wild cheer of the hands spurring him up and giving an impulse to the slow current of his thoughts and words— the Dane not being prone, like Captain Snaggs, to talking for the mere pleasure of hearing his own voice.

"I vill egshblain vat I means," he began, in his deliberate way, answering the skipper's question, but speaking as if addressing all of us collectively, his deep tones getting deeper and increasing in volume as he proceeded, so that all could hear. "I vas shpeak vat I reat in ze book dat Cap'en Shackzon vas bringt mit him vrom Guayaquil in ze schgooners dat time. I vas likevise rec'lect vat I zees here ven we vas arrife, an' Cap'en Shackzon's vas murter't, and ze mans vas kill ze ozers, and dere vas nuzzing but bloot and murter; vor, ze schgooners vas go down, mit only meinselfs dat vas eshgape mit mein lifes—and zo I zays to meinselfs, dere vas a curse on ze golt and ze dreazure of ze boocaneer vrom ze bloot of ze schlave dat vas murter't!"

"Guess I don't foller ye yet, mister," said the skipper. "Who kil't thet air darkey ye air a-talkin' on, hey?"

"Ze boocaneer," promptly replied Jan. "Dey vas burit ze schlave vere dey vas burit ze dreazure."

"An' what did the cusses dew thet fur?"

"It vas to make ze Sbaniards and ze ozer beebles not vor to dig oop ze dreasure, or vor to go vere it vas burit. Zey vas zink dat ze sbirit of ze black man vas harmt dem and vork mizcheef, ze zame as vas done to hims, bekos he vas murter't vor ze dreazure. 'Bloot vor bloot' vas ze law of ze boocaneer, and dey vas zink dat ze black mans vas hab ze bloot of ze ozer mans dat coom vere his sbirit vas!"

"Oh, thet's the yarn ye hev got holt on!" exclaimed Captain Snaggs, with a grin on his face, winking round to us. "Guess ye ain't sich a durned fule ez ter swaller all thet bunkum, hey?"

"I doos belief it, vor it vas droo," answered Jan Steenbock very impressively. "Oh, yase, I vas zee it meinselfs. It vas droo as droo!"

"Wa-al," drawled out the skipper, with a snigger, which raised a sympathetic laugh from some of the men standing by, "thet beats ev'rythin' I ever know'd, it dew! Jest ter think of a straight up-an'-down coon like ye, mister, with raal grit in ye, a-believin' in sich a yarn ez thet!"

"I beliefs it, vor it vas droo," repeated the Dane, in no way discomposed by the other's ridicule. "I vas hab ze cause to beliefs!"

"What! Thet a durned nigger buried two hunder' year ago, or thaarabouts, hez the power to kinder hurt airy a livin' soul now?"

"I beliefs it," returned Jan, doggedly; adding, much to the skipper's discomfiture and banishing his merriment in a moment. "Dere vas sdrange zings habben zometimes. I vas hear ze mans zay dat ze ghost of ze cook dat you shoots vas hoont dees very sheeps!"

Captain Snaggs made no reply to this crushing rejoinder: but a sort of murmur of assent came from the others, while I caught Hiram's voice saying, "Thet's so; right enuff!"

"And zo, cap'en," went on the Dane, perceiving that he had scored a point, and that the laugh was no longer against him, "I van hab nuzzing vor to do mit ze dreazure of ze boocaneer, and I vas hopes not vor to zee it a gains. It vas accurst, as I vas zay, vor ze boocaneer zemselves vas not able vor to vind it after zay vas burit it; and den, ven Cap'en Shackzon vinds it, he vas also murter't, as the schlave vas, and his crew vas murter't zemselves! Ze boocaneer dreazure vas accurst and bringt goot to no beebles. And zo, cap'en, I zays; zays I, let us not mindt it at all, mit its bat look, but go on vor to dig oot ze dock for ze sheep. We vas vaste ze time for nuzzin', if we hoonts vor ze dreazure; and if we vinds it, we vas nevaire get no goot vrom it— nevaire, nozzing but bat!"

"Wa-all, thet's good advice, anyhow," said the skipper, thinking the palaver had lasted long enough. "Guess ye chaps bed better sot to work agen, ez Mister Steenbock sez. If we shu'd light on this air treesor, well enuff, but our fust job, I reckon, 's to get the shep afloat agen; an' we won't do thet, ye bet, by standin' hyar listenin' to ghost yarns an' sichlike! Now, ye jokers, let me see ye handlin' them picks agen. P'r'aps ye'll dig up another gold figger o' two; who knows?"

This set all hands busy, the men excavating the sand and hard lava from under the bilge of the vessel with an alacrity they had not displayed before; and, each man putting his heart to the job, the broad trench in which they were working was soon dug down considerably deeper than the level of the sea. To prevent the encroach of this latter all the stuff taken out was thrown up alongside, forming a sort of steep embankment on either hand, so that the Denver City looked by-and-by as if she had run her head into a railroad cutting, the coffer-dam fixed across the beach, right under her keel, by the mizzen-chains, where the water just came up to, blocking the entrance to our dock effectually. The ship herself aided us in this respect, by settling down more in the sand there as it became loosened, and we only had to take care now that the slight rise and fall of the tide should not cause too great a leakage into the trench between the keel below and the upper strakes of her timbers above, at the height to which the dam reached; and, after a while, although a little water did trickle through the wall of sand and lava forming the side of the excavation towards the sea, there was not a sufficient quantity of it to interfere with the labour of digging to any material extent, nor to arrest our efforts.

The men, indeed, wielded their picks as if anxious to make up for the half-hour or so that had been wasted since Tom Bullover found the golden Madonna.

Nor did they content themselves merely with digging.

A keen watch was kept, in case something else might turn up, and every piece of hard substance disinterred was carefully scrutinised; but, alas! no more golden images or nuggets of the precious metal gladdened our eyes! Nothing came in view but sand and lava, lava and sand, varied occasionally by the sight of some fragment of half-fossilised tortoise-shell, or the chalky bones of cuttlefish and similar debris of the deep, washed up by the sea, and buried a fathom deep and more amid the strata of the shore.

This was disappointing; still, the men comforted themselves with the reflection that they were really digging for something else beyond the mere chance of picking up stray finds, such as that of Tom, who was thought a right good fellow for declaring he didn't consider the Madonna his own special property, but would sell the figure, and go shares with all, when they got the ship afloat again, and reached San Francisco. My friend the carpenter thus artfully 'pointed his moral,' in order to make us work the harder at the novel navvy work at which we were engaged— strange, at least, to us sailor-folk.

Of course, though, while toiling like this, digging and splashing about in the insidious water that percolated through the beach, and which gradually accumulated until it was now almost knee-deep in the bottom of the trench, we were by no means silent, for a lot of talk went on in reference to the buccaneers' buried treasure that Jan Steenbock had spoken of. So, in spite of the second-mate's warning as to the 'curse' which he declared was associated with the hidden hoard, and would attach itself to any one discovering or touching the same, I heard more than one of the men give expression to a resolve to hunt for Captain Jackson's cave as soon as he should have an opportunity, when his spell of work was over, or, at all events, on the completion of the dock and the floating of the ship—a halcyon period most devoutly prayed for by all of us as we slaved at our unaccustomed task.

Amongst those who had thus made up their minds to go after the treasure was myself; and I got full of the subject, though keeping my own council the while, and not informing any one of my intention.

Presently, at 'eight bells,' the skipper told me I might leave off work in the trench, and go with Hiram on board the ship to prepare tea for the hands. Morris Jones was ordered to accompany us, at the same time, to get the captain's dinner ready; for, although we were ashore on a desert island, our ordinary routine as to meals and other matters was adhered to as regularly as if we had been at sea—the only exception being that no particular watch was kept, and that we all turned in together of a night and out likewise in the morning without distinction, all at the same time. Throughout the day we worked at digging out the trench, or 'dock' as Jan Steenbock persisted in calling it, under the ship, in gangs, in similar fashion to the mode that had been employed when unloading her, so as to get the task accomplished as quickly as possible; and, to facilitate this, the hands were divided into two batches, each having a spell of navvy's work and a rest off between whiles, turn and turn about.

"Thet wer a mighty rum yarn the Dutchman spun jest now, I guess," observed Hiram, as soon as we had got on board and reached the galley, Morris Jones leaving us awhile to ourselves, and going aft to fetch the skipper's grub out of the pantry, where it was stowed. "I'm jiggered if I ever heerd tell o' sich a yarn afore!"

"Don't you think it true?" I said. "Mr Steenbock isn't given to cramming, from all I have seen of him."

"No; he air a straight up-an'-down coon, I reckon," replied Hiram, proceeding to cut off a piece of tobacco from a plug he produced from his pocket, and placing a 'chaw' in his jaw. "Still, b'y, jest think o' buccaneer tree-sors, an' all sorts o' gold an' silver a-waitin' fur us to dig 'em up! Why, it beats Californy an' all I've heerd tell o' the diggin' days, when thaar wer the first rush, an' the folks ez got in time made their pile!"

"But you heard what he said of the spirit protecting the treasure," I remarked, "Don't you think he's right about the curse hanging over it? I believe it would be unlucky to touch it."

"B'y, thaar's allars a cuss tied on to gold an' greenbacks, sich ez we used ter hev a little time back," said Hiram sententiously. "But, I reckon, the harm don't lie in the durned stuff itself: it's in the way some folks kinder handles it—thet's whaar the pizen is! Guess I ain't afeard o' no cuss, once I comes across thet cave the Dutch mate wer a-speakin' on!"

"And the ghost?"

"Oh, durn the sperrit, Cholly!" said he, with a laugh. "I ain't afeard."

"Recollect though, Hiram," I remarked, in answer to this, "how frightened we all have been on board by Sam, and the way you were in only a couple of days ago, when you said you saw him again here."

He looked serious again in a moment.

"Guess I don't want ter run down thet air ghostess," said he apologetically. "Fur I reckon a man can't go agen a thin' he sees right afore his eyes."

"And how about the other one that Mr Steenbock spoke of?"

"Oh, thet's different, Cholly. A chap ye sees a-sottin' down an' a-playin' a banjo aint like a coon thet's ben buried two or three hundred year, an' thet no one hez seed, ez I knows on, fur Jan Steenbock never sed ez how he seed it hisself. No, b'y, I guess I'll hev a hunt fur thet thaar tree-sor ez he spoke on, ez soon ez ever I hev the chance."

"Suppose we go this evening, when we strike off work?" said I—"that is, Hiram, if you don't mind my coming with you?"

"Nary a bit, Cholly," he replied good-heartedly to this tentative question of mine; "glad to hev ye along o' me, seeing as how we both hev ben a-prospectin' the line o' country already."

"All right," I exclaimed joyfully. "We'll have a good hunt for the cave. I wouldn't be surprised if we find it near the place where I saw the doves, by the pool between the hills over there."

"Most like, b'y," said he, bustling about the galley and going on with his culinary work; "but hyar comes the stooard. Don't ye tell him nuthin' o' what we hev ben talkin' on, or I guess the coon 'll be wantin' to jine company, an' I don't wants him, I doesn't. He's a won'erful slimy sort o' cuss, an' since he's ben skeart by Sam Jedfoot's ghostess he hez ben a durned sight too mealy-mouthed fur me!"

"I won't speak a word to him," said I. "He's a queer sort of man, and I don't like him either."

The entrance of the Welshman thus stopped our further conversation; for, although Morris Jones seemed anxious to talk, Hiram only spoke in monosyllables, giving curt answers, so that the steward in, the end became silent too, busying himself in cooking the skipper's dinner at one, fireplace, while the American attended to the men's tea at the other—filling the copper with the proper ingredients, as mentioned before, and diligently stirring its contents till it boiled.

At 'two bells,' later on, in the first dog-watch, work was abandoned for the day, all hands coming aboard to have their tea, Tom Bullover amongst them.

"May I tell him?" I said to Hiram, when I saw the carpenter coming forward, after slinging himself over the bulwarks; "may I tell Tom where we are going, and ask him to come too?"

"I don't mind, I guess," replied Hiram—"the more the merrier!"

Tom was perfectly willing; and so, half an hour later, the three of us started on our expedition, getting over the side of the ship while the rest of the crew were still busy with their pannikins and beef and biscuit, so departing unobserved.

"Now we're off, I guess," said Hiram, when he had crossed over a plank that served for a bridge over the trench alongside, which was getting pretty deep by now. "Let us go straight fur thet buccaneers' tree-sor, shepmates!"

"And here's for the black man's ghost as the second-mate spoke on," replied Tom Bullover, with a grin. "I specs we'll as soon find one as t'other!"

"Durned ef I kear," said Hiram defiantly; "ghostess or no ghostess, I'm bound fur thet pile, I am, if we ken sorter light on it!"

"I only hope we will, I'm sure," I chimed in, as the three of us made our way across the beach and then traversed the sterile lava plain, shaping a course for the cluster of trees between the hills, on the right of the bay, which I had first investigated.

The doves we found as tame as ever, coo-coo-cooing away with great unction on our approach, and beside the borders of the pool were a lot of tortoises crawling about; but, there was no cave near, concealed in the brushwood, although we searched through it all carefully—so we resumed our way up the hills.

As we ascended, the scenery became wilder and wilder, the trees increasing so greatly in size that some of the trunks of them, which apparently belonged to the oak species, were over four feet in diameter, growing, too, to a great height.

Nor was the scenery only wild.

About half a mile up a steep ravine, a drove of wild hogs rushed by us, nearly knocking Hiram down, he being in advance of the exploring party.

"Jehosophat, mate!" he exclaimed to Tom, laughing as he stumbled over him; "thaar's y'r black man's ghost, I guess."

"Carry on," replied Tom grinning; "we ain't come to him yet. You just wait and see!"

Further up, we came to a beautiful plain of some extent between the hills, which had been at some former time planted for cultivation, for bananas, sweet potatoes, yucca palms, and many other sorts of tropical fruits were growing about in the wildest profusion.

There were the remains, too, of old buildings and broken mill machinery, such as used in the West Indies for crushing the sugar cane, a lot of which was planted in the vicinity; but these were of giant proportions from not having been cut possibly for years, for, stump sprang up on top of stump, until the root clusters covered many square yards—the canes themselves being over twenty-five feet in height and more than fifteen inches in circumference, of a size that would have made a sugar-planter's mouth water.

"Guess some cuss hez ben a-cultivatin' hyar," observed Hiram, looking critically round. "When I wer to hum down Chicopee way—"

"Stow that, bo," said Tom Bullover, interrupting him, being always afraid of letting the other sail off on the tack of his home recollections, as he was doomed ever to hear the same old yarn, so that he was sick of its repetition. "I don't think you'll find your cave here; them old buccaneers wouldn't be sich fools to lug all their booty up this long way, when they could bury it more comf'able near the shore, and likewise come upon it the easier again when they wanted it."

"Specs ye air about right, bo," answered Hiram, taking the interruption kindly, and no ways hurt at having his Chicopee remembrances once more nipped in the bud. "What shall we dew?"

"Why, go down again," replied Tom. "Here's a fresh track down to the beach on this side which leads to another bay, I fancy. Let's make for it and see where it leads to."

"Fire away; I'm arter ye, bo," said the other, the two now changing places, and Tom Bullover showing the way. "'Foller my leader'—thet's the game, I reckon!"

All of us laughed at this, stepping gingerly in single file after Tom, who found some difficulty at first in pushing through the branches of the trees, which were thickly interwoven overhead and across the path; but the latter was distinctly marked out, being well trodden as if it had been a regular pathway of communication at some previous time.

The bay below, to which this road led, was on the other side of the point of land that stretched past the ship; and as we descended the hill we could see the blue sea peeping through the trees.

Half-way down, the pathway abruptly terminated in front of what seemed a mound of earth, although this was now overgrown with trees, covered with orchilla weed, that enveloped their trunks and gave them quite a venerable aspect.

"Hillo!" cried Hiram, "hyar's enuff o' thet orchilla weed thet they vall'ys so in 'Frisco to make airy a nan's fortin' ez could carry it thaar, I guess!"

"Is that the orchilla?" I asked. "I was wondering what Mr Steenbock meant when he spoke of it."

"Aye," replied Hiram, dragging off a great bunch of it from what looked like the decayed trunk of one of the oak trees, hollowed out by age and exposure to the heavy tropical rains of the region, "thet's what they calls the orchilla weed, I guess. Hillo! though, what's this?"

"What?" exclaimed Tom Bullover and I, pressing up to where he was stooping, scraping away at the timber; "what is it?"

"I'm durned ef it air a tree at all," said Hiram, all excitement, and his voice thick with emotion and eager exultation. "It's a door o' some sort or t'other."

"Really," I said, as eager as he, helping him to pull away the fungus growth from the now partly-exposed woodwork which, certainly, looked like a door, as he said, "do you think so?"

"Aye, Cholly. I'm jiggered if we ain't found the cave at last!"



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

RIVAL APPARITIONS.

"By Jingo!" said Tom, with a deep breath, bending down and helping Hiram to clear away the weeds and debris from the rotten old door, now clearly disclosed to view. "Jest fancy our lighting on it like this!"

"Perhaps it isn't a cave at all," said I, likewise breathless with excitement, but not wishing to place my hopes too high, lest I should be disappointed; "it's too far from the sea, I think."

"Nary a bit," retorted Hiram, doggedly. "I'll bet my bottom dollar it's the place sure enuff. Hyar goes, anyhow, fur a try."

So saying, rising from his stooping posture, he administered a thumping kick with his heavy seamen's boot against the rotten woodwork.

This instantly gave way, a thick cloud of dust rolling up; and then, a hollow dark cavity appeared right in the centre of the mound, which we could now see was heaped up over the wooden framework, so as to conceal it from the notice of any one passing by.

"Hooray!" shouted Tom Bullover, waving his hat and jumping up in the air to further express his emotion. "We've found the buccaneers' blessed treasure. Look out for the ghost, Hiram!"

"Durn the ghost!" retorted the other; "not twenty on 'em wu'd kep me back now, I guess!"

At the same moment, he made a dive to enter the opening, but Tom put his hand on his shoulder and half pulled him back.

"Stop, bo," he said. "There might be foul air in it, 'cause of its being so long closed up. Let's wait and see."

"How ken ye tell thet?" asked Hiram; "guess it don't matter a red cent if ther air."

"You just wait," insisted Tom. "I'll find out in a jiffey; and then, if it's safe, we can venture in. The cave ain't a-goin' to run away from us, and you know the old saying, 'more haste less speed!' We're going to do things in proper shipshape fashion, bo, so none o your rushing matters; it'll all come right in time!"

With these words, Tom, who was a sensible, matter-of-fact fellow, with his head screwed on straight and all his wits about him, took out a box of matches from the inside lining of his hat, where he always kept his pipe and tobacco and such things that he did not wish to get wet; and, lighting one of the matches, he proceeded to hold it within the dark cavity.

The flame flickered and then suddenly went out, although there wasn't a breath of air stirring, the trees around preventing the sea-breeze from reaching the spot where we stood—a sort of little hollow between the hills.

"There you are, bo," said Tom; "see that?"

"Guess I don't underconstubble," answered Hiram, staring at him in perplexity. "What d'ye mean, hey?"

"Didn't you watch the match go out?" returned Tom. "Lord, I never did see such a feller!"

"Wa-al, what ef the durned match did fiz out?"

"Don't yer know what it means?"

"Guess not."

"It shows as how there's foul air there, bo—that's what the match's going out means. It tells us not to go in!"

Tom said this with a chuckle, for which Hiram gave him a dig in the ribs.

"Hev yer own way, Chips, fur a bit," he said; "but I'm jiggered if ye air a-going to kep me from prospectin' thet thaar hole."

"Nobody wants to," retorted Tom. "Only just wait a bit till the wentilation gets better and blows out all the gas. It would a-pizened you if I'd let you go in at first, as you wanted."

"Wa-al, go ahead, an' hev another try fur to see ef it's right now."

In reply, Tom lit a second match, and held it in the opening of the cave as before.

This time it did not flicker so much, burning for a longer time, before the faint flame finally expired.

"Better," said Tom; "but it ain't quite safe yet."

"Hurry up," replied Hiram. "I'm bustin' to see thet boocaneer tree-sor ez the mate wer talkin' on!"

After an interval of another quarter of an hour or so, while we all waited on the tenter-hooks of suspense, an inquisitive land tortoise waddling up to see what we were about, Tom lit a third match.

This time it burnt bravely with a clear light, which showed us something of the interior of the cavern. It did not show us much, though, the darkness being too great for such a feeble illuminant to penetrate far into it.

"Now, boys," said Tom, "I think we may venture in, as the foul air must be pretty well spent by this time; but we'll have to get a torch or something to see our way by, or else we shall be breaking our necks or smashing our heads against the roof."

"Guess one o' them port fires we hev aboard would lighten it up to rights."

"So it would," replied Tom; "but we ain't got it now, and must try and find somethin' else to make a flare up."

"Hyar's some o' the old wood," observed the other, taking up a fragment of the broken door, which was crumbly with age. "Strike another match, will ye. I think this timber 'll burn long enuff fur us to git inside an' prospect a few."

"Right you are, my hearty," returned the other, carrying out this suggestion; and the next minute, the piece of old oak was in a blaze, when, holding it up in one hand, Hiram stooped down once more and stepped within the cave.

There was nothing there, however.

Nothing!

"Wa-all," exclaimed Hiram, after bending here and there, and searching in every direction. "I calls this a durned sell, I dew!"

"Hold the light up again," said Tom; "a little more to the right, bo, so as to throw it on that dark corner there."

But nothing was to be seen save the rocky walls of the cave, which was of peculiar shape, and more like a sort of fissure in the rock, riven open possibly by some volcanic shock, than if made by man. The roof was formed of lava, it seemed to me by the light of our impromptu torch, similar to the same substance we noticed on the arid plain near the shore of the bay, and again below the sand at high-water mark.

There were queer fragments of rock also, placed round the hard floor of the cavern like seats, with regular intervals between them; while apparently in the middle, as near as we could approximate, was a raised portion of the under stratum of rock shaped like a pulpit.

"Guess if thaar's airy tree-sor hyar, b'ys," observed Hiram, pointing to this, "it's thaar!"

"No, bo," replied Tom, laughing, "that's the black man's pulpit, where he preaches a Sunday, same as our 'Holy Joes' do when they're ashore!"

Hiram paid no attention to this remark, but continued poking about the place, stamping with his feet and trying in every way to see whether the treasure we were in search of might not be buried in some spot or other; but his trouble was all in vain.

Presently, the piece of blazing wood began to give forth a more feeble light, being almost burnt out; and, then, all at once Hiram and I noticed another spark of light like a round hole, at the opposite end of the cave.

"Hillo!" shouted Hiram, "I guess thaar's another end to the durned hole, an' we hev taken the wrong track!"

Making our way slowly, so as not to extinguish the torch, we advanced in the direction of the new light, which got bigger and bigger as we approached nearer to it.

There was no doubt it was another entrance to the cave, and a far more convenient one, too, for it opened out on to a little spur of the hill that ran down a somewhat steep declivity to the seashore below.

"It must be the buccaneers' cave," said Tom. "It's just the sort o' place men that were sailors would choose. I misdoubted it at first, from being so far inland, as I thought; but now I see it's near the sea."

"But there ain't nary a tree-sor thaar!"

"Don't you be too cocksure o' that," returned Tom, looking about him well, to make certain of his direction. "Howsomdever, we ain't got the time to search the place properly now, as it'll be dark soon, and we ought to be aboard."

"Durned if I likes givin' it up like this."

"Never mind, bo; there'll be plenty of time for us to look the cave over to-morrer arternoon, and I'll bring one o' them port fires you spoke on to light up the place."

"Guess thet'll jest about do, Chips," replied Hiram, turning round, as if about to go back within the entrance, loth to leave without finding the buccaneers' hoard, repeating his previous exclamation: "I'm durned, though, if I likes givin' it up like this!"

"Come along, my hearty!" cried Tom. "Come along, Charley. But, mind, neither on you be telling the hands what we've found out! There wouldn't be a chance for us if the skipper or that drunken cur Flinders knowed on it."

"Not me," replied Hiram, following Tom along the curve of the shore towards a little group of trees, which I recognised now as immediately above the pool frequented by the doves. "I won't tell nary a soul, an' I reckon we ken both on us anser fur Cholly?"

"Certainly," said I, replying to his implied question, as I came up behind the two, and we started off retracing our way at once to the ship, on the fo'c's'le of which we could see several of the men already gathered together. "I'm sure I won't tell anybody, for I have nobody to tell except you, Tom, and Hiram—you're my only friends on board."

"Wait till you get hold of the buccaneers' gold, Charley," said Tom dryly. "You'll get plenty o' chums then, for money makes friends!"

Nothing further was said by either of us, and we presently found ourselves once more on board, when I turned in at once, for we had walked a goodish distance, and I was tired out.

The next afternoon, when work was ended and Hiram and I were ready to start on another excursion to the cave, we could not find Tom.

"Nary mind thet, Cholly," said Hiram. "I guess we ken go 'long, an' Chips 'll pick us up by-an'-by."

Passing the grove and pool of the doves, we made our way over the brow of the little hill beyond, and sighted the second bay; when, just as the opening to the cave became visible, both of us heard the familiar sound of Sam Jedfoot's banjo.

It was passing strange!

The same old air was being played upon it that we had heard immediately before the ship struck—and, indeed, almost always prior to every catastrophe and mischance that had happened throughout our eventful voyage.

Hiram turned pale.

"Jee-rusalem, Cholly!" he exclaimed, at once arresting his footsteps; "what on airth air thet?"

I was almost equally frightened.

"It—it—it—sounds like poor Sam's banjo," I stammered out. "I—I— hope he ha—ha—hasn't come to haunt us again!"

"Seems like," said he; and then, plucking up his courage, he started once more for the mouth of the cave, I following close, like his shadow, afraid to leave him now, because then I would be there by myself. "Durned, though, if Sam's ghostess or any other cuss 'll kep me back now. Come on, Cholly!"

But, when we got up to the entrance, we saw a sight that stopped us at once, Hiram dropping to the ground as if he had been shot.

There, sitting on the very rock at the back which Tom Bullover had joked about on the previous day as being the 'ghost's pulpit' was the dim apparition of a man, the very image of our whilom negro cook, leaning back and playing the banjo, just as Sam used to do on board the Denver City.

But, stranger still, even as I looked, a queer supernatural sort of light suddenly illumined the interior of the cavern, and I saw another apparition rise, as it were, out of the darkness, immediately behind the one on the rock, the last spectral form raising its hand threateningly.

I stood there at the mouth of the cave, almost paralysed with terror, watching the weird scene that was being enacted within, the wonderful electrical glare making every detail come out in strong relief and lighting up the whole place, so that it was as bright as day.

Not the slightest incident escaped my notice.

As the second apparition rose from behind the rock at the back of the cavern, the first figure, which I had believed up to now really to be the negro cook's ghost or spirit, permitted for some occult purpose or other to revisit the earth, also jumped up out of the corner, dropping the banjo incontinently.

Not only this, the original ghost, spirit, or what you will, displayed an abject fright that was too real for any inhabitant of the other world to assume; for the face of the ghost in an instant grew as long as my arm, while its woolly hair crinkled up on top of its head until it became erect and stiff as a wire brush.

At the same time, the eyes of this first 'ghost,' distended with fear, rolled round and round, the white eyeballs contrasting with the darker skin of the face, which, however, appeared to have become of an ashy grey colour, instead of black—though whether this was from the effects of fear or owing to the peculiar light that shone full upon it I could not tell, nor, indeed, puzzled my mind at the time to inquire.

The two figures thus confronted each other for about the space of a second, the headless apparition rising and rising till it seemed to touch the roof of the cave, when it extended its wide arms and made a clutch at the other, and now trembling, figure in front.

This was too much for the banjo-playing spectre.

Uttering a wild yell that only a human throat could have emitted, and with his mouth open as wide as the mouth of the cave towards which he rushed, Sam Jedfoot—for it was his own substantial self, I saw, and no ghost at all, as I was now convinced—cleared in two bounds the intervening space that lay between him and the entrance to the cavern, seeking to get away as far as possible from his terrible visitant. Apparently, he must have thought the other to be the 'genuine Simon Pure,' come to punish him for his false pretences in making believe to be a denizen of the spirit world whilst he was yet in the flesh, and so poaching unlawfully on what was by right and title the proper domain of the ghostal tribe!

In his hurry and haste, however, to avoid this avenging spectre, poor Sam, naturally, did not see me standing in front of the cave blocking the entrance, nor had I time to get out of his way, so as to avoid the impetuous rush he made for the opening.

The consequences may be readily surmised.

He came against me full butt, and we both tumbled to the ground headlong together all of a heap.

Sam thereupon imagined the terrible apparition to be clutching him, and that his last hour had come.

"Oh, golly! De debbel's got me, de debbel's got me fo' suah!" he roared out in an agony of terror, clawing at my clothes and nearly tearing the shirt off my back in his attempts to regain his feet, as we rolled over and over together down the decline towards the shore. "Lor', a mussy! Do forgib me dis time, Massa Duppy, fo' play-actin' at ghostesses, an' I promises nebber do so no moah! O Lor'! O Lor'! I'se a gone niggah! Bress de Lor', fo' ebbah an' ebbah! Amen!"



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

SAM JEDFOOT'S YARN.

"Ho-ho-ho! I shall die a-laughing!" exclaimed another voice at this juncture, interrupting Sam's terrified appeal to the spiritual powers. "Ho-ho-ho! I shall die a-laughing!"

The voice sounded like that of Tom Bullover; but, before I could look up to see if it were really he, Sam and I, the negro cook still clutching me tightly in his frantic grasp as we rolled down the little declivity on to the beach below the entrance to the cave, fetched up against Hiram; who, only just recovering from the shock he had received, was then in the act of rising from the ground, where he had dropped at the sight of Sam and his banjo—still dazed with the fright, and hardly yet knowing where he was or what had happened.

"My golly!" cried Sam, thinking him another ghost. "Lor' sakes! Massa Duppy, do forgib me! I'll nebbah do so moah, I'se swarr I'll nebbah do so no moah!"

"Wa-all, I'm jiggered!" ejaculated Hiram, on the two of us coming against him with a thump, nearly knocking him again off his legs, as we scrambled to ours. "What in thunder dew this air muss mean? Jee-rusalem—it beats creation, it dew!"

Neither Sam nor I could get out a word; but, while we all stared, out of breath and speechless with astonishment, at each other, another wild shout of laughter came right over our heads from within the cave above, and I heard Tom's voice exclaiming, as before—

"Ho-ho-ho! you'll be the death o' me sure, sonnies! I never seed sich a go in my life! Hang it all—Charley and Hiram, and you, Sambo—why, it's only me! Ho-ho-ho! I shall bust meself, if you go staring round and wool-gathering like that any longer! Ho-ho-ho! this is a game, and no mistake!"

With that, the three of us looked up, and now saw Tom Bullover standing on top of the plateau in front of the cave, with a sort of long white sheet like a piece of sailcloth round him, and Sam's banjo in one hand.

Then, the real facts of the case flashed on my mind in a moment, and I could not help joining in the carpenter's hearty merriment at the way in which he had humbugged us all.

"Oh, Tom!" I cried; "so it was you, after all?"

"Yes; ho-ho! Charley; yes, my lad. Ho-ho-ho!"

"Guess I don't see nuthin' to snigger over!" growled Hiram, shamefaced at being so readily imposed on; but he was too good a sailor to mind a joke against himself, and the comicality of the situation striking him, too, like me, he was soon laughing as loudly as Tom and I.

Sam only needed this further secession likewise to set him off, his negro nature possessing the hysterical features of his race, and going readily from one extreme to the other.