A second before he had been paralysed with fright; now he was as instantly convulsed with glee.

"My gosh!" he yelled, showing his ivories as his whole face expanded into one big guffaw that utterly eclipsed all our attempts at merriment. "Hoo-hoo, yah-yah! Dat am prime, Cholly—black ghost fo' whitey! Hoo-hoo, yah-yah! I'se die a-laffin', like Tom! Black ghost fo' whitey!—Hoo-hoo, yah-yah, hoo-hoo! Golly! Dat am prime, fo' suah!"

Sam's negro abandon and queer gestures, as he danced about and doubled himself up in his wild convulsions of mirth, were absolutely irresistible; and so we all roared in concert, like a party of lunatics, laughing until the tears actually ran down our cheeks.

"An' how did yer fix the hull thing so smartly?" inquired the American, presently when he was able to speak. "Ye took me in finely, I guess; ye did thet so!"

"Lor', old ship! that were easy enough, when you comes to think of it."

"But, how?" persisted Hiram, as Tom broke off his explanation to indulge in another laugh. "Hyar's Sam, what was ded, alive agen an' kickin', ez my shins ken tell, I reckon! How about his hauntin' the shep, an' all thet?"

"Yes, Tom," I put in here; "how was it that he wasn't killed?"

"Oh, Sam 'll explain all about his bizness," replied Tom, laughing again, the ridiculous nature of the whole thing appealing strongly to his risible faculties. "I've got enough to do to tell you about my own ghost—the sperrit, that is, of the black man that our second-mate spun that yarn about yesterday arternoon!"

"A-ah!" drawled out Hiram; "I begins to smell a rat, I dew."

"But, suah dat 'perrit wasn't reel, hey, Mass' Tom?" interposed Sam, his eyeballs starting again out of his head, as he recollected all the mysterious occurrences in the cave. "Dat 'perrit wasn't reel, hey? I'se take um fo' duppy, suah?"

"No, ye durned fule!" exclaimed Hiram, quite indignantly; "don't ye know thet?"

"Some people weren't so wise just now," said Tom Bullover dryly; "eh, Hiram?"

"Nary mind 'bout thet," growled the American, giving Tom a dig in the ribs playfully. "Heave ahead with yer yarn, or we'll never git in the slack of it 'fore nightfall!"

"Well then, here's the long and short of it," said Tom, sitting down on the top of the little cliff-mound, so as to make himself as comfortable as possible, while we stood grouped around him. "You see, now, our Dutch mate's story about the nigger that the buccaneers used to bury with their treasure put me up to taking a rise out of our friend Sambo here, who, though he was artful enough to play at being a ghost and haunt the ship, as you fellows thought all through the v'yage, was yet mortal 'fraid of them same ghostesses hisself, as I well knowed!"

"Oh, Lor', Mass' Tom, dunno say dat," interrupted Sam reproachfully. "Speak fo' true, an' shame de debble!"

"That's just what I'm doing, darkey. You know I'm speaking the truth; and I'm sure Charley and Hiram here can judge for theirselves, from what they saw not long ago!"

"Bully for ye!" cried Hiram, confirming Tom Bullover's reference to himself. "Why, ye durned nigger, ye wer a'most yeller with frit jest now, when ye kinder thought ye seed one o' them blessed ghostesses thet Tom wer a-talkin' on!"

This effectually shut up Sam; and my friend the carpenter then went on with his account of the phenomenon we had seen.

"I knew," said he, "that the darkey would be up here this arternoon, for I showed him the cave myself this mornin', afore any of you beggars aboard the ship were up or stirring. I thought it would be just a good place for him to hide in, besides preventing the skipper and that brute Flinders, or any of the other hands, from coming spying round and interfering with our diskevery, which, as you know—I means you Charley and Hiram—we wished for to keep to ourselves."

"Ay, bo," assented Hiram approvingly; "true enuff; ye acted rightly, shipmet."

"So I tells Sam to rig hisself up here as comf'ably as he could; and if he should hear any footsteps comin' nigh the place he was to strike up a tune on his banjo and frighten them away, makin' any inquisitive folk think the place was haunted by the same old ghost they knew aboard the ship."

"What a capital idea!" said I; "how did you come to think of it?"

"I thought of more than that, Charley," replied Tom, with a broad grin. "It wasn't long arter I brought Sam here that I thought of makin' the second ghost out of the proper black man belonging to the cave, that Jan Steenbock had told us on, and which you, Hiram, said you wouldn't be frightened at nohow."

"Stow thet," growled Hiram, shaking his fist at Tom. "Carry on with yer yarn, an' don't mind me, old stick-in-the-mud!"

"I'm carryin' on, if you'll only let a feller tell his story in his own way. You know we agreed to come up here together this arternoon, and make a reg'ler up-and-down search for the buried treasure; and you told me, you rec'lect, to bring a port fire, such as we had aboard, for to light up the place."

"Thet's right enuff," said Hiram, "thet's right enuff; but, durn it all, heave ahead, bo! Heave ahead!"

"Well then," continued Tom, "I gets this blessed jigmaree of a port fire from the ship; and, having done my spell at digging out the dock, my gang finishing work at four bells, I com'd up here afore you and Charley. It were then that I thinks of having a bit of a game with old Sam, while I was waitin' for you two to join company and look for the treasure together, as we agreed atween us when we first diskivered the place."

"And you didn't intend to frighten us, Tom?" I asked him at this point; "mind, really?"

"No, I'll take my davy I didn't—that is, not at first," replied he, grinning in his usual way. "Arterwards, in course, I couldn't help it, when you and our Chickopee friend here took the bait so finely."

"Ah! I'll pay you out, bo, for it," cried Hiram, interrupting Tom, as I had done, "never you fear. I'll pay you out, my hearty, 'fore this time to-morrow come-never—both me and Cholly will tew, I guess, sirree!"

"Threaten'd men live long," observed Tom with a dry chuckle. "Still, that ain't got nothin' to do with this here yarn. I com'd up, as I were sayin', a good half-hour afore you; and, to spin out the time, I goes round to the cave by the way where we first lighted on it t'other day, and gets inside by the hole through the broken old door where we entered it afore our reaching this end."

"And then?" I asked, on Tom's pausing for a moment in his narrative—"and then?"

"Why, then I saw poor Sam, with his back turned towards me, a-sittin' down on that rock as we called 'the ghost's pulpit,' and playin' his blessed old banjo as sweetly as you please, without thinkin' that I or any one else were within miles of him! So, seein' this were a good chance for finding whether Master Sammy, as was thought a ghost hisself aboard, liked ghosts as he didn't know of, I catches up a bit o' sailcloth that was lying on the ground, which he'd taken up there to sarve for his bed, and, I claps this over my head and shoulders, like a picter my mother had in the parlour at home of 'Samuel and the Witch of Endor.' Then, I lights the port fire and gives a yell to rouse up the darkey, and arter that—ho-ho! my hearties, you knows what happened. Ho-ho! it was as good as a play!"

"Golly! Me taut yer one duppy, fo' suah, Massa Tom!" said Sam, after another chorus of laughter from all of us all round. "Me taut yer was de debble!"

"Not quite so bad as that, my hearty," mildly suggested Tom, grinning at the compliment. "Still, I don't think I made such a bad ghost altogether for a green hand!"

"Don't ye kinder think ye frit me, bo!" declaimed Hiram vehemently. "It wer the sight o' thet durned nigger thaar, a-sottin' an playin' his banjo—him ez we all thought ez ded ez a coffin nail, an' buried fathoms below the sea, an' which all on us hed b'leeved ter hev haunted the shep fur the hull v'y'ge. Ay, thet it wer, streenger, what ez frit me an' made me fall all of a heap, an' thaar I lies till Cholly an' the durned nigger riz me up agen by tumblin' athwart my hawse!"

"I think I was the most frightened of all," I now frankly confessed, on Hiram thus bravely acknowledging his own terror. "I really for the moment believed that I was actually looking at two real, distinct ghosts, or spirits—the one that of Sam, which you, Tom and Hiram, know I already thought I had seen before on board the ship; and the second apparition that of the negro slave which Mr Steenbock told us of. But, how is it that Sam is here at all—how did he escape?"

"Let him tell his yarn in his own way, the same as I have done mine," replied Tom. "Ax him."

"Now Sam," said I, "tell us all about it."

"Ay, dew," chimed in Hiram; "fire away, ye old black son of a gun!"

"All right, Mass' Hiram an' yer, too, Cholly. I'se tell you de trute, de hole trute, an' nuffin' but de trute, s'help me!"

"Carry on, you blooming old crocodile, carry on!"

Taking Tom Bullover's words in the sense in which they were meant, as a sort of friendly encouragement to proceed, Sam, nothing loath to air his long-silent tongue, soon satisfied the eager curiosity of Hiram and myself—giving us a full account of his adventures from the time that we saw him drop from the rigging, when all the crew, with the solitary exception of his ally the carpenter, believed him to have been murdered and his body lost overboard.

"I'se specks," he commenced, "dat yer all 'members when de cap'en shake him billy-goat beard, an' shoot dis pore niggah in de tumjon, an' I'se drop inter de bottom ob de sea, hey?"

"Yes," replied Hiram; while I added: "But, how on earth did you manage to save your life and get on board again?"

"Dis chile cleberer dan yer tinks," replied Sam proudly. "When de cap'en shoot, I'se jump one side like de Bobolink bird, an' de bullet, dat he tink go troo my tumjon, go in de air. I'se make one big miscalkerfation, dough, fo' my han' mis de riggin' when I'se stretch up to catch him, an' I'se tumble inter de water."

"Poor Sam!" said I. "Your heart must have come right into your mouth, eh?"

"Inter my mout, sonny?" he repeated after me. "Bress yer, it come up inter my mout, an' I'se swaller it agen, an' him go right down to de pit ob my tumjon! Lor', Cholly, I'se tink I wer drown, fo' suah, an' nebbah come up no moah, fo' de wave come ober my head an' ebberyting! Den, jest as I'se scrape along de side ob de ship an' wash away aft in de wake astern, I'se catch holt ob de end ob de boom-sheet, dat was tow oberboard."

"Ye hev got thet durned lubber Jim Chowder to thank fur thet," said Hiram, interrupting him to explain this fortunate circumstance, which I now recollected Captain Snaggs alluding to when I was waiting at table in the cabin the same evening, before the tragic occurrence happened. "It's the fust time I ever recomembers ez how an unsailorlike act like thet ever did good to airy a soul!"

"Nebbah yer min' dat, Mas' Hiram," rejoined Sam, with much heartiness. "I'se allers tink afore dat Jim Chowder one pore cuss, but now I'se pray fo' him ebbery day ob my life!"

"Ay, bo," said Tom, with affected gravity; "and for me to, eh?"

"I will, suah," answered Sam, in the same serious way in which he had previously spoken, not wishing to joke about the matter. "But, Jim Chowder or no Jim Chowder, who ebbah let dat rope tow oberboard was sabe my life! I'se catch holt ob him an' climb on ter de rudder chain, where I'se hang wid my head out ob de water till it was come dark, an' de night grow ober de sea. Den, when I'se tink de cap'en drink nuff rum to get drunk, an' not fo' see me come on board agen, I'se let my ole leg wash up wid de wave to de sill ob de stern port; an' den, when I'se look an see dere was nobody in de cabin, I'se smash de glass ob de window an' climb inside."

"And then it was, I suppose," said I, taking up the burden of his story, "that I took your real self, as you crept through the cabin, for your ghost?"

"Dat troo, Cholly. Yer see me, dough, by de light ob de moon, fo' I'se take care blow out de swing lamp in cabin, dat nobody might see nuffin. I'se reel glad, dough, dat I'se able friten de cap'en an' make him tink see um duppy!"

"Wa-all, I guess ye come out o' that smart enuff," said Hiram, with a hearty thump of approval that doubled up poor Sam, more effectually than his convulsions of laughter had previously done. "But, whaar did ye manage ter stow yerself when ye comed out o' the cabin?"

"I'se creep along de deck, keepin' under de lee ob de moonlight; an' den when nobody was lookin' I'se go forwards an' crawl down into the forepeak. Den, it was dat Mass' Tom hyar see me."

"And a pretty fine fright you gave me too!" said that worthy, bursting out into another laugh at the recollection. "It was the next mornin', as I went down into the sail room under the forepeak, to fetch up a spare tops'le, when I comes across my joker here. I caught hold at first of his frizzy head, thinking it were a mop one of the hands had forgotten below; but when I turned my lantern there I seed Sam, who I thought miles astern, safe and snug in old Davy Jones' locker. Lord! shipmates, you could ha' knocked me down with a feather and club-hauled me for a nincompoop!"

"Wer ye ez frit ez I wer jest now?" asked Hiram quizzingly. "Mind, quite ez much ez I wer?"

"Ay, bo," replied Tom, "I dessay I were, if the truth be told."

This pleased Hiram immensely.

"Then, I guess I don't see whaar yer crow comes in, my joker!" he exclaimed, giving Tom a similar thump on the back to that which he had a short time before bestowed on Sam—a slight token of affection by no means to be sneezed at. "Why, ye wer cacklin' like a durned old hen with one egg, 'bout Cholly an' I bein' frit jest now, thinkin' we seed Sam's ghostess, when hyar, ye sez now, ye wer frit yerself the same at the fust sight ye seed of him!"

"Ay, bo; but I wern't going to tell you that, nor 'bout another fright I next had, when the darkey and I were a-smoking down in the forepeak and nearly set the ship a-fire," said Tom knowingly, with a shrewd, expressive wink to each of us respectively in turn, before he resumed his story. "But, to go on properly with my yarn from the beginning, when I found Sam's head wasn't a mop, but belonged to his real darkey self, and that he wasn't drownded after all, why, I made him as snug as I could down below, thinking it were best for him to keep hid, for if the skipper saw him on dock and knew he were alive he would soon be shooting him again, or else ill-treating him in the way he had already done. Sam agreed to act by my advice on my promising to take him down grub and all he might want into the forepeak; but, bless you, the contrary darkey wouldn't act up to this arrangement arter a day or two."

"Dat was 'cause yer hab forget to bring de grub," interposed Sam, to explain this apparent breach of contract on his part. "I'se cook, an' not used fo' ter go widout my vittles fo' nobody!"

"How could I get below to you when we had bad weather and the hatches were battened down?" retorted Tom Bullover, in his turn. "Howsomdever, to stop arguefying, Master Sammy, finding himself hungry and knowing something of the stowage below from having been in the ship on a previous voyage, he manages to work a passage through the hold to the after part right under the cuddy; and from there my gentleman, if you please, makes his way on deck again through the hatchway in the captain's cabin, not forgetting to rummage the steward's pantry for provisions when he goes by!"

"An' mighty little grub was dere, suah," put in the negro cook, with great dignity. "I'se feel mean as a pore white if yer was ebbah come to my galley an' fin' sich a scrubby lot tings! Dere was nuffin' fit fo' a decent culler'd pusson ter eat—dat feller Morris Jones one big skunk!"

"I guess ye air 'bout right," agreed Hiram; while Tom and I signified our assent likewise by nodding our heads with great unction. "He's the biggest skunk I ever wer shipmets with afore!"

"Let him slide, for he don't consarn us now," said Tom, continuing the narrative of Sam's story. "Well, you must know, our darkey friend here, having taken first to prowling about the ship for grub, keeps it up arterwards for pleesure and devarshun, thinking it a jolly lark to make the hands believe the old barquey was haunted. Then, one day he gets hold of his banjo from out of Hiram's chest in the fo'c's'le, where old Chicopee really did stow it away arter he bought it at the auction o' Sam's traps, as he thought he did, although I persuaded him and you Charley, too, if you remember, that the banjo had been left hanging up still in the galley in the place where Sam used to keep it. Once, indeed, when Sam forgot to put it back arter playing on it in the hold, where he had taken it, I brought it up and hung it on its old peg in the galley right afore your very eyes, Hiram!"

"I recollect, Tom," said I; "and so, Sam used to play on it in the hold below, then, when we heard the mysterious music coming from we knew not where?"

"Yes, that's so," replied he. "At first, Sam touched the strings only now and then, 'specially when the wind was blowing high, and he thought that nobody would hear the sound from the rattling of the ship's timbers and all; but, when I noticed how you above on deck could distinguish, not only the notes of the banjo, but also the very air that Sam played, and how the skipper was terrified and almost frightened out of his boots when he recognised the tune, which he had heard Sam chaunt often and often in the galley of an evening, why, then, I puts up the darkey to keep on the rig, so as to punish our brute of a skipper for his cold-blooded attempt at murdering poor Sam—which, but for the interposition of Providence, would have succeeded!"

Before Tom could proceed any further, however, consternation fell upon us all, as if a bombshell had burst in our midst; for, Sam, who was looking the opposite way to us and could see over our heads, suddenly sprang upon his feet, his mouth open from ear to ear and his teeth chattering with fear, while his short, woolly hair seemed literally to crinkle up and stand on end.

"O Lor'! O Lor'!" he exclaimed. "Look dere! Look dere!"

And there, right before us, stood the skipper himself, snorting and sniffing and foaming with rage, his keen, ferrety eyes piercing us through and through—so close, that his long nose almost touched me, and his billy-goat beard seemed to bristle right into my face, I being the nearest to him.

I felt a cold shiver run through me that froze the very marrow of my bones!

Captain Snaggs had, no doubt, overheard all our conversation, listening quietly, hidden behind the bushes that grew up close to the entrance to the cave, until Tom's last words proved too much for his equanimity, when his indignation forced him to come out from his retreat. He was certainly in an awful rage, for he was so angry that he could hardly speak at first, but fairly sputtered with wrath; and, if a look would have annihilated us, we mast all have been killed on the spot.

He was a terrible sight!

"Oh, thet's yer little game, my jokers!" he yelled out convulsively, as soon as he could articulate his words, glaring at us each in turn. "So, thet durned nigger ain't dead, arter all, hey? Snakes an' alligators! Why, it's a reg'ler con-spiracy all round—rank mutiny, by thunder! I guess I'll hev ye all hung at the yard-arm, ev'ry man Jack of ye, fur it, ez sure ez my name's Ephraim O Snaggs!"

His passion was so intense that we were spellbound for the moment, not one of us venturing to speak or reply to his threats—he staring at us as if he could 'eat us without salt,' as the saying goes, while we remained stock-still and silent before him.

As for Sam, he wallowed on the ground in terror, for the captain looked and acted like a madman.

Hiram Bangs alone had the pluck to open his mouth and confront the skipper.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

MR FLINDERS IN A FIX.

Before relating what next occurred, however, I must break off at this point and make a slight bend in my yarn here, in order to mention something that happened immediately before, and which, although I did not come to hear of it until afterwards, had to do with bringing the skipper so suddenly down upon us. Something, indeed, that tended to infuriate him all the more, with Tom Bullover and Sam; for, from his hearing, by their own confession, that they had planned and kept up the delusion about the cook's ghost on purpose to deceive him, he was led to believe that these two had got the better of him in another matter, even more important still in his estimation.

And so, as I am only a youngster and a poor hand at telling a story, though I find somehow or other I'm getting to the end of my yarn sooner than I expected when I first set to work writing it, I think I had best pat down everything that happened in its proper place and order, 'in regular shipshape Bristol fashion,' so that no hitch may occur by-and-by that might 'bring me up with a round turn,' when, perhaps, I could sail on with a free sheet and a fair wind to what you landfolk and longshoremen would call my 'denouement'—a sad one, though, it be, as you'll learn later on, all in good time, as I spin my yarn in my free and easy way!

Well, to go back a bit now, you must know that ever since the thrashing he got from our second-mate, Mr Flinders had kept himself very quiet; not interfering in any way with the work of dismantling and unloading the ship, but leaving the charge of all this in the hands of Jan Steenbock and Tom Bullover—under, of course, the immediate supervision of Captain Snaggs, who, was here, there, and everywhere, pretending to do an awful lot, although really only occupying his time when he wasn't drinking in bullying those of the men, who being tame-spirited, put up with his bad language.

It must be said, though, for the skipper, that he generally left the old hands alone, for they returned his choicest epithets in kind, always giving him quite as good in the rude vernacular as he gave—discipline being rather slack now the vessel was ashore, as in the merchant service a wreck is supposed by the crew to dissolve all contracts and annul whatever articles may have been signed. Such, at least, is my experience of the sea.

During this interregnum of duty, the first-mate hardly ever left his bunk on board the ship save to go into the cabin and partake of what meals Morris Jones, the steward, provided him with just when that lazy beggar of a Welshman liked.

Here he remained for over a week, nursing his damaged eyes and general injuries and, no doubt, brooding over the revenge which he contemplated taking at some future period on his late successful antagonist; for, his jealousy had been keenly aroused by the marked partiality Captain Snaggs had shown in favour of Jan Steenbock, although previously he had always chummed with him—and, indeed, even now, in spite of all that had passed, the captain still occasionally invited him to a friendly orgy in the cabin, when both, as usual, of course, got royally drunk together as of yore!

But, since the finding of the golden Madonna and the development of the treasure-hunting craze amongst us, Mr Flinders had begun to come out from his temporary obscurity, while not at first actually pushing himself forward, or taking any prominent part in our daily routine.

This modest diffidence was due to the fact that the men used to make audible remarks in reference to his 'lovely black eyes,' but as soon as the tint of these gradually merged from green to yellow and then buck to their normal tone, the first-mate grew bumptious and endeavoured to resume his old position of chief officer in the absence of the skipper, when the latter frequently went off alone, as it was his habit now, in solitary search of the buccaneers' buried hoard like all the rest of us—notwithstanding that in public he utterly pooh-poohed its problematical existence and urged on the crew in digging out the dock under the ship, so as to get her afloat again, the only good, as he said, that we could expect from the island being the hope of leaving it behind us as quickly as possible.

He was an artful hand, was Captain Snaggs!

He thought that if he dissuaded the men from looking for the treasure he might have the greater chance of coming across it himself.

Such being the case, the skipper would sometimes sneak off in the middle of the day when work used to grow rather slack at our excavating task, in consequence of the greater heat at that time; for, the sea-breeze which we used to have with us from the early morning then gradually died away, while the light airs that blew off the land during the afternoon and night-time did not usually spring up until nearly sunset.

Then it was that Mr Flinders saw his opportunity; and, as regularly as the skipper would disappear in the distance over the lava field fronting the beach, saying, as he always did, that he was going up the cliff on our port hand 'to see if he could sight any passing vessel'—although the sharpest eyes amongst our lookouts had never yet seen the captain's lean and angular form on top of the said cliff—so, regularly, did the first-mate stealthily descend the side ladder that led from the poop of the ship down to the beach.

Once arrived here, his delight was to overlook the men as they lazily dug out the concrete-like sand and shingle at the bottom of the trench, filling baskets with the debris below which their fellows above hoisted up none the more energetically; and the first-mate could not help noticing that while Jan Steenbock purred them on now and then for a brief spell, he let them, as a rule, take things easily; at this heated period of the day, for Jan was wise enough to see that by not overworking them then he got more labour out of his gang when the temperature grew cooler, and the men could dig with greater "go."

For a while, Mr Flinders did not interfere with Jan's method of procedure, seeing, as any sensible man would, that the second-mate's plan answered its purpose of getting the most out of the hands without making them grumble unduly at their unwonted task; but, soon his love of carping at others asserted itself, and this feeling, coupled with the desire to assert such petty authority as he still had, overcame his sense of prudence, as well as all recollection of the sharp lesson he had received from Jan not so very long before.

The difference between the skipper and Mr Flinders was, that, although the former was essentially cruel and a bully of the first water, he was yet physically brave and a cute, cautious man, who, when sober, knew how far he might venture in his harsh treatment of those under him; while the first-mate, on the contrary, was an utter coward at heart, and of as malicious and spiteful a disposition as he was fond of tyrannising over such as he thought he could ill-treat with impunity.

It never takes long for sailors to 'reckon up' their officers; so, it need hardly be said to which of the two the hands paid the most attention when he gave an order. As to liking either, that was out of the case; but where the men feared Captain Snaggs, the only feeling they had for Mr Flinders was one of contempt—paying back all his snarlings and bullyings in a way that the hands, well knew how to drive home to one of his temperament, as sensitive as it was mean!

Consequently, when, after a bit, he commenced finding fault with this one and that, the men would shove their tongues in their cheek and shrug their shoulders. They did not pay the slightest regard to anything he said; while the more bolder spirits, perhaps, of the stamp of Jim Chowder, winked openly the one to the other, expressing an opinion in a sufficiently loud enough tone for him to hear that 'if he didn't look out,' he would soon become possessed of a pair of eyes "blacker than he'd had afore!"

Then, naturally, there would be a snigger all round, when Mr Flinders had to turn away with a scowl on his unpleasant, cross-grained face. He hated Jan Steenbock all the more, because when the jeering crew displayed their insubordination more strongly than usual, Jan would very properly recall them to their duty—an order which on being given by the second-mate was promptly obeyed, whilst they utterly disregarded even the most trivial command from him, just as they mocked at his reprimands.

This was only noticeable at first, though; for, after a few days' experience of this 'playing second fiddle,' Mr Flinders, waxing stronger as his injuries improved and the discoloration of his 'lovely black eyes' became less apparent, seemed to resolve on trying a fresh tack. Taking higher ground, instead of idly endeavouring to get the men to treat him with respect, he once more tackled his subordinate superior Jan, who, he thought, from his treating him civilly, was sorry for the 'little misunderstanding' that had occurred between them, and would readily 'knuckle under' now, the moment he assumed his legitimate role and 'topped the officer' over him.

Mr Flinders never made a greater mistake in his life than in thus attempting to act up to the axiom of the old Latin adage, which teaches us that "necessity makes even cowards brave."

He had far better have remained content with his titular dignity; for, in seeking to resume the reins of power which he had once let fall, he only received another lesson from Jan Steenbock, teaching him that a placid man was not necessarily one who would quietly put up with insult and rough treatment, and proving that the tables of life are frequently turned in fact as they sometimes are in figure of speech!

This is a long palaver; but I will soon come to the point of it all, and tell what subsequently happened.

You must recollect, though, that I was not on the spot myself, and am only indebted to Jim Chowder for hearing of it—being indeed, at that very time, on my way with Hiram to the cave and the wonderful surprise that awaited us there, an account of which I have just related.

Hiram and I had not long left the shore, said Jim, when the mate, who had his dinner rather late that day, on account of having been up with the skipper drinking all through the previous night, came down the ship's side, looking very seedy and ill-tempered from the effects of his carouse, and with his face all blotchy and his nose red.

He had already been swearing at the steward for keeping him waiting for his grub, and this appeared to have 'got his hand in,' for he had no sooner come up to where Jan Steenbock was at work with the port watch digging in the trench, the second-mate setting the men a good example by wielding a pick as manfully as the best of them, than Mr Flinders began at Jan in his old abusive fashion, such as all on board the ship had been familiar with before the wreck and prior to his thrashing, which certainly had quieted him down for a time.

"Ye durned lop-handled coon!" cried out the cantankerous bully, looking down on Jan from the top of the plank that crossed the trench, and served as a sort of gangway between the foot of the side ladder and the firm ground beyond the excavation. "Why don't ye put yer back into it? Ye're a nice sort o' skallywag to hev charge of a gang—ye're only a-playin' at workin', ye an' the hull pack on yer; fur the durned dock ain't nary a sight deeper than it wer at four bells yester arternoon, I reckon!"

Jan Steenbock was in no wise disturbed by this exordium.

Dropping his pick, he looked up at the mate; while the rest of the men likewise stopped working, waiting to see what would happen, and grinning and nudging each other.

"Mine goot mans," said he in his deep voice, with unruffled composure, "vas you sbeak to mees?"

Mr Flinders jumped up and down on the plank gangway, making it sway to and fro with his excitement.

"Vas I sbeak to ye?" he screamed, mimicking in his shrill treble the Dane's pronunciation. "Who else sh'ud I speak to, ye Dutch son of a gun? Stir yer stumps, d'ye haar, an' let us see ye airnin' yer keep, ye lazy hound!"

"Mistaire Vlinders!"

"Aye, thet's me; I'm glad ye reck'lect I've a handle to my name."

"Mistaire Vlinders," repeated Jan, paying no attention to the other's interruption. "If you vas sbeak to me, you vas best be zee-vil."

"What d'ye mean?" cried the mate. "Durn yer imperence; what d'ye mean?"

"I mean vat I zays," returned Jan; "and eef you vas not zee-vil, I vas make yous."

"Make me!" shouted out Mr Flinders, dancing with rage on the plank, so that it swung about more than ever. "Make me, hey? I'd like to see ye, my hearty!"

But, while the plank was yet oscillating beneath his feet, one of the men in the trench below, by a dexterous drive of his pick, loosened the earth on the side of the excavation; and, hardly had Mr Flinders got out his defiant words than he and the plank on which he was standing came tumbling down, the bully going plump into the pool of water that had accumulated at the open end of the trench forming a little lake over four feet deep.

Of course, the hands all shouted with laughter, their mirth growing all the merrier when the mate presently emerged from his impromptu bath, all dripping and plastered over with mud.

He was in a terrible rage, Jim Chowder said; and as Jan Steenbock came up to help him, he aimed a blow at him with a spade which he clutched hold of from one of the hands, almost splitting Jan's head open, for the thick felt hat he wore only saved his life.

"Thaar, ye durned Dutch dog!" he yelled out. "Take thet fur yer sass!"

Jan fell to the bottom of the trench; whereupon, the men, thinking Mr Flinders had murdered him, at once rushed upon the mate in a body, thrusting him backwards into the water again and rolling him over in the mud and refuse, until he was pretty well battered about and nearly drowned.

Indeed, he would, probably, have been settled altogether, but for Jan rising up, little the worse for the blow that he had received, saving that some blood was trickling down his face.

"Shtop, my mans, shtop!" he exclaimed. "Let hims get oop, he vas not hoort me, aftaire all; and I vas vorgif hims, vor he vas not know vat he vas do!"

But the hands were too much incensed to let the bully off so easily, for they hated him as much as they liked Jan and were indignant at the unprovoked assault Mr Flinders had made upon him. As luck would have it, while they were debating how they should pay him out properly, and whether to give him another ducking in the muddy water or no, a happy means presented itself to them for punishing him in a much more ignominious manner, and one which was as original as it was amusing.

The big tortoises that inhabited the island used to come backwards and forwards past the beach on their passage up to the hills, utterly regardless of the ship and the men working, especially towards the evening, as now; and just as the fracas happened, one of these huge creatures waddled by the trench, making for its usual course inland.

"Hullo, mates!" sung out the leading wag of the crew, "let's give our friend a ride for to dry hisself; here's a cock hoss handy!"

This was thought a capital lark; and, the suggestion being acted upon immediately, the tortoise was summarily arrested in its onward career and Mr Flinders lashed across its shelly back, like Mazeppa was strapped upon the desert steed—the hands all roaring with laughter, Jim said, while the mate struggled in vain with his captors and the giant tortoise hissed its objections at the liberty taken with it in thus converting it into a beast of burden without leave or license!

It must have been a comical sight according to Jim Chowder's account.

Even Jan Steenbock, he said, could not help grinning; for, although Mr Flinders screamed and yelled as if he were being murdered, Jan saw that the men were not really hurting him, and he thought there was no call for his interference, especially after the manner in which the mate had acted towards him previously—indeed, all along, arrant bully that he was.

Consequently, he let matters take their course, his smile breaking into the general laugh that arose presently when, one of the men giving the tortoise a dig with his boot as soon as the mate was securely mounted, the unwieldy reptile waddled off into the bush with Mr Flinders, bawling, spread-eagled on its back and brandishing his arms and legs about, trying to free himself from his lashings.

"Durn ye all for a pack o' cowards, ten ag'in one!" screamed out the mate as he was lost to sight in the cactus grove, the prickles from which no doubt tore his legs, thus heightening the unpleasantness of his situation. "I'll pay ye out for this, ye scallywags, I will, by thunder, when I get loose."

"All right," shouted back the men between their bursts of laughter as he disappeared from view, howling and shrieking and swearing away to the end; the tortoise plodding on regardless of his struggles, which, indeed, accelerated its pace onwards to its retreat in the hills. "You can carry on, old flick, when you finds yourself free!"

And, then, they raised one of their old sailor choruses with much spirit—

"Oh, he'll never come back no more, boys, He'll never come back no more; For he's sailed away to Botany Bay, And 'll never come back no more!"

While they were in the middle of this—Jim Chowder singing the solo of the shanty, and the others joining in with full lung power in the refrain—who should appear from the opposite direction to that in which the mate had disappeared on his strange steed, but, Captain Snaggs!

The skipper looked very strange and excited.

"Hillo, my jokers!" he exclaimed as soon as he got near enough to hail the men, "whaar's Mister Flinders? I wants him at oncest."



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

"SKELETON VALLEY."

"This wer a reg'ler sockdollager!" said Jim Chowder, when narrating the circumstances to us; for on this unexpected enquiry after the mate coming so suddenly after the men had treated him in so ignominious a fashion, they were "knocked all aback!"

So, for the moment, no one answered the skipper's question.

Of course, this did not tend to allay his excitement. "Can't nary a one o' ye speak?" he cried angrily. "Whaar's the fust-mate—ye ain't made away with the coon, hev ye?"

"He's out fur a ride, cap," at last said the wag of the party, whereat there was another outburst of laughter. "Mr Flinders wer a bit out o' sorts an' hez gone up theer fur a hairin'."

"Thaar!" echoed the skipper, looking to where the man pointed with his hand. "Whaar?"

"Up in the hills," replied the other grinning hugely at Captain Snaggs' puzzled expression. "He's gone fur a ride a-tortoise-back."

"Ye're a durned fule!" shouted the skipper, thinking he was 'taking a rise' out of him. "Don't ye try on bamboozlin' me. What d'ye mean by his goin' a-ridin', an' sich nonsense?"

"He vas shbeak ze drooth, cap'en," put in Jan Steenbock, who was still wiping the blood from his face as he got up to answer him. "I vas zee Mistaire Vlinders zail avays oop dere on ze back of von beeg toordle joost now."

"By thunder, ye're all makin' game of me, I guess!" yelled the skipper, seeing that Jan was grinning like the rest, "I s'pose ye've been hevin' a muss ag'en. Now, I ain't a-goin' to stand no more bunkum. What hev ye done with Mr Flinders, I axes fur the last time?"

"I vas not do nuzzin," replied Jan quietly, continuing to wipe his face. "Ze mate vas shtrike me, but I vas not touch him meinselfs, I vas not lay von hand upon hims."

"Then what in thunder air becom' of him?"

"He wer gone a-ridin', cap," said the man who had previously spoken, proceeding to explain what had occurred. "He came down drunk out of the ship and went abusin' Mr Steenbock as never sed a word to him, and then struck him with a spade, nigh killing him. So we tumbles him over in the water theer to stop his doin' any more mischief, for he wer that mad as he looked to murder the lot of us."

"And then, boss," went on Jim Chowder, as he told up, taking up the story, "ez he were pretty well wet with his ducking, we lashed him on to the back of a tortoise ez come by, an' sent him up in the hills, fur to dry hisself, 'ridin' a cock horse to Banbury Cross' like!"

At this the hands laughed again, and the skipper, whom they now surmised must have been drinking again when away on his prospecting tour, became perfectly furious; for he turned quite white, while his billy-goat beard bristled up, as it always did when he was angry.

"This air rank mutiny!" he shouted, drawing his revolver and pointing it at Jim Chowder; "but I'll soon teach ye a lesson, ye skunks. Hyar goes fur one o' ye!"

Jan Steenbock, as on a previous occasion, however, was too quick for him; for he knocked the weapon out of his fist, and then gripping him in a tight grasp, threw his arms round the captain's body.

The skipper foamed at the mouth, and swore even worse than Mr Flinders had done just before; but, presently he calmed down a bit, and sat down on the ground—shaking all over, as soon as Jan had removed his grip, though keeping close to him, to be on the watch for his next move, as he expected him to have one of his old fits again.

But the convulsions seemed to pass off very quickly; and the captain, looking like himself again after a few moments, jumped to his feet.

He then stared round about him, as if searching for something or some one, evidently forgetting all that had just happened.

Suddenly his eyes brightened.

"Thaar he is!" he cried, "thaar he is!"

"Who, sir?" asked Jan, seeing his gaze fixed in the direction of the cactus grove, behind which the mate had vanished on his tortoise—"Mistaire Vlinders?"

"No, man, no," impatiently cried the skipper; "I wanted him to come with me, but ez he's not hyar, ye'll do ez wa-all, I reckon. It's the black buccaneer cap'en I mean, thet I met jest now, over thaar in the vall'y."

"Ze boocaneer cap'en," repeated Jan, utterly flabbergasted—"ze boocaneer cap'en?"

"Aye, ye durned fule; don't ye reck'lect the coon ez ye told me ez burrit the treesure? Come on quick, or I guess we'll lose him!"

"And yous have zeen hims?"

"Aye, I hev seed him, sure enuff," replied Captain Snaggs, seizing Jan, and trying to drag him with him; "an', what's more, he an' I've been drinkin' together, me joker. We've hed a reg'ler high old time in the vall'y thaar, this arternoon, ye bet!"

"In ze valleys?"

"By thunder! ye're that slow ye'd anger a saint, which I ain't one," returned Captain Snaggs, indignantly. "I mean the vall'y whaar the skeletons is crawlin' about an' the skulls grinning—thet air one belongin' to the buccaneer cuss is a prime one, I ken tell ye. It beats creation, it dew, with the lizards a-creepin' through the sockets, an' a big snake in his teeth. Jeehosophat! how he did swaller down the licker!"

Up to now the men could not understand that anything out of the common was the matter with the skipper beyond being drunk, perhaps, and in a passion—no, not even Jan; but, as soon as he got talking on this tack about snakes and skulls, then all saw what was the matter.

So, now, on his darting off towards the hills in his delirium, Jan Steenbock and Jim Chowder, with a couple of the other hands, quickly followed in pursuit of the demented man.

He had got a good minute's start, however, before they recovered from their astonishment at his incoherent speech and were able to grasp the situation; so, he was almost out of sight by the time they went after him.

It was a long chase, Jim said, for they went in and out between the thorny fleshy-handed cactus trees and over the lava field, tumbling into holes here and tearing themselves to pieces with the thorns there—the skipper all the while maintaining his lead in front and running along as freely and smoothly as if the track were an even path, instead of being through a desert waste like that they raced over.

After a bit, they passed over all the intervening lava field and struck amongst the grass and trees; and then they came up to Mr Flinders, who was still lashed on the back of his tortoise, which had 'brought up all standing' by the side of a little water-spring, and was greedily gulping down long draughts of the limpid stream that rippled through the glade beneath the shade of a number of dwarf oaks and zafrau trees which had orchilla moss growing in profusion on their trunks—some of these being nearly three feet in diameter, and bigger, Jim said, than any trees he had previously seen on the island.

Those in pursuit of the skipper thought he would have stopped on thus meeting the first-mate.

But, no. He did not halt for an instant.

"Come on, Flinders," he only called out. "Come on, Flinders, we air arter the buccaneer cap'en an' the treasure!"

Then, plunging down the side of the hill he made for a bare space further down beyond the trees, waving his arms over his head and shouting and screaming at the pitch of his voice, like the raging madman that he had become.

Arrived at the bottom of the declivity, the captain abruptly paused; and Jim Chowder and Jan, who were close behind, came up with him.

There was no need to stop him; for the skipper flung himself on the ground at a spot where, to their wonder, they now observed three skeletons sitting up and arranged in a circle; while in the centre of the terrible group of bony figures was a cask on end, whose odour at once betrayed its contents.

Rum!

A pannikin was on the ground beside the hand of one of the remnants of mortality, and this the skipper took up, drawing a spigot from out of the cask and filling it.

"Hyar's to ye, my brave buccaneers!" he cried, tossing it off as if it had been water. "Hyar's to ye all an' the gold!"

He was going to fill another pannikin and drain that; but Jan Steenbock kicked over the cask, preventing him.

Captain Snaggs at once sprung to his feet again.

As before, he took no notice of Jan's action.

It appeared as if his mind were suddenly bent on something else and that he now forgot everything anterior to the one thought that possessed him.

"Come on now, my brave buccaneers, an' show us the gold," he cried. "Lead on, my beauties, an' I'll foller, by thunder, to the devil himself!"

So saying, back he climbed up the hill, and down a little pathway along the top till he came to the entrance to the cave which Tom Bullover and Hiram and I had first discovered; and then, suddenly, before Jan Steenbock and Jim Chowder could see where he had gone, he disappeared within the opening.

Jan and Jim alone had continued the pursuit, the other hands having remained behind to release the first-mate from his uncomfortable billet on board the tortoise; and Jim Chowder giving up the hunt at this point, and returning to rejoin his comrades, Jan Steenbock only remained, the latter telling us later on, when we all compared notes, that, after looking for the skipper over the cliff, where he at first believed him to have fallen, he finally traced him into the cave.



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

A WARNING SHOCK.

"Wa-all, I'm jiggered!" ejaculated Hiram, having recourse to his usual favourite expression when startled or surprised at anything, as the skipper, after evading Jan Steenbock's pursuit, darted out of the cave and appeared on the scene, destroying the harmony of our happy meeting with Sam. "Keep yer haar on, cap, an' don't make a muss about nuthin'!"

Captain Snaggs, in response to this, made a gesture as if he were going to strike him.

"Ye durned rep-tile!" he yelled out. "I'll soon knock the sass out o' ye; I will so, by thunder!"

"No, ye don't, cap; no, ye don't," said Hiram good-humouredly, putting up his fists to guard himself, but not doing so offensively. "I guess two ken play at thet game, I reckon, an' ye'd best let me bide; fur, I'm a quiet coon when ye stroke me down the right way, but a reg'lar screamer when I'm riled, an' mighty risky to handle, sirree, ez ye ken bet yer bottom dollar!"

"Jee-rusalem—this air rank mutiny!" exclaimed the skipper, starting back. "Would ye hit me, yer own cap'en?"

"No, cap; I don't mean fur to go ez fur ez thet,"—replied the other, lowering his fists, but keeping his eye steadily on Captain Snaggs, the two looking at each other straight up and down—"not if yer doesn't lay hands on me; but, if yer dew, why, I reckon I'll hev to take my own part, fur I ain't a-goin' to be knocked about by no man, cap'en or no cap'en, ez we're now ashore an' this air a free country!"

"Snakes an' alligators, this air a rum state o' things!" cried the skipper, sobering down a bit at this reply, as well as awed by Hiram's steadfast manner. "But, I don't kinder wish to be at loggerheads with ye, my man, fur ye hev ben a good seaman right through the vy'ge, an I ken pass over yer sass, ez I don't think ye means any disrespect."

"Nary a cent, cap," agreed Hiram to this; "nary a cent o' thet."

"But ez fur thet durned nigger thaar," continued the skipper, foaming up with passion again on seeing Sam and Tom grinning together at his backing down so mildly before Hiram's resolute attitude, neither of them, nor any of us indeed, recognising that he was in a state of delirium, "I'll hev him an' thet scoundrel of a carpenter in irons, an' tried fur conspi-racy, I guess, when we git back to some civilised port."

"Better wait till ye fetch thaar, boss," said Hiram drily. "I guess we air hard an' fast aground jest now; an' it ain't no good a-talkin' till ye ken do ez ye sez; threat'nin's air all bunkum!"

"I'll soon show ye the rights o' thet," shouted Captain Snaggs, making a rush past Hiram to reach Sam, who drew away behind Tom, just beyond his grasp. "Only let me catch holt on thet durned nigger, an' I'll skin him alive. I'll ghost him, I will!"

Hiram, however, protected the darkey with his outstretched arm, thus barring the skipper's advance; while Tom Bullover also stood up in front, further shielding Sam, who now spoke up for himself from his safe position in the rear, whither I too retreated out of harm's way.

"Golly! Massa Cap'en," said Sam, with a native dignity and eloquence which I had not previously believed him to possess, "what fur am yer wish ter injure a pore black man like me, dat nebbah done yer no harm? But fur der impersition ob der good God abobe us all, yer'd a-murd'red me, as yer taut yer hab dat time dat yer shoots me, an' I tumbles inter de sea?"

"Harm, cuss ye?" retorted Captain Snaggs. "Didn't ye try to pizen me afore I went fur ye? It wer arter thet I drew a bead on ye with my six-shooter!"

"No, Mass' Snaggs," answered the negro solemnly; "I'se swan I nebbah done dat ting! I'se nebbah pizen yer, nor no man. I'se only put one lilly bit jalap in de grub, fo' joke, 'cause yer turn me out ob de galley fo' nuffin'. I'se only done it fo' joke, I swan!"

"A durned fine joke thet, I reckon," sneered the skipper, snorting and fuming with rage at the recollection. "Why, me an' Flinders hed the mullygrabs fur a week arterwards; an' I guess I don't feel all right yet! I ain't half paid ye fur it, by thunder! But, thet ain't the wust by a durned sight; fur, by yer dodrotted tomfoolery, an' carryin' on with thet scoundrel yer accomplice thaar—thet British hound, Bullover, I mean—ye hev so fuddled every one aboard thet ye hev caused the loss of the shep an' cargy on this air outlandish island. I'll make ye answer fur it, though—I will by the jumpin' Jeehosophet!"

"Ye air wrong thaar, cap," put in Hiram here; "ye air wrong thaar!"

"Wrong! Who sez I'm wrong?"

"I dew," replied the other, in his sturdy fashion, in no ways abashed by the question—"I sez ye air wrong. It warn't Sam ez lost the ship, or 'cashion'd the wrack in airy a way, nor yet yerself, cap, neither. It wer summat else."

"Thunder!" exclaimed the skipper, puzzled by this. "What dew ye make it out fur to be?"

"Rum, an' not 'thunder,' mister," at once responded Hiram, equally laconically. "I guess if ye hedn't took to raisin' yer elber thet powerful ez to see snakes, an' hev the jim-jams, we'd all be now, slick ez clams, safe in port at 'Frisco!"

This home truth silenced the captain for the moment, but the next instant he startled us all with an utterly inconsequent question, having no reference to what he had before been speaking of.

"Where hev ye stowed it?"

Hiram stared at him.

"I don't mean ye," said the skipper, dropping his eyes as if he could not stand being gazed at; and I could see his face twitching about in a queer manner, and his hands trembling, as he turned and twisted the fingers together. "I mean the nigger an' thet other skunk thaar—the white man thet's got a blacker heart inside his carkiss than the nigger hez. Whaar hev they stowed it?"

"Stowed what, cap?" inquired Hiram, humouring him, as he now noticed, for the first time, in what an excited state he was. "I don't kinder underconstubble 'zactly what yer means."

"The chest o' gold," snorted out the skipper. "Ye know durned well what I means!"

"Chest o' goold?" repeated Hiram, astonished. "I hevn't seed no chests o' goold about hyar. No such luck!"

"Ye lie!" roared the captain, springing on him like a tiger, and throwing him down by his sudden attack, he clutched poor Hiram's throat so tightly as almost to strangle him. "I saw the nigger makin' off with it, an' thet scoundrel the carpenter; fur the buccaneers told me jest now. Lord, thaar's the skull rollin' after me, with its wild eyes flashin' fire out of the sockets, an' its grinnin' teeth—oh, save me! Save me!"

With that, he took to crying and sobbing like mad; and it was only then we realised the fact that the skipper was suffering from another of his fits of delirium, though it was a far worse one than any we had seen him labouring under during the voyage.

Tom Bullover and Sam had the greatest difficulty in unclenching his hands from Hiram's neck and then restraining him from doing further violence, our unfortunate shipmate being quite black in the face and speechless for some minutes after our releasing him.

As for Captain Snaggs, he afterwards went on like a raging madman; and it was as much as Tom and Sam could do, with my help, to tie his hands and legs so as to keep him quiet, for he struggled furiously all the while with the strength of ten men!

In the middle of this, we heard a strange rumbling noise under our feet, the ground beginning to oscillate violently, as if we were on board ship in a heavy sea; while, at the same time, a lot of earth and pieces of rock were thrown down on us from the heights above the little plateau where the cave was situated. The air, also, grew thick and heavy and dark, similarly to what is generally noticed when a severe thunderstorm is impending.

"Oh, Tom!" I cried in alarm, "what has happened?"

"It's an earthquake, I think," he replied, looking frightened too. "We'd better get under shelter as quickly as we can, for these stones are tumbling down too plentifully for pleasure!"

"Where can we go?" said I—"the ship's too far off. Oh dear, something has just hit me on the head, and it hurts!"

"Come in here to the cave; we'll be safe inside, if the bottom can stand all this shaking. At all events, it'll be better than being out in the open, to stand the chance of having one's head smashed by a boulder from aloft!"

So saying, Tom disappeared within the mouth of the cavern, dragging after him the prostrate form of the skipper, who appeared to have fallen asleep, overcome by the violent paroxysms of his fit, for he was snoring stertorously.

Sam and I quickly followed Tom, and the rear was brought up by Hiram— now pretty well recovered from the mauling he had received at the hands of our unconscious skipper, the shock of the earthquake having roused up our shipmate effectually, while the continual dropping of the falling earth and stones, which now began to rain down like hail, hastened his retreat.

"I guess this air more comf'able," said he, as soon as he was well within our place of shelter, now so dark and gloomy that we could barely see each other, and Sam's colour was quite indistinguishable. "Talk o' rainin' cats an' dogs! Why, the airth seems topsides down, an' brickbats an' pavin' stones air a reg'ler caution to it!"

Hardly, however, had he got out these words than there came a tremendous crash of thunder, a vivid sheet of forked lightning simultaneously illuminating the whole interior of the cavern; and, to our great surprise, we perceived by the bright electric glare the figure of another man besides our own party—the stranger standing at the upper end of the cave, near the block of stone in the centre, where Sam had been seated when I had seen him playing the banjo, and Tom gave him such a fright by pretending to be a ghost.

Sam, now, like the rest of us, saw this figure advancing in our direction, and believed he was going to be treated to another visitation from the apparition which had terrified him previously, and which he was still only half convinced was but the creation of Tom's erratic fancy.

"O Lor', Cholly!" he exclaimed, in great fright, clutching hold of my hand, as I stood near him at the entrance to the cave. "Dere's anudder duppy come, fo' suah! My golly! What am dat?"

But, before I could say anything, much to our great relief—for I felt almost as much terrified as he—the voice of Jan Steenbock sounded from out from the gloomy interior in answer to his question.

"It vas mees, mein frents—it vas mees!"

"Goodness gracious, Mister Steenbock!" sang out Tom Bullover, looking towards him, as the hazy figure advanced nearer and became more distinct, although we could not yet actually see the second-mate's face. "How did you get here?"

"I vas hoont aftaire ze cap'en," replied Jan, coming up close to us now. "He vas get troonk, and go mat again in ze valleys beyont ze sheep, and I vas run aftaire hims, as he vas run avays, and den he vas go out of zight in one big hole at ze top of ze hill. I vas vollow aftaire hims, but den I loose hims, and ze erdquake vas come and ze toonder and lightning, and I vas zee yous and here I vas!"

"Oh, we've got the skipper all right," said Tom. "He nearly killed Hiram jest now in his frenzy; but we've tied him up with a lashing round his arms and legs, so that he can't get away and come to no harm till he's all serene again. I'm a-sitting on him now to keep him down; as, though he's sleepin', he tries to start up on us every minute. By Jingo! there he goes again!"

"He vas bat mans," observed Jan Steenbock, helping to hold down the struggling skipper, whose fits of delirium still came back every now and again. "He vas vool of mischiefs and ze rhoom! Joost now, he vas dink dat he vas talk to ze boocaneer cap'en, and dat he vas show him dat dreazure dat vas accurst, and he vas dink he vinds it, and dat I vas shteal hims avay."

"I'm jiggered!" ejaculated Hiram, in surprise. "Why, he comed up hyar an' goes fur me to throttle me, sayin' ez how I hed took the durned treesor, tew. I guess I only wish we could sot eyes on it!"

"Bettaire not, mine vrents, bettaire not zee it no mores," said Jan, solemnly shaking his head in the dim light. "It vas accurst, as I vas tell yous, by ze bloot of ze schlabe dat vas kilt by ze Sbaniards. It vas only bringt bat look to ze beeples dat vas touch hims. Bettaire not, mein frent, nevaire!"

"I ain't got no skear 'bout thet," replied Hiram, with a defiant laugh. "Guess, we air all on us pretty wa-al season'd to them ghostesses by this time, both aboard ship an' ashore, an' I don't care a cuss fur the hull bilin' on them, I reckon!"

"Shtop!—listen!"—whispered Jan Steenbock, in his deep, impressive voice, as another vivid flash of lightning lit up the cave for a brief instant, making it all the darker afterwards. This was followed by a second crashing peal of thunder, as if the very heavens were coming down and were rattling about our ears; while the ground heaved up beneath our feet violently, with its former jerky motion.—"Ze sbirrits of eefel vas valk abroat in ze shtorm."

Even as he spoke, his solemn tones sending a thrill through my heart, there came a still more violent shock of earthquake, which was succeeded by a tremendous grinding, thumping noise from the back of the cave; and then, all of a sudden, a large black body bounded past us through the entrance close to where we stood. The rush of air knocked us all down flat on our backs, as this object, whatever it was, made its way out, and, finally, we could hear it, a second later, plunged into the sea below at the foot of the declivity.

"Bress de Lor'!" ejaculated Sam, in greater terror than ever. "Dere's de duppy, fo' suah! Hole on ter me, Cholly! Hole on! I'se mighty 'fraid! Hole on ter me, for de Lor's sake, sonny!"



CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE JUDGMENT OF FATE.

We were all speechless, and could see nothing as we scrambled to our feet in the darkness, for the cave was now filled with a thick dust, that nearly suffocated us as well as blinded us—filling our eyes, and mouths, and nostrils.

Presently, the dust settled down; and, then, we found that the cavern was no longer dark, for the crash which had so startled us at first was occasioned by a portion of the roof breaking away, which let in the daylight from above, right immediately over the big rock in the centre that Tom had called "the pulpit."

The rock, however, had disappeared, and this was, doubtless, the mysterious body that had rushed by us through the mouth of the cave, so frightening Sam.

But something more surprising still had happened.

The earthquake, in rending the rock, had upheaved all the earth around it, and there, beneath, in a large cavity, was a collection of old oaken chests, bound round, apparently, with heavy clamps of iron, similar to those used by our forefathers a couple of centuries ago for the storage of their goods and chattels—boxes that could defy alike the ravages of age and the ordinary wear and tear of time, the carpenters and builders of bygone days making things to last, and not merely to sell, as in modern years!

"Hooray!" cried Hiram, springing towards one of the chests, which had been crushed open by a piece of detached rock from the roof of the cave, thus disclosing to view a lot of glittering ingots of gold, with a crucifix and some little images of the same precious metal, like the Madonna figure we had first discovered. "Hyar's the boocaneer treesor, I guess, at last!"

"I vas mooch sorry," said Jan Steenbock, shaking his head solemnly, as we gathered round the hole and eagerly inspected its contents, noticing that there were seven or eight of the large chests within the cavity, besides the broken one and a number of smaller ones, along with pieces of armour and a collection of old guns and pistols, all heaped up together. "I vas mooch sorry. It vas bringt us bat look, like it did to ze schgooners, and Cap'en Shackzon, and all ze crew of zo sheep I vas zail in befores!"

"Why, old hoss," asked Hiram, all excitement, "I guess we air all friends hyar, an' 'll go share an' share alike; so thaar's no fear on a muss happenin' atween us, like thaar wer with ye an' them durned cut-throat Spaniards. Why shu'd it bring us bad luck, hey?"

"I vas avraid of ze curse," replied the other. "It vas hoonted mit bloot, and vas bringt harm to every ones! I vill not touch it meinselfs—no, nevaire!"

"Guess I will, though," retorted Hiram. "I ain't afeard o' no nigger ez was buried two hundred year ago; no, nor on his ghostess neither. What say ye, Sam, consarnin' this brother darkey o' yourn?"

"Golly, Massa Hiram!" said Sam, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of the gold. "I'se tink I'se hab claim to de lot, if it am belong to de nigger family. Ho-ho-ho!"

With that we all laughed; whereupon the skipper, whom we had forgotten for the moment, made a movement where he still lay on the floor of the cave by the entrance, opening his eyes and trying to get up, which, of course, he was unable to do, from our having tied his legs together.

"Hillo!" he called out. "Whaar am I?"

His voice now seemed quite rational, and on Tom going up to him, he found that the delirium had left him, and that he was quite sober and in his senses again, so he unloosed him, helping him on to his feet.

Strange to say, Captain Snaggs did not utter a word about finding himself tied, nor did he seem in any way surprised at being there amongst us. He was not angry either a bit now!

He simply walked up to where we stood and, looking down at the hole with the chests piled up in it, as if following out a concentrated train of thought which had been simmering in his brain before his fit, exclaimed—

"Thaar it air, jest ez I told ye, an' ez the buccaneer cap'n told me. Thaar it air all right, I reckon; an' now we must see about gettin' it down to the shep."

This staggered us somewhat; but Tom Bullover thought it best to humour him.

"How would you like it took down to the shore, cap'en?" he asked, deferentially. "Shall I go and fetch some of the hands, sir?"

"Yes, I guess thet'll be the best plan," replied Captain Snaggs, as easy as you please, and as if only talking about some ordinary thing, and he were giving his usual orders. "Wait a minnit, though. I guess I'll come with ye ez soon as I've toted up the hull lot, fur thaar ain't no fear of any coon walkin' off with the plunder while we're away, an' I want to see how the shep's gettin' on. I reckon she ought to be pretty near afloat by now."

There seemed a method in his madness, even if he were yet mad, for he carefully jotted down the number of chests in his pocket-book; and then, turning away as composedly as possible, he made his way down to the beach by our old path, just as if he had been in the habit of going that way every day of his life and it was quite familiar to him.

"Come on, men!" cried he. "Follow me!"

So, down we all tramped after him in single file to the shore, where we found a stranger thing had happened since our long absence, which, long as it seemed from the series of occurrences that had happened, the one succeeding the other in rapid succession, was not long in reality.

However, it appeared months since we had left the ship; for, in the short space of time, comparatively speaking, that we had been away, all around her had been altered, and she more than anything.

Instead of her being high and dry ashore, with her bows up in the air between the two hillocks where they had been wedged, there she was now afloat, placidly riding on the smooth waters of the harbour by her anchors, which had been laid out, it may be remembered, the morning after she stranded.

This was a far more providential circumstance than our finding the treasure; for even Mr Steenbock, sanguine as he had been at first when he suggested digging the dock under her, had begun to have fears of our eventually getting her off again into her native element—the operation taking longer than he had expected, for the water at the last had penetrated through the coffer-dam, thus preventing the men from digging out the after part of the trench under the keel piece, between the main and mizzen-chains.

Now, through the effects of the earthquake, we were fortunately saved all farther trouble on this score.

The skipper did not appear the least surprised at what had happened, displaying the same nonchalance as he did when gazing down into the cavity where the buccaneers' gold was stowed—as if he had dreamt it all beforehand and everything was turning out exactly according to the sequence of his dream!

As we got nearer, we saw that a number of the men were grouped about the shore, collecting a lot of stray gear, which they were taking off to the ship in the jolly-boat; so, calling to these, Captain Snaggs asked where Mr Flinders was.

"He's gone aboard bad," said one of the hands, with a snigger, whereat they all laughed. "He don't feel all right this arternoon, sir, an' he went into his cabin afore the ship floated."

"I guess, then, we'd better go aboard, too," replied the skipper, quite quiet like. "It's gettin' late now, an' we'll break off work till to-morrow. We'll then set about gettin' the sticks up on her agen, my men, as well as hoist the stores aboard; fur, I means to sail out of this hyar harbour afore the end of the week!"

The hands gave a hearty hurrah at this, as if the idea pleased them, for they must have been quite sick of the place by this time; and the skipper therefore ordered Jan Steenbock and Tom, with Hiram, Sam, and I, to come off with him in the boat, telling us when we presently got aboard not to mention about the treasure to any one yet, as it might prevent the men working and rigging the ship, getting her ready for sea.

This we promised to do, keeping our word easily enough, as we did not find it difficult to hold our tongues in the matter, considering the lot there was for all hands to talk about concerning Sam's restoration to life, after being supposed dead so long. Several of the hands, though, persisted that they knew of the deception all along, and had not been taken in by the ghost business; but this was all brag on their part, for I am sure they thoroughly believed in it at the time, just the same as Morris Jones and Hiram and I did—only Tom being in the secret from first to last!

In the course of the next four days, all the hands working with a will, even more energetically than they had done when dismantling her, the Denver City had her rigging up all ataunto again, while her graceful yards were crossed, and most of her cargo got aboard, all ready to sail.

During this time, the skipper had said not a word about the treasure, nor did he speak of sending up any one to fetch it; and so, as none of us had been back to the cave since quitting it with the captain, after the earthquake and our discovery of the hoard, Hiram and Tom, with Sam and I, stole away late on the afternoon of the fourth day to see whether the boxes were all right—Jan Steenbock being the only one of the original party present when it was found who did not accompany us; but he said he knew it would be unlucky, for him, at all events, and so he preferred stopping away.

So it was that only we four went, though Jan came with us part of the way from the ship, sitting down by the spring which had been the haunt of the doves, to await our return.

Jan did not have to remain there long alone.

No sooner had we got to the cave than we found that the treacherous skipper had anticipated and out-reached us; for, from the hurried look we took, we could see that every single chest and box had been removed, and that all were now probably stored in the captain's own cabin. No doubt, too, by-and-by, he would swear that we had no hand in finding them, whence, of course, it must follow from his reasoning, we were not entitled to any share in the proceeds from the treasure!

This was a pretty state of things, each and all of us thought; and, boiling with indignation, we rushed back to Jan to tell him the news.

But, we met with but sorry sympathy from him.

"You vas mooch bettaire off," he said stolidly—"mooch bettaire off mitout ze accursed stoof! It vas bringt harm to Cap'en Shackzon, and ze crew of ze schgooners dat I vas in; and, markt mine vorts, it vas bringt harms to Cap'en Schnaggs, as zertain as I vas here and dere!"

"I'm durned, though, if I don't make him suffer fur it, if he don't shell out!" cried Hiram hotly, as we all resumed the path back to the shore, much more quickly than we had gone up to the cave. "I'll give him goss!"

"He vill meet his vate vrom elsevere," said Jan Steenbock solemnly, hurrying after us, for Hiram and Tom seemed all eagerness to tackle the skipper at once, and I trotted close after them. "Ze sbirrit ob ze dreazure vill hoont him, and poonish him in ze end!"

And, incredible as my story may seem, quite unwittingly, Jan became a true prophet, as what occurred subsequently will show.

When we got to the shore, we found that the ship had her boats hoisted in, and her anchor weighed; while the topsails were cast loose, showing that she was ready to sail at a moment's notice.

What concerned us most, though, was that we could see no means for getting on board; for the dinghy by which we had landed was towing astern by its painter, and thus all communication was cut off with the shore.

"Denver City, ahoy!" shouted out Hiram, putting his hands to his mouth as an improvised speaking trumpet. "Send a boat to take us off!"

Captain Snaggs at once jumped up on the taffrail on our hailing her.

"Not one o' ye durned cusses comes aboard my shep agen, if I knows it!" he yelled back loudly. "Ye went ashore o' yer own accord, an' thaar ye shell stop, by thunder!"

"Ye durned thief!" cried Hiram, mad with rage at the villain for thus cheating us, and abandoning us to our fate there on that lone desert isle. "Whaar's our treesor?"

"Guess ye're ravin', man," bawled Captain Snaggs; and then, as if this ended the colloquy, he sang out to the hands forward to "Hoist away!"

We then noticed a slight commotion on board, as if some of our shipmates rebelled at the idea of leaving us behind, while they sailed homeward; but this intervention on our behalf was futile, for the skipper brandished his revolver, as we could easily see from the top of the cliff, to which we had now climbed, in order to make our voices better heard on board, and after a momentary pause the sails were let drop and hauled out, and the vessel began to make her way out of the bay.

The captain then called out to us, as if in bragging malice, "I've got every durned chest aboard! D'ye haar? Flinders an' I brought 'em down to the beach last night when ye wer all caulkin'; an' I guess ye air pretty well chiselled at last!—Thet's quits fur the nigger's ghost, an' yer mutiny, an' all! I reckon I've paid ye all out in full, ye durned skellywags!"

Those were the last words, in all human probability, that Captain Snaggs ever uttered in this mortal life.

There had been slight rumblings underground all the morning of that day, as if nature were warning us of further volcanic disturbance throughout the Galapagian archipelago; and now, of a sudden, an immense tidal wave, that seemed sixty feet high at the least, rolled into the little harbour like a huge wall, filling up the opening between the cliffs on either hand up to the very tops of these, as it came sweeping inward from the outside sea.

The next instant, the Denver City, with all on board her, disappeared, the wave sweeping back outwards with its prey, leaving the bottom of the harbour bare for over a mile, where all previously had been deep water.

The sea came back once more, though the tidal wave was not so high as before.

And still once again—ebb and flow, ebb and flow.

It was awful!



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

RESCUED.

We five—Jan Steenbock, Tom Bullover, Hiram, Sam Jedfoot, and lastly, though by no means least, myself—sole, solitary survivors of the awful catastrophe that had swallowed up our comrades, stood on the cliff above the yawning chasm, watching the tidal wave that still ebbed and flowed in diminishing volume at each reflux.

This it continued to do for a full half-hour afterwards, when the sea returned to its normal state, welling up tranquilly on the beach, and quickly washing away all traces of the recent convulsion of nature, as if nothing had happened—a sort of sobbing moan, only, seemed afterwards to come from the water every now and then at spasmodic intervals, as if the spirits of the deep were lamenting over the mischief and destruction they had wrought!

Scarcely could we believe our eyes; for, while not a single plank or piece of timber was cast ashore of the ship, which must have been taken down bodily by the remorseless wave that had hurried our cruel captain and no less cruel mate, and the rest of the crew, nineteen souls in all, into eternity, without the slightest forewarning of their doom, the little bay now looked as quiet and peaceful as of yore, with its outstretching capes on either hand, and everything still the same— equally wild, desolate, deserted, as when we first beheld it!

Most wonderful of all, though, was the fact that we alone were saved.

We were saved!

That thought appeared to flash through all our minds at once simultaneously; and, falling on our knees, there, on the summit of the headland, whence we had witnessed the terrible tragedy and now gazed down on the once more placid, treacherous sea, we each and all thanked God for our deliverance from the peril of the waters, as He had already delivered us from the cruelty of man—in the person of that treacherous, drunken demon who had abandoned us there to the solitude and the misery of exile and sailed off to enjoy, as he thought, the ill-gotten treasure of which he had robbed us. But he had met even a worse fate than he had meted out to us; for, what could have been worse for him than to die and be called to account for his misdeeds at the very moment of the realisation of his devilish design?

However, peace to his evil spirit, One greater than us poor marooned sailors would be his Judge!

That feeling was uppermost in my mind, and I'm sure it was reciprocated by the others, after we had returned thanks to the watchful Providence that had saved us while snatching Captain Snaggs away in the middle of his sins; but his name was not mentioned by any there at that moment, nor did either of us utter a word afterwards, to each other at least, so far as I can remember, about his treatment of us—not even Sam, to whom throughout he had behaved the most cruelly of all.

Sailor-folk, as a rule, are not revengeful, and death we held, had blotted out the past; so we, too, buried the skipper's misdeeds in oblivion!

We stopped there on the cliff without speaking until it was close on sunset.

Our hearts were too full to express the various thoughts that coursed through our minds; and there we remained, silent and still, as if we five were dumb.

All we did was to stare out solemnly on the vast ocean that spread out from beneath our feet to the golden west in the far distance, where sky and sea met on the hazy horizon—with never a sail to break its wide expanse, with never a sound to break our solitude, save the sullen murmuring wash of the surf as it rippled up on the beach, and the heavy, deep-drawn sigh of the water as it rolled back to its parent ocean, taking its weary load of pebbles and sand below, as if sick of the monotonous task, which it was doomed to continue on without cessation, with ever and for ever the same motion, now that its wild, brief orgy was o'er, and its regular routine of duty had to be again resumed!

Tom Bullover was the first to break the silence.

"Come boys," he said, when the sun's lower limb was just dipping into the sea, leaving a solitary pathway of light across the main, while all the rest of the sea became gradually darker, as well as the heavens overhead, telling us that the evening was beginning to close in. "Come, Mr Steenbock and you fellows, we'd best go back to the cave for the night, so as to be out of the damp air. Besides, it won't be so lonesome like as it is here!"

"Ay, bo," acquiesced Hiram. "Thaar's Sam's old sail thaar, which 'll sarve us fur a bed anyhow."

"Dat so," chimed in the darkey. "I'se belly comf'able dere till Mass' Tom friten me wid duppy. I'se got some grub dere, too; an' we can light fire an' boil coffee in pannikin, which I'se bring ashore wid me from ship."

"Bully for ye!" cried Hiram, waking up again to the practical realities of life at the thought of eating, and realising that he was hungry, not having, like, indeed, all of us, tasted anything since the morning, the events of the day having made us forget our ordinary meal-time, "I guess I could pick a bit if I'd any thin' to fix atween my teeth!"

"Golly! don't yer fret, massa," said Sam cheerfully, in response to this hint, leading the way towards his whilom retreat. "I'se hab a good hunk ob salt pork stow away dere, an' hard tack, too!"

"Why, what made you think of getting provisions up there?" observed I, laughing, being rather surprised at his precaution, when everyone else had been taken up with the treasure, and believed that we were on the point of leaving the island for good and all. "Were you going to give a party, Sam?"

"I'se make de preparations fo' 'mergencies, Cholly," he replied gravely. "Nobuddy know what happen, an' dere's nuffin' like bein' suah ob de grub!"

"Thet's true enuff, an' good sound doctrine. Don't ye kinder think so, mister?"

Jan Steenbock, to whom this question was addressed, made no reply; but, as he got up and followed Sam, Hiram took this for his answer, and went after him, the five of us entering the cave in single file.

Here, we found that, from its position on the higher ground, the tidal wave had not effected any damage, the only alteration being that made by the first shock of earthquake, causing the crack across the upper end, which had dislodged the stone in the centre, and disclosed the buccaneers' treasure. So, then, on Sam's producing a good big piece of salt junk, with some ship's biscuit, which he had wrapped up in a yellow bandana handkerchief and stowed away in one corner under his sailcloth, we all imitated the American, and 'put our teeth through' the unexpected food, finding ourselves, now that we had something to eat before us, with better appetites than might have been thought possible after what we had gone through.

Sailors, though, do not trouble themselves much over things that have happened, looking out more for those to come!

The next day, it seemed very strange to wake up and find ourselves alone there, especially after the stirring time we had recently, with the discovery of the treasure, and getting the ship afloat, and all; so, when we crawled out of the cave and went down to the beach, we five forlorn fellows felt more melancholy than can be readily imagined at seeing this bare and desolate, and hearing no sound but that of our own sad voices.

Even the coo of the doves was now unnoticeable, the birds having deserted their haunt in the grove after the earthquake shock, as I believe I have mentioned before. Lucky it was for them that their instinct warned them to do this in time; for the tidal wave had swept completely over the place, and the little dell was now all covered with black and white sand, like the rest of the shore—the sloping strand running up to the very base of the cliff, and trees and all traces of vegetation having been washed away by the sudden inrush of the water.

Jan Steenbock, whose place it was naturally to be our leader, but who had been so superstitiously impressed by the belief that our calamity was entirely owing to our having anything to do with the buccaneers' buried treasure, which he supposed, in accordance with the old Spanish legend, to be accursed, now once more reinstated himself in our good opinion, showing himself to be the sensible man that he always was, despite the fact of his having hitherto, from the cause stated, been more despondent than any of us.

"My mans," said he bravely, turning his back on the beach and away from the treacherous, smiling sea, "we moost not give vays to bat toughts and tings! Let us go inlants and do zometing dat vill make us dink of zometing else! We vill go oop to dat blace vere ze groond vas blanted mit tings bedween ze hills, and zee if we can zee any bodatoes or bananes vot to eat; vor, as mein frent Sambo here zays, it vas goot to look after ze grub, vor we hab no sheeps now to zupply us mit provisions!"

This was sound advice, which we immediately acted on, our little quintet abandoning the shore, and following our leader again up the cliff to the old deserted plantation. This, it may be remembered, Tom and Hiram and I had first lighted on in our quest for the treasure before we discovered the cave, but we now found out that Jan Steenbock had been previously acquainted with it from being formerly on the island.

Here we made a camp, bringing Sam's sailcloth from the cave, with a tin pot and other mess gear he had stowed away for his own use when in hiding there, and no one knew save Tom Bullover that he was anything but a ghost; and here, thenceforward, by the help of the tortoises, whose flesh we fared on, with an occasional wild hog, when we were lucky enough to catch one, our meat diet being varied with the various tropical vegetables which we found in the valley in profusion, we lived until the rainy season came on, when we went back again to the cave for shelter.

It must not be thought, though, that our time was entirely spent in eating, or in devices how we should procure food, notwithstanding that this was the principal care of our solitary desert island life, like as in the case of most shipwrecked mariners.

No, we had a greater purpose than this.

It was the hope of escaping from our dismal exile, through the help of some coasting vessel bound up or down the Pacific, or to ports within the Gulf of Panama; and, in order to observe such passing craft we erected a signal station on the top of Mount Chalmers, and took it in turns to keep watch there throughout the day, with a bonfire hard by, ready to be kindled the moment a sail was sighted.

Alas, our watch for weeks was in vain!

Sometimes we would see a ship in the distance, but she was generally too far off to notice us; and our hearts would sink again to utter despondency when this occurred, more than when we never noticed any sail at all, on our seeing her gradually melting away, until she would be finally lost in the mists of the sea and air.

At last, however, one morning, about six months or so after the loss of the Denver City—I'm sure I cannot tell the precise date, for we began then to forget even the passage of time—Tom Bullover, who was on the look-out, came rushing down the sloping side of the cliff like a madman, covering yards with each leap and bound he took in his rapid descent, looking as if he were flying.