HOW HE GOT AWAY FROM THE ISLAND.
When supper was over, Tite proceeded to give his parents an account of the voyage, and the manner of escaping from the island with the treasure. The reader has already heard that portion which carries the story up to the death of old Dunman, the pirate. It will be only necessary then to give that part of it which relates to what took place afterward.
"Poor old Dunman," said Tite, "he was so kind to us all, and tried so much to relieve our sufferings and make us feel contented that we all liked him, and felt his death was a severe loss to us. There was something so terrible in the story of his life that we used to talk about it at night, and fancy all sorts of strange spirits haunting the place where his money was buried. It was this that made us all impatient to get away from the dreary place. Three or four days after we had buried him, we removed the stones he said the gold was buried under, and there found, as he had told us, bags and boxes of gold and silver, in bars and coin of various kinds, heavy silver and gold ornaments that had been plundered from churches and convents, with pearls and diamonds and other precious stones, enough to fill two iron chests two feet square and two feet deep. There was the thought that it was the price of so much crime. And what good after all was this gold and silver to do us, if we were to die on the island, like old Dunman? We divided it among us, just as we would something of little value, not caring which got the biggest portion. Then, after keeping out what we thought we might want, each buried his part in separate spots, and marked the places with piles of big stones.
"I always had a presentment that some vessel would come along, and afford us the means of getting away; but after several months of disappointment my companions began to despair, and saying they might as well die one way as another, fitted up the boat, and with sails made of prepared seal skins, and such scanty provisions as they could obtain, set sail in search of an island described by old Dunman to be two leagues distant, inhabited, and a place where whalers had been known to touch. Each took two bags of gold with him, promising that if they were successful they would return and rescue me.
"I felt, and told them they were undertaking what was sure death, and bid them good-bye, never expecting to see them again. Week after week and month after month passed, and nothing was heard of them. I was alone, and nothing but the animals old Dunman had domesticated to keep me company. As a means of attracting the attention of any vessel that might be passing, I built a hut on a high hill near the coast, and used to go there at night and build a fire as a signal. There wasn't a sail came near. I had never feared death before; but to have to die on this unknown island, with everything so strange and mysterious around me, and never be heard of again by my parents and friends, excited all sorts of curious fears in me. And the more I thought of it the more I wanted to get away.
"Well, it was five months since my companions set sail. Poor Ryder, poor Doane; these were their names. They were both young men from Cape Cod; and as brave and true-hearted as ever lived. I got up one morning to renew my signal-fire, and was wondering what had become of the poor fellows, and saying to myself how foolish they were to anticipate death. It was just in the grey of daylight. Happening to cast my eye down the coast, I espied the dim figure of a sail advancing quietly up the coast. I shouted for joy at the sight, not thinking or caring whether it might bring friends or foes. The wind was light, but fair, and the little craft, which turned out to be a taunt-rigged schooner of about a hundred and twenty tons, came gliding along like some white-winged thing of life, for she had a square sail and fore and main gaff-topsails set.
"Just before reaching the cove she furled her square sail and took in the gaff-topsails—a proof that she was making port. I hastened down to the coast, for it was broad daylight now, and watched her every movement. She stood into the cove, rounded to, hauled down her jibs, and dropped her anchor. The men in charge of that vessel handled her as if they were familiar with the place. An hour passed, and no attempt was made to land. Men appeared on deck, moving about in the quiet discharge of their duty, but no attention was directed to the shore. Then a man stood on the quarter with his glass raised, and scanned the shore from point to point. Then there was an aggravating pause, and the rest of the men seemed to disappear below. Then an increased number appeared on deck, and began clearing the lashings from the stern boat. That was a joyful moment, for it was a proof of their intention to land. Then the boat was lowered away and pulled alongside, when two oarsmen got in, and were followed by two men who sat in the stern sheets, and who turned out to be my old companions, Doane and Ryder. Deliverance had come at last.
"After being at sea three days and nights in the boat, they were picked up by a New Bedford whaleship, and landed at Honolulu, where they chartered the schooner Lapwing and returned for me. Thinking it necessary to keep our discovery a secret, lest it might excite the cupidity of the crew, who were all natives, we had to proceed cautiously, and disguise our movements as much as we could. It was decided to leave at least half of the treasure until we could find a more secure means of removing it, as well as one less liable to excite suspicion at the points we would be compelled to land at on our way home.
"We got what we agreed to take away quietly on board during the night, having filled Dunman's big old chest with shells and buried it among them. Then each swore on oath that he would be true to the other, and that he wouldn't make an effort to remove what remained except by mutual agreement, and for the benefit of all equally. We disguised all our movements so well that not even the captain of the schooner, who was an old Spanish coaster, accustomed to suspicious transactions, mistrusted what we were doing.
"When we got all ready, we bid adieu to No Man's Island, and set sail for Honolulu, feeling as if we had been set free from a prison. We were on the way home now, and that was enough to lighten our hearts. We were three weeks getting to Honolulu; and had to remain there two months. We wanted an American ship homeward bound, to take passage on. But as none came, we shipped on board the British whaleship Rose, of Halifax, Nova Scotia, with a full cargo homeward bound. We got there after a long and stormy voyage, working our way as sailors before the mast. We were looked on as poor, shipwrecked whalemen; and no one on board thought we had an extra dollar in our pockets. At Halifax we found a vessel ready to sail for New York, and took passage on her, and here I am now, home again, and glad to get home." It was long after midnight when Tite concluded his story; and having received once more the caresses of his parents, he retired to the little room he had occupied when a boy, to sleep and dream of joys that were in store for him.