Story 1--Chapter XVII.
The Protectors of the Treasure.
That night passed away quietly enough, after a discussion as to future proceedings, when it had been decided to leave Sam Oakum to his own devices; for they were so solely dependent upon his success that it would have been folly to interfere.
“It was easy enough at Ramwich to talk about sweeping the sea till we found what we sought,” said Mr Parkley, dolefully; “but now we are here it seems as if we might hunt for our lifetimes without success.”
“And yet that scoundrel discovered the old wrecks,” said Dutch, firmly. “What one man has done another can do. For my part, now we are out upon the adventure, I mean to stop till we succeed.”
Mr Parkley patted him on the back, and looked up smilingly at him; and Dutch’s words seemed to impart spirit to all present.
Sam Oakum had insisted upon taking the first watch, declaring that he was not tired, and wanted to think; and the consequence was that the sun was well up before he put in an appearance on deck after his breakfast.
“Now, Oakum,” said Captain Studwick, rather impatiently, “what do you propose doing? Shall we up anchor and run along the coast a little way, and then anchor and have a fresh search?”
Sam did not reply, for he had his cake of tobacco in one hand and his knife in the other, and he was going to take a piece off for his morning refreshment. But knife and cake remained unemployed as his attention seemed fixed by something ashore. Then the cake was thrust back into one pocket, the knife closed with a snap and thrust back into the other, and he took a glance round.
The ship was now swinging in a different direction to that which it had occupied on the previous day, and this seemed to puzzle Sam for the moment. The tide was low, too, and that made a difference in the surroundings—rocks standing clear of the water that were invisible before, and there was a ravine opened out that was not visible on the previous day.
“She’s dragged her anchor a bit, hasn’t she?” said Sam, at last.
“No,” said the captain, “we were too close to those rocks, so I up with the anchor this morning, and let her drift a couple of hundred yards before dropping it again.”
“Just hand us that double-barrel spyglass o’ yourn, Mr Pugh, will you please?” said Oakum quietly; and when he had set it to the right focus for his eyes, he took a long look at the shore, shut the glass up, returned it, sat down on the deck, and taking out his tobacco and knife hewed off a good piece of the hard cake, and thrust it into his mouth without a word.
“Well, Mr Oakum,” said the captain, at last, with a look of annoyance on his face, “what is to be done next?”
“Send forrard for ’Pollo,” said Sam, coolly.
The captain gave an impatient stamp, but turning to the mulatto, who was by the bulwark, sent him for the black cook.
“You want me, sah?” exclaimed ’Pollo, showing his white teeth.
“So I do, ’Pollo,” said Sam, borrowing the glass again from Dutch, and, after focussing it, placing it flat on the bulwarks, and bringing it to bear on some object ashore. “Now, come here, ’Pollo,” he continued; “stoop down and take a squint through this here glass, and tell us what you see.”
’Pollo stooped down to look through the glass.
“Not that way, you lubber,” cried Sam. “What are you shutting one eye up for? Don’t you see it’s a double spyglass?”
“Oh, yes, sah—I see, sah,” said ’Pollo, bending down for another look.
“Now you’re a-shutting up tother eye,” cried Sam, sharply.
“Was I, sah? Well, so I tink I was. Now, den, I try bofe open togedder. Dat’s him; I see beauful now. All de lubbly trees shinin’ in de sun, and four big long trees lie down top o’ one anoder. All blow down by de wind.”
“And what’s that, ’Pollo?” cried Sam, giving him a slap on the back, as he pointed to a rock lying under the shade of a point right aft.
“Dat am de rock like de wet monkey, Mass’ Oakum, sah. Dere, genelmen, I tell you I find de place easy ’nough.”
“Don’t you think it might be me as has found it?” said Sam, with a grim laugh. “There, gentlemen, I couldn’t answer for those trees being blown down by a hurricane. I looked out for them to take my bearings, and they were gone. I must have seen the rock, too, at low water.”
“Then you think we are near the place?” cried Dutch, eagerly.
“Well, sir,” said Oakum coolly, “I won’t be too cocksure to a foot or two in a few thousand miles; but if the capen here will send out a kedge anchor in the boat, and drop it about a dozen fathoms towards that rock to port there, and haul upon it till the schooner’s bowsprit pynts dead for them two rocks, so as we has them in a line, I’ll eat my hat if we ain’t right over some part or other of the old wreck.”
A dead silence ensued for a few moments as if every man’s breath was taken away, and then giving his orders sharply a little anchor was lowered down into the jolly-boat; and to Mr Jones was given the task of carrying out the manoeuvre. This was soon done—the anchor dropped over the boat’s side with a splash, taking firm hold directly, and then the hawser was hauled upon by the men on board, till the position of the schooner was altered so that she lay with her bowsprit pointing right across the two rocks indicated by Oakum.
“That will do,” the latter shouted—“not another foot. Make fast.”