Chapter Eleven.
An important discovery.
From the point which they had now reached Sibylla and Ned commanded a bird’s-eye view of the entire harbour, with South Island—as it soon came to be called—for a background, with the southern horizon showing just clear of its highest portion. Ned was now able to form a very much more correct idea of the entire locality than had before been possible; and as he stood critically examining the two basins, a suggestion as to their possible origin and that of the islands themselves presented itself to his mind. Seen from where he then stood the group bore a very strong resemblance to the crater of a long extinct volcano. To begin with, the ridge-like summits of the islands swept round in a form that was roughly circular, and they would have been continuous but for the breaches or channels which separated the islands from each other. They presented an appearance precisely similar to the rim of a volcanic crater; and the inner and outer slopes of the islands were also strongly suggestive of the inside and outside slopes of a crater. The two basins conveyed the idea of two closely contiguous vents for the subterranean fires, and the channels might very well be breaches in the sides of the crater through which the molten lava had burst its way. And this theory was confirmed by the colour of the water at the seaward extremities of the several channels, which clearly indicated the existence of reefs that might very well have been formed by the outflow. Some of these reefs, it is true, were so deeply submerged that the sea did not break over them at all, at least in fine weather such as then prevailed; this being notably apparent in the case of the channel by which the Flying Cloud had entered the harbour. But the mouth of the north-east channel, and that of the north arm of the south-east channel, were so choked with rocks close to the surface that they showed nothing but a wide expanse of white water. In a word, the more Ned thought about it the more convinced he became that he was standing on the summit of a volcanic mountain, the top only of which rose above the surface of the sea. As to the period when the volcano had become extinct, Ned was not scientist enough to form any opinion, but the whole aspect of the place was such as to convince him that it must have been countless ages ago.
Having at length satisfied their eyes with the superb prospect which lay spread out before them and beneath their feet, the happy wanderers—for happy they somehow were, notwithstanding all the unpleasant peculiarities of their position—set out to retrace their steps, reaching their boat about an hour later; when, taking advantage of the shade afforded by a few bushes which grew on the edge of an overhanging bank, they seated themselves on an outcropping rock and did the fullest justice to the luncheon which the friendly steward had put up for them.
It was two o’clock in the afternoon by the time that this meal was disposed of, when Sibylla expressed a desire to have a nearer view of the lofty cliffs bounding the outer basin than she had been able to obtain on the previous day when the ship entered the harbour. The boat was accordingly got afloat and leisurely pulled by Ned close along the northern shore. In due time the dinghy passed between the northern and southern bluffs and entered the outer basin, the water being still smooth enough to allow of her keeping within oar’s length of the shore; and now they began to realise the majestic and indeed terrific character of the nearly vertical rocky walls which shot sheer out of the water and towered far away above their heads. The qualifying word “nearly” is used advisedly in speaking of the vertical rise of these cliffs, because, whereas when they were passed in mid-channel they had the appearance of being absolutely perpendicular, it was now seen that they had a slight—a very slight—backward slope.
The faces of these cliffs were, as has before been stated, so densely clothed with vegetation, mostly in the form of thick-growing shrubs—though trees of quite respectable size were by no means wanting—that but little of the actual rock was to be seen; and here and there among these shrubs and trees monkeys could be seen swinging from bough to bough, whilst thousands of birds darted in and out and flitted to and fro among the branches. One of these latter at length so strongly attracted Sibylla’s admiring attention that she pointed it out to Ned.
“By George!” the lad exclaimed rapturously, “that is a beauty, and no mistake; I must have him. I have long been intending to make a collection of tropical birds for my father, and I might as well begin now; it seems to me that I shall have an opportunity of making a very respectable collection here whilst the mutineers are busy carrying out their plans at the head of the basin.”
“You speak as confidently as though you deemed it an absolute certainty that you will eventually succeed in making your escape from those wretches. Do you still regard the project as a hopeful one?” said Sibylla inquiringly.
“Yes, most certainly,” answered Ned, as he carefully withdrew the bullet from his carbine, and substituted for it a charge of small shot. “The fellows are certain to grow careless, sooner or later, and afford us a chance to give them the slip, even if we do not fall in with a man-of-war and get taken. Keep up your spirits, Miss Stanhope; keep up your spirits and your courage, I say, for I am always thinking and planning, and I never mean to rest satisfied until I have taken you out of the hands of those wretches and safe back to England again.”
“You are very good to say so, Mr Damerell, nay more than good,” answered Sibylla frankly, “and come what may, I shall never, never forget your constant watchful care.”
“Oh, don’t say too much about that,” answered Ned cheerfully. “I look upon you almost as a second sister, you know, and I am only doing for you just exactly what I should wish to be done for my sister Eva if she were placed in a similar position to yours. And as long as you are compelled to remain on board the Cloud, I hope you will trust me as fully and as implicitly as if I were your brother; it will perhaps make you feel less lonely, you know, if it serves no other good purpose. And now, where is my bird? I am quite ready for him.”
The creature was still hopping about among the branches of a tree almost directly overhead, apparently feeding on the fruit or berries which it found there; and taking careful aim, Ned fired. The report of the carbine went echoing back and forth between the cliffs in the most astounding manner, raising a tremendous disturbance, not only by its reverberations along the cliffs on both sides of the basin, but also from the cries of the countless startled birds which suddenly appeared in the air, and the excited chattering of the equally startled monkeys. As the smoke from the piece blew away, Ned saw his quarry tumbling from branch to branch, and bough to bough, until it finally brought up in a small bush which overhung the water some fifty feet above its surface.
“Killed him, by all that’s lucky!” exclaimed Ned joyously. “Now, if you do not mind being left in the boat a moment by yourself whilst I slip aloft there—I will make the painter fast to this sapling so that you may not go adrift—I will secure my prize.”
“But will it not be dangerous for you to climb up there?” protested Sibylla apprehensively.
“If I find it so I will not persevere in my attempt,” answered Ned laughingly, as he grasped a bough and swung himself up on to a projecting ledge of rock.
For a few yards of the ascent Ned’s figure was clearly visible; then, as he ascended still higher, Sibylla caught sight of him only at intervals, and soon afterwards he vanished altogether among the greenery, though his upward progress could still be traced here and there by the swaying of the bushes, but at length this also ceased, and then a dreadful silence and feeling of lonesomeness seemed to enwrap the fair girl as in the folds of a sable mantle. Minute followed minute with painful slowness as it seemed to Sibylla, and every instant she expected to see Ned’s outstretched arm appear from the midst of the shrubs clinging aloft there to grasp the body of the bird. But nothing of the sort occurred, and at length, after a long and tedious period of painful apprehension, she ventured to call his name.
No answer.
Sibylla waited a minute or two, and then called again.
Still no answer.
She now became very seriously alarmed, and, quite losing command of herself, called upon him in piteous accents to answer, or if anything had befallen him to give her some sign of his whereabouts in order that she might be guided to his assistance. Still calling him, she was about to attempt the perilous ascent of the cliff-face in quest of him when she heard him shout, and, looking up, saw him leaning over the edge of a rocky ledge about a hundred feet above her.
“Are you all right, Miss Stanhope?” he shouted. “I thought I heard you call.”
“Yes,” she replied, steadying her voice as well as she could on the instant. “I am all right, thank you, but I have been calling; you were so long away that I began to fear some accident had befallen you.”
“No,” he answered back, “I am all right, but I have made a most wonderful and interesting discovery that—However, I will come down.”
And suiting the action to the word, he at once began to descend the face of the cliff, not vertically, as he had gone up, but in a diagonal direction, and, as Sibylla thought, at break-neck speed. Ned continued his wild career until he reached the water’s-edge, at a distance of perhaps two hundred feet to the westward of the boat, when, from what Sibylla could see of his movements, he appeared to break the bough of a bush in such a manner as to leave the branch dangling from the parent shrub, after which he began to make his way along the cliff-face toward the boat.
A few minutes later he reached the dinghy—minus the bird, by the by, which he had set out to secure—and stepping in at once proceeded to cast off the painter. Then, as he stepped aft and tossed the paddles into the rowlocks, he first got a glimpse of Sibylla’s still troubled face.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Stanhope,” he said. “I am afraid I have frightened you by my long stay aloft there. The fact is I was so interested in my discovery that for the moment I forgot the flight of time.
“I have made a most curious and important discovery, and one that may or may not be of the utmost value to us. When I started aloft to get that bird—by the bye, where is it? Ah! I see it! and I will have it, too, before I go back to the ship; but I will tell you my story first. I had not made my way very far up the cliff when I came to what looked so very much like a flight of roughly hewn steps running up the cliff-face that I determined to follow the indications, and investigate. I did so, and soon came to the conclusion that, though the step-like projections were just as thickly overgrown as the rest of the cliff-face—showing that they had not been used for years, or possibly generations, they had undoubtedly been wrought out by the hand of man. Pushing the shrubs on one side I had no difficulty whatever in making my way upwards, until I at length came out upon a flat platform of rock, in the outer edge of which were two holes or depressions, some twelve feet apart, which I imagined might have been hollowed out to receive the heels of a pair of sheers, an impression which was rendered all the stronger when, on looking more closely, I discovered a groove terminating in a third hole which I immediately guessed must have been formed to receive the heel of the back-leg. All this is, I suppose, Greek to you; but you will perhaps comprehend me when I explain that sheers are used to assist in hoisting heavy articles with. The rocky platform is about fifteen feet square, the cliff-face overhanging it above; and at its back part there is a sort of split in the rock about eight feet wide and nearly the same height. I passed in through this crevice, and at once found myself in a cave perhaps thirty feet wide and about fifty feet deep. And now comes the strangest part of the affair. It is nearly half full of bales and parcels, with several jars, apparently earthenware, their mouths tied over with what looks like a coarse kind of cloth; but everything is so thickly coated with dust and grime that it is quite impossible to guess at the contents of these jars and bales without further investigation. And in one corner there are stacked up a number of weapons—spears and axes—so rusted and decayed that they may have been there for centuries. There are also a number of what I took to be shields by the look of them; but they, like everything else, are so coated with dust that I did not touch them. But I must certainly give the place a thorough overhaul, as it may serve us as a refuge and place of concealment at a pinch. Would you like to go up and have a look at the cave and its contents now?”
“I should like it very much, if you think I could climb the stairs,” answered Sibylla.
“Oh, yes,” answered Ned, “you can do that easily enough, I should think; and I should like you to make the attempt, if only to find out whether you could accomplish the ascent at some future time, if necessary. I will go before and clear the way for you, using the axe if we meet with any very serious obstacles; but I think you will be able to manage without much difficulty. Ah, here, you see, is the landing at the bottom of the flight”—and Ned indicated to his companion a flat ledge about a yard square, close to the surface of the water.
The dinghy was carefully secured, and then, stepping on to the ledge, Ned assisted his companion ashore.
There could be no doubt as to the fact that from this ledge or landing a flight of step-like projections led diagonally up the face of the cliff; and, thickly overgrown as they were, there could be as little doubt that, if not entirely artificial, nature had been largely assisted by the hand of man in their formation. The flight averaged pretty evenly about a yard in width, each step being about six inches high; so that but for the dense growth of shrubs upon them, the ascent would have been exceedingly easy. Even as things were, Sibylla experienced far less difficulty than she had anticipated; Ned going before and then pressing the shrubs aside to facilitate her passage, using his axe here and there to remove such growth as stood fairly in the middle of the way. Nor was the ascent nearly so dangerous as might have been expected, the dense growth all along the outer edge of the stairway forming a sort of bulwark which rendered a fall almost impossible. So safe, indeed, and comparatively easy was the ascent that it was accomplished in about twenty minutes: when, after pointing out the holes in the upper platform, and fully explaining the structure and uses of the sheers which he believed to have once stood there, Ned led the way into the cave.
For a few minutes after entering everything was so dark compared with the brilliant daylight without that nothing could be seen. At length, however, their eyes became accustomed to the soft twilight gloom of the place, when Ned at once began to direct Sibylla’s attention to the various articles that were stored there. The first objects examined were the weapons, all of which were stacked in one corner. The shields—for such they actually proved to be—were circular, about two feet in diameter, and made of a metal which, when cleared of its thick coating of grime and a small portion of its surface scraped with a knife, turned out to be brass. The outer and inner surfaces were both perfectly plain, or, if ornamented at all, the ornamentation could not be discovered without resort to a much more effectual cleaning process than Ned felt disposed to bestow upon them. On the inside two leather straps were rivetted, one for the arm to pass through and the other for the hand to grasp; but so old and decayed were these straps that they crumbled into black dust at a touch. This was also the case with the wooden shafts of the spears, which powdered away like touchwood. And, as for the spear-heads and the blades of the axes, they were so rust-eaten that little more than a rough jagged indication of their original shape remained.
The earthen jars, of which there were twenty-four, next claimed Ned’s attention. These vessels stood about two feet high, and were about ten inches diameter, of peculiar though not ungraceful shape, and they were singularly heavy; as Ned discovered when he seized one with the intention of moving it forward into a lighter part of the cave. The mouth was covered with four thicknesses of a kind of wax-cloth, such as Ned had never seen before; the cloth being bound round the neck of the jar with several turns of fine cord, which, like the cloth, seemed to have been treated with a waxy coating, doubtless to assist in its preservation. If such was the purpose of the treatment, it had succeeded fairly well; but the outer or top layer of the cloth covering the mouth of the jar had rotted and split here and there. The second layer, however, was in a very fair state of preservation, and the other two layers were perfect, proving on examination to be a coarse kind of linen which had either been steeped in or painted over with a composition which felt waxy to the touch, and imparted a yellowish tinge to the fabric.
Ned’s knife quickly severed the cord, which, however, was so rotten that it came to pieces during the process of unwinding, and he then uncovered the mouth of the jar and peered down into it. The vessel was full of a coarse, dull, yellow glistening sand, a handful of which the young fellow quickly removed and carried out into the daylight. He was back again in a moment, exclaiming to Sibylla in a tone of exultant astonishment:
“It is gold-dust, Miss Stanhope! gold-dust, and our fortunes are made!”
“I am very glad indeed to hear it,” answered Sibylla. “But are you quite sure you are not mistaken? How do you know it is gold-dust?”
“I know by the look and weight of it,” answered Ned. “I have seen too much gold-dust in Australia to be deceived in such a matter. Look at it and feel it for yourself—note the weight of a handful of it, and you will be satisfied that I am right. I expect the contents of all these jars are the same, but I will open one or two more just to satisfy myself.”
He did so, and found his conjecture to be correct—the additional three which he opened were all full of gold-dust like the first.
“What shall we tackle next?” asked Ned. “That big bale looks as though it ought to contain something valuable; I think I will pursue my investigations in that direction.”
The bale, which had an outer covering of wax-cloth of a much coarser texture than that which closed the mouth of the jars, proved to be too heavy for Ned to move unaided; so his knife was again brought into requisition, and the cloth—which was still tough enough to offer a slight resistance to the blade—was ripped open from end to end of the bale. The orifice thus made disclosed to view a firmly packed mass of several sorts of fabrics, neatly folded, and laid one upon the top of the other. The first three or four layers consisted of fine linen cloth dyed a deep rich purple hue. Then came several pieces of a heavy, rich kind of brocade; then a quantity of thin filmy muslin, fine as if woven of a cobweb, and exquisitely embroidered with a beautiful and intricate design in very fine gold thread. The brocades had been greatly admired by Sibylla, but these embroidered muslins simply threw her into ecstasies.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands in almost childish delight, “they are lovely; never in my life have I ever seen anything half so exquisitely beautiful!”
“Then,” said Ned, in the most matter of fact way, “I’ll tell you what we will do. The next time we come here we will be provided with the means of carrying off enough of the stuff to make you a dress or two. We cannot do so now, as the men would see it, and questions would be asked; which would never do. But next trip we will contrive to carry away a bolt or two of it.”
Sibylla was a true woman; and even in her present predicament her feminine love of things beautiful was strong enough to win from her a ready assent to Ned’s proposition. In the meantime the muslins were carefully re-folded—a task of some little difficulty, owing to their filmy texture—and replaced in the bale.
Quite a large pile of small brick-like parcels next came in for a share of Ned’s attention. They, like the bales, were enveloped in wax-cloth, and like the jars were singularly heavy. Ned opened one, and on removing the cloth wrapper disclosed to view a block of dull yellow virgin gold. The block was about the same shape as, but a little larger than an ordinary English brick, and stamped or moulded on each side was a sign or symbol of hieroglyphic character.
Ned did not consider it necessary to open any more of the brick-like parcels, as, after his experience with the jars, he felt fairly satisfied that, if opened, each parcel would be found to contain a gold brick similar to the one already disclosed. He was therefore about to suggest a descent to the boat, under the impression that his inspection of the cave and its contents had been completed, when it occurred to him that he might as well strike a match or two and throw a little light into the extreme corner of the cave, in which, now that his eyes were growing somewhat accustomed to the gloom, he fancied he could detect a pile or stack of some kind. He accordingly drew from his pocket a box of matches, and, placing some half a dozen of them together, ignited them. This afforded him light enough to see that there really was a stack of long dark curved objects piled in the angle. To get at these it was necessary for him to climb over the heap of gold bricks, which formed a kind of barrier across the corner, and in so doing his eye fell upon one brick quite at the rear of the stack which was very considerably larger than the others.
Reaching the mysterious stack in the corner he selected one of the long curved objects and, brushing the dust from it as well as he could, proceeded to scrape through the remaining coat of dirt with his knife. By this means he soon reached a hard bone-like substance, upon which he presently scraped a white surface, when the expenditure of a few more matches revealed the fact that he had been operating upon an elephant’s tusk, of which nearly a hundred he thought must be stacked in that dark corner.
On his return to the lighter part of the cave where he had left Sibylla, his attention was again attracted by the extra large brick-like parcel, which he thought he might as well examine. He accordingly raised it from the floor to carry it further forward into the light, when, though tolerably heavy, the comparative ease with which he lifted it at once assured him that, whatever else it might be, it certainly was not gold.
The grimy cloth wrapping was soon removed, and a casket of discoloured but still recognisable brass of elaborate and curious workmanship was disclosed. The lid was not secured in any way, otherwise than by the hinges; and so perfect had been the protection afforded by the wax-cloth wrapping that these worked without difficulty. The lid was quickly raised, and the casket—which measured about fifteen inches long by nine inches wide, and perhaps ten inches deep—was found to contain a number of neat wax-cloth parcels. The first which came to hand—and which, by the way, was by far the largest one—was at once opened, and there before the eyes of the admiring pair, fresh as if just removed from the shell, lay some two hundred or more magnificent pearls—magnificent not only in respect of their unusual size, but also of their exquisite lustre and perfect globular form. Needless to say that in presence of these superb and incomparable gems Sibylla’s admiration of the embroidered muslins dwindled away to insignificance, and her minute examination of the pearls plunged her into a perfect trance of delight. The other parcels were found to contain rubies, sapphires, emeralds, diamonds, and other precious stones, all in their rough state just as they had been unearthed from the mine, but all without exception of extraordinary size. At first the fortunate finders were not greatly impressed at the sight of these stones, for neither of them quite knew what they were—though they judged them to be valuable from the circumstance that they had been deemed worthy of a place in the same receptacle with the pearls—and it was only the gleam of the diamonds which at last awakened in their minds a suspicion that the stones were really precious. When at length, however, this suspicion fairly dawned upon them Ned positively gasped for breath.
“Why,” he exclaimed, “we are rich! rich beyond the power of computation. There must be at least a hundred magnificent fortunes in this veritable cave of Aladdin; and now all that we have to do is to give those ruffians the slip, when I will find means to return here and recover all this treasure. Now,” he went on, “I’ll tell you what we will do. We will divide the contents of this box into two about equal portions, one of which we will convey from time to time on board the ship, whilst the other shall remain here; and in this way I think we may make reasonably sure of securing one half of the gems whatever happens. The gold we must leave, I think, as too cumbersome to be dealt with under our present circumstances, but the dresses you certainly shall have. Now, slip those pearls into your pocket, and I will take as many of the diamonds and what not as I can stow away, after which I think we had better see about getting back to the ship.”
“But,” interposed Sibylla, “have we any right to touch these things? Surely they must belong to some one?”
“I have not the slightest idea who was the former rightful owner of all this property,” replied Ned, laughing; “but, whoever he was, he has been dust and ashes ages ago, and so too have the rovers who, I expect, brought them to this out-of-the-way place and hid them in this cave. Why, by the look alone of the things, the arms especially, they must have been here at least hundreds of years! There is no doubt a deeply interesting story attaching to this hoard, but what it is we shall probably never know. Of one thing, however, you may rest assured, and that is that we, as the finders, have a better right to everything in this cave than anyone now living.”
The reasonableness of this argument satisfied even Sibylla’s sensitive conscience, and she made no further demur to Ned’s proposed arrangements.
An hour and a half later they reached the ship, just as the sun was setting, and found her still deserted, though the men could be seen mustering on the beaches and preparing to return on board. Advantage was taken of this circumstance by Sibylla to stow away in her own boxes, at Ned’s request, all the jewels brought on board, thus leaving that young gentleman free to meet Williams on his return to the ship and to make such a report of his explorations as he might deem fit. Half an hour later all the men had returned on board, and though they were thoroughly fagged out by their unwonted exercise they had evidently enjoyed the day just as much as though they had been so many schoolboys.
On the following morning work was begun in earnest, part of the men being engaged in unbending sails and sending down the upper spars, whilst a contingent under Williams landed and proceeded to cut down trees for the purpose of building stores, a dwelling-house, a kitchen, and so on, on shore. Williams’ plans comprised no less than the entire stripping of the ship down to a gantline; the thorough overhauling of her hull, inside and out, including cleaning and scrubbing; and a number of petty alterations in her rigging, which he thought would have the effect of disguising the vessel. And in addition to this he also proposed to construct on shore permanent buildings for the storage of his booty, as well as for the residence of a small contingent of men to guard it. This of course was not only a work of considerable time, but it also involved the complete evacuation of the ship, a circumstance which Ned foresaw would cause very serious inconvenience to Sibylla. This, however, was at length happily surmounted by his obtaining the very reluctant consent of Williams to employ some of the men in the construction of a hut for her sole accommodation, he at the same time locating himself in a small tent, which was pitched close at hand, so that he might always be able to watch over her safety.
Meanwhile the Southern Cross duly arrived at Melbourne after an excellent passage; and Captain Spence was intensely gratified when he found that nothing had been heard of the Flying Cloud. A week later the Southern Cross was lying with an empty hold, waiting for her homeward cargo to come alongside, and still the Flying Cloud had not put in an appearance. Knowing what he did of the latter vessel’s sailing powers, Captain Spence could only conclude that after the Flying Cloud had parted company with him in the Atlantic, she must have met with a streak of foul wind or light airs which his own ship had happily avoided; but when a week later still, the Flying Cloud had not arrived, the exultation which the honest skipper had at first experienced was converted into a feeling of incipient anxiety, which increased as time went on without any appearance of his rival. The Southern Cross’s cargo was slow in coming alongside; but, nevertheless when she was loaded, and her hatches put on, and she finally went to sea on her homeward voyage, the Flying Cloud was still numbered among the non-arrivals. And when, after a long passage home, the Southern Cross arrived in London, and Captain Spence had time to inquire after his old friend, Blyth, he was not only surprised, but deeply grieved to hear that no intelligence of his arrival in Melbourne had up to that date been received.
But there were others even more interested than Captain Spence in the fate of the Flying Cloud, and these were by this time anxiously watching the columns of the “Shipping Gazette” for tidings of the ship. They came at last, in the shape of the following paragraph:—
Missing Vessel.
“The following vessel, previously referred to as overdue, was on Wednesday posted at Lloyd’s as missing:—
“The ship Flying Cloud (Blyth, master), which left London for Melbourne on —, and which afterwards picked up the derelict barque Umhloti, of Aberdeen, and sent her into port.”