For Treasure Bound

by Harry Collingwood

We saw him walk to the outside of the circle, beyond the limits of the feeble light from the nearly extinguished fire, and peer earnestly into the darkness on every side, going all round the circle, and making the same careful inspection outwards in every direction; and, lastly, he walked down towards the beach far enough to satisfy himself that the boats (which we could just discern) were all right; when he returned, flung more wood on the fire, and then sat down close to windward of it, out of the way of the smoke, filled his pipe, and lighted it. Of course we took very good care to conceal ourselves effectually whilst this patrol of the camp was being made, and I embraced the opportunity to point out to Bob that all the boats seemed to be anchored at a few yards’ distance from the beach, excepting a small punt, and she was drawn a foot or two up on the sand.

The fire now began to blaze up brightly, and I thought this a favourable moment to proceed; for, whilst it afforded us a sufficiency of light to enable us to avoid such obstacles as roots of trees and twigs and branches of shrubs, it would dazzle the eyes of the lonely watcher, and effectually prevent his seeing anything beyond a few yards distant.

I accordingly pulled Bob’s sleeve to attract his attention, and, pointing to the punt, intimated to him that she must be our first object of attack.

We now both rose to our feet once more, and, stealing as rapidly forward as we could, taking advantage of every little bit of cover that offered to pause and reconnoitre for a moment, reached, after about twenty minutes of breathless suspense, the half-stranded punt. To our infinite chagrin, there were no oars in her, and without these we could do nothing.

We now commenced a hurried consultation in cautious whispers as to what had better be done, keeping a wary eye upon the sleeping camp and its solitary watcher all the while. Whilst we were doing this, I suddenly caught sight of a pair of short oars, which I knew in a moment must belong to the punt, reared against a tree in the very midst of the bivouac, and in the full light of the now brilliant fire, and within view of the watching seaman.

I saw it was absolutely necessary that we should have those oars, so I pointed them out to Bob, and directed him to remain perdu, whilst I made an attempt to secure them.

I then set off down the beach until I was far enough away to be able to walk across the open and into the shadow of the bush without being seen, which I succeeded in doing. Once there, I commenced a stealthy approach, putting each foot carefully and noiselessly to the ground, and not venturing to raise one until the other was firmly planted. In this manner I contrived to make my way onward unobserved, and at last gained a cover behind the trunk of the tree against which the oars were standing.

I now took as complete a survey of the bivouac as I could without exposing myself, and, counting heads, I found that there were no fewer than eighty-three sleeping pirates within a few yards of me, in addition to the man on watch. He appeared to be, just at the moment, either in a fit of deep abstraction or a doze; so, without waiting for a better opportunity, I cautiously reached my arm round the tree-trunk, grasped one of the oars, and brought it round to my own side, without so much as the rustle of a leaf. Emboldened by my success, I now tried for the second, which I also succeeded in securing.

Taking an oar in each hand, I at once proceeded to retrace my steps, and, for the first stage, aimed at getting behind a tree which stood only about three yards distant. I soon reached this spot, and on slipping behind the trunk, and taking a hasty glance backward, I was greatly alarmed at seeing the pirate on watch on his feet, looking intently in my direction, and shading his eyes with his hand. I at once concluded that I had been seen, and waited in breathless expectancy for the shout which was to raise the entire crew upon me; but, instead of this, I heard, after a short pause, the voice of the man in soliloquy close to the tree against which the oars had been placed.

“It’s d—d odd,” I heard him mutter; “but I could have sworn that them paddles was standin’ up ag’in this here tree, half-an-hour ago; what the h—l’s become of ’em? Surety none of the chaps is slipped off to have a yarn with old Steve; he won’t thank ’em for disturbing of him at this time o’ night, and rousing him out from between the guns, where I’ll lay anything the old dormouse is snugly coiled away, instead of looking a’ter the brig, as is his dooty. I’ll just slip down to the beach, and see if the boats is all right.”