The Pirate Island: A Story of the South Pacific

by Harry Collingwood

All day long their thoughts were busy upon the subject of the gold mine; and by the time that they got back to the cottage that evening each man had an idea in connection with it to communicate to the others. They were unanimous upon one point, which was that—after Ralli’s remark to Dale in the morning, and the espionage which it seemed to suggest—it would be most unwise for any of the male portion of the party to visit the cave during the day. Henceforward their visits there would have to be as few and far between as possible, and such visits as were unavoidable must be made during the night. With the women it would, of course, be different. They could now safely venture out every day, it was believed; and as the walk up the valley was the one which involved the least exertion, it would only appear natural that they should almost invariably take it. But, in order to disarm suspicion, in case anything of the kind happened to exist, it was deemed best that an occasional walk should be taken in some other direction until they could resume the road toward the ravine with the certainty that they had not been watched and followed.

It was further agreed all round that the task of carrying the gold, when collected, over the most dangerous part of the path along the edge of the ravine was not to be thought of, especially as Captain Staunton had thought out a plan by which all danger might be completely avoided. His idea was exceedingly simple, and consisted merely in the erection on each side of the chasm of a short stout pair of sheers connected together at their heads by a good strong sound piece of rope, having rove upon it a thimble with a pair of clip-hooks attached. The gold could then be put into a canvas bag suspended from the clip-hooks, and, with the aid of a hauling-line, hauled easily enough across the chasm to the other side.

These details agreed upon, they determined to proceed with their arrangements that same night. Accordingly, as soon as the evening meal was over, the men retired to their bunks for a few hours’ sleep—all, that is to say, except Dale, who, quite unaccustomed to bodily labour, felt thoroughly exhausted with his day’s work, and was therefore readily excused. He volunteered, however, to remain up on watch until all the lights in the pirates’ quarter were extinguished, and then to take a good look round the settlement, and call the others when all was quiet; a raid upon the capstan-house being the first thing necessary to enable them to carry out their plans successfully.

The pirates, working hard all day in the open air, were, as a rule, tolerably early birds; and by eleven o’clock that night the place was wrapped in darkness and repose. Having thoroughly satisfied himself that this was the case, and that the coast was quite clear for his comrades, Dale roused the latter and then tumbled into his own berth with the comforting reflection that he had at last taken the right course, and done something to regain that respect from his companions which he was beginning to be acutely conscious of having forfeited.

Five minutes later four forms might have been seen—had anyone been on the look-out—stealing quietly across the open space between Staunton Cottage and the capstan-house. Fortunately no one was on the look-out, and they reached the building undiscovered, ascended the ladder, and found themselves standing in the thick darkness which enshrouded the long loft-like apartment.

Here Lance promptly produced his box of matches, and, on striking a light, they were fortunate enough to discover hanging to a nail near the door a lantern ready trimmed. This they at once lighted, and, carefully masking it, proceeded to rummage the place for such things as would be likely to prove useful to them. The place was almost like a museum in the variety of its contents; and they were not long in confiscating a dozen fathoms of three-inch rope, the remains of a coil of ratline, a small ball of spun-yarn for seizings, a sledge-hammer, an axe apiece, a marline-spike, a few long spike-nails, which Lance decided would be capital tools for the ladies to use in picking out the nuggets, and a few other trifling matters. Then, hanging the lantern upon its nail once more, they extinguished it, and made the best of their way down the ladder again.

A pause of a minute or so to look round and assure themselves that no midnight prowler was in their vicinity, and they set off at a brisk pace up the valley, lighted on their way by the clear soft effulgence of the star-studded sky.

They were not long in reaching the shelter of the dense wood at the head of the valley; and once fairly through it, they laid down the bulk of their booty where they could easily find it again, and, returning to the wood, selected a couple of young pines, which they quickly felled. The branches were soon lopped off, after which they cut from the tall slender trunks four spars about ten feet in length to serve for sheers.

Shouldering these, they sought out the remainder of their belongings, and—by this time pretty heavily loaded—continued their way into and up the ravine, arriving at last, under Lance’s guidance, at the great rock which veiled the entrance to the cavern.

Lance and Brook at once scrambled up to the narrow ledge before the entrance, taking with them the ratline and such other small matters as they could carry, while Captain Staunton and Rex remained below to “bend on” and send up the remainder. Many hands—especially if they be willing—make light work, and a quarter of an hour sufficed to transfer everything, themselves included, to the ledge. Torches, chopped out of the remainder of the pines, were then lighted, and, once more loading up their possessions, they plunged boldly into the cavern, Lance as pilot leading the way.