WHAT WAS IN THE TREASURE HOUSE.
Now, the first thing was for me to get into the Etoyle, and bring a fair provision of food and drink, and then, I thought, I would sink her, or, at least, would get her ready for sinking, so that she, at any rate, should never go on any more evil cruises. This was, however, to be done later.
I went aboard her, therefore, directly I had made my meal, and brought off from her some Boucan, about ten pounds; some dried neats', or deer, tongues, a good amount of powdered chocolate, and some boxes of sweetmeats--the villains seeming to have a dainty taste!--and also I brought away some bottles of Calcavella, a Portygee sweet wine, and a small barrel of rum. And also did I take away some cakes of bread, now very hard and stale, but which, by damping with fresh water and then placing in the sun, became once more eatable. Likewise I provided myself with some of their powder and bullets, not knowing what use I might yet have for such things on the island, or when I was away to sea again.
This Etoyle was indeed a strangely laden bark, full of the most varied things the minds of men could well conceive, and had it been possible--which 'twas not, being without assistance--I would have had her taken to one of the West Indy Isles, and her contents there sold. She had in her, to wit, elephants' teeth and tusks, and some gold dust--though not much of any, neither--which spoke to me clearly of some robbings on the Guinea Coast, also some fine English cloths, silk druggets and hollands, many packs of whole suits of clothes for wearing; some mantuas, a box of lace, another of ribands (again I thought of the mysterious Barbara!), pieces of fine silk duroys and some Norwich stuffs, as well as vast masses of tobacco. Indeed, I thought, this Snow might have visited half the world for her cargo--had I not very well known, or guessed, that 'twas all stolen out of various other ships.
It took me some time shifting all that was necessary for my forthcoming voyage--leaving, you may be sure, much behind in the Etoyle--and then ladening myself with some provisions for the hut, I prepared to depart back to it.
Yet now more counsel came to me. Supposing, thinks I, that while I am away at the hut, Martin with his sloop, or some similar villains, should come into the river! Why! they would at once see all! The Etoyle they would perceive a battered craft--and doubtless they knew her very well--and they would see the strange galliot. This would not do, therefore I must devise some means if I could, not only to remove all marks of our fray, but, if it might be so, to prevent anyone entering the river at all. Then, at last, I decided what I would do.
First of all I took the galliot down out of the river to the sea, and, with a light sail up, I got her to a little cove a third of a league away from the mouth, in which I moored her; and this cove had such projecting spurs that none passing outside would be very like to see her. Indeed, one would have to pass close by the opening of it to do so at all. Then, getting to the boat again, I rowed me back to the river. Next I brought down the Snow to the mouth, moored her fast across it, it being not more than forty to fifty yards at the opening and about fifteen fathoms deep, as I did plumb, and going below I bored a many holes in her sides and bottom so that she began to fill at once, and in half an hour I, who was a-watching from my boat, saw her settling down so that, at last, there was no more of her above water, her masts, as I have writ, being shot away.
"Now," says I, "if Martin and his sloop come in and draw much water, 'tis almost a certainty that they shall go foul of some part of the fabric, which may do me a very good turn--if not, then must I take my chance against them," with which I again prepared for the hut.
That day I did very little work, though so great was my desire to dig into and find the contents of the "treasure house" that I could scarce take my necessary rest. Yet I mastered myself so much that I forced myself to sleep, determining to work at night when it was cool. So I lay me down on the east side of the place this time, the sun having by now gotten to the west, and slept well, awaking not until night was at hand.
Now, amidst all my precautions, 'twas strange to think I had forgotten one thing. I had made no provision for any light at night. The lamp knocked over by the dying pirate was still there where it had fallen, 'tis true, but the oil was all spilled and I could find no other, search as I might. Yet I felt convinced there must be oil somewhere, if I could but discover it. 'Twas not to be conceived that Alderly and the diver had this lamp with them when they plunged into the river to escape from the Etoyle; therefore, if I sought, surely I should find.