For God and Gold

by Julian Stafford Corbett

'Revenge,' answered the negro, 'revenge for all the wrongs those hell-hounds have wreaked on us.'

'Why, so do I,' said Frank cheerfully, 'and therefore will I take from them what I want most and what they love best, even gold and silver.'

'Ah, but they love something better than that,' said the chief eagerly, as though clutching at a hope. 'They love life better. And we want something more than gold, we want blood—Spanish blood! To dip our arms in to the elbow, and our legs to the knees,' he went on, with the glare of a wild beast in his eyes. 'Help us to get that, captain, and you shall have all the gold and silver you can want. But for us it is not enough. What your wrongs have been I know not, but ours are such that gold and silver will not avenge them. Had you felt the lash curl round your ribs, had you seen your comrades tortured to new effort when they dropped to die of sickness and fatigue, had you seen a little part of what happens every day to my people, you would forget gold and silver, and all but blood, and never joy but when you saw it bubbling out from the rent your knife had made.'

We were both shocked at the savageness of our new ally, and Frank told him in his plain blunt way that if they attempted anything together the prisoners must be his, as well as the gold, though in the fight they might kill as many as they would. The poor savage was sadly disappointed, and would, I think, have hardly agreed to it if Frank had not fed him with a picture of the havoc our arrows and small shot would make amongst their enemies, and how sorely they grieved over the loss of gold.

'I know, I know,' said the Cimaroon sadly; 'and often we take gold from them, not from love of it, but in despite of them. So be it as you say, captain, for you we will follow to death against the Spaniards, whatever be your will. Yet had I known it was gold you wanted, there is plenty we have taken and sunk in the rivers which you might have had, but now they are so swollen with the rains that there is no coming at it. Nor can we take any till the dry season begins, for in the rainy months they do not carry any treasure by land, because the ways are so evil.'

This was most unhappy news. It was nearly five months still before the dry season began. To attempt with our pinnaces to capture the gold frigates coming down the Chagres river was madness, seeing that since our coming we heard they were always guarded by two galleys. To wait five months was to run great risk not only of being attacked in strength by the Spaniards, but also by sickness, which is very rife in those regions during this time.

Another council was held as soon as our strength joined us, and once more Frank heard willingly our opinions and followed his own, which was to make a lodgment in a hidden part of the coast, whence, that we might employ our leisure as well as gather provisions, we could from time to time sally out to annoy the Spaniards and satisfy ourselves. Our captain further resolved to establish magazines besides those we already had about Port Plenty, so that if one were discovered we might have others to supply us.

To this end the Pasha was brought in through the islands with great labour and much dangerous pilotage within a few bowshots of the Main, and there moored hard by a reasonable island, in such a place as even if she were discovered, which was wellnigh impossible, so shrouded was she by trees, no enemy could come at her by night or even by day without great risk of falling amongst shoals.

Our island contained some three acres of good flat ground, which our captain next began to fortify, setting out, after the best manner used in the wars, a triangular fort made of timber and earth dug from the trench about it. Harry having, as I have said, no little skill in these matters was set over this work, Culverin being quartermaster under him. The Sergeant therefore was now in great spirits, for I think the ships, and still more the pinnaces, were as little to his mind as ever. His stiff back and large form could never accommodate itself to the straight quarters and uneasy motion to which he was condemned at sea. Now, it was a real pleasure to see his gaunt figure striding once more a-land, directing the Cimaroons, of whom another band had joined us, as nicely as though he were entrenching the Emperor's own camp.

'Sea wars I will never decry again,' said he, when I went to give him joy, 'especially since Captain Drake is of that profession; yet for dignity, honour, and contemplation how can they compare to land wars? Truly, the world lost much, sir, when Captain Drake became a sailor.'