"He don't mind it," said I. "He'll think you're ill if you don't swear at him. He's had it all his life. He thinks it's the grammar you learned at school. I don't care for the Minion, Captain, but I do care for what you say before your niece. And then there's yourself! Captain, think of yourself! You are an old man, or getting to be."
"Not so old, Mr. Jones," argued the Skipper, as if there was time to talk the devil's language yet a while before the day of repentance should swoop down upon him.
"And now that's settled," said the Skipper, "why don't you damned miserable, worthless fellows go and get those weapons?"
We started for the hollow tree. We had become so accustomed to the dark passage now that we ran along, one behind the other, with our hands against the wall. I must confess that I never passed through it that I did not feel a creepy sensation and a shrinking fear that our unknown guide might again try to aid me. But it seemed now as if he appreciated the fact that we had become used to the darkness and inequalities of the tunnel, and, though I shuddered at the thought of his approach, I might have spared myself all anxiety. He did not come.
"Where's that damn Minion?" asked the Skipper again.
"Can't find him, Captain. But my advice is that you pay no attention to him. He'll come back much too soon for the rest of us."
We three descended the hill together, and when we reached the level the Bo's'n led us to the tree. It was, as he had said, full of murderous-looking weapons—knives and Malay creases, which looked as if some pirate band had hidden them there; the machete of the Spaniard side by side with the sword of Damascus. They were all somewhat rusty, but in those days we did not have the appliances for sharpening that are in use nowadays, and we were not entirely lost without them. We drew these weapons of defence one after another from their hiding places. Had we as many men as weapons, we could protect ourselves against a small army.
"Now I can get some of those mangoes and mamey apples, sir," said the gentle Bo's'n, as he took from the pile a fine, sharp knife. He disappeared with these words, and only returned when he had climbed the trees and had cut more of these welcome additions to our table than he could carry. We had found various fruits which aided us much in disposing of our very plain fare, for in tropic lands one need never starve if he will only use his eyes, stretch out his hand, and take the gifts that the good God has strewn on beach, hill, and mountain.
We carried the weapons up to the cave, adding to them some pistols which we had discovered concealed beneath them and some well-wrapped boxes of ammunition.
"Some one has hidden these here and forgotten them," said the Skipper, "or else they couldn't get back."