Latitude 19 degree

Chapter 13

"He won"t this time," I said. "Besides, the yellow girl will have to come in here." We had left the stranger on the beach purposely until the last. She watched our preparations with interest, crouching on the beach, staring at every movement of Cynthia"s, and occasionally turning a look of horror in the direction of the men. When she was sure that Cynthia was seated in the boat, and that she had no intention of returning, the girl stretched out her arms and said something which we could not understand. Without more ado I took her up from the beach and placed her beside Cynthia. A flock of parrots had settled in the mango tree, and Cynthia looked at them with interest. I pushed the boat from sh.o.r.e and jumped in. As I did so I heard from the tree the words, "d.a.m.n those Britishers!"

"How far off that sounds, Mr. Jones! Was that Solomon?"

"I think it was, undoubtedly," said I.

"It sounded up in that tree. Do you think that perhaps while we were in hiding some wild parrots have come around and learned to speak as he does?"

"It is barely possible," said I. "Now, Bo"s"n, look out there; what are you doing? We don"t want to run ash.o.r.e too soon."

"Are we putting out to sea in an open boat, Uncle?"

"Ask Jones," growled the Skipper. "He seems to be the captain of this expedition."

I saw that the old man"s feelings were hurt because I had not consulted him, but there had not been time. I felt that the party must obey my orders first and protest afterward.

"I only want to run back along the beach a mile or so," I said, "to get away from the crew. The chances are that they"ll think that we have tried to get to Cap Hatien and follow along the coast; but from what I heard at Santo Domingo of Christophe"s latest didos, I don"t believe we want to go to Cap Hatien just now."

"Why, Mr. Jones! And you let the men go! They might all have been killed!"

"Just what I was hoping for," said I. "A little more lively with those oars, Bo"s"n; it"s growing dark."

"How quiet Solomon is!" said Cynthia. Just then there came the distant words, "No fool like an old fool."

"It certainly is among those parrots there," said the Skipper.

"Yes, I think it is," said I.

"I never heard of wild birds learning to talk so soon," said Cynthia. "I don"t believe you will get any one to believe it at home."

"Neither do I," said I.

The night had come down upon us suddenly, but there was a fine line of light in the east, which betokened an early moonrise. As we looked out to sea, we could still perceive a faint glow round the wreck through the haze which overspread the water in that direction, but of other ships we saw none. We had forgotten about the fight between the pirate and the American while watching the fight on sh.o.r.e, and whatever had happened there was no one to tell us. I had hoped that the American would have sunk the pirate, and then we could have pushed out to him in our boats and gone home in one of our own bottoms, but the two vessels had vanished as completely as if they had never existed. It has seemed to me since that the privateer, as we called him, had tried to run away, and the American in chasing him had been led either very far out to sea or else round some point which hid them both from view. And now the moon, which had arisen many hours earlier, flooded the world. Its light came across the water a beam of silver. Our boat seemed always in its rays.

This worried me somewhat, as I felt that we must be silhouetted against the eastern glow, and that any one on sh.o.r.e with hostile intent could follow us to our hiding place by simply walking along the beach. We kept rather close in sh.o.r.e on this account. When we had rowed about a mile and a half, we came to a little indentation, which I thought betokened the presence of a stream or rivulet from the hills.

"What do you think of this place for a landing, Captain?" asked I.

"This isn"t my expedition," said the Skipper surlily. I wasted no words in explanation. I ordered the Bo"s"n to pull for the beach, and we were soon ash.o.r.e.

It was a pretty place, this, at which we had landed; an ideal one, I have thought since, for a modern picnic, but G.o.d forbid that any of the young women of the present day should have to go through what we had suffered, and what was to come, for the sake of finding so pleasant a picnic ground. We rowed the boat directly into the small inlet, and the Bo"s"n, the Skipper, and I hauled her up a little way on the shelving beach. It was hard to know just what was best to do--whether to prepare for a land flight or for a sea flight. We took the stores out of the boat, but laid them near it, so that we could replace them at a moment"s notice. We dared not build a fire, as the strange vessel might return, so eating some hard bread and drinking some water had to content us. We laid the blanket upon the ground and the pillow at its head. I motioned to Cynthia to take her position there. She beckoned to the girl, who laid down by her. The Skipper stretched himself at Cynthia"s feet, and the Bo"s"n, the Minion, and I removed ourselves to a spot at a little distance.

I laid awake the early part of the night, partly because I was anxious and worried, and partly because I was suffering a good deal from what I now felt sure was poison. If my simply touching those leaves had had that effect, I wondered what would be the result to the men of the Yankee"s crew. I laid on my back, looking up into the sky. The moon had set, the heavens were deep and dark, but studded with stars. The Southern Cross stood out beautiful and brilliant. I had seen it so many times when cruising in these waters, and here it was again to welcome me as an old friend. Strange how one feels a personal right to, almost ownership of, these splendid works of G.o.d when again one meets them after a long or short separation. A swelling comes up in the heart and a pride in seeing again the thing which one has known for years, but which, so sad and persistent is fate, ignores us in return, unknown atoms that we are!

It must have been much after midnight. I had dropped off into an uneasy slumber, when suddenly I was awakened by the sound of a stealthy footstep. A pebble rattled against another pebble; I raised myself upon my elbow. The stars were obscured by heavy black clouds, which had arisen after we had settled ourselves for the night. I saw nothing unusual among us. I could dimly distinguish some rec.u.mbent forms, and could trace the spot where Cynthia and the stranger had laid themselves down. The Skipper, if one could judge from the sounds, was enjoying his first sleep hugely. I have never seen a being with such a capacity for sleep. I did not disturb the old man, but turned quietly and raised myself to my feet. I looked in all directions, but there was nothing to be seen. I walked on tiptoe to where the Skipper snored and dreamed probably of his lost Yankee Blade. I could dimly see one sleeping form, and from the position in which it lay I felt sure that it was Cynthia.

The rescued girl was nowhere to be seen. I returned to my sleeping place and laid myself down again and watched, lifting my head occasionally and scanning the edge of the wood and the near hill. Finally my search was rewarded by seeing two forms come out from behind a clump of trees and stand a moment in earnest conversation. Then one of the figures vanished from sight, and the other came without noise toward the camp. As it pa.s.sed me by, I recognised the form and height of the young Hatien girl. She stepped lightly and quickly, making no noise as she went, and laid down again by Cynthia without disturbing her.

We were all awake early. When I opened my eyes I found that both Cynthia and the girl were absent. In a few moments, however, they came toward us, Cynthia fresh and smiling from her bath in the stream. One could follow this stream a hundred yards up toward the hills, and the bushes drooped, so that they made for the bather a perfect screen. The Hatien girl followed in Cynthia"s footsteps, like a devoted and faithful animal. The rest which she had obtained made her look almost handsome, and she had evidently imitated Cynthia in bathing and in arranging her hair.

Cynthia had in her hand a large bunch of stems and flowers, behind which her head was nearly hidden.

"Do I look like Birnam Wood?" she called as she came toward us.

"Throw those down, I beg of you, Miss Archer," I shouted, "if you don"t want your hands to look as mine do. It is most dangerous to pick flowers in any woods, and here----"

Cynthia continued arranging her flowers.

"You should let Lacelle show you where to get that remedy which she gathered for herself yesterday," said she.

Lacelle seemed to understand, for the moment that Cynthia called her attention to my swollen hands she ran hastily toward the bank. Again I urged, "Do throw away those flowers." Cynthia at my request flung them on the beach. As they fell, a strange metallic sound struck upon our ears.

"I have thrown something away with them," said Cynthia. "What can it be?

I have no rings or jewellery. Can it be my scissors or my thimble?" But a search of the interior of the little bag depending from her belt disclosed the fact that she was still in possession of those useful articles. I stooped over the weeds and, as well as I could, pulled the bunch apart. I searched among its leaves. Upon the very central branch--a branch of thin wood with heavy green stems jutting out from either side--I discovered the cause of the strange sound. I found a large twisted circle of some dark metal, dull in some places, in others so bright that it hurt my eyes. The circle was made by the curving of the tail of a serpent, whose body formed the ring. Where the seal is usually placed there was the head of an animal. It looked like the head of a sheep or a lamb. There were no horns, but ears were there, and laid back viciously close to the head. The eyes were formed of strange red gems, which glittered wonderfully in the morning sun. They seemed to shoot forth rays of light, and as I looked into them I fancied that they gave back an answering gleam of intelligence. There was a barbaric splendour about the trinket which attracted while it repelled. I wonder how Cynthia could have broken the stem and not have seen the ring; but she said she was trying to keep her eye on the harbour, as she was convinced that shortly some ship would heave in sight, and she wished to be the first to see it. The strange trinket had evidently been dropped by its owner, and it had fallen circling just over the tender shoot of green. This sprout had grown into a stem, and the stem into a strong plant, and in growing had carried the bauble with it into the air.

Cynthia put it jokingly over her thumb.

"You could almost get it over your hand," said the Skipper. "It would make a splendid bracelet."

"What a curious find!" I exclaimed.

"How long do you suppose it has been there?" asked Cynthia.

"I can"t say; since this stem began to sprout, anyway. This is May. Say since March, or even earlier; you see that the stem is very well grown."

"Then the person who dropped it was here, on this very spot, in March,"

said Cynthia.

"Oh, that does not follow at all," said the Skipper, who had drawn near, much interested. "The ring might have laid there a long time before the stem decided to grow through it."

"No," said I, "I don"t agree with you. I think the ring was dropped by its owner exactly over the young and tender shoot, and it has had the strength----"

"Of mind----" interpolated Cynthia.

"Or of purpose----" chimed in the Skipper.

A shriek interrupted our nonsensical parleying. The Hatienne had come shyly up to us, wondering doubtless what we had found to so interest us all. She had thrust her head forward into the circle close to Cynthia"s arm. The shriek that she gave utterance to was blood-curdling. It was between a howl and a wail. It chilled me through and through. The girl put her hand quickly to her heart, looked at each of us as if in great terror, and, turning, fled to the near woods. The Bo"s"n joined the group, and stood respectfully on the edge, waiting to ask if he should build a fire and prepare breakfast. He craned his long neck forward and looked over my shoulder at the curious bauble. When his eye lighted upon its barbaric strangeness, he drew a short, sharp breath and turned away, running in a different direction from that which the girl had taken; but before he started I heard his horrified voice mutter in distinct tones:

"THE GOAT WITHOUT HORNS!"

CHAPTER IV.

THE SKIPPER MAKES A PRAYER.

The girl"s strange behaviour did not surprise me. In the short time that she had been among us I had become quite used to her vagaries. I have spoken of her as a savage, but only as one would call any human being a savage, either black or white, who had attacked another as viciously as this girl had attacked Cynthia. The girl was not a savage in the common acceptation of the term. She was of mixed blood, a French octoroon, probably from the country districts; at least so the simple chemisette and short skirt which comprised her costume would imply. Her hair was black and wavy, her lips red, her teeth white and small. She was plump and prettily formed, and looked in reality like a girl of eighteen, though we afterward learned that she was just then in her fourteenth year.

A large tree, which had fallen across the stream up near the cliff, formed a bridge over the deep little river. To this the Hatienne flew, and, springing upon its trunk, she crossed to the other side as if she had been a rope-walker. I watched her as she fled down the beach. I did not care when she returned to us, or, indeed, whether she came back at all, but the pangs of hunger were beginning to tell upon me, and the Bo"s"n was the only one who could a.s.suage them. So I turned from contemplating the flying figure of the girl and gazed in the opposite direction. The Bo"s"n, too, was still running, as if pursued by some horrid nightmare. I watched until I saw that he had abandoned his pace, then ran slowly, then settled down into a walk, looking furtively over his shoulder the while, and finally stopped. I beckoned to him, but he shook his head. I started up the beach to meet him, but he began to run to the westward again. I returned to Cynthia.

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