Adrift on the Pacific: A Boys [sic] Story of the Sea and its Perils

CHAPTER XXVII
FRED SANDERS

Captain Bergen was so affected by the joyful awakening to the fact that his long, dismal sojourn on the lonely island in the Pacific had reached the end at last, and by the belief that now he would be carried as rapidly as wind and sail could take him to his beloved New England again, that his mind was unsettled and he behaved in a way that pained, as much as it astonished, his companion.

Inasmuch as such was the fact, Mr. Storms hoped that it would be accepted as an explanation of the strange utterances in which he had indulged, for he believed that the cupidity of the young man had already been excited, and a most unfortunate complication threatened.

“You will excuse the excitement of my friend,” said he to Sanders, “though mine is nearly as great; but he had almost settled into the belief that we were doomed to perish in this desolate spot, and the reaction caused by your joyous tidings is too much for him.”

“Oh, that’s all right!” was the cheery response. “I understand how that is. But, begging pardon, I believe you have another companion?”

Fred looked so earnestly at the figure of Inez Hawthorne, standing a short distance off, that his meaning could not be mistaken.

“It is I who should beg your pardon,” said Storms, in turn, beckoning to Inez to approach; “but we were so much interested in you that we forgot her for the time.”

While the girl was approaching the group, Captain Bergen turned about, and without a word, walked slowly away in the direction of the cabin, his manner showing still more clearly than ever that his mind was unbalanced–a fact which caused Storms great discomfort. Aside from his love for the good, honest man, he saw that he had already imperiled, and was likely still further to imperil, their great possessions by his rambling, and yet significant, talk.

The pearls still lay some distance away, buried in the sand in their canvas bags, and must be procured before leaving the island.

Since the captain had already awakened suspicion respecting the truth, the difficulty of getting the prizes away without detection was immeasurably increased, while the likelihood of his making still further disclosures remained.

Storms was fearful that this sudden movement on the part of Bergen meant something of the kind, but the situation was such that he could not interfere, and all he could do during the few minutes remaining of the trying interview, was to keep a furtive watch, so far as possible, upon the movements of the captain.

“Mr. Sanders,” said the mate, “this is Inez Hawthorne–a little girl who became a companion of ours through no fault of hers or of either of us. She has been here during the three years we have spent on the island, and though she has stood it so much better than we, she is fully as anxious to get away. Inez, this is Mr. Fred Sanders, who has come to take us off.”

The handsome young fellow doffed his hat and bowed with a certain grace and deferential regard in his manner, which led Storms, who was narrowly watching him, to suspect that he was of high birth and had moved in good circles before he had made his début in this strange part of the world. Inez possessed the same charming simplicity which had distinguished her in her earlier years, though she was more reserved, as was natural with her. She extended her hand to Sanders, who gave it a gentle pressure, while he said:

“When I saw the signal fluttering up there I suspected there were persons here who wanted help, but I never dreamed that we should find you.”

“And why not me as well as any one else?” asked Inez, with a smile. “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t have misfortune the same as other persons? If there is any such rule, I have never heard of it.”

“I know of none; but shipwreck, as a general thing–and certainly in the case of your companions–has been a great injury to them. They look emaciated and ill, and the captain is surely injured in the mind. But you–why–well, never mind.”

Fred laughed and broke down, for he really meant to say nothing that could be construed into flattery or impertinence. There was an air of goodness and refinement about the girl which compelled the respect, for the time at least, of the wild youth.

“I am so glad you have come,” said Inez, without commenting upon his last words; “for though I have been as cheerful as I could, it has been mainly on account of the captain and Mr. Storms. I saw how dejected they were, and tried to cheer them as best I could.”

“Which was very kind in you. But, thank heaven! it is all over now, and I hope we shall soon bear you away from this place, that no doubt has become so detestable in your eyes that you never want to see it again.”

“I cannot say how dreadful it is and how much I dislike it. The ship which ought to have taken us away as it brought us, was broken to pieces on the beach, and the mutineers, who thirsted for our lives, were drowned when almost in reach, as may be said, of the shore.”

Here was some more unexpected information that greatly interested Fred Sanders, who began to think he would get at all the facts by interviewing each member of the little company.

Mr. Storms heard the remark of Inez; but, while he regretted it–on the ground that it might raise some more uncomfortable suspicions–he did not care particularly, for the sad story was one that could easily be told, and upon which he was ready for cross-examination. But what more interested him at that moment was the fact that Captain Bergen just then reached the cabin, and, instead of stopping within, passed on beyond.

The conclusion of Storms was natural that he had gone to the upper part of the island to dig up the pearls; in which case, in his peculiar mental condition, he would, most likely, lose them all. This would never do, and the mate excused himself, saying:

“I am a little uneasy respecting the captain, and I will leave you two here while I look after him.”

Fred Sanders saluted him, and told the truth when he said he would forgive his departure with pleasure; with which the ragged mate went hurrying after the ragged captain.

“Won’t you step on board the proa for a little while?” asked Fred, who was rather tired of standing on the sand under the palm-trees. “As it is to be your dwelling-place for a few days, you may like to select your apartments.”

Inez said she would be glad to do so, and Fred uttered some sharp exclamation, which caused both of the dusky natives to spring to their feet and hasten to the side of the proa nearest the shore, where they waited the chance to help her aboard. Inez noticed that the islanders were muscular, athletic fellows, with such a peculiar appearance that she could not avoid staring at them for a few seconds. Each was fully six feet in height–an unusual stature among the South Sea Islanders–and their breasts, arms and legs were tattooed with all sorts of figures and representations. Since these portions of their anatomy were uncovered, the singular ornamentation was very prominent.

They had the curious tattooing on their cheeks, noses and foreheads, so that their appearance was repellent. Besides this, their teeth were black, their noses large and flat, and their mouths wider than there was any necessity for. Their heads were bare, and, indeed, were furnished by nature with all the covering they could need. The hair was very long, but frizzly, so that as it curled up about their ears and crowns, it formed an immense bushy screen, which gave their heads prodigious size. Their hands and feet were very large, and it would have been hard, in short, to discover anything in their looks that could attract a person toward them. Surveying them dispassionately, one could not help suspecting they belonged to a tribe of cannibals.

However, Inez did not show any repulsion which she might have felt, but stepping close to the proa took the extended hand, and sprang lightly aboard of the strange craft. The natives immediately withdrew, leaving the young captain, as he appeared to be, to conduct the fair visitor around the “ship,” whose dimensions did not require much time to investigate.

Fred explained that the proa was a vessel peculiar to the Indian and Central Pacific oceans, and that it could sail with great swiftness, going either forward or backward with equal readiness. It is a favorite boat used for inter-communication between hundreds of the islands of the South Seas, and the Malays employ them in a different form for their piratical expeditions. They owe their swiftness mainly to the fact that they stand so high out of the water, are very narrow, and present such a large surface to the wind.

“They are good for short voyages,” said Fred, “but I shouldn’t want to start for New York or Liverpool in one of them.”

“How long will it take us to reach the island from which you came?” asked Inez.

“If we start early to-morrow morning, with a good wind, we ought to be there at the end of two days.”

This was shorter time than he had given Mate Storms, but he was now striving to speak the truth.

“And suppose we are overtaken by one of those terrible tempests which sometimes visit this part of the world?”

“We cannot escape the risk, no matter where we are. The storm that would sink a proa might cause a seventy-four to founder, and the only way you can shun danger is to stay here all your life. I hardly think that such is your wish, Miss Inez.”

“No; I am as anxious to leave as are Mr. Storms and the captain. Indeed, I think I am more so, for I understand that they expect to wait until to-morrow morning, while if I had my wish I would start this very hour.”

“We are at the disposal of yourself and friends,” Sanders courteously responded; “but the reason for delay is that thereby we expect to be compelled to spend but a single night on the voyage, while if we started now we should have two.”

CHAPTER XXVIII
THE MATE BECOMES CAPTAIN

“Poor Jack!” murmured Abe Storms, hastening after him. “I have been fearing this very thing. He has taken the matter more to heart than I, and there has been a look in his eye in the last few weeks which showed he was not right; but I thought, when he found he was going back to his home again, he would almost instantly regain his mental equipoise.

“But it has operated the other way, and I shouldn’t wonder if he is as wild as a loon. When we get him away, dress him up, change his food, and give him a sight of a Boston vessel, he will be sure to come around; but, he has said too much already.

“I wonder what sort of a fellow that Fred Sanders is?” added Storms, whose intellect seemed to be sharpened by the same cause which overturned that of the captain. “I would be glad to trust him fully, but somehow, I can’t. While he is courteous and kind–and, no doubt, means to carry us all to the inhabited island, where we shall be able to take care of ourselves–there is something about him that awakens distrust. The fact of his having been five years, as he says, in these South Sea Islands, shows that all is not right, which is confirmed by his dislike of saying anything about his earlier history.

“The best thing in his favor is his youth, and yet,” continued Storms, thoughtfully, “that, after all, may be the worst. It would seem that he is too young to have done a great deal of evil; and yet, if he has committed many transgressions, it is a woful record for such a lad. It was too bad that the captain hinted that we have so much means, and he wouldn’t have done it had he been in his right mind; but it has produced an effect upon Sanders, as I could see by the flash of his eyes, and the apparently indifferent questions he asked afterwards.

“But we have saved our ammunition,” muttered Storms, a minute later, compressing his lips; “and I know how to use my revolver, and it is only for a short time that I shall have to maintain watch.”

While Abe Storms was talking to himself in this fashion, he had his eye on the captain, who was walking slowly toward that portion of the island where the pearls had been concealed so carefully, and there could be no doubt of his errand. He did not hear the soft footstep behind him, which was so regulated that it came up with him just as the latter paused at the all-important spot.

The captain first looked out to sea, and then behind him, catching sight, as he did so, of the smiling countenance of his mate–so far as his countenance could be seen through the wealth of beard.

“Hello! What are you doing here?” asked the captain, in a voice which showed some perplexity, if not displeasure.

“What are you doing here?” asked Storms, in turn, slapping him familiarly on the shoulder. “I suppose we came upon the same errand, as we are so soon to leave for home. The pearls are buried here, and we must carry them away with us.”

“How do you know that’s what I came for, Abe?”

“I’m only saying I suspect it’s your business. I know it’s mine.”

Captain Bergen was a little bewildered by the sharp manner in which the good-natured mate caught him up, and, while he seemed to be debating with himself what to say, Storms took his arm and led him a short distance off, and, seating him on the beach, said:

“There’s no hurry about the business, Jack, for we won’t start until to-morrow morning at daylight, so as to have as few nights on the voyage as possible, and we had better decide on the proper course for us to take.”

“That is correct,” replied the captain, assenting so quietly that his friend hoped he would remain easily manageable.

“You remember, Jack, that when we buried the pearls there, we divided them–your half is in a strong canvas bag, so packed that they won’t rub together, or make any noise; and mine are in another sack. The single pearl which belongs to Inez is also carefully covered; and now we must manage to get away with them, without letting Sanders know they are in our possession.”

“What do you want to do that for?” demanded the captain, turning fiercely upon the mate. “I like that fellow. He’s going to put me on a ship and send me back to Boston; and any one who does that does me a service worth more than all the pearls in the world. I am going to give him all mine, and I hope Inez will do the same. I shall do my best to persuade her, and if you don’t, Abe, you and I are deadly enemies, and I’ll kill you the first chance!”

Storms showed his shrewdness by the manner in which he managed the poor fellow.

“That’s all right, Jack,” he replied, assuming a look and expression of anger, as he glared upon the lunatic, well aware that he must make him afraid of him. “If it’s any fun for you to talk in that style, I’ll let you do it once, but don’t you try it again. Did I ever tell you about those sixteen persons that I killed up in New Hampshire before we started out with the Coral?”

“No!” gasped the captain, looking at him with awe.

“Well, I won’t tell you now,” said the mate, with the same frightful earnestness, “for it would make you feel too bad. If they hadn’t made me mad, I wouldn’t have killed them, and I’ll let up on you if you do not say anything of the kind again. If you do, I’ll get mad, Jack.”

“By the great horn spoon!” exclaimed the alarmed captain, “I’ll let the matter drop, if you will.”

“All right,” said the mate, relenting somewhat. “And, mind you, don’t you go to talking to Sanders about it. Don’t you tell him another thing, and never mention the word pearls.”

“I won’t–I won’t!” was the meek rejoinder of poor Captain Bergen, who had been completely cowed by the fierceness of his mate.

“I’m an awful man when my wrath is roused!” Abe Storms thought it best to add; “and it was just rising to the boiling-point when you were lucky enough to take back your foolish expression.”

“What are we going to do now?” asked the captain, apparently anxious to turn the current of conversation into a more agreeable channel.

“We’ll go back and make ready to leave on the proa. We have considerable to do before we depart. There are a number of things in the cabin that we must carry with us.”

“Yes, that’s so; I forgot that. But, Abe–don’t you get mad!–what about them?”

“Just never you mind,” replied the mate with an important wave of the hand. “I’ll attend to them.”

“All right. I was afraid you would forget ’em!”

It pained Storms to tyrannize over his superior officer in this fashion, but stern necessity compelled him to become the real captain. The intention of the mate when he first followed his friend was to dig up the pearls and give him his share, but he saw that that would never do. It would precipitate a tragedy to allow the lunatic any option in the matter. So, without any further reference to the pearls, the two rose to their feet and walked slowly back in the direction of the proa, talking on no particular subject, since the mate was desirous of diverting the mind of the captain as much as possible.

The discoveries of the next few minutes did not serve to lighten the apprehension of Storms, for when he reached the proa the two islanders seemed to be enjoying a siesta, while neither Fred Sanders nor Inez was in sight.

Suspecting what was wanted, one of the natives roused up and pointed toward the sea, jabbering some odd words, which could not be understood, but which Storms concluded were meant to indicate the direction taken by the couple.

“That’s almost the path to the spot where we were,” he thought, as he turned and walked away, holding the arm of the captain within his own.

Sure enough, they had not gone far when they caught sight of Fred and Inez sitting on the beach, just as if they were at some fashionable seaside resort in summer time, and were chattering no particular sense at all. Storms noticed that the place was such as to command a view of that where he and the captain had held their conversation, and where their precious possessions were buried.

“I wonder whether that was done on purpose?” he thought. “It may be he meant nothing, but I fear he took Inez along merely to hide the fact that he was playing the spy upon us.”

It was not pleasant to believe this, and yet the suspicion was rooted pretty firmly in the mind of the mate, who, perhaps, was becoming over-suspicious.

“Ah, how are you?” asked Sanders, with a laugh, changing his lounging to the sitting position. “I conducted Miss Inez over the proa, so as to make her acquainted with the craft, as you may say, and since that didn’t take long, we thought we would try a little stroll down here, where we could have a talk without those natives staring at us. How is your friend?” asked the young man, suddenly lowering his voice to such a sympathetic key that Storms felt guilty for the moment for ever having suspected him capable of wrong.

“I’m a little uneasy about him,” was the reply, as both glanced at the captain, who sat down beside Inez and began talking to her, “for he seems to have broken up all at once. He was such a strong man, just in the prime of vigorous manhood, that it would hardly be supposed he would give away so suddenly.”

“I think he will soon recover, for the change will be so radical, and the awakened hope so strong, that he will be sure to rally in the course of a few days.”

“I hope so,” was the response, “but he must be watched very carefully.”

CHAPTER XXIX
FAREWELL TO THE ISLAND

The weather remained enchanting. The tropical heat was tempered by the ocean breeze, which stole among the palms, and across the island, and where the crew, and those who had lived there so long, lounged in the shadow, or sauntered in the sunshine, when the orb sank low in the western sky.

It was curious that now, after the coming of the proa, when no other help was needed, the signal at the masthead, as it may be called, seemed to have acquired an unusual potency; for, on two separate occasions during the afternoon, the island was approached by vessels, who were given to understand that the parties on shore were provided for. Mate Storms, now the captain, very much doubted whether he did a wise thing in declining this proffered assistance, but the main reason for doing so was the fact that the pearls were still buried, and he knew of no way of getting them without discovery.

One of the ships was a Dutch one, from Java, and the other was British, bound for Ceylon–neither very desirable, as they would have compelled a long, roundabout voyage home. But Storms would have accepted the offer of one on account of his distrust of the young man, Fred Sanders, but for the reason given.

Captain Bergen, after the “setting back” given him by Storms, became quiet and tractable, and stayed almost entirely with Inez, for whom he showed the greatest affection. Since she was tenderly attached to him, and sympathized in his affliction, this kept the two together almost continually–an arrangement which it was plain to see was not agreeable to Fred Sanders, though he was too courteous to make any mention of it.

During the afternoon such goods as were deemed necessary were transferred to the proa, which lay at anchor in the lagoon. These were not very numerous or valuable, and consisted mostly of garments which Storms had manufactured for Inez.

When night came, after a meal had been eaten on shore close to where the proa lay, it was arranged that Sanders should sleep on board with his crew–if two men might be termed such–while the others should stay in their cabin, as was their wont.

Storms contrived this on the plea that his companion, the captain, would be more tractable. His real purpose was to gain a chance to secure the pearls unnoticed. The young man made not the slightest objection to the plan, for he had too good sense to do so; nor did his silence in that respect lull the suspicions of Storms himself.

“I wish there was not such a bright moon,” said the mate to himself, not far from midnight, “for I need all the quiet and darkness I can get; and I don’t see any use of waiting longer,” he added.

Captain Bergen had been sleeping quietly for several hours, while the silence in the apartment of Inez showed that she, too, was wrapped in slumber, and possibly dreaming of far-away scenes, of which her memory was so misty and indistinct.

As to those upon the proa, everything must necessarily be conjecture; but, in the middle of the night, with his senses on the alert, and his imagination excited, Abe Storms conjured up all sorts of fancies and suspicions. There were many times when he believed that these men, including the boyish leader, were the worst kind of pirates, who were only waiting the chance to secure the pearls, when they would either desert or treacherously slay them. But, since meditation and idleness could avail nothing, he rose from his couch upon the floor, and, making sure that his loaded revolver was in place, he stole out from among the palm trees, and began moving in the direction of the spot where his treasures lay hid.

He did this with the utmost precaution, glancing in every direction at each step, frequently pausing and changing the course he was pursuing, and, in short, doing everything he could think of to prevent detection. The full moon rode high in an almost unclouded sky, and the air was as charming as that of Italy. The solemn roar of the ocean and the irregular boom of the long, immense swells breaking against the shore and sending the thin sheets of foam sliding swiftly up the bank, were the only sounds that greeted his ears.

“That is wonderful!” exclaimed the searcher, for all at once he descried a ship, under full sail, seemingly within two hundred yards of shore. “If these parties hadn’t arrived to-day this craft wouldn’t have come within a score of miles of us.”

The ship looked like a vast bird, when with all sail set and her black hull careening to one side under the wind, she drove the foaming water away from her bows, and sped forward as if pursuing or fleeing from some enemy.

Whether the watch saw the signal of distress in the moonlight, cannot be known, but the vessel speedily passed on, and vanished in the night, while Mate Storms, recalling his thoughts, and seeing no one near him, moved directly to where he had deposited his riches such a long time before, and to which he only made an occasional visit.

He had advanced too far to retreat, whether he was seen or not, and he stooped down and began digging with his hands and sheath-knife. It was only a short distance, when he struck something, and a moment after drew up a small, strong canvas bag. Soon came another, and then a smaller one, which contained the wonderful pearl that belonged to Inez Hawthorne. They were all there, and had not been disturbed.

“Now, it only remains to keep these in my possession,” was his thought, as he straightened up and started to return. “I would give half of them if they were at home and safe in the bank–Hello!”

Perhaps the vision of the sailor was unusually keen just then, for when he paused with a start he caught sight of a shadowy figure, which seemed to glide, without any effort of its own, over the sand, and immediately disappeared among the palm trees. There was something so peculiar in its movements that Abe was chilled with awe as he stood still and watched it for the few seconds it remained in view. But there could be no doubt of its identity. It was Fred Sanders, who had been on the watch, and who must have seen the mate dig up the treasures, and knew they were now in his possession.

Storms was in anything but a comfortable frame of mind while walking thoughtfully back to the cabin, which he entered.

“What more likely than that he will steal up here in the night, believing I am asleep, and try to shoot me? Well, if he does so, he shall find me prepared for him, anyway.”

The first proceeding of the mate was to deposit the pearls contained in the three diminutive canvas sacks in a small valise, which he had carefully preserved all through the years, and which now held a few necessities that he meant to take away with him. The addition of these precious contents taxed the receptacle to its fullest capacity, but, after all, this was the best thing to do, and he believed he would be able to keep it under his eye during the comparatively short time they would be on the voyage to Wauparmur Island.

It may be said, indeed, that there was nothing else to be done, which rendered it unfortunate that he could not secure a few hours’ sleep before venturing away in the proa. But the nerves of the mate were too unstrung by his position to feel easy, and he placed himself by the opening of the cabin, with his hand upon the weapon, prepared to watch until daylight.

As might have been supposed, in spite of his uneasiness, he gradually became drowsy, and it was not long before his head sank on his breast, and he, too, was asleep. It was well he did so, for he gained the rest so necessary, and as it was, he might have slept longer had he not been awakened by outside causes.

Captain Bergen slept on, but Inez was on her feet at an early hour, and seeing that Storms was unconscious, she passed out without disturbing him, and made her way to the spring, where she always performed her morning ablutions.

It was natural that the mate, going to sleep as he did, with his mind filled with the most dismal of fancies, should find his slumbers visited by horrible phantasies. He was struggling with the figure of a man, who had the face of Fred Sanders, and they were bearing each other over an immense cliff, when his opponent got the upper hand, and, holding him suspended for the moment, began to laugh at his calamity. The laugh grew louder, until it awoke the startled sleeper, who, opening wide his eyes, saw the veritable figure of Fred Sanders before him, laughing as heartily as he had been doing in the struggle in sleep.

“Mercy! where’s the valise?” gasped the bewildered Storms, clutching at the receptacle which lay at his side. “I thought you had stolen it–”

Just then the quick-witted sailor recalled his situation, and he, too, broke into mirth, in which there was not much heartiness.

“What a curious dream I had, Sanders! I really believe I have been asleep!”

“And what is strange about that, since a full night has passed since we last met? I hope you have had a good rest, even though your awaking was not so pleasant.”

Abe Storms was excessively chagrined, for his very action, when aroused so unexpectedly, would, of itself, have turned suspicion to the satchel, which he snatched up like a startled miser. This action, united with what Captain Bergen had said, and with what the young man himself had witnessed the preceding night, could not have failed to tell him that that rusty-looking valise–about which the owner was so careful–contained a great amount of wealth in some form.

But what of it?

This was the question Storms put to himself as he sprang up and called to Inez–who immediately appeared–and began the preparation for the last meal they expected to eat upon the detested island.

Captain Bergen was quiet and thoughtful, but the others were in high spirits.

The two natives made their meal on board the proa, where they stolidly awaited the coming of the passengers, the “baggage” having been transferred the day before. And the sun was no more than fairly above the horizon when the proa started on her eventful voyage to Wauparmur Island–a voyage destined to be marked by events of which no one on board dreamed.