The Frontier, May 1926 — page 31: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

the men were split up into little groups outside the cavern, talking matters over, two more slipped away into the darkness. “Eighteen,” said my uncle, when in- formed of this. “That gives them fifteen. Well, captain, I don’t sup- pose it will do to make the doubtful ones prisoners.” | “No. How could ve tell vich is vich —safe maype Johannsen und Killifer? Even Gunderson look like a t’under- cloud. If ve make de rest prissoners, vell, dot’s so many more enemies, und some might be frients und shtay, oder- wise.” This seemed reasonable; for none could be expected to look cheerful under the conditions, and it was im- possible to foretell the ultimate actions of each individual. Hence Uncle George had all hands piped up before him and made them a brief speech. “T’ll admit our chances look bad,” he said. “We can live, I am sure; but when a ship will put in here I can’t say. If worse comes to worse we may be here a year or—” He shrugged. “Our best chance,” he went on, “is to waylay them and cut them off when they come ashore for that treasure, They will come, in time, I am sure; I think Gentry’s talk of go- ing to Botany Bay was sheer bluff. And I'll say this: now we're in this hole, all those who stay with us will receive treble the shares promised them, providing we recover the ship and treasure.” “Ah, but that’s like promising the moon,” Horn spoke up. — “Granted,” returned my uncle. “It’s for you to decide.” Of the whole crew only one had the courage and manhood to state his in- tentions openly. This was Gunder- son. He rose, frowning, and said that, for his part, he intended to join Gen- try. “It ain’t like mutiny,” he cried, hoarsely, “I wouldn’t go agin my dooty, not me. Not with half a chance to live. But this is different, this is.” “Spoken like a man!” cried my uncle, “I'll not try to hold you. You have one minute to get out of gun- shot.” Then, as Gunderson wheeled and hurried out of the cavern, Uncle George looked round about, eyeing one man after another. “Any more?” he cried. “Let’s clear the air here, De- cide now, once and for all.” Not a man answered: not a man stirred. : “Then I take it you’re all to stay,” said Uncle George. “Come, now, THE DEVIL'S CALDEON, that’s not so bad. Seventeen to their seventeen. If we hang out long enough, they’re bound to try for that treasure—and then is our chance. If you've a mind to, we'll do them yet.” This seemed to buoy up the men for the time being; and on top of this Judge Pemberton revealed a side of his nature which I, for one, had never suspected. Talking to the cabin party, presumably, as we lay on the sand at on side of the fire, his slow, drawling tones had soon caught the attention of all. The man must have been aching in every joint; the climb to the plateau had all but finished him, I thought ; yet here he was, recounting droll negro stories as though safe at home in his library, till the cavern rang with shouts of laughter. It was a revelation I have never for- gotten, for I saw clearly then the vast difference there is between true brav- ery and courage born of brute strength and good physical condition. It is even greater than the difference be- tween steel and iron. It was only later, when I was standing a turn on guard, and most of the crew were snoring heavily, that I heard him sup- press a groan as he tried to adjust his soft, strained muscles to his hard bed. No desertions occurring during the night, and the men expressing nervous- ness over snakes and other animals that might be prowling about, Captain Van Tassel decided to issue pistols and cutlases once more to all hands. The powder horns, muskets, and shot, however, were retained under guard, each man having only the two rounds in his pistol. == LL during the “S3 morning the men seemed more cheer- ful than they had when first brood- ing over their situ- ation. Clay was found to patch the coffee pot; a big haul of clams was made on the nearby beach; Uncle George shot a wild hog; and another man killed a big turtle. Meantime the work on the barricade went on stead- ily so that, with logs and earth, we had erected a bullet-proof wall across the mouth of the cavern before noon ob- servation. There were no loop-holes, but it was breast high, and afforded ample protection for all but the head and shoulders when aiming. But we were still handicapped for means with which to cook our food properly; and, our first attempts at 21 moulding clay utensils proving fail- ures, Yens Eriskson, the bos’n’s mate, disappeared that afternoon. He was seen running along the beach toward the river’s mouth by Johannsen, who fired a shot at him, but missed. This reduced our party to sixteen. Then, at supper time, another accident oc- curred which had its effect in causing further gloom. Anthony Buzzel, the coxswain, having professed a knowl- edge of baking clay, fashioned a huge pot and glazed it over the fire. When it had cooled it appeared quite hard, and Buzzel stood back, surveying it with a proud smirk. Thereupon the negro cooks set out to make a sort of potage, with water, wild hog meat and ship’s biscuit; but when the mess was bubbling merrily the pot suddenly dis- integrated and all was lost. The re- maining pieces of the hog were scorched in the hurried efforts of the cooks to broil them, spitted on long sticks; and, after gnawing at them, Buzzel and Barnaby Horn seized the first opportunity, immediately after dark, to slip away. “Fourteen, and they are now twenty,” said my uncle, frowning, ‘st this keeps up, Gentry’ll have enough by tomorrow night to wipe us out any time he sees fit.” We had posted a sentry with a glass above the cavern to watch the ship, and this man had reported gigs going ashore now and again during the day, but with only a few men aboard. An- other had gone down the bay toward Kidd’s Mauley and returned, doubt- less carrying a relief for the lookouts there. And now we saw the glow of a great fire on the beach, directly ine shore from the ship. “Spending a night ashore, perhaps,” said my uncle. “But we'd best be sure what it means, eh, Captain?” Captain Van Tassel nodding, I vol- unteered to do a bit of scouting. Kill- ifer also spoke up, and, armed with muskets and pistols, we set out. The moon had not yet appeared, so we had little difficulty in working our, way through the palms, without de- tection, to a point within earshot of the buccaneers. For quite a period we could hear nothing of any consequence, as there were a round dozen in the circle around the fire, and all shouting or singing at once ina merry bedlam. A keg of brandy had been broached, and pannikins were being passed from hand to hand. Gentry sat to one side, on a log, with Jenkins beside him. All were heavily armed; discovery Gomicbooksacom