The Frontier, May 1926 — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

island. Moreover, there was the can- non shot which had been fired into their backs. We were fairly certain that this had been the result of an ac- cident or carelessness, but it remained to be seen whether or not Gentry would be able to explain it to the sav- ages. “If he can explain it,’ said my uncle, “there’ll be a serious how-do- you-do, and no mistake, Though one thing’s plain: we can count on these Usagos, I'll gamble, to the last man.” This was plain enough, indeed. They had sobbed like children over their dead; but, pointing to them and again at the woods, they signified, by sweep- ing their hands across their throats and holding up their fingers, that they hoped to get at least ten of the canni- bals for each one. “Vell,” said the skipper at last. “Ve can’t mofe our wounded, dot’s plain. If dey gome again, ve fight, dot’s all. So now I shtart to gif dese fellows in- structions how to use dese muskets. Jess.” Now, up to this time, Horn had said very little. But now he spoke up. “Cap'n,” said he, “I’ve a word to say, sit, by your leave.” “Vat iss it?” said the skipper. “Why,” said Horn, “here’s the way of it, I take it. I see fires down there, and they’ve got liquor. Them canni- bals, I mean. It’s my opinion they won't be hasty to leave, sir, while that’s available—not them. Anyway, which- ever way you take it, what do we gain by a-waitin’ to see which way the wind blows? Nothin’ as I can see. So I’d like to try somethin’ of my own.” “Vell, let’s hear it,” “See down there?” said Horn, point- ing. “Two fires. One is the canni- bals’, and there’s most of Gentry’s swabs around the other, I’ll gamble. Now, there ain’t nothin’ they’d stop at, so what I would do is this: lemme sneak around down there. They haven’t seen me here, for I was down behind the breastwork afore Gentry could get a look at me, I take it. They think maybe Jack plugged me this af- ternoon. Well, this here scalp’ll bear it out, and if I can make out to get aboard that ship, they’ll never get her again.” The skipper answered not a word for several seconds. “Cap'n,” said Horn, leaning for- ward in his earnestness, “I know what you're a-thinkin’ of. I know I de- setted once. Who knows better? THE DEVIL'S CALDERON, But look what I shows this very day. Now, I tell you it'll be easier than you think, if there’s on’y two or three left aboard. I'll borry the gig from Gen- try to get aboard, so’s I can dress my head, d’y’see. And them aboard— they won’t suspect me—and then—” He made a suggestive movement with his knife. Still the skipper held silence, study- ing the face of the seaman intently. “It’s the best chance we has,” Horn urged. “And, see here, sir: let Jack work his way down with me. We can take a look at the lay o’ the land to- gether, and if it ain’t right, why we can come back.” For my own part, I was convinced at once that the risk was preferable to waiting for future events. Nor had I any fear that Horn was merely seek- ing another chance to desert us. I had seen him defy Gentry and had also noted his fearlessness in the fray dur- ing the afternoon. “I hope you'll let us go, Captain,” I said. “It’s only following your own contentions; nothing risked, noth- ing gained.” “All right,” said the captain, sud- denly. “Yo go—und Gott go mitt you.” We were soon ready; and, with a hard grip of the hand all round, Horn and I departed through the tunnel. Y THIS time it was black as pitch, and we had some trou- ble in rounding the knoll and picking our way to the northeast through the trees. But there was always the glare of the fires on the beach to guide us; and within the hour we had picked our way round in a wide detour and had come down within sight of the smaller blaze to northward. Crawling forward care- fully, we saw Dumphey and three buc- caneers growling in talk about this blaze, while the cannibals were ranged round the larger fire a short distance to southward. One cannibal, who stood with his back to us, was delivering some sort of oration, with many savage gestures, and almost immediately we received an explanation of its import. “T wish the cap’n would shake a leg with them muskets,” growled one buc- caneer. “I tell you I ain’t much stom- ach for this, or that.” “Stomach?” snorted Dumphey, 41 “No, I guess not. You'd run and leave that blunt, would you? Why man, think of it—you’ll be drunk as a lord the rest of your life when we gets out of this.” “Aye—if we do,” the man returned. “What good is blunt to me if I’m dead as bilge? I tell you that shot in the back didn’t go down with these swabs, and small wonder.” “Well, ain’t the old man got ’em pacified?” cried Dumphey. “Hear there, now? He’s coming.” And we, too, heard the oarlocks in the darkness between us and the dim lights of the ship. “He'll be here with them mus- kets pretty quick, my hearty,” the pi- rate mate continued, “and then we'll see what’s what. Once they get their hands on them, and we teach ‘em how to use ’en—well, you'll be thankful you're sailm’ under a man as has backbone and something more for a head than a jellyfish, by Judas!’ “That may all be,” said another, with a bitter curse, “but I never see stich rotten luck on nary cruise I’ve sailed. But for that shot—yes, even with the rock a-tumblin’ down—why, they’d ’a’ had ’em.” “Well, I couldn’t help a hang fire, could I?” cried another man, with some truculence. “You might've etowled Dumphey. “After she hung fire?” cried the cannoneer. “Why, how’d I know she might blow up or somethin’? Not I. I touched a light to that there touch- hole, and when it didn’t go off I was done. Musta been a little wet chunk there, just enough to hold it back. And then, bang she went.” “Aw,” one of his mates broke in, with an empty, drunken laugh, “we've overhauled them words a dozen times. What’s done is done. Let’s have an- other go at the rum and leave what’s astern astern.” Barnaby now edged nearer and placed his mouth close to my ear. “Jack,” he whispered, “so soon as I see how many’s with Gentry, I’m a- goin’. If so be it my story won't wash, you'll never let ’em torture me, Jack? You'll shoot straight as straight, my lad?” My heart sank at the prospect. “Barnaby,” I whispered in return, “it’s too much to risk. Let’s give ’em a broadside and run for it.” “No, Jack,” he replied, firmly. “It’s the biggest and best chance we got. Why, with no ship we might be here years. No, boy, I’m a-goin’. And! Gomicbooksscom swiveled her,”