Adventure Magazine Cover — page 159: what you’re looking at

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

Santa Maria ——_ breast was streaked in black and red, in his nose he wore a crescent-shaped plate of beaten gold that hung down to his lip, and there were massive gold rings in his ears. A tuft of eagle’s feathers sprouted from his sleek black hair, and he was armed with a javelin which he used as a staff. He advanced calmly and without diffi- dence into their staring midst and in primi- tive Spanish announced himself for the cacigue Guanahani, called by the Spaniards Brazo Largo. He begged to be taken be- fore their captain, to whom he referred also by his Hispanicized name of Don Pedro Sangre. They conducted him aboard the flagship the Colleen, and there in the captain’s cabin the Indian cacigue was courteously made welcome by a spare gentleman of a good height, very elegant in the Spanish fashion, whose resolute face, in cast of features and deep coppery tan, might, but for the eyes of a vivid blue, have been that of a Darien Indian. Brazo Largo came to the point with a directness and economy of words to which his limited knowledge of Spanish ~ constrained him. “Usted venir con migo. Yo llevar usted mucho oro Espatiol. Caramba,” said he in deep guttural tones. Literally this may be rendered: “‘You to come with me. I take you much Spanish gold,” with the added vague expletive, “Caramba!”’ The blue eyes flashed interest. And, in the fluent Spanish acquired in less unregen- erate days, Captain Blood answered him with a laugh: “You are very opportune. Where is this Spanish gold?” “Yonder.” The cacique pointed vaguely westward. “Over land march ten days.” Blood’s face grew overcast. Remember- ing Morgan’s exploit across the isthmus, he leaped at a conclusion. “Panama?” quoth he. But the Indian shook his head, a certain impatience in his sternly wistful features. “No. -Santa Maria.” And he proceeded to explain that, there, on the river of that name, was collected all the gold mined in the mountains of the district for ultimate transmission to Panama. Now was the time when the accumulations were heaviest. Soon the gold would be removed. If Cap- tain Blood desired it—and Brazo Largo knew that there was a prodigious store—he must come at once. Carambal!l 153 Of the Indian’s sincerity and good-will toward himself Captain Blood entertained no single doubt. The bitter hatred toward Spain smoldering in the breast of all In- dians under Spanish rule, made them the instinctive allies of any enemy of Spain. Captain Blood sat on the locker under the stern windows, and looked out over the sun- kissed waters of the lagoon. ‘“‘How many men would be required?” he asked at last. “Forty ten, fifty ten, perhaps,” said Brazo Largo, from which the captain ad- duced that he meant four or five hundred. He questioned him closely as to the na- ture of the country they would have to cross, and the fortifications defending Santa Maria. Brazo Largo put everything in the most favorable light, smoothed away all difficulties, and promised not only himself to guide them but to provide bearers to con- vey their gear. And all the time, with gleaming anxious eyes, he kept repeating to Captain Blood: “Much gold. Much Spanish gold. Ca- rambal” “You are very eager that we should go, my friend,” said Blood, pondering him. “You seem to hate the Spaniard very bitterly.” “Hate!” said Brazo Largo. His lips writhed, and he made guttural noises of emphatic affirmation. ‘‘Huh! Huh!” “Well, well. I must consider.” He called the boatswain. and delivered the cacique into his care for entertainment. A council, summoned by bugle-call from the quarter-deck of the Colleen, was held as soon thereafter as those concerned were come aboard. Ly ASSEMBLED about the oak see § table in the admiral’s cabin they jeiaéel formed a motley group, truly rep- resentative of the motley host encamped ashore; Blood, at the table’s head, looking like a grandee of Spain in the somber richness of his black and silver, the long ringlets of his sable hair reaching to his collar of fine point; young Jerry Pitt, ingenuous of face and in plain gray homespun, like the West of England Puritan that he had been; Hag- thorpe, stiffly built, stern-faced, wearing showy clothes without grace, looked the simple, downright captain of fortune. Wol- verstone, herculean of build, bronzed of skin, and picturesquely untidy of person, with a COMMICLOOOKS (C@