The Argosy, Vol. 75, No. 4 — page 152: what you’re looking at

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

854 Over his shoulder he wore a bandolier which held the charges for the long Spanish gun with its four-foot barrel on which he now leaned as he looked at us. *?*T would have served you right,” he said, “if I had drilled you with a ball. You scared my game.” He pointed to a great bull which had risen from the grass at the noise of our approach, and was now trotting slowly off to join the herd. “ Who are you?” “ Englishmen—sailors from the bark Lone Star wrecked a week ago, and we have just escaped from the hands of the Spaniards in San Marco.” ‘Where did you get the horses?” “Took them.” The man laughed grimly. “Come on, then. If you be spies, you will not live long to tell what you see. Follow me.”’ He led us by a crooked and narrow path through the high grass toward the northeast, directing his steps toward a clump of large trees, from which, when I looked more closely, I saw a column of white smoke rising. Several men rose at our approach and stood staring at us as we entered the grove. The carcasses of several cattle lay in the clearing, and great quantities of meat cut into narrow strips lay upon wooden grills that were built over small fires. . “Well, Jenkins,” said a grave-faced, bearded man coming forward—** who have you here? ”’ Jenkins told him, and the men crowd- ed about us, asking questions so rapidly that we had no time to answer one he- fore another was asked. “Wait a bit,” said Oakes; “ give us meat. We have eaten roots and berries and fruits till I can feel my stomach sticking to my backbone, and I long for the chance to bury my teeth in a five- pound bit o’ beef.” One of the men laughed and handed him a great chunk of half-cooked beef that he plucked from a fire. Oakes cut it in two portions and tossed one of them to me. THE ARGOSY. “Now,” he said when he had fin- ished, “ I'll tell you my yarn.” And he told them briefly our adventures. “ It sounds queer enough to be true,”’ erowled black-beard. ‘We had no storm last week, did we mates? ”’ A growl of denial rose from the men about the fire. “Your story may be true,’”’ he con- tinued, “ but, on the other hand, it may be that you have come to get news for the Spaniards.” Oakes smiled grimly and bared his arm. “* Here,” he said sourly, “is one of their love tokens. I owe them a score for that. Judge whether I am likely to get them news save that I can hand them on the point of a pike.” They crowded about us now in ear- nest, looking at the wounds tpon his arm, patting us upon the back, talking and laughing all at once. The sight of the fresh wounds had effectually laid any doubts that they might have had. “Aye,” said the suspicious one, “you shall have your chance for re- payment, and that before long. Come on, mates, let’s bear up for the island.” Tortuga is a narrow island perhaps twenty miles in length, and it had, as Oakes had told me, long been the gathering place for the freebooters of the Spanish Main. Here it was that we were, and when the first novelty of our arrival had worn off I began to note carefully the man- ner of the life and the character of the man who was the talk of Europe and the dread of the Spaniards. The island had originally been se- lected because of its fine harbor and because, being detached from the main- land, it was more easily defensible. Men of all nations except the Spanish foregathered there, for in the constant warfare that Was being waged it was Spain’s hand against the world. She allowed no trade with her sea- ports on the Main, and when a mer- chant was found as bold as old John Hawkins, later the port admiral of Plymouth, who compelled them to trade with him by force of arms, they be- Eomichooks (EO)