Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 22 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

C—O CU making her preparations for sailing; and the inten- , tion of Commander Berry to cruise for a sight of the wreck, or the shore where it had struck, was received by all on board with much satisfaction. avr ws ge additional look-outs were placed at the fore and masthead, and indeed, every one aboard —_ not otherwise engaged, might have been said to be on the look-out. The calmness of the ocean, and the exceeding clearness of the atmosphere, lent for a time fair hope to their efforts. Even the princess, herself, with Uncle Benny and the two young girls Exes by her, and the ship’s lass in the hands of the old sailor, kept, perhaps, he keenest look-out of all. On the first day, however, they saw nothing but tas — troops of sea-gulls that followed in their rack. The second day they were,gnore successful. They encountered the long-boat of the Hong Kong, her bow stove, and drifting enptacoes ey sport of the wind and waves—not a sail in or about her. Alas! for the crew that had launched her, Not till the sea gives up its dead shall they ever- more answer to the numbers of their mess. ~ *% CHAPTER XVIL. THE FIRING OF THE BEACON. Ir was the greatest surprise of all to Julian. The discovery of the name of old Benny Haven upon a chest supposed to contain pirates’ gold—on a desert island in mid-ocean. While they yet pondered over it, wondering and commenting on its significance, they became sudden- ly aware of the fact, that the dense fog of which the captain had spoken, had become almost palpable. Sky and sea and rock seemed to be obliterated in the density of the mist that had come rolling in. They found it impossible to see ten feet away, and even while they looked at each other, they saw their figures assuming a vagueness of outline grotesque and almost alarming, “What Shall we do?’ asked Julian; “shall we at- tempt to take the box with us to the tent, or shall we leave it here? Can we risk opening it?” ‘‘The last is a matter for future consideration,” said the captain; ‘*‘ but we had better leave it where it is for the present, espevially if we carry out our urpose of making the rock our future place of resi- ence. ‘‘Itis safe here, at all events—too safe, Lam afraid. ‘‘My appetite warns me, as well as this impenetra- ble fog, and the necessity of your making some change of poe that we had better be getting back to the tent. Let us start at once, my lad.”’ Suiting the action to the word, Captain James led the way down through the pees and up the slope, vase ee as he went how little availed the discovery us e. For, had not the man, whose treasure it ap to be, been doomed to years of isolation there— roam “yy, mingled hope and despair, ending at last in ea In the light of this thought, the finding of the box, and its subsequent guardianship, had no interest for Captain James. o Julian, however, it was a matter of profound interest. His thoughts went ata bound across the ocean to Uncle Benny’s cabin on the terrace, and he pictured to himself the old man’s surprise and excitement when this unknown treasure from an unknown donor, perhaps, should be brought to him from over scea—discove in the manner it had been by them. They reached the tent in safety, thanks to the pi- lotage of Captain James, and after Julian had made shift to don some dry clothes, they proceeded to satisfy their appetites. : ‘“‘T hope the tidal wave has not washed away wha stores the sea serpent left us,’’ said the captain, in- cidentally. ‘*T hope not, sir,’’ responded Julian, with rather a grave face, for was the first time of the possibility. ‘*Would it move the heavy cask, do you think, sir?’’ he added. es enough,” said Captain James. “I re- member a tidal wave on the gulf coast once that took a government war steamer with its complete armament of men and from its ancho in the harbor a mile and a half in} leaving her high and dry upon the broad prairie when the wave re- ceded. But of course that wave was far more powerful than this, or at least this may have epent much of its force, as it had probably traveled thou- sands of miles before reac here.” ‘Tt was terribly swift, at events,” said Julian, with the remembrance still strong upon him. ‘No race-horse could have caught me as quick.”’ ‘‘ Certainly not,” was the response, ‘“‘for the good reason that in the deep and open ocean the velocity of the tidal wave is said to be a thousand miles an hour, though near the land it is much less.” Julian exp his astonishment. ‘*T sincerely hope, I ew that it has not taken all our rations on the ,”’ continued the ca tain, “‘ for I believe we have not many in the tent.’ ‘No, sir,” replied Julian, with a sober face; “ not more n enough for two da , 1 think, sir,”’ getting up and looking about him. “But if the worse comes to worst,”’ he added, brightening, ‘‘there are the birds, sir.” ——— “Yes,”? assented the captafn, inquisitively. ‘* But how you get them? Ourammunition was nearly exhausted in the fight. Whatever is left on the wreck is no doubt ruined—if indeed any portion of the old bulk should still be left.”’ ‘But, sir,” said Julian, the shadows these words cast over his young face vanishing away, “it would had thought |- not be necessary to use even what we have on them —anybody who has lived in the country knows how to trap birds, and—” ‘““Hark!”’ exclaimed the captain, suddenly inter- rupting, and starting to his feet, with one hand up- raised warningly, in an attitude of listening. ‘*Tt is nothing,’ he added, after a moment, with a long breath, ost a sigh. “I thought I heard a sound like the running out of a cable, as if some ship was coming toananchor. Of course it could not on.”’ . Go ‘“T was about to add, sir, that in addition to the _ birds as food, there ought to be plenty of black-fish and sea-bass off the point there, if not clams and oysters, and no boy would starve on those.” ‘* Well, well, my lad,’’ was the response, “‘ we shall make the most of what we have, no doubt, be our stay here long or short.” e rose and paced up and down thoughtfully, while Julian stepped outside to take an observation, ** Don't go far!’’ called the captain, after him. “No, sir,’’ responded Julian, *‘I should have to al- most feel my way, sir, if I did, for though the fog appears to be clearing a little, the coming night makes it fearfully dark.” , Julian walked a few paces from the tent, straining his eyes to penetrate the fog and darkness, but the leaden-like opaqueness no glance, however keen, could penetrate six feet away. And as he came to this conclusion, Julian indulged in that habit for which boys from time immemorial, have been noted, He began to whistle. Not to ‘‘keep up his courage,’ for this was no special oc- casion to call it in question, but from mere lack of thought, perhaps, and the well-known air of “The girl I left behind me,”’ rung out melodiously on the thick night air, for the on time perhaps in the history of that unknown and. For two minutes, the light-hearted lad, whom no past perils could sadden, nor future foreboding dis- turb, whistled as merrily as he had done at home in the days now so old, when he was suddenly startled by a rush of wings in the air above his head, and a large bird perched on his shoulder, ‘* Hallo, Jule!” cried a hoarse voice, with a chuckle of satisfaction easily recognized. Julian gave a shout of surprise, which brought Captain ames pony to the door of the tent. ‘** What isit?’’ he asked, as the boy came running toward him. “See, sir; see!’’ he exclaimed, excitedly, ‘*‘ Uncle Benny’s parrot.”’ ‘* Are you sure, Julian?” cried the captain, as the boy entered the tent with the bird on his shoulder. ‘ Positive, sir,”’ and addressing the parrot: “ You know me, old fellow? You know Jule?” “Ay! ah!” screamed the bird, at its very h is tops ever ng,’ declared Julian, in the world could he have got here, sir?” There was more excitement visible in the features of Captain James than Julian had ever seen there. “My lad,”’ he said, *‘ this means something! That sound that I thought I heard, so like the running out of acable! It must have been on shipboard. Our pe 3 may be at hand! Let us light the beacon at once }”’ He seized the tallow candle—a box of which had been found among the stores—and pares its flame from the wind and damp with his d, stepped out of the tent. The pile of combustibles which they had gathered ready for lighting were only a few feet away, and, in a moment, the captain was kneeling at its base. ‘‘ How fortunate,” he said, “that the tidal wave reece no higher, or we might have lost our mate- rial.”’ =. touched the combustibles with the lighted candle. The reo eg up instantly, gathering volume as it rose, and Ina minute it was towering twenty feet into the air. It dispelled the mist and vapor about, with the ce- lerity of thought,and threw a light far down the “e and over the water. e outlines of a large op evidently at anchor a ‘g oarsest. “* How short distance out, were reveal “a Heaven!’ cried the captain, fervently, as he saw it. | Forgetting everything but the relief it promised, they both swung their hats, and cheered with all the power of their lungs. A commotion was instantly visible on board the v and no doubt several night-glasses were ate g t to bear upon their figures, defined in bold relief against the bright background of fire. A mo- ment more, and a voice giving orders through a trumpet could be distinctly heard. a t was lowered, and came swiftly pulled to Julian, followed at a slower step by Captain James, ran down to the water’s edge to meet it. It touched the shore, and three or four men spru out—among them a stout fi the boy had las seen fading away on the cabin terrace the day he had left home. “Uncle Benny!” * Julian!” And they rushed into each other’s arms, efor a moment there was utter silence—save the lapping of the waves against the side of the boat anu on the shore, *“God bless you, my lad,’’ cried the old man in deep emotion. **Amen—and God bless us all! Uncle Benny,” said another voice behind, reverently. The old sailor turned on the instant. ena in the tones he had evidently recog- nize 11 fully revealed Captain James was standing near S ligt : eld aloft by one of in the light of the boat’s lantern h the men. ¥ He was holding out his hand and ery | a glad recognition to Uncle m8 while Julian looked, from one to the other, thunderstruck. : ‘‘Captain Kidd!’ exclaimed the old sailor, as he cha the extended hand in atone which made the oat’s crew start—‘* Captain Kidd!” “Yes, Uncle Benny—yes, Julian!’’ was the re- sponse; ‘“‘ Captain James Kidd!” CHAPTER XVII AND LAST. Tue story of The Sea Serpent is herein drawing to a close. Julian and Captain James returned with Uncle Benny and the boat's crew to the ship, and in a few words before reaching it, the captain explained that he had many years ago legally disciided the om- inous name of Kidd, making his Christian name of James do double duty. : He further explained that he had not made him- self known to Julian, heretofore, much as he had de- sired to do so, because of his desire to study the boy’s character without his being influenced by the knowledge of kinship. But he was now, he told Uncle Benny, fully satisfied of the lad’s thorough un- selfishness and noble heart. In which verdict the old sailor promptly coincided. They were received on the Punjab with quite an ovation, in which, as may be presumed, the rincess and her daughter, and Maggie were not the east active, nor the last to exten their warmest congratulations. J They remained on board that night without return- ing to the island—the time being more than occupied by the explanations on both sides. The discovery of the strong box bearing the name of Benny Haven, with all the incidental ticulars, the location of the rock, the finding of the skeleton, and other details, were duly made known to Uncle Benny by Julian; the old man listening with rapt at- tention till the conclusion was reached. Y “Poor Ned!” he then remarked, quietly, while a few tears rolled down his sunburnt face, ‘* Poor Ned I'd have never thought he’d ’a’ come to such an end as that! for, of course,” he declared, turning to those about him, “vou understand, my hearties, all, that it was my old messmate, Ned rusthim.”’ K Why, Uncle Benny, I would never have thought of him,” declared Julian, wonderingly. ‘And yet I had your letter to him, too, and ought to have thought. Yet how came you to know it was your old messmate without seeing what’s in the box?” ‘‘ By the token, my dear boy, that I never know’d ae, else who had a box that would leave it to me! You will see in the morning I am right.” While this conversation was taking place on deck between Uncle Benny and Julian, surrounded b Maggie, Jesso, and a group of eager listeners, includ- ing Chock-a-block, the parrot, who was perched up behind Uncle Benny, as if conscious of being the first discoverer, Captain James was giving his ver- sion of their story to the princéss, Commander Ber- ry, and some others, in the cabin. : He had learned of the commander's picking up the two men—indeed, they had been among the first to welcome him as he came a the Punjab. And he now learned also of the extended search that had been made for the island, and of the fact that the Punjab owed her present position mainly to the ac- cident of having been struck by the tidal wave, that had swept over the island. . The vessel had been driven almost wholly at its mercy for a time, and drop in shoal water off the island, where they had anchored, the rising fog and jaylialte soundings giving a decided preference for t. dayligh The next mo happily was clear, and, after breakfast, led by the commander, everybody who could be red was permitted to go ashore, A speciél party, consisting of Commander Berry, Uncle Benny, the princess, Captain James, Julian, the two girls, and a couple of men, detailed for the pur- pose, went direct to the rock, which was d - and wondered at by all. The box, under Uncle Benny’s sanction, was then opened with due solemnity. It contained a 1 quantity of gold and silver, some in coins of various nationalities, some in bars and ingots; enough, altogether, to make Uncle Ben- ny comfortable for life, and to leave his heiress, as he — e, a mend little | plum to “ae ht w su on the youn very ag ey A indeed. : e box also contained a letter, and some other papers, wrap in oil-skin, from Ned Trusthim, ex- plaining briefly his presence on the island and, of course, proving Uncle Benny’s surmise of the night before correct. Poor Ned, it appeared, had been to the coast of Africa, in furtherance of his intention of becoming a ; He led a wild kind of life, darkly hinted at in connection with the slave-trade. Had amassed this prize-money found in the box, and had set out on his return to America, to enjoy it. The ship had found at sea, and he and two of his ——— only, had reached this island ina boat—a boat that had been more in the breakers. Each of his companions, one of whom had been in earlier life a stone-mason, had successively died dur- ing the four years succeeding; and he himself at the time of the writing, for six months the sole survivor, knew he was dying. : This, with some other particulars, for his old mess- mate’s eyes alone. He had discovered, while here, as any one else (G JVO (E@)