PAGE 1
LONGER STORIES THAN CONTAINED... Fl ve -ce .... ANY S:IVE CENT LIBRARY PUBLISHED .. ,-, Ill A DIFFEREr-tT COMr.>l.eTE EVt;RY WEEK He was confronted by a small, elfish-looking boy, who had sprung from heaven knew where, and who h eld out Captain Andrews' own razor over the fingers with which he clutched the gunnel.
PAGE 2
B VEB LD .fl Different Complete Story Every W eek Issued Weekly B y Subscripllim 1z.5 0 per year. Entered acc01 din;r to Act of Cottp-ess t'n tlze year 1qo3, t'n tlze Office of tlze Lt'brarian of Congress. Wasltington, J). c.: STRET & SMITH, 238 St., N. Y. No 9. NEW Y O RK, Feb r u ar y 2 1 1 903. P rice Five C e n t s D K c ET; O R, Sam S h ort the Bo y Sto" v a w a y Ily LAUNCE POVNTZ. CHAPTER I. THE START. 'Wh en Captain William A. Andrews sail e d from Point of Pines, Boston Harbor, in his little twelve-foot dory, the Dark Secret. he did so, in his own words, "to show what can be done with a small, well-constructed boat," and to beat the American record for deeds of apparent foolb!rtdiness, but real courage and calculation. He knew that his voyage, if successful, would be the most wonder ful ever known, and that fame and fortune wou l d follow his safe arrival at Queenstown. What he did not know was that he would have a passenger on board, of whom no one ever dreamed. Captain Andrews took his departure from Boston Harbor on a very memorable day, the eighteenth of ] une, being the day on which the British fell back from Bunker Hill, after being mowed down by the Americans on the seventeenth. It is also the anni versary of the battle of Waterloo, in which the same British got whipped again, by the great Napoleon, till the great-grandfather of the present Kaiser of Germany came to his help, and saved Wellington from being put in a French prison The Dark Secret was accompanied to the beach by at least twenty thousand people from the suburbs of Boston, accordi n g to the reporter of the New York World, who wrote up the account; but he was very far under the mark, being a native of New York, and, therefore, jealous of Boston As a matter of fact, the who l e population of Boston turned out to see Andrews sail away. and the light of the su n shone on so many pairs of spectacles that the sho re seemed covered with shining stars of light, wherever the beholder looked. A short description of the captain and his wonderful vessel will not be amiss. Sh e was a lifeboat dory .. built in B os ton, o f half inch cedar, with air compartments and a hollow keel. sh o d with two hundred pounds of iron. ln the keel were stored forty gal lons of water, which could be pumped up wh e n required for drinking purposes, and would give an ample allowance for eighty days. The captain proposed to wash only in the sea, as being more economical. For medicinal and ballasting purposes, he car ried a hundred bottles of Apollinaris water, and for food relied on Boston baked beans, canned by a peculiar process, which gives them the real Boston flavor. Fifty pounds of biscuit, eight of corned beef, twenty of canned vegetables, a ham, a can of c o n
PAGE 3
BRAVE AND BOLD. over a game of cribbage so often that the captain s\\ore he never would cross the ocean again, unless he did it alone. People thought he was crazy when they saw him actually start. Had he been in Canada, and the place of his yoyage Niagara Rapids, the police would have arres ted him; had h e tried to jump the New Yo1'k bridge, he would ha\ e been punished by the ever vigilant guardians of the great metropolis; but, being outside of Boston limits, there was no police to stop him; and promptly at six o'clock on the evening of Monday, June eighteenth, the people of Point of Pines helped the captain to launch his little vessel from the beach. and he hoisted his lateen sail and set his course for the mouth of the harbor. A hundred thousand voices shouted good cheer to him, and all the bands of Boston had come out to play "Yankee Doodle." "God Save the Queen." and other patriotic airs, as long as the Dark Secret in sight. The little vessel presented a jaunty and reckless appearance iri character with her mission as she sailed down the bay. Small as she was, sbe had been built for safety under any circumstances that might occur in the course of the voyage; decked onr se curely, with absolutely watertight hatchways, with torpedoes to be exploded for protection against the monsters of the deep, with nautical in struments and hooks. and with a perfect captain all alone in his glory. So, at least. Captain William A. Andrews thought on that lovely summer ewning. and there was no one to undecein him as yet. There he \\'as, in an absolutely unsinkable boat, as he reasoned, with two \Yatcrtight compartments that \\'ould float her under any circumstances, unless both were punctured; and h11 had plenty to eat and drink on board, according to his frugal Boston no tions, to last him across the Atlantic Ocean, if necessary. As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, and grew red and fiery, Captain Andre \\'s opened the locker in his beat, which was next to the place where he sat to steer. He had had everything arranged esp e cially for his own comfort in particular place. At ordinary. tiri1es he sat erect on a bench, and grasped the handle of the tiller; but, by simply pressing a few springs, the partition in front of his knees would give way and disclose a long. coffin sbaped space, in which the wearied mariner could stretch his legs wner1 he wished to go to sleep, with the tiller-lines fastened around his wri st, so that the gentle tugging of the rudder would enable him to steer while fast asleep, in fine weather; while, as soon as it grew rough, the pulling would awaken him to his duties. Next to his head was a small locker, which he unlocked as the last rays of the sun cast his shadow on the triangular sail of the Dark Secret. showi11g that njght was approaching. Within that locker rested his choicest treasures in all the bQat, and from it he now drew forth a short clay pipe, together with a bag of to bacco. from which he filled the bowl of his ancient friend, and proceeded to s moke, thoughtfully casting glances around him as he puffed away, t111 his thoughts burst forth in audible language. it was a peculiarity of Captain Andrews that, while extremely taciturn among other people, he had acquired a habit of talking to himself when alone on the sea. A man must have some one to 1alk to at times, and he was no exception to the rule. "Well," he said, addressing himself, as if he had been two 1)c6ple in one, "I tell you what it is, Bill, my boy, it's mighty little lc e p you'll get, if you don't take it while the weather stays fine. u ldn't have a better night than to-night, if we don't run into 11 ,one coming into the harbor. Let's see, where s the Marbfe:1 a d light)'' ,. ;"' -;:fl had not yet sunk q11itc deep enough for the lights on the lighthouses to be visible, but Captain Andrews bad sailed out of that bay too often not to recognize every landmark. There on his left, and some distance astern, lay the village of ).farblehead, the home of s0 many renowned people, while on his right, and still lying apparent almost across his path, the low. yellow lines of sand that marked the peninsula of Cape Cod stretched their warn ing to make no further southing. The Dark Secret had been sailing with a 'fresh western breeze from six o'clock till sun s et, which took place at twenty-five min utes to eight. making. with smooth water, about ten knots an hour. She was, therefore, about fifteen miles from the harbor; and the land. being low. ;ms almost out of sight, save where, as at Marblehead, it arose high and bluff!ike. The course he had taken had put him out of the way of vessels coming from along the cOa<;t, and the Dark Secret was all alone on the waters, when the captain distinctly he;rd the words: "Say. boss, air we safe lo sea yet?" The passenger on the Dark Secret had asserted himself for the first time during the voyage. CHAPTER IL THE VOICE. To say that Captain William A, Andrews was surprised is a mild term for the feelings with which he listened to this mys terious voice. He had been 100king around him, puffing and soliloquizing, when it struck on his ear, c o rning from the bow of the boat, and he gave a violent and burst forth into a nautical exclama tion, into which he had fallen as a matter of habit, crying aloud: "Douse my top lights! What in Davy Jones was that 'ere?" No answer was returned, and the captain, completely mystified, after listening intently for a repetition of the voice, put his pipe back into his mouth, and made the discovery that it had gone out. "What's that?" he cried, and his voice quavered. "If you're a man, where air you? If you're a ghost, what in the name of ] erushy Solomons do you want?" \,Vhen he had spoken, he waited for a full minute, but no answer was returned to any of his questions. Nothing was audible but the was h of the ripples past the sides of the dory, and the sighing of the breeze through the simple rigging of his little craft. The captain stood there in silence for another minute. "Bill Andrews a-talkin' in his sleep! Well, I swear, if that ain't funny!" The captain, with his usual courage, had already recovered the balance of his mind, and had reasoned himself into the belief that he must have been sleeping on his feet, by no meaus an unusual thing among sailors on watch. So he got down into the well, and opened the locker, after which he hauled out a box of cigars. inserted his jack-knife under the lid, forced it open, and be held, reposing therein the fair forms of some genuine Havana cigars, which, his experienced ey" and informed him, could not have cost him less than a hundred dollars a thousand. And there were two hundred and fifty in the box. with the mathematical habit of the sailor, the gallant captain began to cal culate aloud, saying: "Now, Bill Andrews, let's you and me start fair. Two hundred and fifty gives me and you a cigar each for a hundred and twenty five days. That's kinder mean allowances, Bill, ain't it? Yes, I agree with you. Let's double it. One after breakfast, dinner, and supper, and one to make the night watch go easier, and keep a man awake. How's that. Bill? That gives four cigars a da7 for me
PAGE 4
I BRAVE AND BOLD. 3 I and you, two apiece, Bill, for sixty days and a half. We'll throw off the half. Then, as you ain't so much used to smoki n g as me, Bill, I guess I'll smoke your share, and that'll give one man some c omfort. You can take pipes. Bill, you know." With that he took out a cigar, smelled it lovingly for a mo ment, and then struck a match and lit it, drawing in his breath with great satisfaction, evinced by a long sigh. He began smoking lazily, when suddenly something arose out o f the water, not fifty feet from the boat, m a de a great curve in the air, and tht;n dived down into the water again The night was clear, and the half moon gave enough light to the solitary mariner to make sure that the strange vis i to r was not a whale It was not thick enough through, nor large enough. Moreover, it arose w1th absolute silence, and dived down again with the same mystery, so that Andrews/for a moment, thought he must have been dreaming again. For the apparition, which had called forth from him his ejaculation, bore the head, as near as he could see, of a,n enormous serpent, and certainly the body that followed it was that of an eel, magnified to the dimensions of a whale in length The appearance of this great creature instantly aroused all of the skill and courage of the intrepid navigator. He had seen something that looked to him very like the great sea serpent which fools deny and sailors see, every now and then. If it should attack his tiny boat, the Dark Secret might be destroyed with ease. It was necessary to scare the creature away; and, with that, into the locker went Andrews, and presently fished out a small dynamite ca r tridge, with a patent fuse, capable of being burned under water. This fuse he lighted, and threw the sputtering missile into the sea. on the exact spot in which the marine monster had dived. It splashed in, and almost instantly afterward came a sharp shock, while a million tongues of flame shot through the water in all directions. The explosion of the torpedo-for such was the cartridge, in fact and intent-pr
PAGE 5
4 BRAVE AND BOLD. During this time the dory made a great deal of way, heading due all the time, and when the moon at last made its appearance again, it was only to flit from the bosom of one cloud to anoth er, seudding across the face of the heavens in a manner that showed a stiff nor'wester had set in. The captain of the Dark Secret smiled as he sa\V it, and began to soliloquize as usual: "Goo d for you, Bill Andrews I You always had the luck, didn't you? Here comes a regular winter nor'wester in the middle of summer, as if the clerk of the weather had come out a-purpose for you, to help ye over to the other side. I'm doused if it ain't midnight, or nigh it." This exclamation was maM after inspecting his watch by a glimpse of the moon. and discoYering that the hands pointed to minutes after eleven, showing that more than two hours must ha,e pa sse d in hi s co11flict with the s quall. The sea had gone clown somewhat, but the boat rocked like a wild horse, for all that; and, from the p os ition of the lights at 1Iarblehead and over toward Cape Cod, the solitary navigator calcnlaled that he must have run as much as forty or fifty miles already, thanks to the impulse of the squa ll. In all that time the Secret h ad not shipped a drop of water, but had floated lik e a cork over the heaving billows, and Andrews patted the gunnel affectionately, saying: "Dory, there ain't many can beat you for a sea boat, even if you don't show sich a pair of heels as the Volunteer. and that like. Tbere ain't brewed the storm that can sink ye, and-holy J erushy Solomons!" The exclamation was called forth by a long and dismal groan. :ind Captain Andrews felt a thrill agitate his stalwart frame, while the sweat started from every pore. He had forgotten :'lll about the voice in the excitement of the squall, but the moment a period of co111parative peace returned the mysterious voice returned with it, and this time in a more terrifying fort11 than at first. Captain Andrews listened intently, and the groaning continued, but in no place that he could locate it. Now it seemed to come from one side of the dory, now from the other-and again from the sea it elf. Presently he called out: "Where are ybu? \Vhat's the matter with you? Where in the world have you hid den ?'' lnstantly the groans ceased. and a dead si l ence followed, which lasted fot hour after hour. during which the dory ran on through a chopping sea, t1rged by a brisk gale that sent her along at a furious rate. while Andrews kept his seat by the tiller and steered her on, letting out a reef, till the little vessel seemed fairly to fly. J t was just the weath e r the Dark S ccret l oved, for she was nothin g if not a seaboat, and never boasted of extraordinary speed. On flew the boat, and on flew the scud clouds above her, driving over the face of the moon, hour after hour. The groans ceased entirely, and, iii ensibly to him se lf Andrews waxed sleepy, and prepared for the night, according to his calculations. Thrusting his legs down the narrow. coffin-like funnel, he pulled out from the bench on wh i ch he had been sitting a couple of supports, which at once let it down and converted it into a s lopin g backboard. against which he could rest back and lie there with the rudder lines in his hand, steering by instinct while fast asleep, so completely had he become accustomed to the management of a boat like this. In fact, the captain had been pretty hard al work all day, and as t night came on grew more and more sleepy, till he could oo longer hold his eyes or,ien, whw he went fast. asleey. snoring with the noise of a distant bull, and completely oblivio u s of all things but the rudder. It was just the sort of night in which he could do such a thing with comparative safety; the wind, though strong, being now per fectly steady, and the sea no longer so high as to becalm the sail. In this way the Dark Secret ran on, hour after hour, Andrews in a sort of stupor-half asleep, haif awake-but completely at rest, till, of a sudden, the gray dawn began to shine in the ea .st over the black seas, and the master o f the Dark Secret awoke, with a start, rubb ing his eyes and exclaiming: "Jerushy Solomons I what a dream for a feller to have! l must be gitting looney, or I wouldn't never dream sich things." He referred to the fact that he had dreamed of having a passenger on board the Dark Secret, who had come aboard from the sea in some wonderful manner, and who had come up to see him. the captain as a sort of compliment to him. Where this passe1igcr had come from, he did not dream; but the impress ion that he had seen him. and that he was a little imp of a b oy, dressed in rags. and looking more like an organgrinder's monkey than anything else, was so vivid th;it he caught himself looking all around the boat in search of s uch a visitor, and felt disappointed that he was not in that part of the castle. ":'.\.Iighty queer dream, that," quoth the captain Lo himself. CHAPTER lII. 'WHERE IS HE? WHERE WAS HE? The sun rose out of the ocea n at last, right in front of the bow of the Dark Secret, and Captain Andrews, completely awake now. to himself, musingly: "Well, I'm glad I come. This beats Borsting all holler I" He referred to the fact that the sea ai r was exhilarating, the sun bright, the waves tipped with gold on every side, while the s urface of the sea was covered with fishes, leaping out of the water as if in p lay and followed ove rhe ad by myriads of sea birds, who, every now and t h en, darted down into the midst of the leaping shoals, and emerged carrying away something in their talons. The Darll Secret. being so small, attracted no attention from the denizens of the deep, or. at least, excited no fear, for the fishes came swimming up alongside as boldly as if the dory had been one of their ow n kind. while at a distance of half a mile or so Andrews beheld, with a thrill of apprehension, the spouts of a school of whales. For that morning, he wa;; limited in his choice to two articles. He cou ld either eat the bread or th e cake; but, if he let them go for another day. they would be unpalatably stale. and Cap tain Andrews was an epicure in hi s way. He liked fresh bread, hated stale, and that is the reaso11' he on ly look one loaf with him besides biscuits, for he knew that the secortd loaf would only get st ale if he took it along. So he got out his bunch of keys from where they h ad been h angi11g over hi s head as he slept and unlocked "Locker No. 6.'' in which he kept the bread and h a m. The latter had been cooked before starting, and all he had to d0 wa s to cut in and make a meal. He put in his hand and drew forth the loaf when he uttered a cry of horror a1id amazement, while his hair almost stood up and stirred the woolen cap from ove r his eM8, wher(! lie had drawn it o n going to rest. He remembered put.ting that loaf into the locker the night be fore, hot from the oven, and especially baked for him along with the cake, by his cousin and friend, Mrs. l\[ehittabel T ubbs. And now son1e one, or something, had cut into that loaf, taking
PAGE 6
BRA VE AND BOLD. s away at least half thereof, while the ham had been invaded by a reckless knife, and a great .chunk cut out of the very best part down to the bone. No wonder Captain Andrews uttered a cry of amate111e11l, but this time it was by one of anger and determination, as he cried aloud: "This here ha gone jest a leetle too fur! I'll find that thing, or I'll eat my head!" He did not really mean that he would eat his own head, for that is an impossibility, but the captain meant to imply that not to find the thief who had stolen ham and bread was as im possible as the other feat. In fact, Captain William A. Andrews wa& exceedingly angry, and he had enough to make him so. He had counted on having nice, soft bread for breakfast, fairly soft bread for dinner, and not very stale bread for supper. \\'hereas, now he was deprived of all but his breakfast. and would have t') make his dinner off and beans. And, although the captain liked beans, he did not hanker after beginning them too early, when he knew he had nothing else after the ham and beef wrre gcme to last him all the v. ay to England. Therefore, the was very wroth. and shouted out, well knowing that the thief could not be far off: "I'll take the hide off of you, when I catch you, whoever you are!" And then he set to work to eat his breakfast, making his meal of bread and ham, washed down with a bottle of Apollinaris water, of which he was fond, and which SerY.('il1t of fresh water-all he could afford for such a luxury. Then he said to himself aloud. in his old way: ''Come, Bill _<\ndrc\vs, g;icss I'll treat you to a cigar tnorn ing. We might as well smoke 'em up while they last, and take the pipes as soon as there ain't no help for it." He unlocked Locker No. s this time, and fished out the box of cigars given him by his generous admirer, Mr. Rice. He re111embcred that he had taken exactly two cigars the night before, and had replaced the box, locking the door. Kow, to his amazement and almo s t fury, some one had taken, by actual count, six cigars ou t of the top row, leaving the gap plainly visible. Then, to add to the insult offered, a box of matches which had been in the locker had been taken away, and Andrews had to go to his stores to get another to light his own cigar. Therefore, there is no wonder that Captain William A. Andrews. of Point of Pines, Boston Harbor, was very angry. The ham was ba
PAGE 7
6 BRA VE AND BOLD where, and who held out Captain William A. Andrews' own razor over the fingerb with which he clutched the gunnel, saying, firmly: "Now, if 'you're a-goin' to throw me inter the sea, you don't git aboard this here hooker 1 I've got the bulge on you, cap, and don't you forgit it l" CHAPTER IV. SAM SHORT. There was no denying the truth of the observation made by the impish boy. Captain Andrews kept his razors exceedingly sharp, ;ind, no matter how small this boy might be, he could cut off the fingers of the biggest man that ever stepped in the position of vantage in which he found himself at that moment. Besides which, there was something so amazing in his aspect and manners that Andrews could only stare at him, and ejaculate: "Who air you, in Heaven's name?" This impish boy had a strange, pinched-up face, like that of a l i ttle old man, wrinkled prematurely with suffering of all kinds, with d a rk eyes-the only beauty in his face-small features, a pointed ch i n, but very white teeth. Over this strange. emaciated face hung some wild, tow-colored hair, all in a shock and tangi'e; and below it was :i thin, narrow-shoulde red frame, with bones sticking out of the rags that covered it only partially. in the form of a jacket, and what had once been knee-breeches of velveteen, now all frayed, worn, and greasy with age. There was no vestige of linen, shoes, or cap; and the boy hacl drawn back his lips from his white teeth as he snarled, angrily: "Pitch me into the sea, will yer? Food for fishes, am I? We'll see about that t I can sail this hooker as well as you, if it comes to that, Cap Andrews! No, don't ye try it, or I'll cut ye!" And he actually made a chop at the captain's hands with the razor with such a resolute and determined air that Andrews saw he would have cut him, and involuntarily let go of the gunnel, and swam away a foot or two, crying: "\\'hat do you mean. boy? Who air you?" "I'm Sam Short, the disguised prince-that's what J am," the imp said, with a queer mingling of banter and earnestness in his voice. "I come from royal blood, somewhere or other, and I want to take a trip to the place where they have kings and queens, to see if any of 'em won't make me out to be their heir apparent to the kingdom. So I took my passage aboard this 'ere hooker, cap; and now the question is, whether you'll swim back to .I\ / 1 rriky, or whether you're ready to swear that you ain't goin' to hurt me all the way to Queenstown? I've heard all the bad words you said about me, cap." "Then. where in the name of wonder were you hiding?" asked the caotam. ms wonder so much excited by the strange antics of this impish boy that he had almost forgotten to be angry. Tell me that, and I'll \ forgive you everything and take you to .'Wouldn't you like to know, cap?" was the provoking reply, as the imp held up the razor, with a taunting smile on his face, as if to warn Andrews against nearer approach. "You built the boat, and you k!'tow just where a boy of my size could hide. Find out. I ain't going to tell you, if you don't know. Now, then, are you going to cut up shines with me if you come aboard, or not? If you are, I'll just histe the sail and leave you to the sharks. I seen quite a lot when you was asleep, and one of 'em come and into the boat, as if he wanted to git a bit off yer nose, cap." As he spoke, he took hold of the rope that hoisted the 1:'.tle lateen sail to its position of vantage, and began to haul on it, vhen Andrews, seeing that, if he allowed such a thing, his chance would be gone, made a couple of rapid strokes, and seized the gunnel again. The moment he did so, the boy dropped the rope, and made an-other dab at the swimmer's fingers with the razor, saying: "No, ye don't, cap. I warn't born yesterday." And a second time Andrews had to let go to save his fingers; while the boy, as if he felt himself complete master of the situ ation, said: "Now, you might as well give in one time as another, cap. come on this v'y'ge to get to England, and I'm a-goin' to get to England, if I have to sail her alone. l\le and you ain't any too much for this 'ere hooker, and there ain't no sense in our quarrelin' with each other. I kin keep awake while you Jeep, and wicey wmcey, as they call it, and that's ever so much better than me letting' you drown, or you lettin' me drown, ain't it, cap?" He let his voice take a coaxing tone as he said the last 1yords, and Andrews, who had been doing a deal of thinking since he had been in the water, was fain to reply: "I don't suppose that I should have thrown you overboard, in any event, you little scarecrow; but I certainly shall ask some pa ssi1ig ship to take you back again as soon as possible." The imp in the boat showed his teeth again in the same snarling grin, as he replied, angrily: "The n you kin stay in the water and drown! I ain't goin' to be sent back to no one. I'm goin' to England, and no one ain't goin' to stop me. Good-by, cap. I'll histe the sail." And, with that, he made a sudden and desperate hauling in on the halyard for the little yard, and sent the sail up as far as the masthead, when Andrews again got his hand on the gunnel, and again the boy had lo drop his hauling and jump back to beat off the assault of his powerful foe. This time he seemed beside him self with rage, for he shrieked out. furiously: "Is that what ye're arter? I'll show ye, then! Look a-here!" And, with that, he held up the very dynamite cartridge which Captain Andrews had brought out of the locker and laid on the gunnel, j us-t before he took his breakfast. ''I'll throw this right at yer, and bust ye, like ye busted the sea sarpint last night," he said, his face fairly li_ vid with fear and anger. "if ye don't swear that ye won't harm me, won't say a cross word to me, and that ye'll let me s t ay aboard this here hooker till ye kin land me at some European port." The captain, for first time since this singular boy had taken possession of the Dark Secret, experienced a spasm of ,fear. He knew that the smallest boy was just as efficacious as the largest man in handling such a terrible explosive, and knew. also. that the fuse of the cartridge could be ignited with perfect ease from a common match. "Look here, boy," he said, hastily, "I promise I won't hurt you. if you will let me come aboard. I'll carry you as far as I can; and, if I see a ship going to England, that passes us, I will either put you aboard her, OP beg enough provisions from her to us across. Is that a b:irgain? You see, I only brought enough for one man, and another mouth is a serious inconvenience." He used his best lan g uage, and the boy evidently understood it, for he bobbed his head in something like a bow. and replied: "Captain William A. Andrews, is th a t a bargain-honor bright -so help you Bob-kiss the book-twenty-five cents? Hey?" "It is that-and more." repli e d Andrews. The boy put his head on one side. like a bird, and asked: "\IYhat more. Captain \Villiam A. Andrews?" "It is the word of an honest man. which never was brnkcn before, the sailor replied, gravely. "Now, look here, Sam Short, if
PAGE 8
BRA VE AND BOLD. 7 that is your name, let me come aboard that boat, and don't fool any more." "Cap, you kin come aboard," the youngster replied, in his queer tones, shrill and impish, like his looks. "'But, mind you, J take this with me. I ain't goin' to have no shenannigan with me, mind ye, and I've seed too many big men like you that never kep' their words to a boy, but told 'em lies, and then walloped 'em when they got 'em foul. I'll take this with me, and keep a match by her." He held up the dynamite cartridge as he spoke, and skipped away to the bow of the boat, where he perched himself in front of the mast, and looked around the corner of the sail, as Captain Andrews climbed on board, hoisted his canvas, and then began to dress himself as he sat at the tiller, steering. Once more the Dark Secret began to cleave the waters in the direction of Europe, and this time the breeze was so strong that the sea, though not high, was exceedingly rough and short. The sun had risen a\Jout an hour high when they made their bargain. and now, :is the little boat went up and down the great seas, they began to catch glimpses of the ocean around them. From the level of the boat the horizon commanded was less than two mile while, when the waves carried them up, they could see as much as ten by fits and starts. When this occurred, they found that they w'ere in the track of many ships, as Andrews had expected would be the case, but, on account of their own low ness in the water, could only see their upper sails The prospects, opened when they could command the top of a wave, were swallowed up when they were in the trough of the sea; and they were down there pretty often, for, every time they got between two waves, the wind would be taken right out of the little sail with a flap, and it had to depend upon the impulse al ready received to carry it to the next summit. Moreover. as the day advanced, and the wind strengthened, the sea roiic higher and higher, while the tops of the waves, instead of rolling on in smooth, green mountains, began to curl over in froth. And when this happened, and the Dark Secret happened to hit such a "comber," the b<'w or stern, or waist of the dory, as the case might be, went undt:r the froth, and let some water aboard. This happened oftenest at the bow, and it was not long before Sam Short, as he called himself, got a thorough drenching as the nose of the Dark Secret buried itself in the top of a wave, which very nearly washed the boy overboard. The water dripped off the deck almost instantly, but Sam had had enough of his place at the bow, and pretty soon came creep nig aft, to the well in which Captain Andrews was seated, saying, coaxingly: Say, boss, don't let's me and j you have any hard feelin's agin' t'ach other. I wouldn"t have come aboard your boat if I could have helped myself Ye don't want to drownd rhe, do ye?" Andrews looked at him sourly enough. The gallant captain ''as in a decided ill temper. This stowaway, small as he was, was going to be a nuisance in a .-oyage of the kind which they were entering on. .. CHAPTER V. GETTING ACQUAINTED. "Look here, my boy," said the captain, "this boat warn't built for pleasure, but for hard work. The prospect is that till we get to the other side there won't be a day but what we'll be S\\"ept by the seas, more or less, principally more. You came aboard, and you've got to take the consequences. I only wish I had never seen Thc:> boy-Andrews noticed, now that he was beside him, that he was only about three feet and a half in height-crept a little closer to the master of the Dark Secret, and said, in a low voice: 'Cap, if you knowed what brung me here, you wouldn't say that; and if I'd knowed you was goin' to feel so bad about it, I wouldn"t have come at all." The angry sailor gave him a shove with his hand, saying: "Oh, nonsense; don't pipe your eye for me, boy. I have heard boys tell pitiful stories before this. You came aboard this boat to-stop! Now, just you tell me why you did c9me aboard, if you can tell the truth for once in your life." Sam shrunk a little away from the captain, looking at him with his bright, dark eyes, in a strange sort of way, as if he had no fears for his own safety, but a good deal of anger on the sub ject. "I can tell the truth as \\"ell as any one you ever saw," he said. in a quiet way. "when) feel like it. \V"hen I want to 1:e, I lie to please myself, and no one else." The captain langhed, in spite of himself, and the boy-who had been watching him intmtly-instantly brightened up, and ex claimed: "That's right, cap. Let's me and you be friends. Come, I'll tell you my story, if you like, and all about it." The captain eyed him shrwedly, as he retnrned the query: "Which story is it you are going to tell-the lie, or the truth?" The boy smiled, for the first time since he had been on board the boat, and his smile was, like himself, impish and mocking, as he said: "Don't ax too many questions, cap. But, say! don't y<>u wanter make up yer journal, and tell all al:>out your fust day. I kin steer while you write, you know, and then I'll be some use to some one." The appeal was an artful one, for Andrews had determined when he began his voyage, to make a complete record of his progress, whenever he could find time to write. and he could not leave the helm in such a sea. But then, neither was he sure that this "puny little wretch," as he mentally called him, would be equal to the task of steering the dory, under the buffeting she was rcce1vt11g. "How do I know you can steer at all, sonny?" he asked. Sam laughed quite proudly, as he replied: "Jest you Jet m'e git aholt of that tiller, and I"ll show you whether I kin hold her nose to it or not, cap. I've set my mind 011 be in' a sailor-boy, and I've steered schooners afore this, and don "t you forgit that same, Captain William A. Andrews." "How did you get my name, and where did yo11 get aboard my boat?" was the next question asked by the captain. who was really curious to find by what me::ns the boy had managed to remain hidden so long. Sam laughed still 111ore naturally, as he replied: "That sounds nateral, cap. I runned away from home, more'n a year a.gone, to be a sailor; and I got stowed away on schooners and sloops and sharpies. and every other sort of craft; and whetr ever they found me ont, they allers walloped me, and set mi: to work till I was ready to drop, and then walloped me again, me to go home to my mammy." "And quite right, too," the sailor said. emphatically. What"s the use of a kid like you, anyway? "You'll never make a sailor.'' Sam laughed still more gleefully, as he retorted: 'That's \\"hat jest all of 'em said: and jest all of 'em didn't know the fust thing they was talkin' about. :t've made up my mind to be a sailor and to go all the world. somehow or
PAGE 9
8 BRAVE AND BOLD. other; and I warn't gain' to ship on no steamer, jest because I know what they does with the stowaways there." "And what do they do with them?" asked the captain. Sam shook his head meaningly, saying: "They don't catch me in any sich foolishness, I kin tell ye. I've heerd a boy say that they put him right into the engine4 room, with nothen to do but shovel coal the hull v'y'ge, and he didn't never see a sight of the salt water till he got to the other side." 'And I wish I had just such a place to put you in, Sammy,'' the captain observed, in his grimmest way. "Where in the world did ye hide, anyway, sonny? I searched the hull cargo, from top to bottom, and never a hide nor hair of you did I find. Where were you?" "That's tellin's, cap," was the cool reply. And then the boy added: "Now, if you want to make that journal, the sooner you git at it the better, for theres' gain' to be heavy weather afore sundown." He spoke in such a grave, matter-of-fact way, that Andrews stared at him very dryly, as he asked: "And what makes you think that, Mr. Sam? Are you any rela tion to Old Prob, that you can tell the weather ahead?" Sam shrugged his shoulders as he replied: I "Never mind how I know it. I know it. You'll have rain afore night, and a heavy sea after noon. You see if you dont. Look at them sheep, a-runnin' all over the blue field. Ain't that a sure sig n of wind?" He pointed to the clouds, which now, large, heavy and greasy l ooking at the edges, were scudding very rapidly over the sky, m eeting a second series of clouds that seemed to be above them, stretched in Jong, parallel streaks, hazy and indistinct. The captain looked up and admired the quickness of the boy's observation of natural phenomena. Sam had noticed a sign that ha d escaped Andrews' watchfulness. Heavy weather was certainly coming on, and if he wished to do any writing he might as well begin. So he handed the tiller to Sam, saying: "Keep her head east by north now, and don't keep wabbling like a co !t in his first harness." Then he drew out his note-pad, and began to write as fast as he could with the stylographic pen which he had kept for jast such service, and at which Sam gazed wit h curious eyes. In the meantime the waif of the sea steered the course of the Dark Sercret with singular success, and stared around him with great curiosity at everything in the boat, which was a perfect mine of quaint contrivances. Andrews watched him from his notes, at first, narrowly; but, when he saw that the imp understood his business. with less and less attention, tiJI he became entirely absorbed in his notes, and was writing away like a stenographer, when Sam uttered the sud den cry: "Hard down, boys. Starboard hard!" And suiting the action to the word, the imp gave a sweep of the rudder, which sent the bow of the Dark Suret flying up into the wind and she filled on the opposite tack, just as something hap pened They had been dowrl in the trough of the sea so many times that they had lost all sense of the vicinity of other vessels. As Sam uttered his cry, they rose to the top of a very high wave, and behelio almost coming down on them, as it seemed, the bows of an ocean steamer, l ooking like a floating mountain. The ship was not more than a couple of cables from them. and he was steering straight for where they had been when Sam first discovered her. Evidently her lookout had not caught sight of the tiny boat in its occasional visits to the tops of the waves, for she came very near running them down, and, as it was, the nose of the Dark Secret was within a foot of the counter of the big steamer when she finally scraped past, and they entered her comparatively smooth wake. lt was noticeable that, in a sea like that, the wake of the ship, which in calm weather would been full of waves, was smoother than the surrounding \ave,, and the fact was lucky for the Dari Seci-et, .which was tossing about like a cork in the sea, with her sail flapping wildly. The next minute they heard the bell of the engine clang, and the screw of the huge steamer ceased to r evolve, while they could see on her stern the letters Etruria. Before the passengers on board could quite get to the taffrail to gaze at this curious little craft that had come on them so sn a ro'ol hC'ad. and can steer a boat at a p i nch as well as any boy I ever saw. How old are you, by the bye?" Sam looked him in the eye. and said, quietly : "Fifteen, sir. You wouldn't think it to look at me, woul
PAGE 10
BRA VE AND BOLD. 9 The captain was staring at him in a very c y nical way, and the stare interrupted the boy. Andrews as k e d cold ly: "How old are you, then, if y our fath e r was kill e d in the war? Tha t ende d tw e nty-three years ago, boy. Ye see, I'd oughter kriow, for I was in it my se lf." Sam did not exhibit the least discomfiture, as he repli ed: "That ain't the only war w e' ve had, cap; is it? My father was killed with Cust e r, by the Indians. We \vill n o t enlarge on the story of poor little Sam, for we have no room. Suffice it tha t, after the marriage of his mother to the New Yorker, whose name was L o ng, bit by bit, all of the prop erty of poor Captain Short, Sam's father, had gone into the stomach of Mr. Long, or onto his back, after which Mrs. Long (once Mrs. Short) died of gri e f and c o nsumpti o n in a very few weeks, while Mr. Long t oo k t o drink and b eating his s t e p s on. In these occupations, with which he us e d to vary the m o notony of life he had pas s ed a year after his wife's de a th, wh e n he h a d suddenly decamped, leaving his rent unpaid and po o r little Sam, then a child of ten all alone to face the world. S i nce that day Sam had wandered from city to city, as a child-tramp, exp ose d to all kinds of h ardo;hips, and picking up a scanty living as he could, till it sudde nly occurred to him that his mother, who h a d been, as she told him, a Miss Middleton before her first marriage, and had come from Ireland, had some relat i ves living th e r e and that he would go and seek them out, while yet there was time for him to learn anything. "For you know, b o ss," said the poor b oy, in a d es olate sort o f way, '"all the scho o ling I ever had wa s before my m othe r died; and not much of that. I have forgotten most of what l did know, and the time will come when I won t kn o w n o then. if thi s goes on. That' s why I want to get to the other side of the water, si r." "And so you sh a ll. God willing," replied t/te c a p t a in. heartily; for the simple pathos of the boy s story had tou c h e d him inexpres sibly. "Bill Andrews ain t the boy to des ert a poor orphan, or make him shift for himself, and as long as th e re's a cr'ust to eat aboard the dory, me and you'll share it, S am. But talking of that, you act e d mean when you stole my c iga rs las t night, bub. I could stand the ham and the bread 'c a u se you was hungry; but no starvin critter wants to smoke cigar s ." 1 A slight flush crosse d the face of Sam Short, as he heard the g e n tle tones of r e proof, and he said hurriedly: "Cap. I own up. It was mean, and l hadn t oughter done it. But seein g it's you, I'll bring em bac k for I didn t get a chance to sm o ke one of 'em. You slep' t o o light not to haYe wakened with the smell of smoke." Andrews watche d him with new in t erest, remarking: "Sa m, you re a mighty smart b oy I mu s t say Where did you h i d e ? I h a d thi s boat built ac cordin' to my own orders; and th e re a in t a place for a cat to hid e leave aione a boy, that I a in't s'arche d." Sam c a st a shrewd, amused gla nce at him, as he replied: "And yet the re wa s all the ro o m a boy like me could want, cap; a nd never a drop of w a t e r com e in. Only it was that close, I was nigh on bein sick when you heard me groaning, last night. I thou g ht you would drop on me sure, th e n." The captain stared at him th o ughtfully for a moment, and t h e n of a su dd e n started to his feet and went to the bow of the iJoat. wh e n h e p a u s ed and p o int e d down to a certain place, asking : "'Wa s it there, you scamp?" Sam n o dded. "vV here else would it be, cap? There ain't oo ghosts nowadays, though I reckon you thought there was, when you heard me agroa nin' I tho u g ht I was goin to be sick, that time." Then the capt a in cam e back slowly and tho ughtfully, and .;aid to Sam, in a doubtful sort of way: "But how did you get in there ? I knew all the time there w a s ro o m for you; but how in thunder did vou get in? It's all nailed up on all side s o r else what would -be the use of it?' I don t see how you could have got in there, Sam." Sam only laugh e d a nd replied : 1 "I told ye I wo uldn't let out how I got there; b u t I'll tell ye what I will do with ye. To-night, after dark, I 'll hide in this boal, and I'll bet you won't be able to find me. Bet ye a cigar on it." Captain Andre ws put on a highly moral air, as he observed: "Sam, it ain't right for boys like you to bet cigars, or sm o ke 'em either. The fust gets 'em into gamblin habits. and the s econd stunts their grr th. You don't wanter be a little runt all yer life, do ye?" Sam his shoulders philosophically ob s erving : "Reckon it don't make much differ, bo ss. All the growin' I've got to do has to be don e quick, if I'm to be any sorter si ze; and if the smokin stop s th e growin', th e n all I can say is tha t I ain't sure if I stopped sm o kin' that I'd b e gin growin ; and if I ain't sure of that, what s the use of a feller givin' up his coin fort? for a good smoke is s i c h a comfort, cap. wh e n a feller ain't got nothen els e to c omfort hinr. M a ny s the tim e when I hadn t got a mouthful to eat, 1 picked up a butt i n the stre et and it kinder th e rumblin' in my in s ides to dra w in on it. Onst or twist it kinder tumbled me over, too; but th e n, that warn't no harm in them days. When a man's too sick to eat. it saves just so much, ye know." There was something in the simple way in which the boy spoke that brought the tears to the eyes of the kind-hearted sajlor, and Andrews said, hastily: "Never mind, then. You shall have your smoke as well a s the rest of it, Sam; but, Lord willin', if you and me gits safe to the other s i de, so we kin make a little money, you won t see any more starving tim e s And now boy I'll take the helm again, for it begins to look dirty over yonder." Indeed, the greasy-looking clouds that had been scudding over the face of the sky hitherto, like frightened sheep, had now paused and gathere d into a huge ma s s on one side of the heavens, while white streaks getting more and more numerous, stretc hed abo v e them, ending in a grayish bank, while the wind was going down, and the s ea rising at the same time. The swells, however, were now perfectly smooth; and the dory ros e above them like a cork, so that they had a better view than had hitherto been their portion, on the summits of the swells. Every time they went up there they commanded a distance of ten or twelve mil es, and every t i me they saw it, things looked more gloomy. The great swells had ceased to be rough, and rolled like big oily mountains of a dark gray, under a sky that was fast losing its blue d e pth, and getting covered all over with a gray h aze. The shadows of great masses of clouds, almost black in places, had begun to gloom over the water, and the wind, as it died away, sighed ominously. It did begin to look "dirty," and a vague sense of uneasiness would have communicated itself to almost any man but the intrepi d sailor who had built and was sailing the Dark Secret. C2ptain Andrews, instead of looking frightened, merely hauled down his sail and reduced it to a closely-reefed condition. Having made all snug for the expected. blow. he called to Sam to come in beside him in the stern well, and the boy, by his direc--
PAGE 11
./ 10 BRA VE AND BOLD. tions, fastened down the other hatches with their India rubber happened to him; a thing that happens but once in the lifetime waterproof strips, so that no matter how deep the boat went into of the oldest sailor-but, once happening, is never forgotten. the water, she could not be swamped; after which the two mar-He knew thal the tide which, in advancing on the shore, takes iners settled down into the stern sheets, so as to shie ld them-such a time to make itself felt, and adYances by such slow dcse l vcs from the water, lmd then waited for the storm with all grees, is not to be perceived out at sea, save when one happens the philosophy they could. to get caught in front or in rear of "the wave," as it is called. And they had not long to wait, for by the time they had made This great tidal wave, rolling round the ocean once in each t heir preparations, the wind began to rise, and witl it the sea, twenty-four hours, goes at the rate of a thousand miles :m hour, while the hundreds of sails which they had seen as they climbed theoretically; bnt this is only the rising of the water. It is to the tops of the rollers, could be seen getting smaller arid always followed, at a long distance, by a wave, which is smaller as the ships to which they belonged reduced their canvas. formed by the attraction of the particles of water for the enor-Half tu1 hour fr0 m the time they got into the well-hole, the rain mous mass of the true tidal wave, and makes up the celebrated came down in torrents, and the sea began to curl into "combers" "ninth wave," which tries hard to keep pace with its leader and of white froth. For a while they stood it well enough, and then always fails at last. it grew so high that they could see nothing except in glimpses, Then a flew ninth wave is formed in front, and so thing's go while their little sail was. becalmed every time they \Yent down on till the tide is "up," after which the phenomena are revt:rsed, into the trough bet ween two waves. as one may see any day at Coney Island. Just at that moment Sam, who was looking all around and But out in the open sea the "ninth wave" frequently travels behi11d him, uttered a cry of warning, and the captain, looking for as much as a hundred miles ahead at the same rate of speed; over hi s s houlder, perceived that a new terror, which they had and on the back of this wave the Dark Secret was now being not yet encountered, was following hard after them, i1; the shape carried forward with the speed of a railway train. o! the dreaded "ninth wave," which was rolling its gigantic head The glance outboard having satisfied the captain that his imbehind them, as if it had just found a spot where wind and tide minent peril had resulted to his advantage, he next cast his eyes could help each other instead of fighting for ascendency. in search of Sam Short, who had let down the sail in the nick It was the mo s t terrible sight they had yet seen on their voyage, of time. for the wave curled over toward them, as if determined to bury The boy was nowhere to be seen; and Andrews, in a voice of the dory; and they both knew that such a wav<', falling, wonld great alarm, cried out: vel'y likely smash their mast and sail all to pieces if they left the "Sam, Sam I little Sam-Sammy; where are you? Did you fall snil up. I overboard, my son, or are you drowned?" But what was to be done? Th<"re was the wave, racing after A voice behind him came to his ears, crying, rather faintly: them, and it could not be long before it would catch them, while "Here I am, cap; and if you don't haul me aboard, I'll have to it was as much as the life of either of the voyagers was worth to let go, I guess." get qut of his corner of vantage in the well-hole. Andrews looked around with amazement,. and saw that the Captain Andrews allowed his grim jaws to grow a little grim-heroic boy in executing his task had been struck by the sea, sail mer as 11e Sal Up and 1 1eld on to his tiller, but Sam, who had and all, and had been swept overboard; but that in going over been glancing apprehensively up at the following wave, could not he had held on to the trailing end of the halyard, which still held contain himse lf, and called out: on to the cleat at the foot of the mast; and there he was, towing ''Oh, cap, cap, what'll we do if that comes aboard?" astern, his small, pinched face looking smaller than ever, as he Get the rig smashed if I don't get down that sail," quoth hung on as hard as he could to the slender rope. Andrews, with his usual iron calmness, as if nothing disturbed To grab the rope and pull the bo)I in was the work of a moment him. to the powerful sailor, and, when he had dragged him in, he said, "And why don't ye git down the sail?" asked the boy. fervently: cause we dassen't git out of the hole," quotR the captain, philosophically. "We've jest got to grin and bear what we can't "Little Sam, you did something just then that few men would git over, this trip. Sammy, boy, and the Lord'll take keer of us have done, and saved the boat, too. If you hadn't downed that all." sail when you did we might have been smashed all open and sem to the bottom. I won't forget you for that; and we two'll stick "But the Lord won't take the sail down, will he?" asked Sam. together till we git to the other side of the water, any way." wis tfully. "If he would, now! But hold on a bit, cap; I;JI take Sam nodded quite coolly as soon as he had got his breath, and lier down myself." then took his stand on the deck by the side of the mast, looking And the next moment, before Andrews could help him, the little out over the sea like a circus rider on the back of his galloping imp had crept out from under the waterproofs, traversed the steed. They were going as fast as the horse could gallop, but the deck, all slippery as it was with seas, and in another moment hnd motion was infinitely more smooth. pulled down the little lateen sai l by teleasing the halyard, which In this way they traveled for nearly three hours. the motion had jammed in some way or other. becoming so indescribably smooth and delightful that neither of The moment he had done so, down came the great "coml.Jer" the voyagers wished it ever to stop. on the stern of the !Jm'll Secret and in another moment the dory At the end of that time. Sam. who was looking out ahead. was buried in the heart of the wave, and swept on like a cork in perceived, towering high in front of them on the sea, a ma5s of a mill-race. gray mist with something white and ghostlike gleaming foTth They came to the top of the great "comber," and ti"! wind from the mid t of it, and called out to the captain : caught them and was keeping them thete, as it rolled on at a rate "\iVhat's that. cap?" of some twenty miles an hour, the biggest wave of all irt that The captain looked around him-the boy's figure partially intersea. rupting the view-and the moment he saw the object, his face The captain smiled with satilfaction. for h1: knew what had changed to a ghastly pallor, as he ejaculated:
PAGE 12
BRA VE AND BOLD. II "Lord Heaven, Sammy, I'm afraid we're done for this time, .;onny That's a iceberg, and we're drivin' right down on it, with no steerage way on the boat, and drifting like a log. Thtrc ain't nothen we kin do to help ourselves. \Ve've just got to trust in the mercy of the Lord to two poor lone sailors." GIIAPTER VII. THE ICEBERG, AND AFTER. / The dory had arrived within two cablelengths of the berg, when Sam, who had been watching it closely, uttered a cry of joy, and pointed to its gleam:ng center. Then Andrews could see that a huge archway, as regular as ii made by the hand of architect, graced the center oi the gigantic structure, and that the boat was going through this drch. The only que stion was wh!!ther, in going through, rhc iceberg would not be so carried away by the impetus of Lhe great wave that it would be carried on with the boat, and all get wrecked together. However that might be, there was no way in which the occu pants of the dory could avert their fate; and in a very few mo ments more, with a great dash and splash, which drenched them with spray, they had shot through the archway of the iceberg and were flying away as hard as ever over a free sea. Then, looking behind, they saw lhat the mass of the ice had been so enormous that even the tidal wave had not been abk to touch it. That berg must have measured three or four mil e s long, and stood ilp several hundred feet above the water, while the archway through which they had been driven was, now they looked calmly back, twice as high as the WaS'hington Monument. "Sammy," said the captain earnestly, as he reali z ed what they had just done, "l always said this voyage would be the most wondcriul that ever was made since old C'lumbus come a-snoopin' around in the night after Am erica; but I'm doused ii l ever thought we was to have so many wonderful things happen to us in two days. Why, boy, I've--Jerusha Solomons I There he is again.Douse my top-lights Sammy, there is such a thing as a sea-sarpent I Look at the cuss now." He pointed down the length of the great "comber" as he spoke, and there they beheld, among the birds and fishes that had con g"regat'ed there for a free passage. the same enormous eel that had given the captain such a start in the night. Now that it was broad daylight, they could see the great creature, and realized that it was nothing more than an eel, magnified to a length of near a hundred feet, and rather thin in proportion to its length. It had taken up its position in a mass of floating weeds, and lay there, coiled outside of the island of brown, something like a land snake, sunning itself. Nothing seemed to be afraid of it, for they could see the Mother Carey's chicks alighting on its back and flying all over it. Pretty soon afterward Sam called the captain s attention to some other refugees on the top of the tidal wave in the shape of a number of seals, sea-lions, and walruses, who seemed to be enjoying themselves hugely in the rapid motion of the wave. "Sammy," said the captain, suddenly, "I've often wondered how it was that them seals and sea-lions could cross a big ocean like this, when they have to come to the top of the water to breathe so frequently, and swim jest like we do. It allers seemed to me that the idea they swam like the fishes warn't the cheese. Now I see how they do it. They jest waits for one of these tide-waves and gets on top like we do." Shortly after that the great "comber" on whic-h they h11d come so far, at such a pace, seemed to die away gradually into the rest of the sea, to lose its propulsive power, and at last the Dark Secret lay on a perfectly calm sea, surrounded, at distances varying from a hundred yards to several miles, with all sorts of marine animals, but with no signs of sail anywhere on the broad ocean. They had bec o me a part of the immensity of space. The first indication they had that suoh was the case came when the seals and walruses that had been taking their ride on the wave, and had been left with the flotsam and jetsam, began to swim toward the dory and examine it with great curiosity. Evidently they had no idea that it contained enemies of any sort. but wanted to find out what it was. for inside of half an hour from the time they entered the calm they were surrounded by a ring of walruses, seals and sea-lions staring at the boat with their big eyes. The sea-lions barked, the walruses growled, and the seals gave their soft, bleating cry, while the occupants of the Dark Secrfl, wi.th the prospect of a little leisure on their hands. began to make ready their supper. They had had nothing to eat since breakfast. Captain Andrews had brought with him a small alcohol lamp. just enough to boil a kettle of water, and the Boston man pro posed to have a dish of beans, in the form of soup, since he coulcl not bake them. At the same time. inasmuch as he knew the danger the boat ran, in case the walruses grew too enterprising in their curiosity, he got ready a couple of torpedoes, and told Sam to do the cooking, while he watched the enemy Thus it came to pass that in a short time the little lamp was burning merrily away, and a small copper kettle was beginning to sing, at which sights and sounds the ring of sea animal5 pressed closer and closer in ungovernable curiosity. The sight of the blue flame was one thing, and the sound of the hissing steam another. Then, as the process of cooking the beans approached perfec' tion. the added stimulus of odor combined to make the animal still more eager. Bit by bit the great walruses had approached within a yard or two, and lay there in the water, packed as close as herrings in a barrel, staring at th boat with unwinking curiosity, that was extremely disquieting. At last Captain Andrews, not without some trepidation, on account of the proximity and numbers of the animals, lighted the of a dynamite cartridge, and threw it into the midst of them. The moment it exploded, there came such a commotion that, for a few minutes. the strong-hearted sailor trembled like a leaf. as he looked at the walruses. The cartridge burst and blew open the head of a bull walrus, who appeared to have been the leader of the herd. The great beast died almost instantly, and the blood from its head stained the waves for yards around, wh i le the other walruses, snuffing it, seemed to go wild with rage and terror, as they darted to and fro-in, under, and over the \vater, making the air resound with their bt;llowings, as they trumpete<. the news to each other. Presently one of them made a dash at the Dark Secret, and tried to climb on board, with its horrid-looking tusks. It had actually got one flipper over the gunnel, and the boat was beginning to careen to one side, under the enormous weight, w hen little Sam Short, seeming to be perfectly fearless, picked the hoathook which lay by the side of th.mast. in its hooks. anti
PAGE 13
12 BRA VE AND BOLD. drove the sharp point into the walrus' eye, with such sharpness and force that the animal fell back instantly, with a roar of pain, and dashed off, shaking its head and howling in stentorian tones. A second cartridge, thrown into the midst of the more up roarious bulls, as they swam to and fro, produced another com motion, but this time it was of a different nature, for the al1imals began to get frightened and try to escape. A third cartridge completed the stampede, and within half an hour from the time they had come out of the fog, Captain Willia{ll A. Andrews and his small shipmate were enjoying a supper of Boston beans, which was made more memorable by a remark dropped by the unfortunate waif of the streets. Passing his tin plate for a third time, and asking for "some of them nice things, please, boss," Andrews asked, naturally enough: "\N'hy, did you neve r eat beans before, Sammy?'' "No, sir, please sir," rep l ied this extraordinary boy; "but I like 'em wonderfully well." "Then you shall have all you wish," the sailor returned, heartily. "Oh, to think of all the years you've missed, Sammy; not knowing Borsting Baked Beans I Have some more." CHAPTER VIII. THJ;: GROUNDSWELL. After supper the went to the cigar-box, and observed: "Sammy, when I tcok these here out for the fust time, I thought I'd give 'em up till I got to the other side, but seein' as these was give to me free, and that we've got lots of backy besides, why, we won't count this, but jest $make 'em up while they last, and then go to the pipes. Where's them si)\ you hooked last night while I was asleep? I don't want 'em back, ye understand, but I wanter see where ye hid Sammy grinned as he replied: "That'd be tellins, cap. I ain't goin' to show you where I hid or how I got in, till the end of the v'yage. But as fur the cigars, I've got one about me now, and if so be you're agreeable, I'll light up." With that he produced from the recesses of his rags one of Captain Andrews' cigars, and stuck it into his mouth with all the ease and assurance of a. veteran smoker, which he evidently was. Then the two fellow-voyagers. so strangely met, proceeded to blow clouds of blue vapor into the still and motionless air of the calm sea as the stars came out, one by one, over their heads, and were mirrored in the water. Little Sammy looked over, and when he saw the way in which the images of the stars swayed to and fro on the oily swellsthough there was not a breath of air to move the waves-asked the captain; "Say, cap, what makes the water move like the ponds at borne?" Captain Andrews looked at the boy keenly as hre we go up, up, up I Here we go down, down, down I Here we go wig-wag, wig-wag, wi,?-wag, And riever a one of us drown.' But though the danger vanished, in view of the remarkable buoyaney of the boat, the incortvenience of being tosse:d about grew greater and greater, as the angle increased. The dory was but twelve feet long, and the waves measured at least sixty on the slope, while they sent the boat up at an angle that nearly tipped out the passengers, ahead and astern, and compelled the111 to cling to the gunnel, to save themselves from going over board. It was in the midst of this strange commotion that Sam shouted! "Steamer, boss Ain't she Jest a-goin', though.'' They were on the top of a wave when he said it, and pointed out astern; but before Andrews could turn his head, down they went into the trough of the sea, and lay there for more than two minutes, the waves 11eeming to have conspired together to refuse to Ii ft them up. When at last they di
PAGE 14
BRA VE AND BOLD. but the beauty of the sight did not hinder it from being very disquieting, for the steamer was heading straight for them, and they had no light out. Captain Andrews, on his former voyage in the Nautilus, witli his brother, hb.d made the discovery that a light in a small boat will attract the fishes for miles aro11nd, and he had no desire to make the ;u:quaincance of all the sharks in the vicinity. They had not long to deliberate on the subject, for the was not a mile <1way when first discovered, and, if they could not get out of the way was sure to run over them. There being no wind, they could not 5ail out of the way, and only one thing remained, which was to bi1n1 a flashlight. Luckily for them, Andrews had brought a number of Bengal lights for just such emergencies, and in a moment more a blue flame rlashed up from the stem of the dory, as the captain touched a piece of paper to the end of his cigar. It lasted only about five seconds, when he another, but even that brief period of light had been enough to reveal them By the time the second light had sputtered away into the dark ness, they saw the Jong line of portholes make a sweep to the right, and the huge ship thundered majestically past them in safety. "Hooroar for us, cap," shouted Sammy, e:1rnltinglf. "Ain't she jest a picter, and don't I wish l was a big-bug aboard h er." Indeed, she looked exceedingly handsome in the night, against the stars, with the long line of gleaming lights at her side, and Capt:iin Andrews was abou t to acquiesce in the boy's raptures, when he h:ippened to look into the water between them and the steame r and $aw a sight that he never forgot. A shoa l of sharks, more than a hundred in number, attracted by the triple line of l ights, was following the steamer, exactly in her wake, all the great brutes swimming with their eads near the surface of the water, eying the ship hungrily, as if they waited for someihing to come to them. It was about seven or half-past seven in the even i ng, and every now and then, as the steari1er passed, the passengers of the Dork Seer.et saw things drop from a certain porthole, about amidships, from the galley. The moment any such thing happened, there was an instant rush of the sharks for the morsel, and they could be seen snapping at each other li\<:e hungry dogs. This spectacle lasted during the whole tfrpe in which the steamer was p;issing them, and such was the voracity and savagf;l mapner of the sharks that Sam Short turned pale, and said to Andrews; "Say, cap-, I'd rather have them fellers faller the steamer than faller this hooker, Ain't that so?" The captain made no anawer, save to put his hand on his lips and point out into the water beside them. The swells were a.s high as ever, and the steamer had gone out of ight behind them ahnost as soon as she became visible, but they became satisfied before long that she had not taken all the sharks with her. Every now and then, as they topped a swell, they would see the black fins showing above the top of another, and once or twice, when down in. the trough of the sea, the whole outline of a great shark appeared, hanging almost nbove them, as if he would leap aboard in an instant more. It was a still more trying position to be in than before, for the average length of the was about th<1t of the boat, while a few were even longer and they were all swimming about in an eager and h11ngry manner th<1t was decidedly disquieting. "What do you s'pose they'll asked Sam, apprehensively, as one ifeat prute put its head .out of the water close to the dory, <1nd then dived, with a flap of its tail that splashed water on the occup;mts of the dory. Andrews only shook his head and made a silent gest11re of pointing to the stars above him, which Sam understood. There was literally nothing for them to do in so small a boat but to sit still and take what came to them. At last, just as the tossing about in the calm began to make them feel sick, came a puff of wind as they rose to the top of one of the great billows, and a 111011.lent later Andrews said to Sam: "Histe away the sail, San1tny. We're going to get out of this, now." Hardly were the words out ot his mouth when they received a violent shock from beneath and another shark rose, close to the gunnel, as if it had humped its back in going under the boat, nearly throwing the occupants into the sea. In another moment Sam was hauling wildly to get the sail up. Not a bit too early, e ither, for, as he got it up, they received a blow from another shark, and saw a third rising out of the water, not ten feet from their stevn, snapping at the air savagl'iy. Then the sail filled, and tliey began to move at last, leaving the sharks far behind. When midnight came Andrews gladly resigned the helm to Sam, who steered on, without any further adventure, ti!l the sun again rose over the sea. When it did, Captain Andrews woke from a doze and asked his Frst mate, as he began to call the boy: "Well, Mr. Short, what's the news during the night? Seen anything of any ships?" "Weather's been too thick to see much of anything, cap," the boy replied. "What's that 'ere over there, I wonder? Looks like another iceberg, don t it, cap?" He pointed ahead over the bow, where the sea, npw running in short, chopping waves, wa s covered with a thin, mistlike rain, above which the dark scud-clouds drove rapidly. Through this misty appearance rose the dim white. outlines of a huge berg, and as they approached closer they beheld the same great archway through which they had passed at an earlier portion of the voyage. They had been absent from it about eighteen hours, and now the winds had driven them back to it in broad dayligl1t. As they approached it they saw that the berg was still of enormous size, measuring Cilver a mile, while the archway, which had been as high as the Washington Monument, twice over, was now still higher again, with a thin top, that threatened every minute to break the whole concern in two . The wind still drove them on, but, as they near ed the ice, they hauled in their little sheet as close as they could and skirted the berg, to see what it was like, The mist cleared away, the heavens brightened so as to give them a splendid view, and Sammy could not help an exclamation of admiration to see the wonderfol prismatic colors exhibited by the berg as it s11iled majestically on. Not for long, however, did they indulge their admiration, when it changed to something very like fear, as Sam exclaimed: "Oh, cap, what's them critters on the ice?" Captain Andrews looked a moment, and then gavo tpe helm a shove and stood off from the ice as fast a$ he could, his face turning paler than it had yet do11e in all the terror of the storm. Fo r he had on the great berg, rm;ning to and fro a s if frantic, a number of white ng-ures, which he r ecognized only too well to be polar bears. He knew that, occa$ionally, on a very large berg, these strangii visitors from the Arctic circle iOt
PAGE 15
BRA VE AND BOLD. driven to the south, and he also knew that when such a thing happ e n e d the poor brutei. were mad with hunger by the time they got to that latitude. CHAPTER IX. A TERRIBLE DANGER. The force of the wind compelled the Dark Secret to go much nearer to the berg than her ca1*!in wished. In a moderate breeze her leeway was small. When the wind blew a gale, and the sail had been reduced to its minimum, the drift of the boat was almost as great as its forward progress. By the time she had reached the end of the berg, they had drifted so close, only question was whether they should keep on and trust to luck in scraping past, or tack and stand off, while still at a distance sufficient for the maneuver. Captain Andrews, who, with all his courage, was extremely cautious, took the latter course, and as he came within some two hundred yards, put his helm about and tried to claw off again. The moment he did so, the bears, v; o had been waiting, with the sagacity peculiar to their race, for he boat to get as near as possible, uttered a simultaneous howl m chorus, and all da shed into the water together. \. Sammy, who was watching them, utte"?ed a cry in spite of his self-command, for there was a hungry ferocity about their aspect and action that told him they meant business. They had long, pointed heads, compared with which the blunt noses of the sharks for the bears appeared far more savage than the shark Their eyes sparkled with rage, and their white teeth gleamed in thelight of the sun, as ey swam desperately on, howling and yelping all the way. And, it seemed Sam, the boat had never been so slow in turning. At the best of times a boat hangs in the wind when its cour e is suddenly changed, a few seconds, but this time the inter val seemed endles,. as the l:iears swam on nearer and nearer. When at last fill\!d new tack the great brutes were in a confused clump not a hundred feet behind, swimming on with powerful stro.lrkes, their long heads half out of the water, all yelping together, t@tr tones getting more and more eager momentarily. The began the race on the new tack as the Dark Secret began to mb the waves once more, clawing her way to windward as est she might, but at a slow pace, and one all too slow for the pursuers, who were closing in so fast behind them. For that the bears were coming after them, and them alone, became only too plain in a very few minutes. It was not the boat, but the people in the boat they were hunting, and every time either of the occupants of the Dark Secret made a motion they would break out in renewed howls and roars. The pace at which they swam was also amazing, although in this they differed from each other. In front of all swam a huge bear with a yellowish-white head, and very long teeth. This brute looked the oldest of the party, and his head was as big as a young elephant's. He was so powerful in his strokes that his broad was constantly nearly out of the water, and the rest all came in his wake, strung out for many yards. This old fellow was the nearest,' and kept closing in as the dory kept increasing her distance from the berg. But she was not going her fastest yet, and all the time Captain Andrews kept a sharp lookout for the pursuers. At last they had sailed nearly half a mile away from the berg, and the leading bear was within ten yards of the stern of the boat, when Andrews put his helm l)(rnl. and the dory spun around on her heel and went off with the wind on her quarter-this time more than twice as fast as before In so doing, however, she had to sweep through the midst of the bears, and as they passed the old leader, he made a great effort, and reached the stern of the Dark S eciet with the end of his sharp muzzle, growling savagely as he did so. In that moment Sam Short, who had snatched up the boat hook, with \yhich he had once before beaten off the walrus, sent the keen point of the weapon as near the eye of the bear as he could. But the old bear was a much uglier customer to dispose of than the stupid walrus. He was as cunning as a fox, and as quick in movement as an antelope or cat. Just as Sammy thought he was going to put the bear's eye out, the cunning monster evaded the thrust with an active duck of its head, and the point slipped over the hard, snake-like head. But the very ev"ISion had fended off the attack of the bear on the boat, and, before it could be renewed, the Dark Secret had passed i\fr. Bruin, and was dashing down past the rest of them on her way to weather the extreme point of the huge berg. In another moment there was a great roar of rage, and the leading bear, wild with disappointment, had turned and was swimming in a series of leaps through the water, sending half of its body out of the sea at every effort, and coming right up with the boat as if it had been at anchor. Such enormous ex ertions could not have lasted more '1an a dozen bounds, but in that dozen they accomplished their object, as a huge paw was laid on the stern of the dory, close to the back of Captain William A. Andrews, as he sat at the helm. The next moment Sam Short made another jab at the bear with the boat-hook, but the brute caught the iron point in its mouth and began to shake its head. The weapon would been wrenched out of Sam's hand, but for the fact that the bear had only caught the very tip of the iron, so that the boy managed to wrench it out from between the clinched teeth. Then Sam gave another jab, this time with better success. The bear, despising its small antagontst, having one paw on the stern of the boat, and seeing Captain Andrews close to its nose, made another effort to climb aboard, and in the action lowered its head. The next moment Sam drove the boat-hook into the bear's eye, and there was a loud howl of rage and pain as the ai1imal instinctively let go its hold and applied its paw to the eye. Then the dory sped on at a pace so rapid that it was soon out of range of the big old bear, and rapidly approaching the ice, through the midst of the scattered heads of the others. They had all stopped to wait for it, and were swimming slowly to and fro. howling to "!ach other, and watching the dory with greedy eyes as Andrews steered her, taking every advantage of the wind that he could. They had passed all but the last group at last, when Andrews who had done nothing but steer, called out warnipgly to Sam: "it's no use, Sam. Here comes a whole family. This is the last of us, or I'm very much mistaken." Right in front of the dory five bears, all very large, had gathered themselves into a line, as if determined to prevent the boat from passing without paying toll. Hitherto Sam had been fighting over Andrew's head, but now he had to beat off assailants from the bows of the boat instead of the stern. Steadily swept the dory on, and nearer and nearer grew the hungry monsters, while the small boy, like a hero as he was, poised the boat-hook m front, and prepared to do the best he
PAGE 16
BRA VE AND BOLD cbuld in the boat which had rescued him from starvation. In another moment they sailed right clown on the middle bear of the lot, Andrews th, e boat as straight as possible, and aiming to strike the brute 011 the nose and scare it away. Suddenly Sammy cried out: "Give u? a torpedo, cap; that'll fix 'em best." The captain made :i dive into the cupboard and sent the boy a torpedo; bttl there was no match to fire the fuse, and if there had been, the weather was too wet to have lighted it. Desperate at the danger, Sam caught up the boat-hook again, hardly daring to hope for success when he saw the enormous size of the bear, on which the boat was dashing at full speed. The great brute had stopped in the water, half erect, every now and then leaping partially up, cla>Ving the air. The other animals were swimming toward the common center. but slowly and warily. as 1f they realized the danger of overshooting the mark. At last they were right on top of the bear. in the water, and ,:;am made a Jab al the floating head. The bear, with a quick motion, caught the point in its teeth and began to shake it This time it had secured a good hold on the boat-hook, and shook to such good purpose, with its enormous trength. that Sam was pitched about at the other end of the staff, like a baby. .But the boy, in his despair. \\ uld not let go. Thus it that, in another minute, Sam. still clinging lo the end of the boat-hock, was th!own high in the air and swept away from the boat, while the other bear seeing him going. made a great rush for him. all together, roaring saYagely. That movement was the salvation of the Dark Secret. The leading bear, abandoning its first aim for the bow of the ooat (which. once seized, all would have been o\'er). tossed the ooat-hook to one side by a powerful exertion of its head, with the weight of the body still hanging at the end of the great lever age. and tried to grab Sammy. To do so it had to let go the boat-hook. expecting the boy to iall into its mouth, but in letting go. the bear abandoned a sure prey. Had if held on, Sam would have held on too, for his blind tenacity was such at the moment that he was hardly sane on the .,ubject. As it was, he fell irtto the sea, j nst beside the quarter of the dory, and Captain Andrews. leaning over as he passed, caught hold of the boy's ragged collar and brought him on board beside him, as the other bears passed by the dory and set up a howl of tremendous rage as they saw their dinner vanishing. In another m9ment they had passed the ena of the berg, and were rushing away to the south at the rate of ten krots an hour, so that even the fast swimming Arctic bears could not catch the do:-y. Once more the self-sacrifice of the waif had saved the Dark Secret, and Captain Andrews remarked, as they ran on: "Sarni-Hy. I begin to think you're a mascot, arter all. You bring luck." CHAPTER X. THE LOST ISLAND. The 't:alm weather lasted for several hours, durirtg which Cap tain Andrews managed to secure an observation of the sun. To his surprise and joy, he found that he had been driven on the very way he wished to go during the storm, but had come ..,. a pnrt of the Atlantic seldom visited by sailing vessels or s, and out of the general iine of traffic. The dory sailed on in the aiternoon, when a very nice breeze sprung up from the northwest, and just about two hours after noon, all of a sudden Sam called out: "Land-ho!'' Captain Andrews at the time was dozing o\er the tiller. being very sleepy <\fter his 'two nights' watchfulness, but Sam had slept a good deal more than his chief, and consequently was wide awake after the first ho11rs of morning. His cry waked Andrews, who rubbed his eyes and stared al him in a half-stupid. half-angry fashion, ejaculating: ''What are you talking about, you young fool? \Vho ever heard of land in this part of the Atlantic Ocean? \.Vhy, there ain't nothen nearer than the Azores. Sammy. lt's a cloud you\ e been seein', hoy." "'fain't no cloud,'' rctun{ed Sam. obstinately. "Look for yourself, and see if that ain't land ahead of us, cap." The capt;!in. fully awake now, took the glass the hoy handed him and insp e cted the place he pointed out. As Sammy had said, it looked very like land a little distance ahead, and on the starboard bow. How far off, no one could tell but at first it did not seem more than a few miles. But was it land or only a cloud? That was a question which puzzled Captain Andrews more than he liked to admit to the boy. He knew th:it clouds very often looked like land for a long time, and inasmuch as the chart showed nothing but open ocean, in that part of the Atlantic, he agreed with it at first, and thought that Sammy must ha\e been mistaken. The only islands in the ocean. on the course on which he was steering, were the Azores, and he knew well that he could not be within a thousand miles of them as yet. But as plain as daylight, right in front of him, was something that was too solid for a cloud, and that looked amazingly like an island. of no very great size, but still an island. \.Vhen they first sighted it, it seemed about five miles off, and round in form like a low bank of cloud. That was what Sam had thought it at first. ;ind it was not till he had gazed t it for some time that he had made his cry and waked up the captain. Now the Dark Seaet was sailing rapidly toward this islwd or cloud, which ever it might be, over a comparatively smooth sea, with her lateen sail spread as far as it would go. By the time they had gone a few minutes in the direction of this cloud, Captain Andrews began to rub his eyes and mutter to himself all sorts of exclamations about "land in such a place." For surely it was land, and after they had sailed an hour, toward it, they could see that it was a small, rocky islet, surrounded with a level white beach of s and, planted with trees, and of great beauty, set, as it was, in such a lonely landscape of water. Over this solitary isle sea-birds were hovering, and even Sam could not help the question: "\Vhy didn't nobody never find this here island out afore, cap?" The captain rubbed his eyes again, and took glance at the sun, as he replied: ''Sammy, J nin't so sure but what we're both dreamin', as it is. It don't seem possible that an island should have been lying here, in the very middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and no one never hear nothen of it all these years. I think we must both be asleep." ''And how are you goin' to settle it, cap?" asked the boy. ''There ain't but one way, Sammy, and that is to go ashore on 'his here island, and stay there for a night. When I've took my
PAGE 17
16 BRA VE AND BOLD. observations from the dry land, and made out just where we are, I 'll feel a sight easier." So saying, he steered the boat straight on for the mysterious isle, and j u5t about six o'clock in the afternoon ran t h e keel of th e Dark Secret up on a beach of soft white sand, at th e foot of a b a nk of brown earth and rock, where trees and shrubs were clinging in every crevice, while above them they could hear the so ngs of birds, which sounded just like canaries in cages, and caused Sam to exclaim, in tones of wonder: "Cap, cap, I say cap! If there ain't a lot of birds a-flyin' about, for all thl.\ world like thP.y was born here and brought up. Lordy how they do sing." Indeed, the more they explored, the greater seemed the wonder th a t such an island should have been lying in the Atlantic .Ocean, less th an a thousand miles from the coast of America, and no one know it till this small boat blundered on it, after a storm. However, the captain saw that it was neces sa ry, if he wanted to find the place again at any time, to ascertain its latitude and lon gitude, and for that reason they dragge d the boat upon the beach, threw out the cable, and tied it fast to the trunk of a huge oak tree, which hung out from the top of a low cliff, with its gnarled roots clasping a huge rock, as if to secure itself from being blown out to sea. The total expanse of the i s land, as they found after a close examination, was a thousand p a c es in l ength, by five hundred in breadth at the broadest part, which was the center, but taper ing to a point at one end, and strongly resembling in outline a stranded whale .. The highest part of the island was only about 'ten feet above the sea, and there were marks that showed th a t in high tides the waves washed up to the very edge of the grass, on the low cliff-top. But for all it was so small and lonely, the interi o r was a miniature fairyland, full of trees and flow e rs, with wild vines, ;Ill loaded with grapes, slowly ripening; with swarms of canary birds in every tree, fluttering about, and hardly stirring when the strangers carpt> close to them. "It's plain no one ain't never harmed them, S a mmy,'' the rnp tain remarked, "and you and me boy, ain't goin' to set the example. They seem to have the island all to themselves, them and the turtles and gulls. I don't believe no human being ever--Jerushy Solomons!" The last word s \Yere extorted from him by suddenly coming on the bleaching bones ,of a human skeleton, right in the center of. the low island, surroun<;Jed by the evidence of a former oc cupation. The skeleton was that of a tall man, almost a giant in stature, a nd the spread of the shoulder bones and ribs showed that he must have been very powerful in build. Around the bleaching bones, which had evidently been the re for a long time, were various evidences of human occupation. There was the blackened hearth of what had been a fireplace at one time, the remnants of charcoal surviving the storms. A few rags, completely decayed clung to the bones in place,s, and a knife, turned to rust, so that it could not longer be picked up, lay beside the body, in the blackened ashes of the fire. The body lay under an oak tree, which had been draped in a very pret ty fashion by a vine, from which the half-ripened grapes hung in red clust e rs. At the foot of the tree, and half hidd e n by the vine, was a ; mall s t o ne hut, the roof fallen to decay, showing that it h a d J o ng since been abandoned, while the interior contained nothing but a rude stone seat and a sort <9f in the corner, formed by rolling four log s together and filling the in side \vith deaa leaves. These dead leaves had decayed long before and turned into black mold, from which plants had sprouted, so that what was once a human couch was now a bed of scarlet geraniums and myrtles, with which the island see med to abound. Altogether, there was that about the vegetation of the island which made it look as if p e rp e tual summer reigned there, and Sammy was cu, iot1s enough to ask Captain Andrews about it, wh e n the sailor, pointing to the sea, observed: "It's all on account of that, Sammy. Didn't ye notice how warm the water was a-gettin' when we came toward it this morning? We're ri ght plum in the middle of the Gulf Stream, now, and this h e re man what died here must have been a sailor from some ship Mebbe we kin find out from suthin he may have left. They hunted all over th e hut and at iast found the remains of a sailor's chest; the iron st r aps, that used to be around it, all rusted into nothingness, while the wooden part had rotted into mold. In the midst of this they found the remains of an old Bible, on the title of which they read, through the stains of age, the l etters, "MDCXL VIII." "Why, Sammy, my boy," iaid the captain, wonderingly, "that sailor must have had quite an old book about him. That means 1648, and that is an awful l ong time ago, Sammy." "Mebbe the m an got left here/all that time, cap," obse rv ed Sam. ''Sho !" returned the other, impatient ly ; "that can't be possible. It don t seem that a huma n critter could have been right in the track of all the ships all t h ese yea rs and never found out till n ow. What's this, Sammy? Jerushy Solomons! Douse my top-lights, if it ain t the m a n's diary, writ afore he died. Now we'll know all about him, S am ." CHAPTER XI. THE MAROON. The paper that had caused Captain Andrews to make such a. no ise w as a book, yellow with age, with brown writing. in places almost illegible from the washing away of the ink in many years of storm. This book was made of thick, heavy pap e r, with a very solid binding, and brass clasps, and bore on the side, in gold letters (turned green. in a manner that s h owed the lar ge quantity of cop per in the alloy), the words: "Abr aham Daggett." the name of the pore cuss th at owned them bones," the captain remarked. parenthetically. "Now, we'll maybe hear something what he was, and who left here, if he didn t git wrecked." He opened the book, and the first words that stared him in the face at the top of a page, were th ese: "God have mercy on the poor maroon!" Andrews uttered an exclamation of pity as he looked down at th e skeleton, saying: "Sammy, that pore feller was marooned. No wonder no one never found him. Mebbe they didn't want to find him." "Bu t what s marooning, cap?" asked the boy. "I forgot you didn't know much of them things, Sammy. Well, it ain't so many years ago that every one knowed all about the buccaneers. and the many friends they had in every port. \Vhcn they got down on one of th e ir own men. or sometimes when they took a prisoner and he didn't wanter walk the pbnk. tlicy used to put them ashore in sich a place as this, and called it maroon ing."
PAGE 18
BRA VE AND BOLD. ''Then, do you suppose this man was a bucker-what did ye call it, cap?" "A buccaneer, Sammy. That was a sort of pirate they used to have in the long time ago. Yes, that man must have been one of 'em, I guess. But we'll know better when we've read what's in this here book." He b e gan to pore ove r the writing, which was exceedingly dif ficult to decipher, owing to the lapse of time, but managed to make out at last about as follows: The book belonged to the man whose name was printed outside, one Abraham Daggett, who, it appeared, had been the master of the British ship the Maitha and Mary, of Hull. Captain Daggett, according to his own story, had always been "a good and God-fearing mariner," who had a letter of marque from his majesty "Charles, by the Grace of God, Second of the name, and King of Great Britain, France and Ireland, Defender of the Faith," etc., etc On this letter of marque, the diary said, he had acquired a large cargo of Spanish doubloons and other treasures, when he incurred the enmity of his mate, one Abiram Johnson, of Hull, on whom the diary i n voked all sorts of curses for "marooning his captain." The diary was dated in the year 1668, and ended abruptly with the words: "God have mercy on the poor maroon!" the same as at the beginning. It seemed strange to the two solitary voyagers thus to come on a place where they imagined none had ever been before, and to find it already occupied by the traces of man's passoins and misery; but that was all they found on the island. Even the diary gave but little information, beyond fact that Abraham Dag gett had been left there in the month of July, 1668, and that the last entry in the journal was made in October of the next year, showing that he had lived a little over a year on the island. What he had lived on they found by entries in the diary, which recorded catches of "turtles and fish," with great thankfulness; and at times chronicled periods of starvation till "the fish came around." The writer acknowledged that he had never been able to catch a single bird, and bewailed his want of ingenuity, and the fact that all the cruel mate had left him was "just his clothes and a knife." Then the sun set, just as they were reading the last words of the diary, and Captain Andrews involuntarily shuddered, as he said to Sam: "Let us go to the boat, boy. I ain't fond of passing nights alongside of skeletons; and this 'ere man was a bad one, judging from what he left in this book." They went down to the boat, and found that, while they had been gone, the tide had retreated, !he Dark Secret high and dr;y; but Sam noticed that the range between high and low water, around the island, was very small, and Captain Andrews explained it to him by saying: "The tide-wave ain't very big in the open sea, Sam, 'cause it ain't got nothen to stop it. But you let it come up a narrer inlet, and it ll raise a dust soon enough." It cost them a good deal of labor to make the boat safe for the night; but they were amply repaid by the pleasant night which they passed after it, sleeping on di;y sand, soft as a feather bed, with no fear about anything hurting them. When the morning sun shone in on them at daylight, Sam was the first to get up, and he was fairly amazed at the noise made by the canary birds in trees. It m a de lus adventure seem all the more unreal to have these birds, thall. he had been accustomt>d to think of as nothing but toys for wealthy people, flying about as common as sparrows, and still more numerous, for they seemed to be absolutely without limit, a n d there was nothing, apparently, to keep down their numbers. P l ace d as the island was, out of the t r ack of travel, the r e it had lain hundr eds of within fifty miles of the place where steamers were passing, yet unseen, simp l y because no one hap pened to have come that way in all that time. Canary b ir ds had flown there from the C'Vlary Islands, possibly many thousand of years before, blown over by a tempest, and, never being able or willing to leave it, there they had remained, in peace and plenty, till they had filled the whole island, and it was reserved for Captain William A. Andrews to discover this island by mere accident, when the storm drove him out of the regular track. The captain woke up some time after Sam, and they set to wor k to cook dinner, taking the last of the ham and beef therefor. 'As Sam tossed the bone of the ham into the sea, the captain gave a sort of half sigh, and observed: "I half wish I'd brought more meat, Sammy. A growin' kid like you eats a big lot of meat, and you want more'n I do." "Then, why don't we go to work and ketch turtles, cap?" asked the boy. "The book of that bucker-ninny feller tells all about the turtles, and he warn't no better able to ketch them than we are." "And that's so, too, Sam," the captain replied, "but the thing is to find the turtles, boy; I ain't seed hone yet. You see, they only comes to land once a year to lay eggs, and this ain't quite the time, I guess, for them to come." Sam turned and pointed to the sea, where he had noticed, for some time past, the smooth backs of turtles swimming about, and asked: "What d'ye call them, then, cap?" Andrews took a glance at the sea, then picked up his glass and favored them with a still keeper look, and finally said: "Sam, I've 1t afore, and I'll say it again, you're a regular mascot-that's what you are. Them's turtles, sure enough, and they're trying to make up their minds to come to shore and lay their eggs, but they see us here,. and it skeers them. We've got to git out of this." \ They left the boat on the shore, and retired to the shelter of the bushes on the top of the low island, when they hid themselves and waited. It was not very long before the turtles began to pop up their heads and look curiously at the shore, after which a few swam nearer. In an hour from the time when they saw them, the first turtle landed, scrambled up the beach, and they saw her at work excavating a hole in the sand for her eggs. Sam was nearly jump mg up and running down, but the captain told him that it was important not to disturb them yet at their work, as a single scare might send the whole fl0ck away from the island, while a million eggs could easily be secured by waHing a little. They watched, and saw the turtles coming on shore,. by tens, by hundreds, and finally by thousands, scratching holes in the sand up to the very base of the cliff, and, as soon as they had de posited their eggs, waddling slowly back to sea again. last Andrews gave the signal that it was time to act, and said to Sam: "Now, we don't want very much meat. you and me, Sammy, for we can t eat much, and it don't do for us to disturb the turtles. Between you and me, Sammy, this h e re island is a fortin in itself, and I've a good mind to stop here for a while, and see if we can't make som e money The n. as Sam look e d wond e ringly at him, he added: "These here turtles is just the kind that has the best shells,
PAGE 19
BRAVE AND BOLD. and we can l oad the Dark Secret, and fifty like her, with t11e best market tortoise-shell if we go about it the right way. The fust thing is to turn the turtles. Do jest as you see me do." They crept over the edge of the cliff, and came up behind the l ine of turtles, which were now so in t ent on their work that they d id not heed the presence of the two men. Andrews, going gent;Jy forward, took hold of the hind flipper of a turtle, and, with a single heave, turned it over on its back, it lay sprawling in a most undignified manner, utterly unable to turn back. Then he and Sam set to work to turn all the turtles they could, and within half an hour from the time they got over the edge of the cli .ff, had nearly five hundred on their backs, before they frightened the rest_ of the band, so quietly did they perform their feat. Then, when they were all safe, Andrews said: "Now, there is jest one way to git that tortoise shell off them turtles." '"Why, ye've got to kill the critters to git it, ain't ye, cap?" '.'No, Sammy; if that were all, then we'd have to waste a sight of meat a-doin' of it. But the plates has to be took off the backs of the turtles, and then let 'em go to raise more. And, to do that, we got to have a fire to heat some irons, and stick 'em at joints of the plates so as to git 'em loose." "And why don't we go right to work and do it, cap?" "That's jest what'll give us away, Sammy, as sure as fate. if we go to Jightin' any big fires in this here island on a clear day like this. \Vhy, they'd see the. smoke for fifty mile around, and come snoopin' around to see what it is." Under his orders, they dug a hole in the ground beneath some trees, and constructed a sort of stove, in which a fire could be built that would have a strong draft, and thus create a fierce heat in a very short time. To do this, the captain dug first a pit about two feet deep, which \VOuld hold him and Sammy, after which a second hole, about six inches deep and as many across, was dug about a foqt from the larger one. Then, by running a poin,ted stick into the side of thcl.iig hole, they soon found the bottom of the little one; and thus, by a little work, made a pipe leading right into the bottom of the small hole, which was shaped like a cup, and meant to hold the fire. After this they went around the islqnd, picking up sticks. They had n o difficulty in finding all they wanted, for t h e s hore and edge of the cliffs were covered with dry driftwood, left ther;e by the high storm tides, and most of the driftwood had b een broken up into small fragments, so that chips were plentiful. The captain selected the driest and smallest of these and .started a fire with fragments no larger than matches. Being built under the tree, what little smoke escaped was lost in the branches, but ecven that was almost imperceptible clo se by. After t h e hole was half full of these tiny sticks, blazing away merrily, red coals began to form, and the captain put ort sticks as big as lead pencils broken up small. Bit by bit he fed the fire in this cautious way, till at l ast a bed of red-hot coals, abo11t the s ize of the hole, was heaped up, into which the captain thrust the end of a spare boathook, a nd heated that, and all the spare i rons he had. red-hot, for the purpose of removing the shells from the backs of the turtles. It appeared like a cruel process, but really was not, for the shell of the turtle is insensible, like horn, and the searing was done rapidly at the edges of the plates, to curl them up and loosen them. Captain Andrews, who had been on a ''turtler" before, did the work, while it was Sam's business to keep the lire going under the tree, and havP spare irons heated, r eady for the captain when he called for them. In this way, by the division of labor, the work proceeded With marvelous rapidity till the sun when both were too much tired out to do more than throw themselves down on the and fal l fast asleep by the dying fire. That night they ;,lept the sound sleep of exhaustion. and, when the morning came, killed one of. the turtles for breakfast, a1 d found that the others, in w ri ggling about during the night on their backs, had shed theiishell!' all over the beach, and were fit to let go, which they did at once. Then they hastily broiled soni\'hy. I'd go ra vin', I do believe." The captai n curled his lip, with great disdain, as he replied: "No, ye wouldn't do no sich things, nuther, Sammy. \ Ve don't have spooks in :New E ngl and. We has reg'lar right-down spirrit rappin's, and all sich and pays for 'em properly. We don't allow no spooks to come around us w ithout chargin' a dollar a head. Don't go to foolin' me, Sammy, 'cause I know it's all bosh. Yot1 ai11't no more skeered of spooks than me."
PAGE 20
I BRAVE AND BOLD. Sammy grinne d, and replied : I was only coddin' yer cap." j Then they launch e d the Dari! S e cret ag a in, afte r landing most of her stores, and the captain sailed aw a y from t he is land, leav ing the former street arab s eate d on a rock, munching away at a gre en turtle steak, and looking the picture of c o mfort. S a mmy had gained se"ven pounds in the week he had b e en wi t h Willi a m A. Andrews. About a h undred fe e t from the sh o re the captain sh o uted b ack: "Say, Sammy, I'll take ye along, if ye'll d o s o mething fur me I" Instantly the b o y jumped up, eagerly asking: "What is it, cap?" "Tell me wh e re ye hid yerself whe n the Dark Secre t sailed?" Sammy slowly rai se d his right h and, w i th the fingers o u tspn: ad to their utm o st capacity, and placed the extremity of his thumb, with a d elicate twirling motion, on the tip of his small nose The n, raising the othe r hand, w it h a similar motion, he en gag e d the end of his thumb wi t h the tip of the little finger of his right hand, and worked all t e n fingers rapidly in the air. It was a mas o nic sigi1al, b e longin g to the forty-second degree of t he Order of the Mystic Shrine, and amaz e d the captain wonder fully so that he call e d back: Say, Sammy, where did ye git that from? Who give it to ye?" T he reply of the boy was rcm:irk a ble for its c o n c iseness : Same man as hid me, c ap. S o l o n g ." And, with that, he turne d to his ste a ks, while the captain, with a very thoughtful air, sail e d away, rum i nating over the singular s ignal made by Sammy. In another boy it would have been deemed rude, but in S a mmy there was a certain wild and un studied grace which made everything he did interesting. It was the last day of June when the captain left th. e lon e ly i s land and sailed all night with a favorable southeasterly breeze, toward the American coast,Into the track of commerce. On the first of July he pa s s e d several sails, but did not attempt to go near the m He was looking for a pilot boat w ith pie s on board All day long he searched in vain, and b e gan to think he would have to go back island without his heart's desire, when. on t he second day of July, at about eleven in !the m o rning, a b e autiful schooner b o re down on him, looking so like a pilot-boat that his heart sank in his shoes wh e n he received the answer to his h ail asking her name. S c h o oner S p r it i gbird John P. Harvende r, maste r, fr o m Provinceto.wn Massachusetts; and who in the name of wond e r be you friend? Be y o u a wrack m an?" ' I a m Captain William A Andre ws of the Dar k S e cr et," was the proud reply, bound for Queenstown, when I kin get the re, and what I wanter know is this: It's gittin' nitih the Fourth of July and I wanter keep it in style. Have :you any pies ab oard? I hain't had a 5qu a re meal for thre e days I'm sore and stiff with so much sittin g I broke my gaff in a storm lost my sleep rug, and broke my lantern. Won' t ye h elp a m a n out fpr charity, neighbor?" The c a ptain of the Springbird was wond e rfully impressed by the pathetic s tory of W i lliam A. An d r e ws, and, with all the cor dial i ty of a sailor, dived into his steward s pantry, and hunted up all sorts of things, which he handed over the side into tile Dark Secret The end of the matter was that th e capt ai n got a new lant e rn, a blanke t for Sammy, and no l e ss than t e n pi e s a m ong which t hree were of the kind which the adopted child of his heart craved so much, i e., th e toothsome lemon-cream, which Frenchified folks call meringue. The master of the Springbfrd noticed that Andrews was very anxious to obtain the correct latitude and longitude to comp a re with his own, and as the Dark Secret faded away on the horizon : ' T hat man s got grit, but he's a durned fool to go to sea in a thing lik e that. It'll be a durned dark secret what becomes of him; and my idee is that nobody won't never know." In the meantime, Andrews, as soon as he got out of sight of the schooner, shaped his course straight for the lonely island, which he made late on the night of the third of July, as the sun was s e tting He d i d not make a near approach till after dark, for he wanted to be sure that Sammy would not see him; but he was dis appo inted in finding the boy wide awake, as he ran the boat on the sands about midnight. He was hailed from the top of the bank by a small, piping voice, wh i ch said, qui e tly : "I've had supper ready for you, cap, ever so long. Turtle soup canaries, and oh l sich a whoppin' big bluefish you never seed! Come up to old Daggett's place, and we'll git ready fur Independence Day." "And how do you know it's Independence Day to-morrer?" ask e d the honest sailor, greatly amazed. "Who told ye?" "Told meself," was the laconic reply. "Say, cap, don't come the lawyer over me, and stand chinnin' there, but come and git yer s upper afore the things gits cold. Got the pies?" "You bet I have, Sammy !" was the delighted answer; "and lem o n-cr e ams, too, my boy. We'll jest qpve a bustin' old Fourth, me and you, Sammy The boy gave a whoop of delight, and then sobered down, and led the way to the center of the island, in the very place where they h a d found th e skeleton, where Andrews found that the waif, by carrying on the same principle which had enabled them to hid e th eir fire before h a d produced a bower of bark, in which he 1J1 laid out, on a table of old boards, quite a sumptuous meal of turtle steaks, fish, and, as he had said, roast canary birds. But what amazed the -captain most was something whi h c him to roar at the top of his voice: "J erushy Solomons, Sammy! Where did you gi th silver dishes from? My sakes alive, have ye be'n rabbi <'. ?" "No; but I reckon old Daggett used ter, once On' a time," was the tranquil reply of the waif. "Ye see, arter you' g o ne, I kinder thou ght that if that old rip had bee n a bucke ninny, he mi g ht have left some stuff behind him, so I went t rummallin' over the bones and things, a d all over the island. And at one place I come to a reg lar brass ring at the foCJt of a tree wher e the ground was worn away so I kn e w somethin' wa s hid t here, and I dug her up. And there she is now, cap, with a lot of m o ney. too. Look there!" He sh o wed to the captain some silver dishes, evidently once part of a church service of cups and chalice, made of solid silver, on which the ragged waif of the streets had set out their supper Captain Andrews, after his first exclamation of surprise, said: "Sammy, the dishes'll keep; the supper won 't. Let s tuck her in Which they both proceed e d to do with an appetite which they owed to the sea air, at the close of which Sammy observed: "Cap I di v ided fair wit h ye about the cigars. I ain't smoked but two a d a y since ye left; and now I've got down to pipes. What are we g o in to do for the Fourth?" Celebrate h er, S a mmy as b e comes true Americans from Borst-ing. W e wille at pie and drink champ a gne." Sammy leaped up in amazement, exclaiming: "Ch a mpagne Where?" "Aboard the Dark S e c r et ,'' r eturned the captain, with dignity, "A man gave me six bottles when I come away, a-purpose to c e lebrate the day as it oughter be, Sammy."
PAGE 21
' 20 BRA VE AND BOLD. "But I thought you was temp'rince, cap?" said the boy, wist fully ''So I am," retorted the captain, tartly, the first occasion on which he had lately shown irritation at his small companion. "It's jest because I am temp'dnce that I kept them bottles for the day. If I hadn't bee11, there wouldn't have been a drop left arter the first week, and the Dark Secret would have been dark forever. As it is, Sammy, I a111 going to get good and stavin' to-morrer, if necessary, and you kin drink Apollinaris, if you wanter." "But I don't wanter," retorted Sammy. "Say, cap. I didn't think you was mean, but I do believe you're gettin' that way. Six bottles of sham on the old hooker, and never a smell did I get. Never asked me if I had a mouth Cap, I didn't think it of youI didn't." He turned away, deeply affected, and the captain, moved in his turn, cried out, earnestly: "Sammy, don't say no more, and I'll give ye a hull glassful, all to yerself. A kid like you orter be ashamed to drink like growed men." "I kin drink you under the table, arly day, Cap Andrews," re the imp, with still more energy. ''Look here, I'll bet you all them silver dishes and tortoise-shell, I kin drink as much as you any day, and never feel it!" "Well, well, Sammy, we won't quarrel over the captain was beginning, and then.., as a thought struck him, stopped short, and said, sharply: "No, I'm durned if I will! Say, Sam, I'll give you half the champagne if you'll tell me where you stowed yourself aboard the Dark Secret." The boy hesitated a moment, and at last, with a shrug of his shoulders, that spoke volumes, said: "I thought you were a gentleman. You're just as mean as dirt, that's what you air. I won't tell ye. Find out.'' And. with that, before the captain could interc;ept him, he darted out of the shelter and nnished into the night so effectually that Andrews, who saw that he had offended the boy seriously, was unable to find him, and had to go to sleep alone, wondering where Sam Short had hidden himself away. When he awoke in the morning, the waif was by the side of the fire, coolly turning over some slices of fish in a large silver plate, that had once been use9 to hold church which the gracious Sam was now making use of as a frying pan. The captain was about to protest against it, when Sam showed him the arms of the Pope in the middle of the pan, through the clear gravy, and, as soon as A11drews recognized the crossed keys and other paraphernalia, he observed, resignedly: ''.Oh, well, that ain't so bad, arter all. Only don't let it burn t1P too mitch, 'cause it spoils it for mcltin' when we git home. Sam Short, what with the shells and all that plate we won't have :,t-;..-;: from ten thousand dollars when we git 11ome." S;im was about to answer, w!"i. It ain't your island; it's mine." Admiral O'Donoghue slir.1ggell his shoulders, saying: "We'll not fight about it to-day, captain. At the same time, ye'll allow me obsairve that possession is nine points of the law, and that me men belong to the lnvincible wing of the Irish party;
PAGE 22
BRA VE AND BOLD. 21 and, av ye don't behave yerself, we'll have to dunip ye In th e drinJ. and takt: the island for ourselves to-morrow, after sunrise. To-day, let us devote the time to celebratin' the qccasion." With a charming smile, he bowed to Captain Andrews, and, raising the bottle to his mouth, bit off the top \Vith one snap of his magnificent teeth, observing as he did so: "It saves the trouble of know. Here's to Charles Stewart Parnell, and the Stars an Stripes, captain!" Evidently, the men of the Eri11. o-Bragh were used to the ways of the admiral, for one of them had a silver cup ready, the moment the neck came off, and not a drop of the precios fluid was wasted. C.aptai1J Andrews, niore mctho4ii.:al, twisted the wire from his bottle, and poured out a bnt11p!!f in another cup, observing: "When you come to wca rin' plates, like I do, admiral, you won't bite the neck off a bottle. Here's to the day we celebrate!" After th11t the harmony between the two parties was complete, and the admiral, observing Sam Short, asked, curiously: "And what's that ye'v got, Captain Andrews? Is it wan of the natives, or did yez bring him along?" Sam saved his protector tro1.1ble of answering by replying for himself: "I'm Sam Short, the boy $low.away. admiral, and don't you forget it! I kin whip my weight aqy time; and, if OU think you kin spill my captain into the dri11k to-morrer, all I've got to say is, you're goin' to git sucked in. Here's to the Dark aod, wh en she gets to Queen s town, call me early in the mornin' an d I 'll s how you something." ' The Irish admiral seemeq to be greatly ti ck led with the im pudent ways of the boy, for he laughed heartily, and asked am: "And when did yez get yer hair ctlt last, me gossoon ( _ yez look as if ye'd escaped from a menagerie and' lost yer tail in a fire." The Boston boy was up to him .ht a moment, with the apt re-tort: "Any one cud see you was a greei1horn, only to look at you. Cati ye ttill me why your brogue is like a cheese, admiral?" "Faith, an' I can't, me boy! And why is it loike a cheese?" "Bekase ye cut it wid a knife," returned Sam; and, as he spoke, fearing retaliation, the imp skipped out of the reach of the admiral, and darted to the' top of the bank, from1 whence he called down: "'Paddy from Cork went out to swim, In the beautiful. salt, salt say; 4nd a whale he swallered him, all but the brOG"lltl, Which sticks out of his mouth to-day.'" The admiral colored dl"eply at the words of the boy, and ttm'\ed to Andrews, to say, with an injured air: "Sure, and ye ,shouldn't let that g osso on be so impident, cap tain. A dac;ent man like you ought to la,rrup the likes of him ivery mornin', to -tache him manners." Sam heard him, and eallcd tlown : ''lt'll take 111ore'n' you to teach me 1l'IU1111ers, admiral r I kin whip the hull face offen yon, any time yo wanter try it!'' The gasconade was so exaggerated that it mad e the good -na. tured admiral laugh, In spite of him elf, and he made no more threatP against the boy, whlle Captain Andrews apologetically observed: "He ain't to blame so much, admiral. He never had no father nor mother, so f!Jr as I anci he came aboard my boat as a I don't know to 1J1is hour where he: hid hi!llself, only I found him a.boarQ..'' The admiral favored the boy with a meaning look, as he re plied: "Sir, I niver dispute the wor-rd of a gintelman loike you. Any wan cal1 see that he's a 'cluchrechaun.'" The "honest captain stared hard at the admiral, repeat;jng: "A c1uchrechaut1 I And what in the name of Jernahy Solomon s is a clnchrechaun ?" "It's an Oirish fairy, sor, and Oireland's the only place where they has rale live fairies left. Ye'Jl know thcrn by this peculiarity, that when ye get ycr finger on them, sure, they ain't there, just like a flea, But, thin, a cluchrechaun always brings luck to the man that foinds him. Boys, bring out the case, and let's a bumper to the may thi: divil fly away wid him!" From that moment, Sam was never called an.ything else by the Irish sai lors but the clnchrechaun; and, as sodn as the boy found t h at, no matter what he said or did, no one noticed it, save to ob serve ''well done, cluchrechaun," he ceased his antics, and came into the camp with the rest, while they proceeded to celebrate the day. A salute was fired by the guns of the brig, and the Stars and Stri pes waved side by side with the Golqen Harp from the bra nches of the tallest tree on the island, while dinner was spread with a bounliful profusion that augmed well for the prosperity of the first cruiser of the Irish republic, Captain Andrews brought out his pies in honor of the occa sion, and Sam ate so much that he fell asleep <1fter dinner, and did not up till the sun was setting. When he did so, the Erin-Go-Brogh was lying tranquilly at anchor in red glow of the sinking orb of day, and three fourths of her crew were on shore, dancing and drinking to the music of three fiddlc;rs, who were scraping away for all they were worth. The case of champagne was succeeded by a second, a third, a fourth, and finally by a barrel of whiskey, on which the men of the Irish cruiser proceeded to e11joy themselves as only trueh ea rted Irish lads know how. They brought shillalah ashore, and before midnight half the men were lying around with broken head s, a smile of content on their honest faces. snoring away like good ones. Then, just as the morning St4r arose in the east:... An drews came quietly to Sam, aPd whispered, softly: "They're all asleep, boy, and now's our time to skip. If they find us here in the mornin', when they've all got tht"y're sure to su$pect us of betraying them. Come, Sam, let's get out of this.'' Sam cast a regretful look back at the island, and whispered: "But what'll we do with the tortoise and the silver, and all the rest of it? It seems hard to leave it all on account of them Micks.'' Captain Andrews pinched his arm sharply, whispering b;:\ck; "Don't let thein hear you c;all them Micks, or they'll take the skin off both of us." Then, quietly as sneak thii;ves, they stole down to the water, and launched the Dark Secret onc!.l 1J1ore.. CHAPTER XIV. THE lRONCLAD. It was the darkest hour of the nig ht, about an hour before dawn, as the capt a in and Sam managed to get the Dark Secret afloat. They had hard worl< to do it without maki11g apy 1'iut t)1e men of the Erin-G9-IJragh wen: SQ nrni;b witb l l
PAGE 23
22 BRA VE AND BOLD mingling of champagne and whiskey that one might have fired a cannon among them without waking a soul of the party At last they got the boat afloat, hoisted the sail, and stood nff under a very gentle air from the northwest. under wh ich they soon left the island behind them, and steered away to the. eastward. By the time the sun rqse, the island was a speck on the horizon, but the tall masts of the brig could just be seen above the land, and Sam observed to the captain : "Won't they be finely sold when they want to dump you and me in the drink this morning, cap? Where d'ye s'pose th e y got all that wine and whiskey from? They seemed to be mighty free with it." The captain made no answer for some time, till the sun. in rising, had completely hidden the island, wh('n he drew a long breath, and said, in tones that shook with some suppressed emotion: "Sammy, my boy, we had a wonderful narrow escap.e from them cusses." "Why, cap? There warn't no harm in them, was there?" the boy asked. "Only this, Sam. Them fellows was all Fenians. and every man of them knows all abo4t dynamite and them things. so they could blow us into the air as easy as kiss yer hand. I've heard of the brig afore, Sam." "Where, cap?" "Why, every now and then ye hear how some British ship 0f war gits lost at sea, and never comes hack as;rain. Some it a wrack, some a fire, but the only sartain thing ahont it is that she never comes back again, and none of her crew, nmher. N0w, the real cause of all them disasters is that 'ere innocent-lonkin' brig, which jest sends every British ship sht> meets to the bot tom, after takin' out what she wants for herself. That's where they got all the champagne from. I mistrusted it when 1 the labels of some of the bottles, which had a British coat-of-arms on the seal, and a broad arrer on the side of the bottle. That means British government property. But now we've got safe away from them, and I don't keer so much if we never see that 'ere island again. So long as them dynamiters know all about it, it ain't no fittin' place for quiet folks, like you and me, Sammy." The captain, steering, had been looking ahead, but Sam. perched In the bow, had been looking astern, and now he interrupted his chief to say, in a low voice: "Blamed if she ain't comin' arter us. cap!" Captain William A. Andrews started in his seat, and looked back. Sure enough, in the light of the rising sun they could see the white top of a square sail, and knew that it he the hrig. What was to he done? Andrews knew well enough that."'hnw ever jolly the Irish admiral had been the day befort>, as long as the whiskey lasted, his temper was likely to be very different next morninf5, when he found the Dark Secret gone. I "Samn1y." observed the captain, gravely, "I'm afeared we're in a bad fix if we don't see some more sails soon. That a
PAGE 24
BRAVE AND BOLD. Irish cruiser and the British ironclad, not ten minutes ago . Now they're gone. 'Who sunk 'em? If we tell folks they sunk each other, they'll say lie. ;\1e and you, Sammy, has got to keep a mighty still tongue in our heads, and tell lies, if we wanter be be lieved. It ain't safe\to tell the truth. nowada s. Folks is so used to readin' the papers that: they d,o.n't want the truth. So the next vessel we meet, Sammy, mind you, don't say nothin' about seein' the lrish brig and the British ironclad; I'll spin 'em that'll be a he from the word go, and you II see the fools II J 1st believe that, rather'u the truth." "One comfort, cap," the boy observed, "we won't be afraid to go back to the is!:tnd again now. Them Irish are all dead, and nobody else don't know nothen about it." "That shows what a kind Providence watched over me and you, Sam," the captain replied, piously. "What a mercy it was t hey was all killed together, so no one didn't know us. It's a good ten thousand dollars in our pockets, Sam. lt was a great mercy." "I wonder if they think so?" asked Sam, in a low voice, point ing at the sea, beneath which the British and lrish were alike re posing. Captain Andrews shrugged his shoulders, as he replied: 'Sammy. il ain't for us to fly into the face of Providence. They was just bred up to live by f\g\1ting, and they've got what they was bred to. We warn't no sich thing." Then they said nothing more during the rest of that day, dur ing which they sailed away to the northeast, with a strong breeze, \\'hich raised considerable sea, and lasted all On the next morning, Friday, July sixth, 1888. soon after day break, Sam, who was looking O\tt at the helm, while his captain s l e pt, saw a schooner bearing down on them, and roused An drews, while he himself \\'Cl1t under the half-deck in front, and hid himself in the midst of Apolli11aris bottles. The stranger turned out to be the H csper, pilot boat No. 5, which was cruising after steamship and had spied the speck on the ocean. The people of the H cs per expressed the greatest in terest in the Dark Secret, ar\d wondeted much at finding her still at such a short distancl" from the P,.merican coast. Captain An drews. to throw thern off the scent of the real cause of his delay, gave them a long story about headwinds, fogs, and other trifles, and asked ''how far he was from George's Banks." Being told that he was nearly abreast of them, the gallant cap tain told the pilot of the Hes per that "he had thought as much, on account of seeing so much fog and so many fishing vessels." He acknowledged that his progress had been slow, but laid it all to the head\\'inds, and expressed a hope of getting to Queenstown all in good time. Pilot Hooper, of the H asked him if he should not give him anything to eat or drink, but Andrews hastily replied: No, no; there ain't nothen yot1 kin do fur me, except to report me in Ne\\' York. l promised to send notes of all I seed and did, a nd I ain't 'had art opportunity to write a letter on account of the stormy weather." ''All right. I'll lie by ye till ye've writ yer letter, and take it to New York, when we git there," the good-natured pilot ex daimed. "I' d do anything for you and the Dark Secret, Cap An drews." "No, no," Andrews hastily replled. "There ain't no time to do it. I'm on my way to Queenstown, and you've got your biz to attend to. Jest report me in New York, and that's all right." Then the pilot-boat and the Dark Secret parted, and it was not till they were several miles off that Sam crept out of his hole, forward, and said to his chief: "Cap, this here lying is got to be did more systematical. We got to go back to the island and write a lot of letters, and set 'em afloat in bottles. Then, when we come acrost another schooner, we'll have a better story than you give 'em that time. I began to be afeared that pilot was a-comin' aboard to find me. And, if ever they git on to the island, cap,. there ain't no fort in for us." "!hat's true enough, Sammy, 1 the captain replied, "but, ye see, the trouble is this here I sot out to take the Dark Secret to Yurrup; and, if I don't git there, folks'll call me a blower. Ye see, Sammy, here I started on the eighteenth of June, and now ifs the sixth of July. That's nigh three weeks, and I hain't got two hundred miles from Cape Cod. Folks'll drop onto suthitJ' if we don t look sharp, Sammy; and it's a mighty sing'lar thing that island ain't never been seed afore." Then he said no more during the day, but, as oon as he was saidy out of sight of the Hesper, set his course for the mysterious island, which they reached late on the morning of the seventh of July. and at once went ashore. 1 hey found that the Irish cruiser had left many traces of the presence of the crew, in straw from champagne bottles, and other such trifles, but not a drop to drink. The evening and part of the next day was devoted by the cap tain to writing letters, which were inclosed in bottles, and which, if ever picked up, will make, when put together, a most curious account of the voyage of the Secret. The captain set sail from the island, alone, on the eighth of July, leaving Sam to take care of things, and set out with the deliberate design of intercepting another vessel, and giving the. impres ion that he had been detained by headwinds so near the coast About four o'clock in the afternoon he sighted the schooner Laura Nelson, Captain Otto Johnson, to whim he told a most la ment able story of having broken his gaff and lantern, and being in want of all sorts of things, with which the honest sailor sup plied him, with the utmost cheerfulness. On parting from the Laiira Nclso11, he shaped h!s course for the island, and exhibited treasures to Sammy, who replied by ex hibiting, on his part, package after package of tortoise shell, which he had made up for transport, as soon as they should get a larger vessel to do the carrying. Captain Andrews only remained there that day, and said to Sam on the next: "And now, my boy, I've got to leave you, and show myself farther out. Folks can't be fooled forever, and I'm ashamed of being spoke by schooners for three weeks at a timeand me never clear of George's Banks. I'm a-goin' out straight east now for a good three days, and, if ye never see me again, why, Sammy. you jest stay here till ye see some sail on the hori zon. Then you jest light a fire, and, when they come to take you off. make 'em pay you for your tortoise shell." Sammy made some trouble about allowing his commander to go from him, but. when he found that it was useless to oppose him, simply shook hands, with an air of resignation, and said: "Very well. cap, you kin go; but jest remember this-if you git drowned. I won't never leave this island. I don't wanter go back to the places where every one grudges every one else a bit of grub, if he can't pay for it. Here I kin get all the turtle and canary birds I want for nothen; and in Bohsting I starved for want of money. So, if you don't come back, I won't never leave this place." And he stood on the shore, wistfully watching the sail of the Dark Secret as she stood away to the northeast on her last seri ous voyage. Sam watched her till her tiny lateen sail disappeared beneath the horizon, and then turned away, with a sigh, saying to himself. as if addressing another person: ''Sam Short, you won't meet another such a man as the captain in a hurry again. He is what they call a nobleman of nature." It was noticeable that, as soon as he was alone, the voice of the waif became smoother, his lan2uage more grammatical, and that he no longer used the slang with which he had favored the cap tain. In fact, Sam Short, alone, behaved like a civilized being, and there \\'as something in the' expression of his face, as he stood on the bfuff, thoughtfully gazing after the boat, that irresistibly impressed the beholder with the fact that he was older than he ap peared. CHAPTER XVI. THE DORY'S LUCK. On the aftetnoon of Wednesday, July eleventh, as Pilot A. B. Murphy, Jr.. of the good s chooner ;1merira11. No. 2r, was gazing out to leeward ahead of his vessel, peering for a steamer to take into port, his eyes caught sight, through the dark haze, of a little black speck, which now and then arose to the crest of a wave and vanished again. At first he regarded it as only a piece nf driftwood. hnt. as he came closer and closer. he perceived, to his intense amazement. that it was a boat no bigger than an ordinary dory, 011t on the raging Atlantic all alone, with a single man steering from the stern-sheets. To say that Pilot A. B. Jr., was is a word. For a moment or two he was stricken dumb, and er himself piously, with a muttered: "Ave Mar-ia grat-ia plena!"
PAGE 25
BRAVE AND BOLD. The honest sailor had been an acolyte in his boyhood, and in times such as this the pious phrases of his childhood recurred to him. He thought he was looking on a marine ghost, a relic of the Flying Dutchman, or something of the sort, and the notion naturally called forth a prayer. But as the schooner drew nearer and nearer to the boat, and he recognized the lateen sail, it came into his mind that the Dark Secret had sailed away from Boston on the eighteenth of June, and he said to himself: "Holy fathers, is that all the distance he's got in nigh one month? Sure, he must have stoppin' places somewhere, or he'd be across, or at the bottom, afore this. I belave his nerve's gone." The pilot reported to his mates the presence of the boat, and the schooner was heading toward it, fir ing a musket as they ap proached, to which the man in the boat repli e d by waving his hat. Whey they got within hailing distance, Murphy cried out: "Boat ahoy, what the divil are ye doin' out here? Are ye a castaway, and d'ye want to get home? Where are yez gain"?" "To Queenstown," was the startling r ep ly, as Captain William A. Andrews smiled back his welcome. "This is the Dark Serret, on her way there. Can you tell me how far I am? What is the latitude and longitude?" "You're in latitude 41 degrees 20 minutes, longitude 64 degrees 12 minutes. About four hundred and thirrv-t wo miles east of New York," was the comforting reply, at which Andrews shook his head gravely, saying: "I ought to have done better than that, but I haven't any reason to complain, so far as comfort goes. The headwinds. since I started have kept me from covering distance very fast. Well, captain, good-by, and don't forget to report me when you get to New York. I'm Captain William A. Andrews, of the Dark Se cret, bound to Queenstown, and going to get there. "And, bedad, ye'll be gray-headed before ye do!" Murphy re plied, with the honest frankness of a s:iilor. "Sure. ye're the slowest man I ever heard of, C a ptain Andrews, whin it takes yez three weeks to sail four hundred mile s Good luck to yez, any way, and may yez keep from Davy Jones' locker as long as yez can ." Then the American parted from the Dark Secret, and Captain Andrews said to him. with a chuckle: "Four hundred miles out, a nd no one suspects the island yet. What a sell it will be when they find it out." Within an hour from the time that the Ame1ica11 parted from the Dark Secret, the haze came on very thick, and the sea got so r ough that the stout schooner had to reduce her canvas to a little triangular r ag on the mainmast, with a fragment of a jib. Finally, even this proved too severe a trail. and s he was com p e lled to haul down the jib, let go a hundred fath o ms of cable, and ride to a drag, made of a spar, which acted as an anchor. The waves rose far above the tops of her m asts and the wind blew with a severity that made the n ake d spa rs groan and tremble. This hurricane, for such it w as. las ted over fonr hours, and, whe n it was over, Murphy remarked to one of his friends: "That's the last of the Dark Seci-IJt, I'll go b0il. b o ys. Divil the boat was iver built could live through a say like tint." And he went home to report that the Dark Secret had gone to the b otto m ina storm. But she had not. On the morning of the twe lfth of July, as the North German Lloyd steamship Ems was b ow ling along, in the early morning watch, with a light northwes t breeze, fourth mqte s1w a buoy floating on the water, a little ahead of the ship, and called out in German : "Do you see that buoy? I wcnder wh1t it is doing out here? \Ve ought to pick it up-oug h tn't we. Fritz?" Fritz was his companion on the watch, but all he said \\'as: "The old man wouldn't hear of us stopping for a littl e thing like that. It's only a bottle, anyway." "But what is th :it ?" asked Baumann, pointing over the p o rt side of th e ship, a little ahead. "On my soul, it looks like a boat! Ha! Look-he has fired a shot!" And. sure enoug-h, a littl e pt:ff of smoke was seen to come from the boat, followed. after a interval. the tiny crack of a pistol or torpedo, it "as difficu lt to say wh'ch. Mate Baumann r an down to r e port to his capt1in, and C0nin Jungst soo n came on d eck, rubbin;:!' hi s eyes and to bear down on this sin gu l a r se:t-wa if The lrnge ste:mwr 1ltt-r r d her course, and pretty soon came up beside the little coc kleshell when the captain shouted over the side, in the best English he could command: ''Vhere vas you going all de viles-hein ?" The man in the st ange boat looked up, with a smile, and called back, with perfect tranquillity: "Thi s craft is the Dark S e cret, and it 's bound for Queenstown. D id you pick up any buoys ?" "No," replied J ungst, amazedly. "Vy, mein freund. you must be grazee. Don' t you vant us to take you on poard and pring you to Ny Yarrick?" "No, of course not," the gallant captain replied. "I'm going to Queenstown in this boat, and don't you forget it!" Captain Jungst, having come from the other side of the ocean, had not heard of the daring captain or his boat, and he shouted back, in great excitement: "I tell you, you vas grazee-grazee as von pedpug Sh top dot poat unt come apoard dis schiff. Mein Gott it is against de law to gommit zooicide Don't you vos know dot, you grazee esel ?" Captain William A. Andrew s merely waved his hand politely. With that, he drew the sheet of his sail-which had been flapping their brief connrsation-a little aft, to catch the wind. and, as the breeze filled it the Dark SeCl"et moved off from the stately steamer. leaving Capta i n ] ungst shaking his head and muttering to himself. as h e watched the tiny craft. The Ems resumed her course, and stood for the great harbor of New York, while the Dark Secret pursued her way to the eastward, Captain Andrews saying to himself: "I have succeeded in throwing them a .ff the trail of the island, I think, pretty effectually. In a little time. I can afford to go bark. stcure of one thing, that no one will hunt me up, as long as I keep out of the regular track of commerce." And, in the meanti me, Sam Short, alone on the isl and. was turning turtles every day. preparing the shells, and saying to himself, as he anxiously watched the horizon for the well-known white speck which was to announce the Dark Serret: "He shall find that I. too. have not been idle. He took me np, a p e nnil ess waif and stowaway, and, instead of throwing me ov erboard. treated me like a son. He shall not lose by it. \Villiam A. Andrews, wh e n you started out you were but a poor man. whose whole worldly wealth was embarked i n that cockl es hell of a dory. When you go b ac k, it shall be with a fortune th q t shall place you among the merchant princes of the land. T. Sam Short, the boy stowaway. have sworn it, and T never brea k my oath." So the d a ys p asse d by in glory, and the nights in p eace, till tile moon approached the full. 'Then. one glorious night. when the great silve r orb thre w a flood of light on the ocean and almost obliterated the stars, as Sam sat 011 the edge of the blnff. looking out to the ea stward. he b eca me sensible of a dull, red glow, that portended a fire, and said to himself: "A ship is burning! If she is ah?ndoned hy her crew, who knows but what the boat may stpmble o n this island? That won Id be lnckv for them. hut unfort nnate for our schern<"s of m o n ey. -H ark! What is that? A gun, by heavens I It is a ,,hip in distress!" CHAPTER XVI. THE LAST REPORT Tn was 011 the morning of Thursday, Jnly twelft h. that Captain oi th!? '.'forth Gerrn:m Lloyd steamship Saale. was rouscrl frum his sleep by the office r of the watch coming down and i11-form111g h im that the1e was a boat in sight, alone on the sea. And 1 think it must b e 1 he remains of a wreck, captain," he said. It was th e n a little after snnrise. rind the captain was very soon on deck, he b e held a beautifttl sight. It was half-past fiv e in the morning. with a p<' rf ec tly clear sky. and the snn was tip pinl!' every w aye with gold. so as to dazzle the eyes of the be hcldtr. There was a fre s h breeze from the west. so that the Saale lwd no ro nv as up. was plow'n" her way throu.gh by main steam. The mate handed the C1ptain th e ghss he 111d been using. anrl Richter soon found the object which had attracted the oth e r of ficr r's attent i o n. in a little dot o n the hce of the occ;in. 1Pn ca rin g and di 'iap pe aring b ehind the waves. E\'ery n ow and th('n it w1s cnlircly ill\isible, ;md then. just as every <'11!.' thnufYht it h:id d'saOO<"Jrcd. tlw outline of a J;itecn s'1il would n11ke its arip earanrc agam, as a puff of wind made the boat luff. and the sailor could
PAGE 26
BRAVE AND BOLD. see that it was, indeed, a boat, with a small sail, alone on the ocean. Thinking, as every one else had done, that the boat must have come from some wreck. the steamer turned her course that way, and soon ran up close to the boat, which turned out to be a small dory, with a single occupant. As the huge steamer came within hailing distance, and stopped her engines, the man in the boat stood up and waved his hat, when Captain Richter called out: "Vot you do mit dot poat ?" To his intense amazement, the man in the boat called out: "This is the Dark Secnit, and I am bound for Qlleenstown, Ireland. Can you tell me my present la titude and longitude?" The captain. who was a hasty-tempered who spoke with a marked accent when irritated, rapped out, instantly: "Vat dot you say? Vot for kind of shtuff dot you geef me, you ignorant veller? Hein? Mein Gott in Himmel! you ,as a grazee ltnatic, unt I takes you unt puts you in irons, shust like grazee man. eef you no dells trut'. vVho you vas, unt vere vou cooms from? Hein?" "I tell you l am Captain William A. Andrews. of Borsting, and this is the Dark Secret, bound for Queenstown or bust," replied the mariner, in the same confident style. "Don't you want to give me the latitude and longitude? Well. keep them, if you don't. I can work my own reckonings, or I wouldn't be here The captain was too much astonished at the tone adopted by the man in the boat to reply for a moment, but then he managed to say: "Mein Gott, man! You know vere you is? Hdn ?" "That's just what I'm asking you. you dunderheaded Dutch sauerkraut-eater!" rapped out Andrews, angrily. "Don't you want to give me the reckonings, or do you?" "Oh, I gif you dem reggonings shoost so easy as noddings," the Gt"rman captain cried out. "You vas in latitude ein uni fiersig, nort', um elem longshitoocls vas drei unt sechsig degree unt swan sig minuten. ve from dot Krecnvich." "Oh, talk United and give us a rest!" cried Andrews, angrily, from his cockle:;hell. "Wl:ar in Heaven's name do you suppose I know about your swanseys and fearseys, and all that lingo? I wai:it to what my latitude is north. I make it 41 degrees 20 mmutes. "Den you vas wrong!" cried the captain, triumph;i,ntly. "You vas not unterstant dot nafikation like dem Shermnns vot nefer koes to sea mitout dems haves de eddication dot dey vants. You as shoost dirty-no, l mean near tventee mile out of dot \\'ay. Dem latitude vas vat you call 41 degrees 38 minutes. I makes dem latitude meinselluf, unt I knows vat I says, young man." "All ri g ht," Andrews called back, more good-temperedly, and tak ing do\\'11 the figures on a slate. "Now for the longitude. \' ou have a better chronometer than mine, and your ship don't ob about like my boat. I make that 63 degrees 51 minutes." "l'nt you vas wrong akai'n," the captain cnied, quite delighted ow. ''T haf say dot before, unt I say it akain, dere vas no nation ikt> dt> Sherman. mt hafs dem asdronomee at dems fingers. hein? ot longitude \os only sixty-drce, tventee, unt dot you can shvear y. Unt now I haf gifen you dot, vat more you vant to know, iein ?" "How far do you make it from Sandy Hook, then?" the bold nariner asked. "I want to get my bearings correct, so that I 1ay k'TIOW where I am." "You vas shoost fi\'e huntert mile from dot Santy Hook, unt ef you vas come on poart, ve ket you d e re de tay after do-mor ow," the captain replied, restored to good humor by his victory ver other in the matter of navigation. To his great surprise, Andrews answered: "Much obliged, but I told you I was going to Queenstown, and 1at is just the place I'm going to. Good-by, captain; much liged for your courtesy." He sat down in his boat, Arew the sheet aft, and, as the little ing gathered way, and Rici :er saw that he was in earnest, he outed out. at the top of his voice: "Say, you grazee veller in dot poat, don't you vas vant some ngs to eat all de viles? I geef you some schwcinfleissh, 'in?" I "Don't want any swine's flesh," returned Andrews, contemptu sly. ''I'm from Borsting, I want you to understand, and I've t all the beans I want on board." Then the hug<: steamer resumed her way. The last they saw of the Dark Secret the white puff of smoke showed that Andrews had fired his signal gun and waved his hat as he went out of sight. The Saale arrived in New York the following day, and her captain, true to his promise, reported her; but as usual in such cases, the daily papers got the thing wrong, and reported the Dark Secret as having sailed on the Fourth of July, when, as a matter of fact, she had been already at sea near a month. As for Captain Andrews, as socn as he was clear of the steamer, and alone on the ocean. he shifted his sail, and stood away to the south, letting go his log-line, and finding that he was making about six knots an hour in that direction. I He kept course for ten hours, by the watch, and calculated that he had then reached about the latitude he desired, just a little south of the regular track of steamers. To make sure of this, he kept on until sunset, and then again till the three days' old moon sank, in its turn, into the bosom of the ocean. He had made up his mind that he would not be spoken again, and had to get into a perfectly unfrequented part of the ocean to make sure of getting back. to the island in safety. He was by no means sure of finding it, either, for he had been rather hazy about his latitude and longitude when there. The Irish cruiser had brought such a lot of whiskey and champagne on shore, and he himself had been so nearly overcome by that he had but a confused memory of the place; and. when he nnally set his course for the west again. he was compelled to acknowl edgt' that he would have a hard time finding the island. "Huntin' a island, like that 'ere," quoth the honest mariner to himself, "is like huntin' a needle in a waggin load of hay, and the only wonder is I ever stumbled on it as I did. One island's blamed easy to be missed a good many times." The night of the twelfth was fine, until the moon went down, and, when the wipd rose, the clouds rose with it, and hid the stars. The captain lit his lamp to examine the compass, but was soon warned that this was a dangerous proceeding. There was but little sea on, but the darkness was great, and the light of the boat could be seen for miles around, J:iy any one who hapnrned to be looking for it. That there were living beings about who took an interest in that light. he was soon made painfully aware, when a whale broached close to the boat, coming out of the darkness like a ghost but making as much noise as a steamer. In another moment came a second and a third monster, and the Dark Secret was surrounded with huge whales, the smallest of which was at least a dozen times the length of the boat, as it seemed to his excited imagination, while every one seemed pene trated with curiosity to investigate the cause of the light. In a great hurry Andrews extinguished this, hoping to be rid of his huge companions; but they had caught sight of the boat, and could not be shaken off for some time. They rubbed their great sides against it, as if they thought it one of their own kind, and every now and then one of them would give a sounding slap with its huge tail, not a hundred feet from the boat, which would drench its 6ccupant with spray, and frightened that bold mariner in spite of all his courage. In fact there never had been a time in all the experience of Captain Willi
PAGE 27
BRAVE AND BOLD. the beach from the sunken vessels, and among them, a s it hap pened, a copy of the nautical almanac, from which he discovered that the moon came to the full on the 23d of July. and that, at the time he saw the red. glare of the burning ship, the said moon wanted three days of being at the full. Consequently, he rea s oned with himself that the day of the month must be the 20th. ad that his friend and patron, who left the i s land on the 10th of July, had been gone ten full days, with no tidings heard Sam sat and watched the red glare in the sky for several hours, till the glow faded away, just about the time the moon was ready to sink in the west. I He was able then to locate the fire as being nearly east of the island, and wondered what it could be. while still wondering he became sleepy, and retired to rest in the little hut he had constructed near the place where he had found the skeleton, where he slumbered till the warbling of the canary birds told him that it was dawn. Ri s ing from his humble couch he cast his first glance over the hitherto lonely and silent ocean. The sun had not yet risen, but the moon had gone down, and a faint light reflected from the stars showed him tire horizon all around. The red glctw of the fire had vani s hed, but a look at the "Dipper" and North Star set him right in the points of compass, and he turned his gaze to the eastward. By that time the glow of the coming sun began to flush the horizon in that direction, and right in the midst of the purple flush, he saw the black outline of a sail. For a while he watched it, and distinguished the familiar triangular outline of a lateen-sail, such as the dory used, from which he augured that the Dark Secret was coming back. The delighted boy began to dance and sins-, all al9ne by him self on the island, and ran down to the shore to be ready to wel come his patron, whom he fu!Jy believed to be coming home. Then, as the light strengthened, and the shape of the boat be came plainer, he perceived, to his surprise and a little dismay, that there were two sails in a line, which only showed when the boat happened to yaw from her course. In short, the coming boat was not the Dark Secret, but a stranger. Then the sun rose out of the sea, and Sam saw the boat plainly not half a mile from the island and heading directly for it. Half an hour. later it rounded to, close to the only landing place, and he perceived that it had but two occupants, an old man with a very long white beard, and a girl, apparently about ten years old The old man wore heavy clothing, as if the weather had been cold, and the girl was attired in a fashion that indicated she hart been roused from slumber hurriedly, and wrapped in whatever came the handiest in the emergency. That they were refugees from the wreck Sam had no doubt; hut how came they there, all alone, and what had become of the sailors of the burning ship? With these questions agitating his mind he went down to the shore to direct the boat to a landing. and his appearance produced an evident disturbance in the minds of the occupants of the strange boat. The old man, who was steering, said to the girl and threw the head of the little craft to the wind, allowing her to drift along, while he and the child held a short consultation in low tone s What they said Sam could not hear; but he called out over the wav es, in the rough and ungrammatical style which he had affected with Andrew s : "What's the muss, old man?' No one won't hurt ye. Nothen here but birds and turtles, and me . I'm Sam Short, the mysteri ous Boy Stowaway, goin' to Yurrup to claim the estates of my anc e s t ors. I am. Who in the name of sense be you? The Old Man of the Sea,11 should say." His words and personal appearance seemed to rC"assure the two in the boat, for the old man called back, with a strong foreign accent: ... Y..fe would not hurt anybody for de world, sare Ve are but two poor prisonairs, clat escape from von cruel death. Ve vii come on shore, vid your kind permission." The way in which the old man spoke was so polite and gentle, s o different from the manners of a11 ordinary sailor, that Sam saw he had made a new and remarkable acquaintance, so be bowed low and cried: "Come ashore, sir. and welcome. If you like turtle-soup I'll warm up what's left from over 11ight, in the s hake of a lamb's tail." A slight smile lifted the old man's white beard as he heard the quaint salutation, and he drew the sheet of his mainsail aft to catch the wind, and turned the CO'Jrse of the boat toward the island. Sam, being very much interested in the strangers, helped them by catching hold of the boat as it grated on the sand, and putting his slender s trength to the otlice of hauling her further up Then the old man got slowly :i.nd stiffly out of the boat, and re vealed to Sam the most singular figure he had yet seen in his ex. The heavy coat of the old man, which he had only vaguely noticed in the boat, turned out to be made of sheepskin, with the wool outside, and came down to his heels like an nlstcr, while his white locks were surmounted by a cap of' the same material. It looked hot enough for the middle of J a nuary rather than July. This sheepskin coat was belted around his middle with a coarse woolen sash, and the whole rig was so curious that Sam cauld not help the remark: "Say, mister, do the folks in your country all dress like you?" The old man did not appear offended by the remark, for he laughed and replied: "Yes, my boy, dey de>, ven of von class alone. Dis is vat is called de coat of de mooshik, vich I vear, because I come t o deir level, dough I vas not born dere. You know vat is a m o oshik ?" "No, I don't know what a mooshik is, and what' s more, l don't believe there ain't no sich men anywhere," returned Sam. with the charming and breezy frankness he had contracted from long association with the children of bvilization called "street Arabs." "Now, look a-here, dad, don't go to givin' me no fis h stories. I'm from Borsting, you know, and we don\fwaller chest nuts fur a cent. What country do you come fromc? "From Russia, my son," replied the old man, placidly. ''You have heard of dat country, perhaps, in Boston?" "Heard of it?" echoed Sam, with great disdain. ''Why, in Rors ting we know everything, we do. In heard of it. Do all the Rooshans dress like you?" "No, my son, only the peasant-vat ve call de mooshiks. Dat is my state at present. I am but a mooshik, von of de p oo r m e n of de earth dat only vant a lcetle place to lay deir b o n es and a mouthful to eat. But I vas not born so I va s Yat you call a preence in my day. A Russian precnce. Yes, I have giYe up a good deal, my son, to be treated like dis." Sam opened his eyes and mouth together, as he ejaculated. "A prince! A re3l prince, with a gold crown and all that? Oh, sho what are ye givin' us, dad? You ain't no prince you ain't." The cheek of the old man reddened slightly as he replied: "I am very much afraid you are vat dey call leetle vulgar boy. T am not preence now, I say. but I vas vonce You se de distinc tion? I vas a preence, and I was a Ni1".ilist. You h:ive heard of Nihilist? Dey vas de men vat de Czar tr-r-remble on his tr-r-r-rone, sare." And the old man shook his hand in the air with an aspect of lofty enthusiasm, wh .kh made Sam look at him with much more re s pect, as he replied to his outburst: "No offense, sir. No offense. I didn't mean nothen agin' you. But if you be a Rooshen. how in thunder do you come out here on this island. where there ain't no one but me, and the turtles, and Cap. Andrews, sencC" the world began?" The old Nihilist laughed again, as if restored to good humor, as he returned answer: "Aha. Dat is deeferent. My boy, you did see, perhaps, last night, a great fire on de sea?" "I did," said Sam with great interest and eagerness. \ Vhat of it?" The old man rubbed his hands gleefully as he replied: "l\1y boy, I light dat fire mysell'! Aha! Dey did say to me, 'Preence Oshkinski, you vas a meeserable wretch! You have try to keel de Czar, vat reign over his people by de right Divine. Ve put you on de sheep, and ve send you to live in de citee of Chicago all de rest of your life. Dat is de place vere dey know how to make such men s you behave. Ve send you dere in irons. and give you to de American police, and dey keep an eye on you." "But how was they gom' to get you to Chicago?" asked Sam, with his month wide open. The old Nihilist smiled as. he replied: "Dey send me in a sheeo of war. a nd dey tum me over. a
PAGE 28
BRAVE A N D BOLD. dey t'.nk, to one man call Pinkertcne, in Chicago. Dey say he kn ow how to take care of me. But I fcex dem." ''And how?" asked Sam, with his mouth wide open as before. "I set de sheep on fire meinself last n:ght, und ven dey come t o take me to de boat-me and Katinka, here, my grandchild-she vas all in tlame from top to bott o m. And den I take de leetle dynamite, dat [ have save all dat time, and [ trow it in de maga-7.ine, and de sheep he blow up in de air and knock de sailor dead out of de boat." "And why didn't it kill you and the kid?" asked Sam. "Because we are both in de vater vid de life belt on and ve see de boat s mash and s ink all ar.;und, and ven dey \as all dead l take Katinka a nd ve climb on dis boat and ve sail ava\' like dis till \'(! come to dis island. arid now ve shall all be happy togcde r "Don't be too sure of that," observed Sam, sententiously. "I sec a sail on the horizon now. and if it comes this way a-lookin' fur you, o ld nion. you'll catch ginger for what you've done." The old Nihilist turned around and surveyed the c 9111ing sail with the loo'; of a hunted animal. as he cried: "Great h eavens, was I never safe anywhere?" CHAPTER XVITI. THE DARK SECRET AGAIN .t Whe n Sam Short had taken a good lolk at the sail he jumped and shouted aloud for joy. It was the Dark S e cret. An hour later Captain Andrews had landed and was introduced to the Russi a n exile and his daughter. They spe111 a few d ays prep a ring the torto;se shells and then C"ptain Andrews loaded th e m in Prince Oshenki's boat. The next day Sam Short and the two Russians set sail for Ber mt;da. which the c aptain's reckoning showed to be only a few hun rlrcd miles away, Sam Short being able to steer by compass and -;tars and rake the boat that distance. Then Captain Andrews himself set sail again on' the voyage 1 cros s the Atlantic, en which he h a d started so often. But he was doomed to more hard weather. The \\ind had been southeast, gentle and warm: while this d rose up in the northwest. sharp and clearly defined. From th<" compass he found that he was driving almost dllL' -<.>uth, ;mcl once during the d::i.y caught sight oi a vessel under single. close-reefed topsail. lying to. as he Aitted past. That night the clouds lifted higher. so (hat he o::ould see the ho rizon all around him, with a pale phosphorescent light com ing frn111 the sea He had been drinn. as he brgn to calculate. many miles to the ,;u ttlh and was getting into low latitudes where the sea is full of liv< C"reatnres, whi'h mak e it shine in the d a rk. That night as he drme along. half a w a ke !tali sleeping, as he sat at the he l m. the boat sudde nly flashed across another vessel, ,cry little larger than itse lf, bm lying-to a1 a drag. The unly w a y that Andrews knew it to hr n \'essrl was by see ing her b ow-lights as she rose on the crest of a wave, and he very nearly ran into her, but mana ge d to scrape past without damage. As he drove by the vesse I he saw she was a small sloop. very slimly built, and looking like a yacht; but that was all he could clctermine On board thi:yacht herself there had been many a look sent over the sea during th" previous day, for the Dark Secret; but so he a vy was th e storm, and so dark th e night, that no glimpse was caught of Captain Andrews as, without any light, he flitted riast the laboring cutter. H a d he been able to signal her, in that momentary pas sage, the rieo ple of the Stranger-for that was the name of the y:u-htwould never have given at Queenstown the report which hey took there, that the Da r/i S ecre t "probably \ founder ed. She was unsinkable without bein g torn to pieces, and all that night she drove to the south, getting further and furthe r out of her o ri gi nal course, 2nd into lower and lowe r latitudes. The third and fonrth of August passed w ithout any abatement nf the storm. save that the wind became more steady, and the sea l ess inclin ed t'o sweep over the dory. So also with the fifth and sixth. tho ugh Andrews managed to snatch a few mouthfuls of food in the stern of the bo::i.t, where he s'\t all alone, half asleep, half awake. during th::i.t we e k of heaYy tri11. S e veral times he thought that he was going down. and lnd made llp his mind to cut loose the buoy. whiC"h he Ind provided for just such times. to convC'y to others the tidin;ss of his fate. Only one thing prevented him. He had not yet made up his mind whether to tell the whole truth alJuu l his voyage o r to tell a pl11usible tale, to conceal the ex istence of Andrews Island, which he wished to leave to Sam Short. So, for the want of a quiet moment in which to write, and a dry place to write in, Captain Andrews deferred writing till the morning of the sixth of August, when the storm broke as sud denly as it had risen, and he found himself in an open sea, the dark blue of whose waters showed him that he was in the very de e pest part of the Atlantic Ocean, while the regular breeze from the northeast, the white cloudlets scudding swiftly across the heavrns, and the unusual heat of the sun, when it broke out. told him th at he had reached the region 'of the tropical trade-winds, to which he had been driven by the storm in which ne was reported to have foundered. At the very moment he made this discovery he made two others; both exceedingly interesting One was that of a dark line on the horizon, extending for many miles which he took for land; the other was the sail of a boat, not much bigger than his own, and of a peculiar shape, which he recogniz e d as that of the boat in which he had sent Sam and the old Nihilist, Prince Oshkinsky, off to Bermuda. Now they had drifted together with the Dark Secret again in some mysterious way, in the storm; and the gallant mariner's heart swelled with emotion as he said to himself: "That boy and me are bound to be together, no matter what happ ens. There must be a fate in it all." When he first saw the little while sail it was about three miles off, but so low was the Dark Secret in the water, that her horizon did not extend far beyond this distance, and the sail looked a good deal further away. The trade-wind being fresh and steady, Andrews shook out the reefs in his lateen-sail and held his course straight for the other boat. which he reached in about half an hour, to find therein no one but Sam Short and the little Russia n girl, Katinka; both lo;k ing hagg a rd and pale, as if they had passed through a great deal of hardship. By that time also he had discovered that the dark line in front, instead of being land. was a vast aggregation of sea-weed, which covered the ocean for miles in every direction, and convinced him that he had been driven by the storm to the borders of the re nowned "l\lare Sargasso" and "Grassy Sea, which frightened Columbus. four hundred years ago, when making his first voy age to America. Tl1e first question which Andrews put to Sam was: ."\Vhc re is the prince?" Thr poor bey shook his head mournfully and pointe d to Katinka. in whom the question produced a great effect. The child burst into tears and sobbed forth: "Oh, captain, captain, if you had only been here it would not have happened. Oh, p a pa, papa, we shall never see him again." Then s he wept bitterly. and Andrews learn e d after a while that thr boat had nearly perished in a part of the storm which had driven h i m out of his own course, and that the prince had been swept from the tiller by a great wave which nearly sunk the boat two days before. The effect produced Jliln the sailor by this rati\e. was only to endear Sam to h!'P11 still more; which was evinced by his saying: "Sammy. my boy, that settles it. I hain't chick nor child of my own You two has got to be my children arter this. I'll take care of ye both." And wh en Katinka heard him she tried to smile. and said: -"lf you h a d been h<"re it would not have happ e ned captain. Oh, my poor papa!" CHAPTER XIX. A GARDEN IN THE OCEAN. The two boats, after this strange meeting, continued on their course toward the dark lines of sea-weed, and discovered that they were by no me a ns unbroken. Broad chann e l s and river s opened out of the depths of the mass of floating weeds, and into one of these channels the adventurers saiJ..-d. Sammy remarking: knows what we may find in here, cap? Mebbe another island. "That ain't lik e ly, Sammy," replied the captain. "There ain't not hen but floatin' weeds hereabout, and no one comes here if they kin help themselves."
PAGE 29
, 28 BRA VE AND BOLD. As ht! said this they had ehtered orte of the broad cha1111els, and were saili11g along through an apparently solid mass of sea-weeds, over which myriads 0 seabirds were hovering. Katinka heard the captain's words, and asked: "Why do they not come here, captain? To me everything is so ver'] beautiful--0h, so lovely I" The enthusiasm of the child was pardonablt, for they seemed to have entered a part of the ocean which was swarming with animal life of all kinds. The birds were winging their way to and fro over the masses of sea-weed, alighting on it as i it had been dry land; and the people in the boat could see myriads of nests, with the young birds putting out tlteir necks to be fed by the mothers. In the channel itself fish were sporting, close beside the boat; close that one might almost have touched them, seeming to have no ear whatever of the strange intruders i while the spout ing of whales, and the hoarse bark of sea-lions, showed that the grassy sea was a haven of refuge for more than one species of sea rover. But Captain Andrews was only thinking' of the future, and ht replied to Katinka, tather crossly: "Why don t they come here, child? Why, that's easy enough to see. Who w;i.nts to get stuck in the weeds all his life? There ain't nothen but Weeds, weeds, weeds, along this way, for hun and hundreds of miles. To be sure a man might live here, if he could get fresh water, somehow or other ; .but--" "What's that but land?" suddenly interrupted Sanmly, poittting to a moitnd in the midst of the seaweed, apparently about five miles off, but perceptibly higher than the rest. Andrews turned that way to look, and answered: "It ain't qothen at all. If it was n some one would have fotmd it out long ago--" "Like they did the other?" asked Sammy, slyly. like they must the other, some day," rl'torted the cap tain, sharply, for he felt irritable after his week's loss of sleep. "That ain't no island, and the sooner we git out of these weeds the better It might be for us, Sammy. They might close in on us, if the cur.rent happens to change." ."Look ahere, cap," replied Sammy, soothingly, "you're jest dead for sleep, you are; and the sooner you go to sleep the better for you. I'll give ye a tow, and when ye wake up we won't be in this here place any Come, what d'ye say?" Andre)VS would have objected, but his weariness had become too great to be overcome. He fell asleej} over his helm, and tor another period of six or eight hours knew nothing of what ',was going on Qround him. When he cllme to himself at la9t, he found that the boat was drawn up on shore and that he had put under the shade of sort ie palm trees, while all around him grew othe r palms and a profusion of vegetation, that sho\\1ed hih1 he had been brought to an island in the tropics. Rcusihg hil'l1self frotn his slumbers. he beheld Sammy attd J(a tirtka at a little distance away bending over a fire, from which came the savory fumes cf fish. r!he captain rose tO g feet, tubbing: his eyes, and found that the island was in 1111dst of the Grassy Sea. and could only he distinguished from it by a difference of colot, save in one place. All around the island tile seaweed was piled Oh the beach, as if it had served as a )\ucleus on which to accumulate: but there was one channel, looking perfectly black, in its contrast with the rest. The island was thore than a mile broad, and three or fou r miles long. but perfectly devoid of ricks, being only a Sandbank that had been rais e d above the sea-weed by some means or other and. had become covered with palms. banana's, and other tropical vege tation iri'lhe course of many years. captain surveyc(i the scene thoughtfully. and finally went up to the fire, where he found Sammy arid Katinka j u$t finishing frying a splendid slab of fish, cut from an albicore at least four feet long, the rest of which lay on the beach beside thettl. "Salllrily," said the "it is an island artet' all. Have ye found any water yet?" "Slathers of it, cap," the youngster replied. "Katinka artd me, we dug a hole and the watet is jest as fre s h as if we was at home. There is the well if ye want to drink, c;ap. Thue's ro'k under neath." "How do you know that'" asked the captain. "Dug down and found it," was the reply, as Sammy pointed to a place at a dista11ce where a heap 0 sand had been tossed tip around a hole. Andrews went there to l ook, and found that the boy had dug a hole about three feet in diameter. and nearly six feet down in the sand, at the bottom of which lay a pool of water, perfectly clear. The water was so transparent that the bottom was plainiy dis cernible, and Andrews beheld the rugge d surface of a rock, with little heaps of sand here and there, while the 1vatet was slo"ly flowing in a thin stream from one corner into the middle of. the basin. The tin cup of the Dark Sacret lay beside this basin, and Andrews tasted the w<1ter and round it perfectly cold and deliciously fresh. Eviderltly the sand of which the island was composed had been formed, in th e course of ages, on the top of a mountain that came up from the bott o m of the sea, and only the circumstance that it was in the midst of the Grassy Sea, had hidden it from so long. The captain became vety thoughtful during the meal that followed, and enjoyed the albicore amazingly. This fish is a member of the same family as our bluefish, but measures frorT) four to six feet in length, and is rarely found out of the tropical regions. Asking where Samt y got it, he heard the story that the. fis h had leaped out of t.he water1 in play, upon. the. seaweed so far that Sam had concc11ed the tdea of harpoon111g It before 1t could \vrif;(gle back into the sea. He had made a harpoon of the boat hook, and succeeded in capturirtg the creature at the first attempt. "And there's slathers of them a doin' the same, all the time, he went on; "and all we have to do is to watch for 'em, cap, and get all the fish we want to eat for the rest of our lives." lie took Andrews down to place itl the island, at the edge of the dark cham1el. and showed him where it seemed to be a habit of the fis'1 to come to play, a11d jump ont of the watl'T, on the thick beds of sea \Veed. Frequently leaped so far that it took them over a 11'\inttte to find their way batk. and a skillful har pooner, by standing on the shote at a certain place, could take them as fast as they jumped, without being observed from the water. Aiter breakfast Andrews. took a walk ovet the islat1d, being very thoughtful during the time, and saying but little whik Sammy and Katinka seented to he completely bap(>y at getting out of the boat, and into such a garden of beauty, in the midst of the OCl'atl. At last, when they had completely explored the island, Andrews surprised the children by asking: ''How would you like to tay here, while I went on to Yurrup, quarrelin' ?" Sammy loohd at Katinka. and the girl returned the glance with a s111ile alid the obserrnrion: \Venever tJuarrel. Sammy and I. He a good boy." "'J he!\ this here is \Vhat 1 propose,': the captain. "Y c ] don't like tc leave you childri>n tln the oceati, Mw I\ e fottnd ye; and l don't want to take ye with me, to no other storm. What I propose is to l eave you ofi this i land. where Y<' rt1igh1 live fof a hundred mote, afltl never want for nothen. while l go on and git to Queenstown. How will that suit )'Ou?" Samthy hesitated a minute, and then looked at Katinka. Finally he said, slowly: "It will be all right as fur as I'm concerned, cap; but this here young lady, ye know, is a prin(:ess; and she ntight want to git back to her own folks, after a while." "Ah, but you ta lk foolishly.'' exclalmed Katinka. "vVhat friend have I, wlwn my grandfather was a Nihilist, and banished from his coUt\try? l1a!'li content to stay en lhis i,sland f01'ever, if no way can be found to go from it. All but when winter comes, with the snow. I do not know that I should like that." ''But there w
PAGE 30
BRA VE AND BOLD. by no means as light as it had been when he started. The ter rible storms had shaken his confidence that he should reach the other side in the little dory. Sammy and Katinka remained on the island, and saw the white sail disappear over the edge of the horizon after which they turned to the interior of the island, and set to work to make themselves comfortable; for they knew not how long they might' have to stay. It had been agreed between them and Andrews that the latter was to call for them o n his way back to America, if he did not get his boat upset in the meantime It was the ambition of Sammy to so occupy his time that, when the captain returned, he should find the island in a position to offer him a dwelling for the rest of hi life He had confided his design to Katinka, and the two children thought it would be delightful to surprise Andrews when he came back by showing him a home on the island. For the first two or three d
PAGE 31
BRA VE AND BOLD. "Well, that is all right then. No, I have not se e n the man. Do you know who I am, and what is going to be done with you, boy?" Sammy shook his head, and Katinka drew a little closer to him and took his hand, as if to comfort him, a s the black cap tain said: "L am Captain the Marquis of Marmalade, commanding the cruiser Black Liberty, of the Haytian Republic, and my orders are to take all the white prisoners that I can catch and bring them home to Hayti, to be sold as slaves in the interior. You two will make excellent slaves for my personal se. Can you clean boots, young man?" Sammy hesitated a moment, and the captain, observing it, said: "That is well. Whether you have ever d one it before or not, you shall learn to do it now. I appoint you my chief bootblack, and the young girl shall wait on my wife, who is downstairs in the cabin. If you make any mi s takes about the boots it will be the worse for you my boy, for we black men remember well the way you used to give it to us when our fathers were slaves." Then holding up a formidable-looking wh ip, he add ed: "There is nothing like the lash to bring a white man to obedience, and make him behave himself. Do you not agree with me white boy?" Sam trembled with indignation, but realized that it would not do to show what he felt. Captain Andrews w as no longer there to protect him, and the brown captain added, smilingly: "The whio is the best of all teachers." CHAPTER XXL THE HAYTIAN'. Poor Sam Short and Katinka had no resort but submission to the whims of their black captors, and their condition soon be came very miserable. The Black Liberty turned out to be a vessel of a character that Sam had never dreamed of as a possibility before; a black slaver on the hunt for wh i te slaves. She sailed away from the Sara gossa Sea, and stretched off .to the north for seve ral days, avoid' ing large ships, but always coming up to any small craft that could be found These vessels, whether fishing boats, traders or what not, were always scuttled, and thei r crews seized and thrown into the hold of the big schooner, where they were ironeci to the ribs of the B l ack Liberty, in the same way in which black slaves were formerly ironed down in the holds of slavers. Som Short was kept in the cabin to black the capta i n's boots, wait on the table, and obey every order of the black steward. who gave him cuffs and kicks on the slightest provocation Katinka, more h a ppy, was sent to the stnn c2bin, to wait on the wife of the captain-a brown lady with very h andsome features, wh
PAGE 32
BRAVE AND BOLD. 31 the captain in that. brief moment. Even while the black men were carrying him bodily to the mast to be subjected to a degrading punishment, Andi-ews cried: "I'll navigate the schooner, cap, and be glad to do it. I'm tired of being alon.e in that boat." "Aha!" cried Marmalade, with a triumphant laugh, "we have brought you tQ your senses, have we? Then come down to the cabin He resumed his polite dt>meanor as he spoke, and proceeded .-\ndrews into the cabin. where the Bostonian found a very hand some brown lady, dressed in scarlet and yellow silk, with a pro fusion of ornaments. She regarded Andrews very closely, and he. struck by the beauty of this bronze Ven us, returned the gaze so earnestly, that Marmalade rapped on the table, and said sternly: "White dog, look this way, or I'll have you whipped." Andrews did not even flush this time He had regained that c o mplete control of his features which is peculiar to a Bostonian, and m e rely shrugged his and asked: "\ii/ ell. captain, what am 1 to do?" The marquis shoved him OVJ!r a sheet of paper, and pointing to some figures thereon, saic:l: "There are the figures of the altitude I took to-day at noon, and there is the a lman<1,c. Work the l atitude and longitude, and remember the result will decide your future in this schooner. a mistake and you will be taken to the mines in Hayti, where no white ma11 fn;e, and kept there till you die. Suc ceed, and T will make :vou navigator of this schooner, and_ you shall live in the cabin. G t0 work." With that he le.ft t he cabin, and Andrews began his work in the style of a man who .t1nderstood it, while the brown marchioness watched hiJn furtively till he had finished. Whe n he at la st l ooked lip he had made his calculations, and had pricked the place of the schooner on the chart, and the mar chiotless said in a soft voke: "You half find de place, sare ?" Andrews could not help a smile, as he replied: "vVhy. yes, madam; that is easy enough." "Oh, sare," she said, suddenly, in a low voice, glancing ap prehensively at the d o or, ''you are capable of navigating dis sc hooner. Vat you say to be captaine yourself?" She whispered the last words, and Andrews, starting, realized that she meant what she said, as she continue.cl in a still lower whisper. glancing at the door all the time: "Hush! he vi i keel tis if he find out. He is a tereeble man, and he make all the vite man slave. My fader was vite man, and I lofe de vite. Ve sall half a rising, and you sail be captaine. 1 am tire of living wid black man aJI de time. I crave a shange. Hush! de boy shall tell de rest at night." With that she turned away her head and busietl herself in a h o ok as the brown captain entered the cabin from the deck en tirely unsuspicious of what was going on. The brown lady had turned against the btown gentleman. CHAPTER XXIL Tl!E RrSIN'G. From that moment Captain William A. Andrews ielt that he had come to the mouth of a volcano, which might bnrst at any time. His work at the reckoning of the schooner pleased the marquis so well, that the Bostonian received complete control of the instruments, and soon found the reason for the eagerness of the brown captain to be relieved from the trouble. The :'.\Iarquis of Marmalade was the only brown man on board capable of taking_ an observation, and he was excessively fond of drinking. He had enough common sense to know that, if he got drunk, he could not keep )lis. schooner from shipwreck, and he had therefore seized on Andrews to do that portion of the work, so that he might get drunk as much as he pleased. The very next day he and all the crew of the Black Liberty began to drink, and by the end of the day got so drunk thatlthe guidance of the schooner was left to Andrews and Sam, while the black men danced aud sung, and howled them s elves hoarse over a rum barrel. In the meantime the pri s oners in the hold were miserably treated and 11eglected by the black sail o rs, till next day the brown captain said to Andrews. with a drunken leer: "I am going to make you while dogs take care of your friends now. ::VIy men tell me that the:r stand the bad smell of these white prisoners in th e hold, and have struck against taking them down any more food and drink. You don't mind the bad smell, because you have it yotirselves. It is a curious thing how white men never know how hadly they till we tell them. Come, now. you and your children there can go down hereafter and feed the white slaves till we get to Hayti. I want them all fat and hearty." Sam and the captain did as they were told, and found the prisoners in the hold in a shocking condition, and for revenge. They were compose\i of English, French, Spamsh and Italian seamen, from all sorts of craft, who had been snapped up by the schooner and confined in filth and hunger, till they were ready to die. Assured that there was a chance of a rising, they agreed to obey the signal whenever it should be given Thus matters went on till the morning of the fifteenth of August, when the Marchiones s of ::VIarmalade came to Andrews as he sat in the cabin working the reckoning, and said to him, in a low voice: "Tho hol!r has come. You shall kill this brown man, and I will make you king of the s ea. Take this." She handed him a key and continued hurrjedly: "Dat viii unlock de irons of de mans in the hold. Marmalade viii be drank, and all viii be drank. I half put de stuff in deir liquor. De arms of de guard are i'n de rack by de n1ast, and de rest you must do for yourself. Dat is all." With that sh e vanished in her own cabin, and the rest of that day was devoted by Sam and the captain to carrying out their plots. How they succeeded could be judged by what took place that evening at sunset. The Marquis of as drunk as a lord, was sitting by the cabin table, with his head resting on his arms, fast asleep, when the marchioness rushed in and shook him, screaming excitedly: "Alphonse, Alphonse, the prisoners are rising!" She did i t as a te s t of his s lumber, and the test was dedsive. The drunken man only rolled his head from side to side on his -arms, and growled, sullenly : "Lea' me 'lone. Ge' out!" A,fter which he composed himself again to slumber. Then she turned arid nodded to Andrews, saying: "The time has come. Do your work." Ten minutes later all the prisoners in the hold we.re r eleased and armed, while the drunken sailors of the schooner, sleepirlg off debauch in all sorts of places, were ironed without the least trouhle, and control of the Liberte Noire had changed hands. The capt:;i.in hims.elf, as he lay there in a drunke.n stupor, was handcuffed and chained to his chair; and then Captain Andrews took his place in the cabin, having assigned the rescued pris oners to different watches, and said to the brown marchioness: "Now, madam, we owe you our liberty. Tell us what you wish us to do. This vessel is a pirate in reality, and if we take it into any civilized port the black men wiH all be hung. Do you wish that?" "No," she said, with a peculiar smile at the captain, which he did not at first understand. ''You do not see vat I mean. If dey had taken you to Hayti dey vould haf land you in a dark night, and sell you into de interior to work in de mine and on de sugar plantation. Now you haf d em. Vy not sell dem yourself, and make de money? Den ve roam de sea, and you be l<:ing and I be queen." The w o rthy captain was so much surprised and shocked at the cool depravity of this beautiful bronze lady that for a few 1110ments he could hardly s peak. vVhen he got his breath, he re-marked: "But black slavery is abolished, marchiohess. V1ie cannot sell these black men if we wis hed to. Besides, there is another thing to consider. W <.' have no right to do it. We should be come pretty fair imitations of pirates ourselves. On the whole, the best thing we can do is to carry this schooner into the nearest port and have her condemned as a pirate and sold for the benefit of the prisoners, who haYe l o>t their different ve ss els. The brown lady ins ta n tly flew into a terrible rage and accused the captain o f betray ing her. He owed his life,, and liberty to
PAGE 33
I 32 BR A V E AND BOLD. her, she said, and she was determined not to let go the chance of so much money. There were plenty of countries left yet where they kept slaves, and she was going to oi'te of them. If the captain did not like it, one of the prison e rs might be more accommodating. And with that she began to use her eyes on the other men with such good effect that, by the evening of the next day, they came to Andrews in a body and told him that they had made up their minds to turn pirates and make the brown lady their queen If the honest captain did not like it he could lump it; but if he be haved himself he might be captain and navigate the schooner. This the captain positively refused to do, and inasmuch as there was no one else on board the schooner who could navigate except the brown Ma r malade, who was now in irons and thirsty for revenge, a compromise finally was agreed to. Andrews agreed that if the men who had seized the schooner would permit him to land the children on the island from which they had been taken and turn hims e lf again afloat in the Darlz Secret, he would agree, on his part, never to betray the name and identity of the schooner, and would p ermit them to pursue their career in any way they pleased. This they finally agreed to, and turned the head of the schooner toward the island of palms in the Saragossa Sea. On the morning of the next day the Black Liberty sailed away from Palm Island leaving the children there, in the house in which they had to wait for Captain William A. An drews. The worthy captain landed with the children. and as the sails of the sc hoon e r disapp ea red on the horizon, he said to Sam: "Now, my boy, we are safe for the present. I t oo k care not to give the people on that schooner the true latitude and longi tude, and as soon as they are fairly out of sight, they will have lost us for good. We hold the secret of two island s in the ocean, of which no one else know s and the questio n now will be how to use the knowl edge for your benefit. I have determin e d to adopt you two chi)dr e n for my own, and come and live wjth you, on this i s land, for the r est o f my life; but th e re are man'y things to get before we can be comfortable. To get those th'ngs I have to return to America, and I am going to do it for your sakes." The children listened with much interest. and Sam asked: "What! Do you mean that yoi1 are going to give up your voy age to Europe, in the Dark Sec1et?" "Sammy, I am," was the grave reply. Then seeing that the children did not fully und e rstand what he was doing, he added: "It's a hard thing to do. to give up this voyage, Sammy. If I only get to the other sid e-and there ain't a d o ubt but what I can do it, if I stick to it long enough-my fortune is made. There ain't a hall in Loncto n would hold the crowds that woulrl come to hear me lecmre The man that crosses the Atlantic in a twelve-foot dory ain't to b e duplicated, and his fortune is made. J1.ll this fortune I am going to give up, just for your sake, Sammy and Katinka." "And why?" ask e d Katinka, staring at him with her big, dark eyes, in her innocent, childish fashion. "Just to be able to get back home, and start afresh, with things to make a regular skady settlement on tl1is the captain replied. "If I keep on th e way to Yurrup, it'll be six weeks more at least, before I get the r e and I won't be able to get out of the lecturing engagement. I've made up my mind what to do." "And what is it?" asked Sam. "I'm going to put out into the tracks of ships, and make to be picked up by the first vessel that's going to New York," was the reply. I won't go to the other side in anything but the Dark Secret; but I'll go back with her, and make everybody think I've given up the idea of getting to Yurrup in her. Then, whe n they 'v e all forgotten all about me and my boat, I 'll load up, and come to you, children, with all the things we want for a steady settlement, and we'll live here for the rest of our lives. What do you say to that?" What could they say, but thank the self-sacrifi c ing mariner for his words, and promise to wait for him till he cam e back. The rest of the day, after the schooner had disappeared, was de voted to making the house on Palm Island habitable and com fortable, and then the Secret spread her sail once more, and stretched away to the northeast. A s the island faded from sight the gallant captain heaved a sigh and remarked: "Adieu to fame for another year. But I shall have two de voted child r e n, instead of fame, 11nd need not complain." It was on Friday, August 17th, that the Dark S ecre t left the hidden isl a nd of palms, and on the 18th and 19th the sea was smooth and pleasant, with a stiff breeze from the northwest, un der which the b oa t ran merrily along. The captain had set out his drag as usua l for the night of the r8th, running only in the day-time, and practically being at anchor in the darkness; only subject to a little drift. He woke up unrefreshed. for he h ad been disturb('d a goo
PAGE 34
A NEW IDEA! C/3RA VE AND BOL ClJ Street & Smlth's New Weekly is a big Depar ture 'ram anything ever Published Be,ore. EACH NUMBE CONT A/NS A COMPLETE STORY AND STO R IES ARE OF E VERY KIN D That means all / descriptions of :first class stories. For every story published in BRAVE AND BOLD will be :first-class in the best sense-written by a well-known boys author, full of rattling incident and lively adventure and brimming with interest from cover to cover. No matter what k i n d o f a boy yo u are, no matter what your tastes are, no matter what kind of a story you prefer, you will hail BRAVE AND BoLD w ith delight as soon as you see it. It is the kind of a weekly you h ave been wishing for. Variety is the spice of life, and Brave and Bold is well seasoned with it. STORIES O F ADVENTURE. STORIES OF MYSTERY. STORIES O F EXPLO= RATION I UNKNOWN LANDS STORIE S OF LIFE I N GREAT Cl T ES STOR I ES OF W ONDERFUL INVENTION S No. I -One Boy in a 11housand; or, Yankee to the Backbone B y Fred No 2.-Among the Malays; or, The Mystery of The Haunted Isle. By Cornelius Shea. No. 3.-The Diamond Tattoo or, Dick Hardy's Fight for a Fortune. By rl. Boyln to No. 4.-The Bo y Balloonists; m ; Among Weird Polar People. B y Frank Sheridan. No. 5.-The Spotted Si x ; or, The M ystery of Calvert Hathaway. By Fred Thorpe , ..... No. 6.-The Winged Demon; or, The Gold Kidg of tti t Y ukon. By W. C Patten. :. ,. ::: . . /, No. 7 -StolenA School-house; or, Sport and Strife at Still River. B y E A. Young. No. 8.-The Sea-Wanderer; or, The Cruise of the Submarine Boat. By Cornelius Shea. No 9.-The Dark Secret; or, Sam Short, the Bo y Stowaway. By Launce Poyntz. No. 10.-The King of the Air; or, Lo s t In the Sar gasso Sea. By Howard Hoskins. No. 11. -The Young Sil ver Hunters; or, The Lost City of the Andes. By Cornelius Shea. No 12.A Remarkable Voyage; or, The Fortunes 'lf d Wandering Jack. By Captain a .. -... t' ii ol vered t which, rld from knowing their ect paradises of rest for Copies of the Brave and Bold Weekly may be purchased for....._ y \ STREET & Ml Newsdealers, or from SjffT!f, 238 William n "King of the Air; Of, Street N< Haskins. An up-to-date ..... ----------""""'------------------,..ention-took several boys. ; r air. up if you want it at all. i as issued, for it is just the .. .... :
|