CHAPTER XXIII

  HIS PRESENT SHARE

  With four trips a day from the caves to the cove, taking time for rests,for regular meals, and for sleep, and not working on Sundays,--for hekept a diary and an account of days,--the captain succeeded in a littleover three weeks in loading his bags of guano, each with a package ofgolden bars, some of which must have weighed as much as fifteen pounds.

  When this work had been accomplished, he began to consider the return ofthe schooner. But he had no reason to expect her yet, and he determinedto continue his work. Each day he brought eight canvas bags of gold fromthe caves, and making them up into small bundles, he buried them in thesand under his tent. When a full month had elapsed since the departureof the schooner, he began to be very prudent, keeping a careful lookoutseaward, as he walked the beach, and never entering the caves withoutmounting a high point of the rocks and thoroughly scanning the ocean.If, when bearing his burden of gold, he should have seen a sail, hewould have instantly stopped and buried his bags in the sand, whereverhe might be.

  Day after day passed, and larger and larger grew the treasure stored inthe sands under the tent, but no sail appeared. Sometimes the captaincould not prevent evil fancies coming to him. What if the ship shouldnever come back? What if no vessel should touch here for a year or two?And why should a vessel ever touch? When the provisions he had broughtand those left in the Rackbirds' storehouse had been exhausted, whatcould he do but lie down here and perish?--another victim added to themillions who had already perished from the thirst of gold. He thought ofhis little party in San Francisco. They surely would send in search ofhim, if he did not appear in a reasonable time. But he felt this hopewas a vain one. In a letter to Edna, written from Lima, he had told hershe must not expect to hear from him for a long time, for, while he wasdoing the work he contemplated, it would be impossible for him tocommunicate with her.

  She would have no reason to suppose that he would start on such anexpedition without making due arrangements for safety and support, andso would hesitate long before she would commission a vessel to touchat this point in search of him. If he should starve here, he would diemonths before any reasonable person, who knew as much of his affairsas did Edna, would think the time had arrived to send a reliefexpedition for him.

  But he did not starve. Ten days overdue, at last the Chilianschooner appeared and anchored in the cove. She had now no white menon board but the captain and his mate, for the negroes had improvedso much in seamanship that the economical captain had dispensed withhis Chilian crew.

  Captain Horn was delighted to be able to speak again to a fellow-being,and it pleased him far better to see Maka than any of the others.

  "You no eat 'nough, cap'n," said the black man, as he anxiously scannedthe countenance of Captain Horn, which, although the captain was inbetter physical condition than perhaps he had ever been in his life, wasthinner than when Maka had seen it last. "When I cook for you, you not solong face," the negro continued. "Didn't us leave you 'nough to eat? Didyou eat 'em raw?"

  The captain laughed. "I have had plenty to eat," he said, "and I neverfelt better. If I had not taken exercise, you would have found me as fatas a porpoise."

  The interview with the Chilian captain was not so cordial, for CaptainHorn found that the Chilian had not brought him a full cargo of bags ofguano, and, by searching questions, he discovered that this was dueentirely to unnecessary delay in beginning to load the vessel. TheChilian declared he would have taken on board all the guano whichCaptain Horn had purchased at the smaller island, had he not begun tofear that Captain Horn would suffer if he did not soon return to him,and when he thought it was not safe to wait any longer, he had sailedwith a partial cargo.

  Captain Horn was very angry, for every bag of guano properly packed withgold bars meant, at a rough estimate, between two and three thousanddollars if it safely reached a gold-market, and now he found himself withat least one hundred bags less than he had expected to pack. There was notime to repair this loss, for the English vessel, the _Finland,_ fromCallao to Acapulco, which the captain had engaged to stop at this pointon her next voyage northward, might be expected in two or three weeks,certainly sooner than the Chilian could get back to the guano island andreturn. In fact, there was barely time for that vessel to reach Callaobefore the departure of the _Finland_, on board of which the captainwished his negroes to be placed, that they might go home with him.

  "If I had any men to work my vessel," said the Chilian, who had grownsurly in consequence of the fault-finding, "I'd leave your negroes here,and cut loose from the whole business. I've had enough of it."

  "That serves you right for discharging your own men in order that youmight work your vessel with mine," said Captain Horn. He had intended toinsist that the negroes should ship again with the Chilian, but he knewthat it would be more difficult to find reasons for this than on theprevious voyage, and he was really more than glad to find that the matterhad thus arranged itself.

  Talking with Captain Horn, the Chilian mate, who had had noresponsibility in this affair, and who was, consequently, not out ofhumor, proposed that he should go back with them, and take the Englishvessel at Callao.

  "I can't risk it," said Captain Horn. "If your schooner should meetwith head winds or any other bad luck, and the _Finland_ should leavebefore I got there, there would be a pretty kettle of fish, and if shetouched here and found no one in charge, I don't believe she would takeaway a bag."

  "Do you think they will be sure to touch here?" asked the mate. "Havethey got the latitude and longitude? It didn't seem so bad before toleave you behind, because we were coming back, but now it strikes me itis rather a risky piece of business for you."

  "No," said Captain Horn. "I am acquainted with the skipper of the_Finland,_ and I left a letter for him telling him exactly how the matterstood, and he knows that I trust him to pick me up. I do not suppose hewill expect to find me here all alone, but if he gives me the slip, Iwould be just as likely to starve to death if I had some men with me asif I were alone. The _Finland_ will stop--I am sure of that."

  With every reason for the schooner's reaching Callao as soon as possible,and very little reason, considering the uncordial relations of the twocaptains, for remaining in the cove, the Chilian set sail the morningafter he had discharged his unsavory cargo. Maka had begged harder thanbefore to be allowed to remain with Captain Horn, but the latter had madehim understand, as well as he could, the absolute necessity of theschooner reaching Callao in good time, and the absolute impossibility ofany vessel doing anything in good time without a cook. Therefore, after apersonal inspection of the stores left behind, both in the tent and inthe Rackbirds' storehouse, which latter place he visited with greatsecrecy, Maka, with a sad heart, was obliged to leave the only realfriend he had on earth.

  When, early the next morning, Captain Horn began to pack the newlyarrived bags with the bundles of gold which he had buried in the sand, hefound that the bags were not at all in the condition of those thefilling of which he had supervised himself. Some of these were moreheavily filled than others, and many were badly fastened up. This, ofcourse, necessitated a good deal of extra work, but the captain sadlythought that probably he would have more time than he needed to do allthat was necessary to get this second cargo into fair condition fortransportation. He had checked off his little bundles as he had buriedthem, and there were nearly enough to fill all the bags. In fact, he hadto make but three more trips in order to finish the business.

  When the work was done, and everything was ready for the arrival of the_Finland_, the captain felt that he had good reason to curse theconscienceless Chilian whose laziness or carelessness had not only causedhim the loss of perhaps a quarter of a million of dollars, but had givenhim days--how many he could not know--with nothing to do; and which ofthese two evils might prove the worse, the captain could not readilydetermine.

  As Captain Horn walked up and down the long double rows of bags whichcontained what he hoped would become his fo
rtune, he could not prevent afeeling of resentful disappointment when he thought of the smallproportion borne by the gold in these bags to the treasure yet remainingin the mound. On his last visit to the mound he had carefully examinedits interior, and although, of course, there was a great diminution inits contents, there was no reason to believe that the cavity of the mounddid not extend downward to the floor of the cave, and that it remainedpacked with gold bars to the depth of several feet. It seemed silly,crazy, in fact, almost wicked, for him to sail away in the _Finland_ andleave all that gold behind, and yet, how could he possibly take away anymore of it?

  He had with him a trunk nearly empty, in which he might pack someblankets and other stuff with some bags of gold stowed away between them,but more than fifty pounds added to the weight of the trunk and itscontents would make it suspiciously heavy, and what was fifty pounds outof that vast mass? But although he puzzled his brains for the greaterpart of a day, trying to devise some method by which he could take awaymore gold without exciting the suspicions of the people on board theEnglish vessel, there was no plan that entered his mind that did notcontain elements of danger, and the danger was an appalling one. If thecrew of the _Finland_, or the crew of any other vessel, should, on thisdesert coast, get scent of a treasure mound of gold ingots, he might aswell attempt to reason with wild beasts as to try to make them understandthat that treasure belonged to him. If he could get away with any of it,or even with his life, he ought to be thankful.

  The captain was a man who, since he had come to an age of maturity, hadbeen in the habit of turning his mind this way and that as he would turnthe helm of his vessel, and of holding it to the course he haddetermined upon, no matter how strong the wind or wave, how dense thefog, or how black the night. But never had he stood to his helm as henow stood to a resolve.

  "I will bring away a couple of bags," said he, "to put in my trunk, andthen, I swear to myself, I will not think another minute about carryingaway any more of that gold than what is packed in these guano-bags. If Ican ever come back, I will come back, but what I have to do now is to getaway with what I have already taken out of the mound, and also to getaway with sound reason and steady nerves."

  The next day there was not a sail on the far horizon, and the captainbrought away two bags of gold. These, with some clothes, he packed in hisempty trunk.

  "Now," said he, "this is my present share. If I permit myself to think oftaking another bar, I shall be committing a crime."