The Adventures of Captain Horn

  CHAPTER XXXIX

  SHIRLEY SPIES A SAIL

  When the _Arato_ changed her mind about going to Callao, and sailedsouthward some five days after the _Miranda_ had started on the samecourse, she had very good weather for the greater part of a week, andsailed finely. Cardatas, who owned a share in her, had sailed upon her asfirst mate, but he had never before commanded her. He was a goodnavigator, however, and well fitted for the task he had undertaken. Hewas a sharp fellow, and kept his eyes on everybody, particularly uponNunez, who, although a landsman, and in no wise capable of sailing aship, was perfectly capable of making plans regarding any vessel in whichhe was interested, especially when such a vessel happened to be sailingin pursuit of treasure, the value of which was merely a matter ofconjecture. It was not impossible that the horse-dealer, who had embarkedmoney in this venture, might think that one of the mariners on boardmight be able to sail the schooner as well as Cardatas, and would notexpect so large a share of the profits should the voyage be successful.But when the storms came on, Nunez grew sick and unhappy, and retiredbelow, and he troubled the mind of Cardatas no more for the present.

  The _Arato_ sailed well with a fair wind, but in many respects she wasnot as good a sea-boat in a storm as the _Miranda_ had proved to be, andshe had been obliged to lie to a great deal through the days and nightsof high winds and heavy seas. Having never had, until now, theresponsibility of a vessel upon him, Cardatas was a good deal morecautious and prudent, perhaps, than Captain Horn would have been had hebeen in command of the _Arato_. Among other methods of precaution whichCardatas thought it wise to take, he steered well out from the coast, andthus greatly lengthened his course, and at last, when a clearing skyenabled him to take an observation, he found himself so far to thewestward that he changed his course entirely and steered for thesoutheast.

  Notwithstanding all these retarding circumstances, Cardatas did notdespair of overhauling the _Miranda_. He was sure she would make for theStraits, and he did not in the least doubt that, with good winds, hecould overtake her before she reached them, and even if she did get outof them, he could still follow her. His belief that the _Arato_ couldsail two miles to the _Miranda's_ one was still unshaken. The only realfear he had was that the _Miranda_ might have foundered in the storm. Ifthat should happen to be the case, their voyage would be a losing one,indeed, but he said nothing of his fears to Nunez.

  The horse-dealer was now on deck again, in pretty fair condition, but hewas beginning to be despondent. After such an awful storm, and in allthat chaos of waves, what chance was there of finding a little brig suchas they were after?

  "But vessels sail in regular courses," Cardatas said to him. "They don'tgo meandering all over the ocean. If they are bound for any particularplace, they go there on the shortest safe line they can lay down on themap. We can go on that line, too, although we may be thrown out of it bystorms. But we can strike it again, and then all we have to do is to keepon it as straight as we can, and we are bound to overtake another vesselon the same course, provided we sail faster than she does. It is allplain enough, don't you see?"

  Nunez could not help seeing, but he was a little cross, nevertheless. Themap and the ocean were wonderfully different.

  The wind had changed, and the _Arato_ did not make very good sailing onher southeastern course. High as was her captain's opinion of her, shenever had sailed, nor ever could sail, two miles to the _Miranda's_ one,although she was a good deal faster than the brig. But she was fairlywell handled, and in due course of time she approached so near the coastthat her lookout sighted land, which land Cardatas, consulting hischart, concluded must be one of the Patagonian islands to the north ofthe Gulf of Penas.

  As night came on, Cardatas determined to change his course somewhat tothe south, as he did not care to trust himself too near the coast,when suddenly the lookout reported a light on the port bow. Cardatashad sailed down this coast before, but he had never heard of alighthouse in the region, and with his glass he watched the light. Buthe could not make it out. It was a strange light, for sometimes it wasbright and sometimes dull, then it would increase greatly and almostfade away again.

  "It looks like a fire on shore," said he, and some of the other men whotook the glass agreed with him.

  "And what does that mean?" asked Nunez.

  "I don't know," replied Cardatas, curtly. "How should I? But one thing Ido know, and that is that I shall lie to until morning, and then we canfeel our way near to the coast and see what it does mean."

  "But what do you want to know for?" asked Nunez. "I suppose somebody onshore has built a fire. Is there any good stopping for that? We have losta lot of time already."

  "I am going to lie to, anyway," said Cardatas. "When we are on suchbusiness as ours, we should not pass anything without understanding it."

  Cardatas had always supposed that these islands were uninhabited, and hecould not see why anybody should be on one of them making a fire, unlessit were a case of shipwreck. If a ship had been wrecked, it was not atall impossible that the _Miranda_ might be the unfortunate vessel. In anycase, it would be wise to lie to, and look into the matter by daylight.If the _Miranda_ had gone down at sea, and her crew had reached land inboats, the success of the _Arato's_ voyage would be very dubious. Andshould this misfortune have happened, he must be careful about Nunez whenhe came to hear of it. When he turned into his hammock that night,Cardatas had made up his mind that, if he should discover that the_Miranda_ had gone to the bottom, it would be a very good thing ifarrangements could be made for Nunez to follow her.

  That night the crew of the Miranda slept well and enjoyed the first realrest they had had since the storm. No watch was kept, for they allthought it would be an unnecessary hardship. The captain awoke at earlydawn, and, as he stepped out of the tent, he glanced over sea and land.There were no signs of storm, the brig had not slipped out into deepwater, their boats were still high and dry upon the beach, and there wassomething encouraging in the soft, early light and the pleasant morningair. He was surprised, however, to find that he was not the first manout. On a piece of higher ground, a little back from the tents, Shirleywas standing, a glass to his eye.

  "What do you see?" cried the captain.

  "A sail!" returned Shirley.

  At this every man in the tents came running out. Even to the negroes thewords, "A sail," had the startling effect which they always have uponship-wrecked men.

  The effect upon Captain Horn was a strange one, and he could scarcelyunderstand it himself. It was amazing that succor, if succor it shouldprove to be, had arrived so quickly after their disaster. Butnot-withstanding the fact that he would be overjoyed to be taken off thatdesolate coast, he could not help a strong feeling of regret that a sailhad appeared so soon. If they had had time to conceal their treasure, allmight have been well. With the bags of gold buried in a trench, orcovered with sand so as to look like a natural mound, he and his sailorsmight have been taken off merely as shipwrecked sailors, and carried tosome port where he might charter another vessel and come back after hisgold. But now he knew that whoever landed on this beach must knoweverything, for it would be impossible to conceal the contents of thatlong pile of bags, and what consequences might follow upon such knowledgeit was impossible for him to imagine. Burke had very much the same idea.

  "By George, captain!" said he, "it is a great pity that she came along sosoon. What do you say? Shall we signal her or not? We want to get away,but it would be beastly awkward for anybody to come ashore just now. Iwish we had buried the bags as fast as we brought them ashore."

  The captain did not answer. Perhaps it might be as well not to signalher. And yet, this might be their only chance of rescue!

  "What do you say to jumping into the boats and rowing out to meet them?"asked Burke. "We'd have to leave the bags uncovered, but we might get toa port, charter some sort of a craft, and get back for the bags beforeany other vessel came so near the coast."

  "I don't see what made this one come so near," said Sh
irley, "unless itwas our fire last night. She might have thought that was a signal."

  "I shouldn't wonder," said the captain, who held the glass. "But weneedn't trouble ourselves about going out in boats, for she is makingstraight for land."

  "That's so," said Shirley, who could now see this for himself, for thelight was rapidly growing stronger. "She must have seen our fire lastnight. Shall I hoist a signal?"

  "No," said the captain. "Wait!"

  They waited to see what this vessel was going to do. Perhaps she was onlytacking. But what fool of a skipper would run so close to the shore forthe sake of tacking! They watched her eagerly, but not one of the whitemen would have been wholly disappointed if the schooner, which they couldnow easily make out, had changed her course and gone off on a long tackto the southwest.

  But she was not tacking. She came rapidly on before a stiff west wind.There was no need of getting out boats to go to meet her. She was southof the headland, but was steering directly toward it. They could see whatsort of craft she was--a long schooner, painted green, with all sailsset. Very soon they could see the heads of the men on board. Then shecame nearer and nearer to land, until she was less than half a mile fromshore. Then she shot into the wind; her sails fluttered; she lay almostmotionless, and her head-sails were lowered.

  "That's just as if they were coming into port," said Burke.

  "Yes," said Shirley, "I expect they intend to drop anchor."

  This surmise was correct, for, as he spoke, the anchor went downwith a splash.

  "They're very business-like," said Burke. "Look at them. They arelowering a boat."

  "A boat!" exclaimed Shirley, "They're lowering two of them."

  The captain knit his brows. This was extraordinary action on the part ofthe vessel. Why did she steer so straight for land? Why did she soquickly drop anchor and put out two boats? Could it be that this vesselhad been on their track? Could it be that the Peruvian government--But hecould not waste time in surmise as to what might be. They must act, notconjecture.

  It was not a minute before the captain made up his mind how they shouldact. Five men were in each boat, and with a glass it was easy to see thatsome of them carried guns.

  "Get your rifles!" cried he to Shirley and Burke, and he rushedfor his own.

  The arms and ammunition had been all laid ready in the tent, and in amoment each one of the white men had a rifle and a belt of cartridges.For the blacks there were no guns, as they would not have known how touse them, but they ran about in great excitement, each with his knifedrawn, blindly ready to do whatever should be ordered. The poor negroeswere greatly frightened. They had but one idea about the approachingboats: they believed that the men in them were Rackbirds coming to wreakvengeance upon them. The same idea had come into the mind of the captain.Some of the Rackbirds had gone back to the cove. They had known thatthere had been people there. They had made investigations, and found thecave and the empty mound, and in some way had discovered that the_Miranda_ had gone off with its contents. Perhaps the black fellow whohad deserted the vessel at Valparaiso had betrayed them. He hurriedlymentioned his suspicions to his companions.

  "I shouldn't wonder," said Burke, "if that Inkspot had done it. Perhapshe could talk a good deal better than we thought. But I vow I wouldn'thave supposed that he would be the man to go back on us. I thought he wasthe best of the lot."

  "Get behind that wall of bags," cried the captain, "every one of you.Whoever they are, we will talk to them over a breastwork."

  "I think we shall have to do more than talk," said Burke, "for a blindman could see that there are guns in those boats."