The Gold Hunters' Adventures Part 127

"No, no--don't do that; we should he decoyed into a bog by an _ignis fatuus_, and smothered without mercy. Let us stay where we are, and dig until we see sights that make us abandon the project."

I agreed to be guided by Mr. Brown's advice, and once more we began to toil amid the rocks and dead gra.s.s.

About this time the moon, which had shone with wonderful brightness while we were digging, became obscured by white clouds from the westward, so that objects on the island were more indistinct, and even the trees on the main land, under which we had left our horses, were no longer discernable.

I thought, as I threw out the earth from the hole which we had already made, that the ground had been dug up before, and I felt encouraged to continue my labors, in hopes that we should soon reach the treasure which we considered belonged to us by bequest.

All thoughts of ghosts and spirits were fast pa.s.sing away in the excitement of my occupation, when suddenly Mr. Brown dropped his pickaxe and uttered an exclamation.

"Did you hear that?" he cried, pointing in the direction from whence he supposed the sound proceeded.

"No," I answered, beginning to feel a little of his own alarm.

"If this d----d island isn't haunted, I wouldn't say so," my companion continued.

"Remember the compact which you proposed, that we were not to exchange a word during our occupation."

"The devil take the compact, and me, too, if I can help speaking when I hear such unearthly noises."

Hardly were the words out of his mouth when from the earth arose a form that seemed at least ten feet high. It was clothed in white, and from its head projected two monstrous horns, which were pointed towards us in a threatening manner. I could discern no features, but a huge ma.s.s of white bones were visible where the face should have been, and I thought that I could hear them rattle as the beast, devil, or ghost shook its head in an ominous manner, and advanced towards us.

"I can't stand this?" cried Mr. Brown, in a trembling whisper, and away he went, with the speed of a greyhound, towards the bridge that connected the island with the main land.

I did not think that words were desirable or becoming on my part, as I did not have charge of the expedition, so no sooner had Mr. Brown turned to run than I followed him.

Fear lent me wings, and I bounded over the rocks like a deer pursued by hunters, but in despite of my utmost endeavors I found that I was unable to compete with my friend, who ran as though trained for ten mile stretches upon a race course.

Once I looked back to see if we were followed, but the white visitant appeared content with driving us off, for no pursuit was made.

I had half an idea of stopping, but another groan, more unnatural and ghostly than any that I had heard, determined me, and I recommenced my flight with but faint hope of overtaking Mr. Brown, who, I perceived, was already on the peninsula, bounding along with a recklessness that would have made him shudder at any other time. I attempted to utter a warning cry, but the effort was a failure, and just as I reached the bridge I saw that my worst fears were realized, for my friend caught his feet in the long, dried gra.s.s, lost his balance, and fell heavily.

I quickly gained the spot, and saw, to my horror, that my companion had fallen upon the soft, black mud which extended for many acres on each side of the island, and that he was slowly sinking, in spite of his frantic efforts to reach the bridge, which was about six feet from his outstretched arms.

"Save me!" he cried, in despairing accents, and just then the moon, as though in mockery of his request, shone out brighter than ever.

He made an almost superhuman effort to sustain himself, and keep from sinking, but I saw, with horror, that he was settling slowly and surely, and that all his struggles only hastened his end.

"Can you do nothing for me?" he shrieked. "For G.o.d's sake, don't let me die such a horrid death as this. Try and save me."

I thought of a dozen different ways to a.s.sist him, but none of them were practicable, and I was obliged to conjure up others.

"Can you reach my hand?" I asked, stretching it towards him, first taking the precaution of twisting my left hand in a clump of dried gra.s.s, so that I, too, should not be dragged into the bog.

The poor fellow made a frantic effort to do so, but he could not reach within six inches.

"Lean a little more towards me," he shrieked, but I did not dare to, for I should have shared his fate, and both of us would have smothered, and our friends would never have learned our fate.

My companion uttered a groan, and for a moment was silent. During the brief period, I heard, with awful distinctness, the sound of the pickaxe, as it was struck against the rocks upon the island, worked, I had no doubt, by supernatural hands.

CHAPTER LXVIII.

THE ISLAND GHOST.--NARROW ESCAPE OF MR. BROWN.

I would sooner have faced the most savage gang of bushrangers in Australia than that fearful sound, yet I was so anxious to save my friend that, frightened as I really was, I did not run, or even make a motion to that effect. The drowning man, with face upturned, and eyes that watched my every motion, at length heard the dull, heavy blows of the pick, and he seemed to comprehend that they were intended as warnings of his end. He no longer struggled like a brave man wrestling with death, but seemed to grow more calm as the slime and mud closed around him, and his body settled.

"How can I save you?" I asked; "I cannot think that we are to part so suddenly; I would give all my wealth for a rope six feet long."

"If you had one of the horses' bridles here," suggested Mr. Brown, but before I could start to get one, he continued, "don't leave me, for I should be smothered before you could get back; see, the water is up even with my chin."

I had noticed the same thing before he alluded to it, and I dreaded to remain and hear his last struggles for breath.

"I have a mother somewhere on the coast of England; the last that I heard of her she was at Falmouth. Will you write and collect what money I have saved, and send it to her? I know that you will, and a dying man thanks you."

While the poor fellow was speaking, a thought entered my head that he might yet be saved, but there was no time to lose if I intended to put into operation my plan for his relief. I hastily tore off my belt which I wore around my waist, and which contained my revolver and knife, and then stripped off my trousers, (the ladies will please not to blush--there was no habitation within three miles of us,) made of stout woollen cloth, which I had bought in Melbourne for the purpose of riding through the brush on horseback.

In an instant my friend appeared to comprehend my plan; he raised his right hand from the mud and reached towards me as far as possible, and then, with a struggle to keep his head above the water, murmured--"Quick, for G.o.d's sake, quick!"

"Keep up your courage," I shouted, throwing one leg of the garment towards him, while I retained the other.

To my great joy I saw that he grasped it in his right hand, and exerted all his strength to extricate himself from his perilous condition. Had I not have been prepared for his struggles, and braced my feet firmly, I should have been dragged into the bog.

"Gently!" I cried, fearful that my friend, in his exertions, would rend the cloth.

My words were thrown away, however, for when did a man, struggling for life, ever listen to reason? For a few seconds the suction was so great that I could only prevent him from sinking lower, and keep his head above the mud, until at length I recommended him to endeavor to work his legs loose, so that he could rest upon his stomach, as though he was attempting to swim.

Brown followed my advice, and when he saw that there was a certain prospect of being saved he grew quite calm, and soon I had the satisfaction of reaching out my hand, grasping one of his own, and dragging him upon the peninsula, a little the worse for his contact with the bog, but cheerful, and disposed to regard his adventure in the light of a joke.

"My dear friend," he exclaimed, clasping my hand, and I thought he was about to pour forth a profusion of thanks for my services, "let me advise you to put your trousers on as soon as possible, for these blasted mosquitoes will devour you alive."

I think that his recommendation was the best evidence of his attachment that I could possibly have desired, for I had been so inwrapt with the business before me that I had not heeded the cloud of ferocious insects hovering around my naked extremities, filling their bodies with my life blood, and causing me to almost desire a bath in the bog, for the purpose of getting rid of my tormentors.

I hurried on my clothes without loss of time, and then desired to know in what manner I could help him.

"Let me get away from this place first, and then secure a wash, and a change of clothing, for I feel as though I had been fished out of a mola.s.ses hogshead," Mr. Brown said, sc.r.a.ping the mud from his s.h.i.+rt and pants, and even taking it from his pockets by handfuls.

"What made you run in the manner that you did?" he asked, as I a.s.sisted him to rise.

"I but followed your example, and I begin to think that I followed a very poor one," I replied.

"I am of the same opinion, for I don't believe that we saw any thing excepting a ram anxious for a hunting match. Let us return."

As my friend ceased speaking we glanced at the island, and that one look was sufficient to start us towards the main land in double quick time, for, standing at the end of the peninsula, with one arm raised in a threatening manner, as though warning us against a renewed attempt for the treasure, was the white figure which had first frightened us.

"That is Buckerly's ghost," gasped Mr. Brown, as we gained the palm trees under which the horses were hitched; "I know it is his spirit, from the many descriptions which I have heard concerning it."