The Island Treasure Part 21

"It shows as how there's foul air there, bo--that's what the match's going out means. It tells us not to go in!"

Tom said this with a chuckle, for which Hiram gave him a dig in the ribs.

"Hev yer own way, Chips, fur a bit," he said; "but I'm jiggered if ye air a-going to kep me from prospectin' thet thaar hole."

"n.o.body wants to," retorted Tom. "Only just wait a bit till the wentilation gets better and blows out all the gas. It would a-pizened you if I'd let you go in at first, as you wanted."

"Wa-al, go ahead, an' hev another try fur to see ef it's right now."

In reply, Tom lit a second match, and held it in the opening of the cave as before.

This time it did not flicker so much, burning for a longer time, before the faint flame finally expired.

"Better," said Tom; "but it ain't quite safe yet."

"Hurry up," replied Hiram. "I'm bustin' to see thet boocaneer tree-sor ez the mate wer talkin' on!"

After an interval of another quarter of an hour or so, while we all waited on the tenter-hooks of suspense, an inquisitive land tortoise waddling up to see what we were about, Tom lit a third match.

This time it burnt bravely with a clear light, which showed us something of the interior of the cavern. It did not show us much, though, the darkness being too great for such a feeble illuminant to penetrate far into it.

"Now, boys," said Tom, "I think we may venture in, as the foul air must be pretty well spent by this time; but we'll have to get a torch or something to see our way by, or else we shall be breaking our necks or smas.h.i.+ng our heads against the roof."

"Guess one o' them port fires we hev aboard would lighten it up to rights."

"So it would," replied Tom; "but we ain't got it now, and must try and find somethin' else to make a flare up."

"Hyar's some o' the old wood," observed the other, taking up a fragment of the broken door, which was crumbly with age. "Strike another match, will ye. I think this timber 'll burn long enuff fur us to git inside an' prospect a few."

"Right you are, my hearty," returned the other, carrying out this suggestion; and the next minute, the piece of old oak was in a blaze, when, holding it up in one hand, Hiram stooped down once more and stepped within the cave.

There was nothing there, however.

Nothing!

"Wa-all," exclaimed Hiram, after bending here and there, and searching in every direction. "I calls this a durned sell, I dew!"

"Hold the light up again," said Tom; "a little more to the right, bo, so as to throw it on that dark corner there."

But nothing was to be seen save the rocky walls of the cave, which was of peculiar shape, and more like a sort of fissure in the rock, riven open possibly by some volcanic shock, than if made by man. The roof was formed of lava, it seemed to me by the light of our impromptu torch, similar to the same substance we noticed on the arid plain near the sh.o.r.e of the bay, and again below the sand at high-water mark.

There were queer fragments of rock also, placed round the hard floor of the cavern like seats, with regular intervals between them; while apparently in the middle, as near as we could approximate, was a raised portion of the under stratum of rock shaped like a pulpit.

"Guess if thaar's airy tree-sor hyar, b'ys," observed Hiram, pointing to this, "it's thaar!"

"No, bo," replied Tom, laughing, "that's the black man's pulpit, where he preaches a Sunday, same as our 'Holy Joes' do when they're ash.o.r.e!"

Hiram paid no attention to this remark, but continued poking about the place, stamping with his feet and trying in every way to see whether the treasure we were in search of might not be buried in some spot or other; but his trouble was all in vain.

Presently, the piece of blazing wood began to give forth a more feeble light, being almost burnt out; and, then, all at once Hiram and I noticed another spark of light like a round hole, at the opposite end of the cave.

"Hillo!" shouted Hiram, "I guess thaar's another end to the durned hole, an' we hev taken the wrong track!"

Making our way slowly, so as not to extinguish the torch, we advanced in the direction of the new light, which got bigger and bigger as we approached nearer to it.

There was no doubt it was another entrance to the cave, and a far more convenient one, too, for it opened out on to a little spur of the hill that ran down a somewhat steep declivity to the seash.o.r.e below.

"It must be the buccaneers' cave," said Tom. "It's just the sort o'

place men that were sailors would choose. I mis...o...b..ed it at first, from being so far inland, as I thought; but now I see it's near the sea."

"But there ain't nary a tree-sor thaar!"

"Don't you be too c.o.c.ksure o' that," returned Tom, looking about him well, to make certain of his direction. "Howsomdever, we ain't got the time to search the place properly now, as it'll be dark soon, and we ought to be aboard."

"Durned if I likes givin' it up like this."

"Never mind, bo; there'll be plenty of time for us to look the cave over to-morrer arternoon, and I'll bring one o' them port fires you spoke on to light up the place."

"Guess thet'll jest about do, Chips," replied Hiram, turning round, as if about to go back within the entrance, loth to leave without finding the buccaneers' h.o.a.rd, repeating his previous exclamation: "I'm durned, though, if I likes givin' it up like this!"

"Come along, my hearty!" cried Tom. "Come along, Charley. But, mind, neither on you be telling the hands what we've found out! There wouldn't be a chance for us if the skipper or that drunken cur Flinders knowed on it."

"Not me," replied Hiram, following Tom along the curve of the sh.o.r.e towards a little group of trees, which I recognised now as immediately above the pool frequented by the doves. "I won't tell nary a soul, an'

I reckon we ken both on us anser fur Cholly?"

"Certainly," said I, replying to his implied question, as I came up behind the two, and we started off retracing our way at once to the s.h.i.+p, on the fo'c's'le of which we could see several of the men already gathered together. "I'm sure I won't tell anybody, for I have n.o.body to tell except you, Tom, and Hiram--you're my only friends on board."

"Wait till you get hold of the buccaneers' gold, Charley," said Tom dryly. "You'll get plenty o' chums then, for money makes friends!"

Nothing further was said by either of us, and we presently found ourselves once more on board, when I turned in at once, for we had walked a goodish distance, and I was tired out.

The next afternoon, when work was ended and Hiram and I were ready to start on another excursion to the cave, we could not find Tom.

"Nary mind thet, Cholly," said Hiram. "I guess we ken go 'long, an'

Chips 'll pick us up by-an'-by."

Pa.s.sing the grove and pool of the doves, we made our way over the brow of the little hill beyond, and sighted the second bay; when, just as the opening to the cave became visible, both of us heard the familiar sound of Sam Jedfoot's banjo.

It was pa.s.sing strange!

The same old air was being played upon it that we had heard immediately before the s.h.i.+p struck--and, indeed, almost always prior to every catastrophe and mischance that had happened throughout our eventful voyage.

Hiram turned pale.

"Jee-rusalem, Cholly!" he exclaimed, at once arresting his footsteps; "what on airth air thet?"

I was almost equally frightened.

"It--it--it--sounds like poor Sam's banjo," I stammered out. "I--I-- hope he ha--ha--hasn't come to haunt us again!"