The Flag of Distress Part 57

La Crosse has been sent up the ravine, to report how things look landward.

The four Spaniards have signified their intention to remain a little longer on the ground; while the three Englishmen have not said when they will leave. These are together conferring in low voice; but with an earnestness in their eyes--especially Blew's--which makes it easy to guess the subject. Only thoughts of woman could kindle these fiery glances.

Soon all appear ready to depart. Still no one stirs from the spot. For there is something yet: still another question to be determined; to most of them a matter of little, though to some of all consequence.

In the latter light, two at least regard it; since with them it has been the source, the primary motive, the real spur to all their iniquitous action. In a word, it is the women.

The captives: how are they to be disposed of?

They are still within the grotto, unseen, as the sailcloth curtains it.

Breakfast has been taken to them, which they have scarce touched.

And, now, the time has come for deciding what has to be done with them; no one openly asks, or says word upon the subject; though it is uppermost in the thoughts of all. It is a delicate question, and they are shy of broaching it. For there is a sort of tacit impression there will be difficulty about the appropriation of this portion of the spoils--an electricity in the air, that foretells dispute and danger.

All along it had been understood that two men laid claim to them; their claim, whether just or not, hitherto unquestioned, or, at all events, uncontested. These, Gomez and Hernandez. As they had been the original designers of the supposed deed, now done, their confederates, men little given to love-making, had either not thought about the women, or deemed their possession of secondary importance. But now, at the eleventh hour, it has become known that two others intend a.s.serting a claim to them--one being Blew, the other Davis.

And these two certainly seem so determined, their eyes constantly turning towards the grotto where the girls are, unconscious of the interest they are exciting.

At length the dreaded interrogatory is put--and point blank. For it is Jack Striker who puts it. The "Sydney Duck" is not given to sentiment or circ.u.mlocution.

Speaking that all may hear him, he blurts out:

"Well, chums? what are we to do wi' the weemen?"

"Oh! they?" answers Gomez in a drawling tone, and with an affectation of indifference. "_You've_ nothing to do with them, and needn't take any trouble. They'll go with us--with Senor Hernandez and myself."

"Will they, indeed?" sharply questions the chief officer.

"Of course," answers Gomez.

"I don't see any of course about it," rejoins Blew. "And more'n that, I tell ye they don't go with ye--leastwise, not so cheap as you think for."

"What do you mean, Mr Blew?" demands the Spaniard, his eyes betraying anger, with some uneasiness.

"No use your losin' temper, Gil Gomez. You ain't goin' to scare me. So you may as well keep cool. By doin' that, and listenin', you'll larn what I mean. The which is, that you and Hernandez have no more right to them creeturs in the cave than any o' the rest of us. Just as the gold, so ought it to be wi' the girls. In coorse, we can't divide them all round; but that's no reason why any two should take 'em, so long's any other two wants 'em as well. Now, _I_ wants one o' them."

"And I another!" puts in Davis.

"Yes," continues Blew; "and though I be a bit older than you, Mr Gomez, and not quite so pretentious a gentleman, I can like a pretty wench as well's yerself. I've took a fancy to the one wi' the tortoise-sh.e.l.l hair, an' an't goin' to gi'e her up in the slack way you seem to be wis.h.i.+n'."

"Glad to hear it's the red one, Blew," says Davis. "As I'm for the black one, there'll be no rivalry between us. Her I mean to have-- unless some better man hinders me."

"Well," interpolates Striker, "as 'twas me first put the questyun, I 'spose I'll be allowed to gi'e an opeenyun?"

No one saying nay, the ex-convict proceeds:

"As to any one hevin' a speecial claim to them weemen, n.o.body has, an'

n.o.body shed have. 'Bout that, Blew's right, an' so's Bill. An' since the thing's disputed, it oughter be settled in a fair an' square--"

"You needn't waste your breath," interrupts Gomez, in a tone of determination. "I admit no dispute in the matter. If these gentlemen insist, there's but one way of settling. First, however, I'll say a word to explain. One of these ladies is my sweetheart--was, before I ever saw any of you. Senor Hernandez here can say the same of the other. Nay, I may tell you more; they are pledged to us."

"It's a lie!" cries Blew, confronting the slanderer, and looking him straight in the face. "A lie, Gil Gomez, from the bottom o' your black heart!"

"Enough!" exclaims Gomez, now purple with rage. "No man can give Frank Lara the lie, and live after."

"Frank Lara; or whatever you may call yerself, I'll live long enough to see you under ground--or what's more like, hangin' high above it wi'

your throat in a halter. Don't make any mistake about me. I can shoot straight as you."

"Avast theer!" shouts Striker to Gomez, now calling himself De Lara, seeing him about to draw a pistol. "Keep yer hand off that wepun! If theer must be a fight, let it be a fair one. But, before it begin, Jack Striker has a word to say."

While speaking, he has stepped between the two men, staying their encounter.

"Yes; let the fight be a fair one!" demand several voices, as the pirates come cl.u.s.tering around.

"Look here, s.h.i.+pmates!" continues Striker, still standing between the two angry men, and alternately eyeing them. "What's the use o' spillin'

blood about it--maybe killin' one the other? All for the sake o' a pair o' petticoats, or a couple o' pairs, as it be. Take my advice, an'

settle the thing in a pacifical way. Maybe ye will, after ye've heerd what I intend proposin'; which I daresay 'll be satisfactory to all."

"What is it, Jack?" asks one of the outsiders.

"First, then, I'm goin' to make the observashun, that fightin' an't the way to get them weemen, whoever's fools enough to fight for 'em.

Theer's somethin' to be done besides."

"Explain yourself, old Sydney! What's to be done besides?"

"If the gals are goin' to be fought for, they've first got to be _paid_ for."

"How that?"

"How? What humbuggin' stuff askin' such a questyin! Han't we all equil shares in 'em? Coorse we hev. Tharfore, them as wants 'em, must pay for 'em. An' they as wants 'em so bad as to do shootin' for 'em, surely won't objek to that. Theer appear to be four candydates in the field, an', kewrous enuf, they're set in pairs, two for each one o' the gals.

Now, 'ithout refarin' to any fightin' that's to be done--an', if they're fools enuf to fight, let 'em--I say that eyther who eventyally gets a gal, shed pay a consideras.h.i.+n o' gold-dust all roun' to the rest o' us-- at least a pannikin apiece. That's what Jack Striker proposes first."

"It's fair," says Slush.

"Nothing more than our rights," observes Tarry; the Dane and the Dutchman also endorsing the proposal.

"I agree to it," says Harry Blew.

"I also," adds Davis.

De Lara--late Gomez--signifies his a.s.sent by a disdainful nod, but without saying a word; Hernandez imitating the action. In fear of losing adherents, neither dares disapprove of it.

"What more have you to say, Jack?" asks Slush, recalling Striker's last words, which seemed to promise something else.

"Not much. Only thet I think it a pity, after our livin' so long in harmony thegither, we can't part same way. Weemen's allers been a bother ever since I've know'd 'em. An', I 'spose, it'll continue so to the eend o' the chapter, an' the eend o' some lives heer. I repeet, thet it be a pity we shed hev to wind up wi' a quarrel wheer blood's bound to be spilt. Now, why, can't it be settled 'ithout thet? I think I know o' a way."

"What way?"

"Leave it to the ladies theirselves. Gi'e them the chance o' who they'd like for theer purtectors; same time lettin' 'em know they've got to choose 'tween one or t'other. Let 'em take theer pick, everybody unnerstanin' afterwards theer's to be no quarrellin', or fightin'.

That's our law in the Australyin bush, when we've cases o' the kind; an'