Black Bartlemys Treasure

Next morning, having bathed me in the pool, I descended thence to find breakfast a-cooking, two noble steaks propped before the fire on skewers stuck upright in the ground, a device methought very ingenious, and told her so; the which did seem to please her mightily.

"Are you hungry, Martin?"

"'Tis a poor word for it!" says I, sniffing at the roasting steaks.

"Alas! Our poor turtle-shell is all perished with the fire. Martin, if you could but contrive me a pan with handles! I have found plenty of clay along the river bank yonder." Here she gives me my steak on a piece of wood for platter, and I being so sharp-set must needs burn my mouth in my eagerness, whereon she gravely reproves me as I had been a ravenous boy, yet laughs thereafter to see me eat with such huge appetite now a bite of plantain, and now a slice of steak cut with my knife.

"As to your pan with handles," says I, my hunger appeased somewhat, "I will set about it as soon as I have made my bow and arrows--"

"There is no need of them," quoth she, and rising, away she goes and presently comes back with a goodly bow and quiver full of arrows.

"Lord love you!" says I, leaping up in my eagerness. "Here's mighty good weapon!" As indeed it was, being longer than most Indian bows and of good power. Moreover it was tufted with feathers rare to fancy and garnished here and there with fillets of gold-work, very artificially wrought as were also the arrows. Nine of these there were in a quiver of tanned leather, adorned with featherwork and gold beads, so that I did not doubt but that their late owner had been of some account among his fellows.

"I found them two days ago, Martin, but kept them until you should be well again. And this I found too!" And she showed me a gold collar of twisted wire, delicately wrought. All of the which put me in high good humour and I was minded to set off there and then to try a shot at something, but she prevailed upon me to finish my meal first; the which I did, though hastily.

"There was a knife also," says I suddenly.

"Yes, Martin, but I threw it into the lagoon."

"O folly!" says I.

"Nay, we have two knives already, and this as I do think was poisoned."

"No matter, 'twas a goodly knife--why must you throw it away?"

"Because I was so minded!" says she, mighty serene and regarding me with her calm, level gaze. "Never scowl, Martin, though indeed 'twas goodly knife with handle all gold-work." At this I scowled the more and she must needs laugh, calling me Black Bartlemy, whereon I turned my back on her and she fell a-singing to herself.