Black Bartlemys Treasure

Beyond Deliverance Sands I saw the glow of their fire, and drawing thither knew them camped in the shadow of that great pimento tree and within that rocky gorge the which had afforded my dear lady and me our first night's shelter. Being come thither, I sat me down and took counsel how best to attack them that I might slay as many as possible ere they gave me the death I hungered for; and the end of it was I began to scale the cliff, my goatskin buskins soundless and very sure amid the rocks.

As I mounted I heard the hoarse murmur of their voices and knew by their very intonation (since I could hear no words as yet) that they were speaking English. Reaching the summit, and mighty cautious, I came where I might look down into the cleft.

They lay sprawled about their fire, four grim-looking fellows, ragged and unkempt, three of them talking together and one who lay groaning ever and anon.

"Be damned, t'ye, Joel for a lily-livered dog!" growled a great, bony fellow, "Here's good an island as man can want--"

"And full of bloody Indians--eh, Humphrey?" says a black-jowled fellow, turning on the wounded man. "Us do know the Indians, don't us Humphrey? Inca, Aztec, Mosquito and Cimaroon, we know 'em and their devil's ways, don't us, Humphrey?"

"Aye--aye!" groaned the wounded man. "They tortured me once and they've done for me at last, by God! My shoulder's afire--"

"And the shaft as took ye, Humphrey, were a Indian shaft--a Indian shaft, weren't it, lad? And all trimmed wi' gold, aren't it? Here, ye may see for yourselves! 'Sequently I do know it for the shaft of a chief or cacique and where a cacique is there's Indians wi' him--O thick as thieves--I know and Humphrey knows! I say this curst island be full of Indians, thick as fleas, curse 'em! And they'll have us soon or late and torment us. So what I says is, let's away at the flood and stand away for the Main--the sea may be bad now and then, but Indians be worse--always and ever!"

"Why, as to that, Ned, the Indians ha' left us alone--"

"Aye!" cried the bony man, "And what o' the wench--her was no Indian, I lay! A fine, dainty piece she was, by hooky! And handsome, ah--handsome! But for Humphrey's bungling--"

Here the man Humphrey groaned and cursed the speaker bitterly.

"Howbeit--'twas an Indian arrer!" says Ned. "And that means Indians, and Indians means death to all on us--ask Humphrey! Death--eh, Humphrey?"

"Aye--death!" groaned Humphrey, "Death's got his grapples aboard me now. I'm a-dying, mates--dying! Get me aboard, death will come easier in open water."