The Third Officer: A Present-day Pirate Story

Their first objective was the hillock Burgoyne had previously noticed from farther along shore. It stood well above the palm tops, rising abruptly on three sides and shelving gradually towards the east. A few coco-palms grew on the southern side, but elsewhere it was covered with comparatively short grass.

Arriving at the summit, the explorers found that the island was but a mile or so broad but nearly twice that distance in length, the land on the north side forming a long tapering neck averaging but a hundred yards in width, with the whole of the neck thickly wooded. It was on this strip of land that Burgoyne, Hilda, and Minalto had come ashore.

The reef entirely surrounded the island, although there were numerous gaps affording a communication between the open sea and the lagoon. It was on the edge of one of these channels that the life-boat struck. Had she been a couple of yards more to the south'ard she might have driven ashore on the island with very little damage, or none at all had she been swept into the small harbour where Mostyn was fortunate enough to land.

As the tide was almost at its ebb all the outlying reefs were exposed, disclosing a veritable death-trap for any vessel unfortunate enough to become entangled in the intricate shoals. At high-water the reefs surrounding the smaller island that Burgoyne had previously noticed were awash, only the mere hummock crowned by three palm trees being visible.

"There's one disadvantage that this island has and which Porfirio's island hasn't," observed Burgoyne. "In calm weather a boat can land here almost anywhere. Properly we ought to maintain a look-out station on this hill, especially if the pirates do attempt to find us."

"Do you think they will?" asked Hilda.

"They may try," replied Alwyn. "That's almost a foregone conclusion. But they'll think we've tried to make Honolulu, which is the nearest known civilized town in this part of the Pacific. If so, they're right off their course."

"Why didn't we?" inquired the girl.

"Head wind and adverse current almost the whole distance," said Burgoyne laconically.

"I'm not questioning your seamanship, Mr. Burgoyne," Hilda hastened to add, imagining by the Third Officer's somewhat brusque reply that he thought she had cast aspersions upon his sound judgment.

"I never had the slightest idea that you did, Miss Vivian," rejoined Alwyn earnestly. "I ought to have explained. Briefly, in a sailing craft the shortest distance between two ports is not always the quickest passage. One must take prevailing winds and currents into consideration But to get to the look-out question. I think we ought to make a point of having someone up here four times a day, just to make sure that no suspicious craft is bearing down on the island. And there's another question: will Porfirio make use of that seaplane of his to try and spot us?"

"That'll be awkward," remarked Peter "unless we can collar the blighter when she's sitting."

"Not much use that," said Alwyn. "None of us could fly the thing even if we did capture it. No, I don't want to see that seaplane again except through the sight of an anti-aircraft gun. Now, suppose we push on."

"Aren't we going to give the island a name, Mr. Burgoyne?" inquired Hilda. "It's the usual thing, I believe."

"Right-o," agreed Alwyn. "I propose we leave the selection of a name to you."

"Then why not 'Swan Island'," said the girl. "From here the outline looks awfully like a swan with an exaggerated neck."

"So it does," agreed Peter. "Done it in one, Miss Vivian."

"An' thet rock out along," said Minalto. "Ut ought to have a name. They three trees make un look like an ole man-o-war. How'd 'Man-o-war Rock' suit?"

"The very ticket," agreed Burgoyne. "So that's that."

Descending the hill, the four castaways proceeded in the direction of the west side of Swan Island. Here the coco-palms were thinner in point of number, but the scrub was if anything denser than on the eastern side.

Suddenly there was a commotion in the undergrowth, and three or four fat porkers dashed frantically across the path.

"Pork for supper!" shouted Peter. In his excitement he hurled the coil of rope at the animals, without doing the slightest good.

But before the last pig had disappeared in the brushwood Jasper hurled his spear with tremendous force. The aim was good, and the nail-shod tip struck the luckless animal just behind the fore-quarters.

Squealing horribly; the pig rolled over on its side but before Jasper or anyone else could secure the prize it recovered its feet and dived under the thick scrub.

Reckless of the consequences and loth to lose the brute, Minalto crawled under the spiky bushes, while Burgoyne and Mostyn made their way round the patch of scrub in order to try to cut off the wounded animal's retreat. Hilda, holding her hands to her ears to shut out the piteous squeals, remained on the path.

The two officers were baulked in their attempt, for on the remote side of the belt of scrub the ground rose steeply to a height of about twenty feet, running right and left in an almost unbroken wall of soft rock.

"The brute can't climb that," declared Alwyn. "You stop here, Peter, old son. I'll work round to the other side and we've got him cold. How goes it, Jasper?" he shouted to the intensely excited and exasperated Minalto, whose efforts to follow the pig were considerably hampered by hundreds of aggressive thorns.

"'E be gone down to girt big hole, sir," replied Minalto breathlessly. "Don't 'ee take on. Us'll get 'un."

"A hole, did you say?" inquired Burgoyne. "Go slow then."

"Ay, ay, sir," replied Jasper; then after a pause he added: "Could you be comin' here, sir? If so, would 'ee bring my spear?"

Alwyn agreed to the suggestion rather hesitatingly. In default of suitable spare clothing, he was reluctant to sacrifice his already ragged garments to the attentions of the spiky thorns. Recovering the weapon that had wounded the pig, he crawled under the thicket until he rejoined Jasper.

Sounding with the pole, Minalto found that the floor of the hole or cave was level, but the extreme reach of the spear failed to find the extremity of the hollow. The while the squeals of the porker were growing fainter and fainter, showing that it was on the point of death.

"What's doing, old son?" inquired Mostyn from afar.

"Come and see, my festive," replied Burgoyne. "No more of your 'wait and see' business. Bring your rope with you."

Undergoing more than his fair share of laceration, Peter crawled under the brushwood. The three men crouched in the dim light that filtered through the thicket, and silently contemplated the mouth of the cave.

Minalto looked upon it as a place where fresh pork was to be obtained and that soon; Peter, in the light of romance, tried to conjure up visions of the long-gone buccaneers; Alwyn, in view of possibilities, regarded it and its approach as a hiding-place should Black Strogoff and his satellites succeed in finding the castaways.

"May as well see the thing through," observed Burgoyne. "It's no use hanging on to the slack."

"Certainly, sir," agreed Minalto, and proceeded to secure the rope round his waist by means of a bowline. "Du you pay out, sir, 'n case there's a big drop."

Prodding the ground with the haft of his spear, Jasper cautiously entered the cave. For the first eight or ten paces the sides of the tunnel-like entrance were fairly regular and less than a yard apart. Then he found that the cave expanded both in height and width, until it was impossible even with the spear to reach from one wall to the other. Standing upright, Minalto found that he could just touch the roof with his extended hand.

Guided by the faint squeals, Jasper followed the right-hand wall until his knees came in contact with what he thought to be a large ledge of rock. Groping with his hands, he discovered that the obstruction was a large box with a hinged lid.

Instantly all thoughts of the pig vanished from the man's mind, and again the long-dormant strain derived from his wrecking and smuggling ancestors reasserted itself.

"Ho! ho!" he shouted in stentorian tones. "We'm in luck, sir. Treasure an' all!"

He fumbled with the lid, then, struck by the thought that a lot of the glamour of the discovery of hidden specie and bullion would be lost unless he viewed his find in the glare of a torch, he retraced his footsteps and rejoined Alwyn and Peter.

"Girt sea-chest!" he announced excitedly. "Lifted 'en lid, I did."

"And the pig?" asked the matter-of-fact Burgoyne.

"Drat that pig!" exclaimed Minalto explosively. "The chest, sir. Ef us had a light, like… sort o' torch, now say?"

"How about it, Peter?" asked Alwyn, turning to the Wireless Officer.

"We'll manage that," replied Mostyn confidently. "Let's get out of the thicket. Suppose we ought to beat a clear path through this stuff?"

Burgoyne shook his head.

"No," he decided; "we won't disturb it more than necessary. The less we do the better. If we're careful we ought to be able to take a lighted torch into the cave without setting fire to the brushwood outside."

Returning to the open, they explained the delay to Hilda, whose eagerness to explore the cave was only quelled by the knowledge that the dying pig was somewhere in that gloomy vault. She would have endured the thorny passage without complaint; but there were limits, and the expiring porker was beyond them.

Hurrying back to the camp, Mostyn returned with his fire-making gear, and proceeded to work. Meanwhile Burgoyne and Minalto had wrenched off some resinous branches to serve as torches.

"All ready!" announced Peter.

With a torch burning faintly, Minalto forced his way under the scrub, Burgoyne and Mostyn following in his tracks. At the mouth of the cave they coaxed the flames into greater activity, and from it lighted two more torches.

Jasper advanced boldly. He had been there before. His companions followed cautiously, until the glare of the reddish flames revealed the treasure-chest.

It was in fairly good condition, having been painted white with a black lid. There were rope beckets at each end, rove through two large half-round wooden chocks.

The lid creaked on its hinges as Jasper threw it back. Then he gave a howl of disappointment. All the chest contained was a rusty cutlass, a clay pipe with a broken stem, and a number of brown paper bundles containing candles all stuck together by the heat.

"So much for your treasure, Jasper!" said Burgoyne with a laugh. "Never mind; we found something useful, the candles especially."

"P'raps 'en buried et," suggested Minalto hopefully, casting anxious glances at the walls and floor of the cave.

Burgoyne made no remark. He was deeply interested in the construction of the cave. It was partly natural and partly artificial. Human hands had enlarged the entrance and "faired off" the walls. In length it was about forty feet, and twenty in breadth, with a hewn pillar in the centre to give greater support to the roof. Except for the chest there were no other relics of the previous occupier. In one corner lay the pig, by this time quite dead.

"No use stopping here," decided Alwyn. "Bend that rope round the pig, Minalto, and we'll haul the brute out. Yes, bring the cutlass, Peter, and a couple of packets of candles. The others can stop, in case we want them here."

"Want them here?" repeated Mostyn.

"Rather," replied his chum. "This cave will make an ideal retreat if we have to hide. I hope we shan't, but we must look things fairly in the face. That's why I didn't want the brushwood cleared away. Had it not been for the pig we should not have found the cave, and so most likely no one else will."

"Someone did at one time," remarked Peter.

"Yes, but how long ago we don't know, unless that cutlass gives us a clue. I'll have a look at it when we get into the open. You see, the person or persons who enlarged this place threw the excavated material on a mound just outside. That shows they hadn't any idea of concealing the cave. Since then this scrub has sprung up and hidden it. Now then, Jasper, all ready? Heave away!"

At the mouth of the cave they extinguished their torches, leaving them leaning against the wall in case they might be required again. Then, carrying and hauling their various trophies, the three men rejoined Hilda in the open.

"Now, where's that cutlass?" inquired Alwyn, after relating the story of how their high expectations had been thwarted. "H'm, thought so. Our predecessors on Swan Island weren't so very ancient after all. This is a cutlass-bayonet, Peter, issued to the Navy in the late '70's and '80's. That ring in the guard is where the muzzle went, but I see the spring socket is rusted away. Nice job for you, Peter. You can clean the thing up. It'll do to carve the Christmas dinner if we're here long enough."

CHAPTER XXIV

The Cave proves Useful

During the two days following all hands were kept busily employed. In addition to carrying out the usual routine, they made preparations to lay in a stock of provisions. Mostyn tried his hand at obtaining salt by evaporation, and succeeded in making about a pound of very saline powder. Minalto cut up the porker, reserving some of the meat for present use and pickling the rest. Hilda experimented with making biscuits of taro root finely powdered and bruised between two large stones.

In addition the three men took turns at climbing to the summit of the look-out hill. This they did every four hours in calm weather, and every two hours when the wind blew with any strength, so that no sailing vessel could close with the island between those intervals without first being sighted in the offing.

On the morning of the fourth day Jasper called Burgoyne's attention to a rectangular object lying on the top of a low-lying part of the reef. The tide had fallen exceptionally, and more of the reef was exposed than they had seen before.

"I believe it's our water-tank," declared Alwyn. "That's about where the boat broke her back."

"So I thinks, too, sir," agreed Minalto.

"In that case we'll have the thing ashore," declared Burgoyne. "It would never do to leave such a monument to our mishaps lying in such a conspicuous position."

"How would you bring it across?" asked Mostyn.

"It looks as if it is lying on its side," replied the Third Officer, shading his eyes with his hand. "We'll have to up-right it and let the rising tide float it off. A couple of us could easily swim over there and push it across the lagoon. No, not yet. We'll have to wait for the young flood to make. Meanwhile it's your turn, Jasper, to climb the hill. Nothing like exercise before breakfast."

Minalto swung off, and hurried to perform his task of look-out man. In less than a quarter of an hour he was back again, breathless with running.

"A sail!" he announced pantingly. "Away to nor'ard."

"Dash it all!" exclaimed Burgoyne.

The information disconcerted him. For the sake of his companions both on Swan Island and in the hands of the pirates at the secret base, he would have welcomed the intelligence if he knew for certain that the strange craft was a friendly one. But an instinctive feeling told him that the craft was manned by some of Ramon Porfirio's ruffianly crowd, and that the object of her voyage was to recapture the four fugitives.

Without undue delay all hands hurried to the summit of the hill, Alwyn pausing only to scatter the burning logs over which the morning meal was boiling, Hilda suffering the interruption of her culinary task without protest.

From the elevated look-out post the vessel could be seen fairly clearly. The morning was bright, with no sign of haze, and the craft appeared nearer than she actually was. In spite of the light breeze she was approaching rapidly, so that it was evident that she was equipped with a motor.

She was then about a mile and a half or two miles off the northern part of the island, shaping a course for the eastern side. She was a fore-and-aft schooner, carrying jib-headed top-sails, and was of about eighty tons displacement. She flew no colours.

"What would I not give for my prism binoculars?" sighed Alwyn. "Seen her before, Minalto?"

Jasper nodded. He was still rather breathless.

"Yes," continued Burgoyne, "unless I'm much mistaken she was one of those small craft lying in the pirates' harbour; but I'm hanged if I noticed whether any of them had motors. Well, we'll have to get a move on, Miss Vivian. I'm sorry to say that your wish of a few days ago will have to be complied with. We must hide in the cave, perhaps for several days. I don't suppose those rascals will abandon the search until they've examined every visible part of the island."

"How about the water-tank?" asked Mostyn.

"Too late, now, I'm afraid," replied his chum. "It will be as much as we can do to transfer ourselves and our traps to the cave… This way down; in case they've a glass bearing on us."

Keeping to the south slope of the hill until the tree-tops shut out the sight of the approaching vessel, the fugitives returned to the camp.

There was much to be done in a very short time. The tent was levelled and packed up in the smallest possible compass. The canvas between the two upturned parts of the broken life-boat was removed. The hot embers of the dying fire was carefully scattered, lest they might kindle into flame and smoke. Then, heavily laden with stores and provisions, the four hastened towards the cave.

"One minute, sir!" exclaimed Jasper, stopping short in his tracks and setting down his burden. "If us ain't forgotten the li'l ole cask o' rum."

Burgoyne glanced behind towards the lagoon, a small portion of which was visible through the glade.

"Too late, now," he replied. "The schooner's passing through the reef. Yes, she has an engine right enough. The water-tank must have given us away. Come along, Jasper; you've seen the last of your li'l ole cask, I'm thinking."

There was a stubborn look on Minalto's bronzed and bearded face as he reluctantly re-shouldered his burden. It went sorely against the grain, this tame surrender of what he considered to be his property by finding.

"Come along!" repeated Burgoyne sternly.

"Ay, ay, sir," replied Minalto; then under his breath he added: "an' I hope th' li'l ole cask'll poison the lot o' they."

It was now a slow and cautious business getting the stores and gear into the cave, and in spite of every care Burgoyne noticed with concern that the tracks under the scrub were by no means covered. A keen Malay tracker would be able to find their retreat with little difficulty. The only hope lay in the fact that the crew of the schooner were unskilled in woodcraft, and that the broken twigs and brushwood would escape notice.

"Here's our present abode, Miss Vivian," announced Burgoyne, when the four and their portable property were inside the cave, a couple of candles lighted, and a double sheet of canvas hung across the entrance to screen any gleam from within.

"It reminds me of London during an air-raid," observed Hilda. "I had to spend several nights in a cellar – I was made to go down, but I would have much preferred to stop in an upper room. But there is nothing to be afraid of here as far as bombs are concerned."

"No; silence is the chief consideration," cautioned Alwyn. "I don't suppose they've sent a boat ashore yet, but I think I'll find out."

"Don't run unnecessary risks, please, Mr. Burgoyne," said Hilda.

"Trust me for that, Miss Vivian," declared the Third Officer earnestly. "Risks, yes; unnecessary risks, no. I've no use for the fellow who goes out asking for trouble."

"I'm going with you, old son," said Peter.

"My festive Sparks, you are not," decided Burgoyne. "For the present this is a one-man show. You stop here, and don't stir outside till I come back. All being well, I'll return in twenty minutes, if not before."

Withdrawing the cartridges from his revolver, Alwyn carefully tried the mechanism of the little weapon. Then, after reloading, he thrust the revolver into his hip-pocket, and, with a wave of his hand, disappeared behind the canvas hanging.

It was a tedious wait for the three who remained. Without means of knowing the time, the minutes passed very, very slowly. Peter tried to gauge the interval by observing the burning down of one of the candles. The others waited and listened intently for any sounds that might reach their ears from without the cave. Even the practical Hilda Vivian looked anxious and worried. Mostyn, not usually observant of people's characters, noticed that, and wondered whether the girl was anxious on Burgoyne's account or merely because of the peril that threatened her.

At length Minalto stood up, stretched his huge arms and picked up the cutlass, which Mostyn had brought to a state bordering on perfection, for the blade had been cleaned and sharpened, and the hilt shone like a convex mirror in the candle-light.

"I'm going to look for 'e," he declared in a hoarse whisper.

"You're going to stay here," said Mostyn firmly. "Officer's orders, you know."

Minalto was about to frame an argumentative reply, when a chorus of raucous voices sounded in the distance.

Without further delay Jasper pulled aside the canvas screen, only to collide violently with Alwyn Burgoyne.

"Ssh!" exclaimed the latter warningly. "Get back. They're ashore."

"The pirates?" asked Mostyn.

"Yes, unfortunately," replied Burgoyne. "They brought up off the little creek and hoisted Yankee colours. Thought they'd have us cold, but it didn't come off. I waited under a bush – rather longer than I intended, perhaps; but, you see, I wanted to make sure of their little game. After a bit they got tired of seeing the Stars and Stripes at the main truck, so they hauled the bunting down. Up to that point I'd seen only three men aboard; but by this time they'd come to the conclusion that we weren't having any. So they launched a boat and rowed ashore: eight men armed with rifles, and our old friend Strogoff sporting a pair of automatics. I thought it high time to sheer off, so I crept back for about fifty yards and again watched developments."

"Eight of 'em, not a-countin' Black Strogoff, were you sayin', sir?" inquired Minalto thoughtfully. "Sure, 'tes long odds, wi' only a pistol an' a cutlass 'twixt three on us. Was there more on 'em left aboard, sir?"

"I cannot say, Jasper. More than likely there were, but I didn't see them. They'd hardly all go ashore."

"Ef us could slip along, like," resumed Jasper, "an' swim off to the schooner – When all's nice an' dark like."

"They'll probably go on board again to-night," said Burgoyne. "We'll have to think things out a bit. But when I left them they were smashing up our happy home just out of sheer mischief. When they've got tired of that they'll begin searching the island, so we had better lie low and keep quiet."

Presently the four fugitives heard the sounds of men forcing their way through the undergrowth, uttering fierce oaths in half a dozen different languages and occasionally firing their rifles. During intervals between the din, Black Strogoff's voice could be heard shouting an ultimatum to the objects of his search, to the effect that if they gave themselves up without further trouble, "including the young woman" ("so they know," thought Alwyn), their lives would be spared. Otherwise he, Strogoff, would search the island from end to end and shoot the men down without mercy.

The pirates were evidently following a trail, which turned out to be the well-trodden path leading to the summit of the look-out hill. So keen were they on the obvious track that they failed entirely to notice the tell-tale broken brushwood concealing the mouth of the cave.

After the sounds of the pursuit had died away in the distance, Jasper proposed that he should go out and see what was happening in the lagoon.

"No, you don't," said Burgoyne decidedly. "Ten to one you'll play straight into their hands, if you did. I shouldn't be at all surprised to know that they had posted snipers at various intervals to pick us off if we ventured out. Patience and discretion, Jasper. That's our motto for the present. How about grub?"

Another candle was lighted. They were of a kind known in the Royal Navy as "candles, lantern, ship's police ", and in their present condition might be reckoned upon to burn four or five hours; so with the stock at their command the fugitives were not likely to be compelled to sit in the darkness.