章节正文
mountains and dolphins and ships and anchors around the edge.
There was our bay, all right. Two crosses were marked on the
land part--one labelled "oro" and the other "agua."
"Now there's the high cliff," says Anderson, following it out,
"and there's the round hill with the boulder--and if them
bearings don't point due for that ravine, the devil's a
preacher."
We tried it again, with the same result. A second inspection of
the map brought us no light on the question. We talked it over,
and looked at it from all points, but we couldn't dodge the
truth: the chart was wrong.
Then we explored several of the nearest gullies, but without
finding anything but loose stones baked hot in the sun.
By now it was getting towards sundown, so we built us a fire of
mesquite on the beach, made us supper, and boiled a pot of beans.
We talked it over. The water was about gone.
"That's what we've got to find first," said Simpson, "no question
of it. It's God knows how far to the next water, and we don't
know how long it will take us to get there in that little boat.
If we run our water entirely out before we start, we're going to
be in trouble. We'll have a good look to-morrow, and if we don't
find her, we'll run down to Mollyhay[4] and get a few extra
casks."
[4] Mulege - I retain the Old Timer's pronunciation.
"Perhaps that map is wrong about the treasure, too," suggested
Denton.
"I thought of that," said Handy Solomon, "but then, thinks I to
myself, this old rip probably don't make no long stay here--just
dodges in and out like, between tides, to bury his loot. He
would need no water at the time; but he might when he came back,
so he marked the water on his map. But he wasn't noways
particular AND exact, being in a hurry. But you can kiss the
Book to it that he didn't make no such mistakes about the swag."
"I believe you're right," said I.
When we came to turn in, Anderson suggested that he should sleep
aboard the boat. But Billy Simpson, in mind perhaps of the
hundred ounces in the compass-box, insisted that he'd just as
soon as not. After a little objection Handy Solomon gave in, but
I thought he seemed sour about it. We built a good fire, and in
about ten seconds were asleep.
Now, usually I sleep like a log, and did this time until about
midnight. Then all at once I came broad awake and sitting up in
my blankets. Nothing had happened--I wasn't even dreaming--but
there I was as alert and clear as though it were broad noon.
By the light of the fire I saw Handy Solomon sitting, and at his
side our five rifles gathered.
I must have made some noise, for he turned quietly toward me, saw
I was awake, and nodded. The moonlight was sparkling on the hard
stony landscape, and a thin dampness came out from the sea.
After a minute Anderson threw on another stick of wood, yawned,
and stood up.
"It's wet," said he; "I've been fixing the guns."
He showed me how he was inserting a little patch of felt between
the hammer and the nipple, a scheme of his own for keeping damp
from the powder. Then he rolled up in his blanket. At the time
it all seemed quite natural--I suppose my mind wasn't fully
awake, for all my head felt so clear. Afterwards I realised what
a ridiculous bluff he was making: for of course the cap already
on the nipple was plenty to keep out the damp. I fully believe
he intended to kill us as we lay. Only my sudden awakening
spoiled his plan.
I had absolutely no idea of this at the time, however. Not the
slightest suspicion entered my head. In view of that fact, I
have since believed in guardian angels. For my next move, which
at the time seemed to me absolutelyaimless, was to change my
blankets from one side of the fire to the other. And that
brought me alongside the five rifles.
Owing to this fact, I am now convinced, we awoke safe at
daylight, cooked breakfast, and laid the plan for the day.
Anderson directed us. I was to climb over the ridge before us
and search in the ravine on the other side. Schwartz was to
explore up the beach to the left, and Denton to the right.
Anderson said he would wait for Billy Simpson, who had overslept
in the darkness of the cubbyhole, and who was now paddling
ashore. The two of them would push inland to the west until a
high hill would give them a chance to look around for greenery.
We started at once, before the sun would be hot. The hill I had
to climb was steep and covered with chollas, so I didn't get
along very fast. When I was about half way to the top I heard a
shot from the beach. I looked back. Anderson was in the small
boat, rowing rapidly out to the vessel. Denton was running up
the beach from one direction and Schwartz from the other. I slid
and slipped down the bluff, getting pretty well stuck up with the
cholla spines.
At the beach we found Billy Simpson lying on his ace, shot
through the back. We turned him over, but he was apparently
dead. Anderson had hoisted the sail, had cut loose from the
anchor, and was sailing away.
Denton stood up straight and tall, looking. Then he pulled his
belt in a hole, grabbed my arm, and started to run up the long
curve of the beach. Behind us came Schwartz. We ran near a
mile, and then fell among some tules in an inlet at the farther
point.
"What is it?" I gasped.
"Our only chance--to get him-- said Denton. "He's got to go
around this point--big wind--perhaps his mast will bust--then
he'll come ashore--" He opened and shut his big brown hands.
So there we two fools lay, like panthers in the tules, taking our
only one-in-a-million chance to lay hands on Anderson. Any
sailor could have told us that the mast wouldn't break, but we
had winded Schwartz a quarter of a mile back. And so we waited,
our eyes fixed on the boat's sail, grudging her every inch, just
burning to fix things to suit us a little better. And naturally
she made the point in what I now know was only a fresh breeze,
squared away, and dropped down before the wind toward Guaymas.
We walked back slowly to our camp, swallowing the copper taste of
too hard a run. Schwartz we picked up from a boulder, just
recovering. We were all of us crazy mad. Schwartz half wept,
and blamed and cussed. Denton glowered away in silence. I
ground my feet into the sand in a help less sort of anger, not
only at the man himself, but also at the whole way things had
turned out. I don't believe the least notion of our predicament
had come to any of us. All we knew yet was that we had been done
up, and we were hostile about it.
But at camp we found something to occupy us for the moment. Poor
Billy was not dead, as we had supposed, but very weak and sick,
and a hole square through him. When we returned he was
conscious, but that was about all. His eyes were shut, and he
was moaning. I tore open his shirt to stanch the blood. He felt
my hand and opened his eyes. They were glazed, and I don't think
he saw me.
"Water, water!" he cried.
At that we others saw all at once where we stood. I remember I
rose to my feet and found myself staring straight into Tom
Denton's eyes. We looked at each other that way for I guess it
was a full minute. Then Tom shook his head.
"Water, water!" begged poor Billy.
Tom leaned over him.
"My God, Billy, there ain't any water!" said he.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BURIED TREASURE
The Old Timer's voice broke a little. We had leisure to notice
that even the drip from the eaves had ceased. A faint, diffused
light vouchsafed us dim outlines of sprawling figures and
tumbled bedding. Far in the distance outside a wolf yelped.
We could do nothing for him except shelter him from the sun, and
wet his forehead with sea-water; nor could we think clearly for
ourselves as long as the spark of life lingered in him. His
chest rose and fell regularly, but with long pauses between.
When the sun was overhead he suddenly opened his eyes.
"Fellows," said he, "it's beautiful over there; the grass is so
green, and the water so cool; I am tired of marching, and I
reckon I'll cross over and camp."
Then he died. We scooped out a shallow hole above tide-mark,
and laid him in it, and piled over him stones from the wash.
Then we went back to the beach, very solemn, to talk it over.
"Now, boys," said I, "there seems to me just one thing to do, and
that is to pike out for water as fast as we can."
"Where?" asked Denton.
"Well," I argued, "I don't believe there's any water about this
bay. Maybe there was when that chart was made. It was a long
time ago. And any way, the old pirate was a sailor, and no
plainsman, and maybe he mistook rainwater for a spring. We've
looked around this end of the bay. The chances are we'd use up
two or three days exploring around the other, and then wouldn't
be as well off as we are right now."
"Which way?" asked Denton again, mighty brief.
"Well," said I, "there's one thing I've always noticed in case of
folks held up by the desert: they generally go wandering about
here and there looking for water until they die not far from
where they got lost. And usually they've covered a heap of
actual distance."
"That's so," agreed Denton.
"Now, I've always figured that it would be a good deal better to
start right out for some particular place, even if it's ten
thousand miles away. A man is just as likely to strike water
going in a straight line as he is going in a circle; and then,
besides, he's getting somewhere."
"Correct," said Denton,
"So," I finished, "I reckon we'd better follow the coast south
and try to get to Mollyhay."
"How far is that?" asked Schwartz.
"I don't rightly know. But somewheres between three and five
hundred miles, at a guess."
At that he fell to glowering and grooming with himself, brooding
over what a hard time it was going to be. That is the way with a
German. First off he's plumb scared at the prospect of suffering
anything, and would rather die right off than take long chances.
After he gets into the swing of it, he behaves as well as any
man.
"We took stock of what we had to depend on. The total assets
proved to be just three pairs of legs. A pot of coffee had been
on the fire, but that villain had kicked it over when he left.
The kettle of beans was there, but somehow we got the notion they
might have been poisoned, so we left them. I don't know now why
we were so foolish--if poison was his game, he'd have tried it
before--but at that time it seemed reasonable enough. Perhaps
the horror of the morning's work, and the sight of the
brittle-brown mountains, and the ghastly yellow glare of the sun,
and the blue waves racing by outside, and the big strong wind
that blew through us so hard that it seemed to blow empty our
souls, had turned our judgment. Anyway, we left a full meal
there in the beanpot.
So without any further delay we set off up the ridge I had
started to cross that morning. Schwartz lagged, sulky as a muley
cow, but we managed to keep him with us. At the top of the ridge
we took our bearings for the next deep bay. Already we had made
up our minds to stick to the sea-coast, both on account of the
lower country over which to travel and the off chance of falling
in with a fishingvessel. Schwartz muttered something about its
being too far even to the next bay, and wanted to sit down on a
There was our bay, all right. Two crosses were marked on the
land part--one labelled "oro" and the other "agua."
"Now there's the high cliff," says Anderson, following it out,
"and there's the round hill with the boulder--and if them
bearings don't point due for that ravine, the devil's a
preacher."
We tried it again, with the same result. A second inspection of
the map brought us no light on the question. We talked it over,
and looked at it from all points, but we couldn't dodge the
truth: the chart was wrong.
Then we explored several of the nearest gullies, but without
finding anything but loose stones baked hot in the sun.
By now it was getting towards sundown, so we built us a fire of
mesquite on the beach, made us supper, and boiled a pot of beans.
We talked it over. The water was about gone.
"That's what we've got to find first," said Simpson, "no question
of it. It's God knows how far to the next water, and we don't
know how long it will take us to get there in that little boat.
If we run our water entirely out before we start, we're going to
be in trouble. We'll have a good look to-morrow, and if we don't
find her, we'll run down to Mollyhay[4] and get a few extra
casks."
[4] Mulege - I retain the Old Timer's pronunciation.
"Perhaps that map is wrong about the treasure, too," suggested
Denton.
"I thought of that," said Handy Solomon, "but then, thinks I to
myself, this old rip probably don't make no long stay here--just
dodges in and out like, between tides, to bury his loot. He
would need no water at the time; but he might when he came back,
so he marked the water on his map. But he wasn't noways
particular AND exact, being in a hurry. But you can kiss the
Book to it that he didn't make no such mistakes about the swag."
"I believe you're right," said I.
When we came to turn in, Anderson suggested that he should sleep
aboard the boat. But Billy Simpson, in mind perhaps of the
hundred ounces in the compass-box, insisted that he'd just as
soon as not. After a little objection Handy Solomon gave in, but
I thought he seemed sour about it. We built a good fire, and in
about ten seconds were asleep.
Now, usually I sleep like a log, and did this time until about
midnight. Then all at once I came broad awake and sitting up in
my blankets. Nothing had happened--I wasn't even dreaming--but
there I was as alert and clear as though it were broad noon.
By the light of the fire I saw Handy Solomon sitting, and at his
side our five rifles gathered.
I must have made some noise, for he turned quietly toward me, saw
I was awake, and nodded. The moonlight was sparkling on the hard
stony landscape, and a thin dampness came out from the sea.
After a minute Anderson threw on another stick of wood, yawned,
and stood up.
"It's wet," said he; "I've been fixing the guns."
He showed me how he was inserting a little patch of felt between
the hammer and the nipple, a scheme of his own for keeping damp
from the powder. Then he rolled up in his blanket. At the time
it all seemed quite natural--I suppose my mind wasn't fully
awake, for all my head felt so clear. Afterwards I realised what
a ridiculous bluff he was making: for of course the cap already
on the nipple was plenty to keep out the damp. I fully believe
he intended to kill us as we lay. Only my sudden awakening
spoiled his plan.
I had absolutely no idea of this at the time, however. Not the
slightest suspicion entered my head. In view of that fact, I
have since believed in guardian angels. For my next move, which
at the time seemed to me absolutelyaimless, was to change my
blankets from one side of the fire to the other. And that
brought me alongside the five rifles.
Owing to this fact, I am now convinced, we awoke safe at
daylight, cooked breakfast, and laid the plan for the day.
Anderson directed us. I was to climb over the ridge before us
and search in the ravine on the other side. Schwartz was to
explore up the beach to the left, and Denton to the right.
Anderson said he would wait for Billy Simpson, who had overslept
in the darkness of the cubbyhole, and who was now paddling
ashore. The two of them would push inland to the west until a
high hill would give them a chance to look around for greenery.
We started at once, before the sun would be hot. The hill I had
to climb was steep and covered with chollas, so I didn't get
along very fast. When I was about half way to the top I heard a
shot from the beach. I looked back. Anderson was in the small
boat, rowing rapidly out to the vessel. Denton was running up
the beach from one direction and Schwartz from the other. I slid
and slipped down the bluff, getting pretty well stuck up with the
cholla spines.
At the beach we found Billy Simpson lying on his ace, shot
through the back. We turned him over, but he was apparently
dead. Anderson had hoisted the sail, had cut loose from the
anchor, and was sailing away.
Denton stood up straight and tall, looking. Then he pulled his
belt in a hole, grabbed my arm, and started to run up the long
curve of the beach. Behind us came Schwartz. We ran near a
mile, and then fell among some tules in an inlet at the farther
point.
"What is it?" I gasped.
"Our only chance--to get him-- said Denton. "He's got to go
around this point--big wind--perhaps his mast will bust--then
he'll come ashore--" He opened and shut his big brown hands.
So there we two fools lay, like panthers in the tules, taking our
only one-in-a-million chance to lay hands on Anderson. Any
sailor could have told us that the mast wouldn't break, but we
had winded Schwartz a quarter of a mile back. And so we waited,
our eyes fixed on the boat's sail, grudging her every inch, just
burning to fix things to suit us a little better. And naturally
she made the point in what I now know was only a fresh breeze,
squared away, and dropped down before the wind toward Guaymas.
We walked back slowly to our camp, swallowing the copper taste of
too hard a run. Schwartz we picked up from a boulder, just
recovering. We were all of us crazy mad. Schwartz half wept,
and blamed and cussed. Denton glowered away in silence. I
ground my feet into the sand in a help less sort of anger, not
only at the man himself, but also at the whole way things had
turned out. I don't believe the least notion of our predicament
had come to any of us. All we knew yet was that we had been done
up, and we were hostile about it.
But at camp we found something to occupy us for the moment. Poor
Billy was not dead, as we had supposed, but very weak and sick,
and a hole square through him. When we returned he was
conscious, but that was about all. His eyes were shut, and he
was moaning. I tore open his shirt to stanch the blood. He felt
my hand and opened his eyes. They were glazed, and I don't think
he saw me.
"Water, water!" he cried.
At that we others saw all at once where we stood. I remember I
rose to my feet and found myself staring straight into Tom
Denton's eyes. We looked at each other that way for I guess it
was a full minute. Then Tom shook his head.
"Water, water!" begged poor Billy.
Tom leaned over him.
"My God, Billy, there ain't any water!" said he.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
BURIED TREASURE
The Old Timer's voice broke a little. We had leisure to notice
that even the drip from the eaves had ceased. A faint, diffused
light vouchsafed us dim outlines of sprawling figures and
tumbled bedding. Far in the distance outside a wolf yelped.
We could do nothing for him except shelter him from the sun, and
wet his forehead with sea-water; nor could we think clearly for
ourselves as long as the spark of life lingered in him. His
chest rose and fell regularly, but with long pauses between.
When the sun was overhead he suddenly opened his eyes.
"Fellows," said he, "it's beautiful over there; the grass is so
green, and the water so cool; I am tired of marching, and I
reckon I'll cross over and camp."
Then he died. We scooped out a shallow hole above tide-mark,
and laid him in it, and piled over him stones from the wash.
Then we went back to the beach, very solemn, to talk it over.
"Now, boys," said I, "there seems to me just one thing to do, and
that is to pike out for water as fast as we can."
"Where?" asked Denton.
"Well," I argued, "I don't believe there's any water about this
bay. Maybe there was when that chart was made. It was a long
time ago. And any way, the old pirate was a sailor, and no
plainsman, and maybe he mistook rainwater for a spring. We've
looked around this end of the bay. The chances are we'd use up
two or three days exploring around the other, and then wouldn't
be as well off as we are right now."
"Which way?" asked Denton again, mighty brief.
"Well," said I, "there's one thing I've always noticed in case of
folks held up by the desert: they generally go wandering about
here and there looking for water until they die not far from
where they got lost. And usually they've covered a heap of
actual distance."
"That's so," agreed Denton.
"Now, I've always figured that it would be a good deal better to
start right out for some particular place, even if it's ten
thousand miles away. A man is just as likely to strike water
going in a straight line as he is going in a circle; and then,
besides, he's getting somewhere."
"Correct," said Denton,
"So," I finished, "I reckon we'd better follow the coast south
and try to get to Mollyhay."
"How far is that?" asked Schwartz.
"I don't rightly know. But somewheres between three and five
hundred miles, at a guess."
At that he fell to glowering and grooming with himself, brooding
over what a hard time it was going to be. That is the way with a
German. First off he's plumb scared at the prospect of suffering
anything, and would rather die right off than take long chances.
After he gets into the swing of it, he behaves as well as any
man.
"We took stock of what we had to depend on. The total assets
proved to be just three pairs of legs. A pot of coffee had been
on the fire, but that villain had kicked it over when he left.
The kettle of beans was there, but somehow we got the notion they
might have been poisoned, so we left them. I don't know now why
we were so foolish--if poison was his game, he'd have tried it
before--but at that time it seemed reasonable enough. Perhaps
the horror of the morning's work, and the sight of the
brittle-brown mountains, and the ghastly yellow glare of the sun,
and the blue waves racing by outside, and the big strong wind
that blew through us so hard that it seemed to blow empty our
souls, had turned our judgment. Anyway, we left a full meal
there in the beanpot.
So without any further delay we set off up the ridge I had
started to cross that morning. Schwartz lagged, sulky as a muley
cow, but we managed to keep him with us. At the top of the ridge
we took our bearings for the next deep bay. Already we had made
up our minds to stick to the sea-coast, both on account of the
lower country over which to travel and the off chance of falling
in with a fishingvessel. Schwartz muttered something about its
being too far even to the next bay, and wanted to sit down on a
- retain [ri´tein]
vt.保持；保留；留住 (初中英语单词) - objection [əb´dʒekʃən] n.反对；异议；缺点 (初中英语单词)
- moonlight [´mu:nlait] n.&a.月光(的) (初中英语单词)
- hammer [´hæmə] n.锤子 v.重击 (初中英语单词)
- scheme [ski:m] n.计划；阴谋，诡计 (初中英语单词)
- absolutely [´æbsəlu:tli] ad.绝对地；确实 (初中英语单词)
- suspicion [sə´spiʃən] n.怀(猜)疑；嫌疑 (初中英语单词)
- aimless [´eimlis] a.没有目标；无目的的 (初中英语单词)
- vessel [´vesəl] n.容器；船；脉管 (初中英语单词)
- running [´rʌniŋ] a.奔跑的；流动的 (初中英语单词)
- copper [´kɔpə] n.铜 a.铜制的 (初中英语单词)
- hostile [´hɔstail] a.敌方的，敌意的 (初中英语单词)
- supposed [sə´pəuzd] a.想象的；假定的 (初中英语单词)
- forehead [´fɔrid] n.额，前部 (初中英语单词)
- overhead [´əuvə,hed] ad.当头 a.在头上的 (初中英语单词)
- shallow [´ʃæləu] a.肤浅的；表面的 (初中英语单词)
- solemn [´sɔləm] a.严肃的；隆重的 (初中英语单词)
- circle [´sə:kəl] n.圆圈 v.环绕；盘旋 (初中英语单词)
- reckon [´rekən] v.计算；认为；估计 (初中英语单词)
- prospect [´prɔspekt, prəs´pekt] n.景色；境界 v.勘察 (初中英语单词)
- kettle [´ketl] n.水壶 (初中英语单词)
- poison [´pɔizən] n.毒物 v.毒害 a.有毒的 (初中英语单词)
- reasonable [´rizənəbəl] a.合理的；有理智的 (初中英语单词)
- horror [´hɔrə] n.恐怖；战栗 (初中英语单词)
- account [ə´kaunt] vi.说明 vt.认为 n.帐目 (初中英语单词)
- inspection [in´spekʃən] n.检查；视察；参观 (高中英语单词)
- solomon [´sɔləmən] n.所罗门 (高中英语单词)
- landscape [´lændskeip] n.风景；景色；风景画 (高中英语单词)
- ridiculous [ri´dikjuləs] a.荒谬的；可笑的 (高中英语单词)
- guardian [´gɑ:diən] n.监护人；保护人 (高中英语单词)
- alongside [əlɔŋ´said] ad.在旁 prep.横靠 (高中英语单词)
- inland [´inlənd, in´lænd] a.&n.内地的 ad.在内地 (高中英语单词)
- leisure [´leʒə] n.空闲；悠闲；安定 (高中英语单词)
- regularly [´regjuləli] ad.有规律地；经常地 (高中英语单词)
- pirate [´paiərət] n.海盗 v.做海盗；掠夺 (高中英语单词)
- mighty [´maiti] a.强有力的 ad.很 (高中英语单词)
- ghastly [´gɑ:stli] a.苍白的；可怕的 (高中英语单词)
- ravine [rə´vi:n] n.沟壑；深谷 (英语四级单词)
- boulder [´bəuldə] n.大石头，卵石；巨砾 (英语四级单词)
- rightly [´raitli] ad.正义地；正确地 (英语四级单词)
- villain [´vilən] n.坏人；恶棍；反面角色 (英语四级单词)
- fishing [´fiʃiŋ] n.钓鱼；捕鱼；渔业 (英语四级单词)
- sundown [´sʌndaun] n.日落 (英语六级单词)
- taking [´teikiŋ] a.迷人的 n.捕获物 (英语六级单词)
- bedding [´bediŋ] n.寝具；垫草；基础 (英语六级单词)
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章节正文
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