"Bart!" cried the captain, passionately, "I've thought a hundred times; and if I were ashore, and could go there--"
"I know," said Bart, gloomily. "You'd come out more and more savage and determined, as you always have been. Think twice, my lad. You're rich; and you're safe. Once more, why not throw it up now and let's go home.
I asks no more, captain. I've lived long enough to know all that; but come home now. There's a life o' peace yonder, and you can take it now; to-morrow it may be too late."
"Let it be so then, Bart."
"And you'll come home--to old Devon once again?"
"No! I'm going to meet the captain face to face, Bart, and plant my heel upon his neck."
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
NEWS AT LAST.
Humphrey Armstrong sat in his cabin listening to the whirr of a beetle which had been attracted by the lights, and flown in through the open window, to make a bass to the treble hum of the mosquitoes which haunted the mouth of the river where the ship had anchored for the night.
The day had been intensely hot, and the cabin seemed ovenlike, as its occupant sat listening to the insect hum; and then to the strange croakings and rustling noises which came from the primeval forest on either side. Now and then a deep roar announced the presence of some huge creature of the cat tribe prowling in search of prey, and this would be followed by a distant answering call.
He walked to the window and looked out, to see the stars reflected in a blurred manner in the rushing waters of the river; while on either side he could see the bushes which fringed the muddy banks scintillating with the lamps of the fireflies. Now they died out, and there would be only a faint twinkle here and there; then, as if something had disturbed or agitated the wondrous insects, they would flash out into soft, lambent sparks of light which played about and darted and circled, and then once more died out, as if to give place to some other creature of their kind, which flashed out so broad a light that the leaves of the trees around could be plainly seen.
He had been away five days since the orders had come out for his return, in the vain hope that perhaps now he might at last encounter the buccaneer; but, so far, he had seen or heard nothing; and the pirate captain might have dropped out of sight, or never existed, on the evening when the captain searched creek after creek along the coast, till nightfall, when, for safety's sake, he had anchored at the mouth of the muddy stream.
He was lost in thought, and was puzzling out an answer to the question: How was it that the buccaneer schooner contrived to avoid him?--when his trained ears detected the sound of a paddle, and he gazed keenly over the dark waters, wondering whether his watch on deck had heard it, and how long they would be ere they challenged the approaching party in their boat?
The question had hardly been mentally asked when he heard the challenge from on deck, and the paddling ceased. Then came a certain amount of shouting, and a conversation, muffled by the distance, followed, and the boat was allowed to approach.
A minute later the officer of the watch came down to announce the arrival of a couple of Indians bearing news.
"It's the old story, sir, vamped up to get a bottle of rum; but I thought I'd better report it to you. Shall I kick them, and let them go!"
"No," said the captain, shortly, for he was ready now to snatch at straws. "What does the man say?"
"There are two of them, sir; and they say the pirate vessel is to be found a day's journey to the south, and that they have seen it lying at anchor."
"Do they seem honest!"
"Honest as Indians, sir. I think it's all made up."
"I'll come and see them."
The captain rose and went on deck, where he found a couple of soft, brown, plump-looking Indians, with large, dreamy eyes and languid manner, seated upon their heels near the gangway, where they could give a glance from time to time at their canoe swinging by a frail-looking bark rope.
The men did not stir as the captain came up, but crouched in their old position, gazing up at him furtively.
"Now," he said, sharply, "where is this pirate ship?"
The men looked at him vacantly.
"Commodore Junk!" said Humphrey.
"El Commodore Yunk; yes. Ship there."
One of the Indians had caught his meaning, and pointed southward.
"Have you seen the ship?"
The men nodded quickly and pointed again.
"Why have you come here to tell us?"
The Indian stared, then looked at his companion, with whom he rapidly exchanged a few words, ending by turning back, holding out his hands, and exclaiming--
"El Commodore Yunk. Money. Rum."
"There's a frankness about this fellow that makes me disposed to believe him," said Humphrey, grimly, as he smiled at the officer. "'Commodore Yunk. Money. Rum.' And the pointing seems to me as effective as the longest speech. Look here, can you understand? Show us--"
"Show--show--way--El Commodore Yunk."
"Yes, that will do," said the captain. "But mind this; if you play us false--here, show him!"
"Show--El Commodore Yunk," cried the Indian, catching the last words.
"Money--powd--rum."
"You shall have plenty," said Humphrey; "but make him understand that if he plays us false he shall be hung at the yard-arm."
The officer of the watch, quite a young man, seemed to enjoy his task; for, catching up the signal halyards, he rapidly made a noose, threw it over the Indian's head, and drew it tight. Then, pointing upward, he said slowly--
"If you cheat!"
"Hang um?" said the Indian, sharply.
"Yes. We shall hang you if you don't show Commodore Junk."
"Show El Commodore Yunk," said the Indian, composedly.
"I think he understands us," said the officer of the watch.
"Very well, then," cried Humphrey. "Let's start, then, at once. Now, then, south!" he cried to the man.
"South?" said the Indian.
"Yes, south!" cried the captain, pointing. "Show us the way."
"Show. El Commodore Yunk. No."
He shook his head, and pointed around him, and then to the lanterns, which shed a dim light over the scene.