THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN HORN

                          BY FRANK R. STOCKTON

                                  1910




CONTENTS

CHAPTER

       I An Introductory Disaster

      II A New Face in Camp

     III A Change of Lodgings

      IV Another New Face

       V The Rackbirds

      VI Three Weld Beasts

     VII Gone!

    VIII The Alarm

      IX An Amazing Narration

       X The Captain Explores

      XI A New Hemisphere

     XII A Tradition and a Waistcoat

    XIII "Mine!"

     XIV A Pile of Fuel

      XV The Cliff-Maka Scheme

     XVI On a Business Basis

    XVII "A Fine Thing, No Matter What Happens"

   XVIII Mrs. Cliff is Amazed

     XIX Left Behind

      XX At the Rackbirds' Cove

     XXI In the Caves

    XXII A Pack-Mule

   XXIII His Present Share

    XXVI His Fortune under his Feet




THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN HORN




CHAPTER I

AN INTRODUCTORY DISASTER


Early in the spring of the year 1884 the three-masted schooner _Castor_,
from San Francisco to Valparaiso, was struck by a tornado off the coast
of Peru. The storm, which rose with frightful suddenness, was of short
duration, but it left the _Castor_ a helpless wreck. Her masts had
snapped off and gone overboard, her rudder-post had been shattered by
falling wreckage, and she was rolling in the trough of the sea, with her
floating masts and spars thumping and bumping her sides.

The _Castor_ was an American merchant-vessel, commanded by Captain Philip
Horn, an experienced navigator of about thirty-five years of age. Besides
a valuable cargo, she carried three passengers--two ladies and a boy. One
of these, Mrs. William Cliff, a lady past middle age, was going to
Valparaiso to settle some business affairs of her late husband, a New
England merchant. The other lady was Miss Edna Markham, a school-teacher
who had just passed her twenty-fifth year, although she looked older.
She was on her way to Valparaiso to take an important position in an
American seminary. Ralph, a boy of fifteen, was her brother, and she was
taking him with her simply because she did not want to leave him alone in
San Francisco. These two had no near relations, and the education of the
brother depended upon the exertions of the sister. Valparaiso was not the
place she would have selected for a boy's education, but there they could
be together, and, under the circumstances, that was a point of prime
importance.

But when the storm had passed, and the sky was clear, and the mad waves
had subsided into a rolling swell, there seemed no reason to believe that
any one on board the _Castor_ would ever reach Valparaiso. The vessel had
been badly strained by the wrenching of the masts, her sides had been
battered by the floating wreckage, and she was taking in water rapidly.
Fortunately, no one had been injured by the storm, and although the
captain found it would be a useless waste of time and labor to attempt to
work the pumps, he was convinced, after a careful examination, that the
ship would float some hours, and that there would, therefore, be time for
those on board to make an effort to save not only their lives, but some
of their property.

All the boats had been blown from their davits, but one of them was
floating, apparently uninjured, a short distance to leeward, one of the
heavy blocks by which it had been suspended having caught in the cordage
of the topmast, so that it was securely moored. Another boat, a small
one, was seen, bottom upward, about an eighth of a mile to leeward. Two
seamen, each pushing an oar before him, swam out to the nearest boat,
and having got on board of her, and freed her from her entanglements,
they rowed out to the capsized boat, and towed it to the schooner. When
this boat had been righted and bailed out, it was found to be in good
condition.

The sea had become almost quiet, and there was time enough to do
everything orderly and properly, and in less than three hours after the
vessel had been struck, the two boats, containing all the crew and the
passengers, besides a goodly quantity of provisions and water, and such
valuables, clothing, rugs, and wraps as room could be found for, were
pulling away from the wreck.

The captain, who, with his passengers, was in the larger boat, was aware
that he was off the coast of Peru, but that was all he certainly knew of
his position. The storm had struck the ship in the morning, before he had
taken his daily observation, and his room, which was on deck, had been
carried away, as well as every nautical instrument on board. He did not
believe that the storm had taken him far out of his course, but of this
he could not be sure. All that he knew with certainty was that to the
eastward lay the land, and eastward, therefore, they pulled, a little
compass attached to the captain's watch-guard being their only guide.

For the rest of that day and that night, and the next day and the next
night, the two boats moved eastward, the people on board suffering but
little inconvenience, except from the labor of continuous rowing, at
which everybody, excepting the two ladies, took part, even Ralph
Markham being willing to show how much of a man he could be with an
oar in his hand.

The weather was fine, and the sea was almost smooth, and as the captain
had rigged up in his boat a tent-like covering of canvas for the ladies,
they were, as they repeatedly declared, far more comfortable than they
had any right to expect. They were both women of resource and courage.
Mrs. Cliff, tall, thin in face, with her gray hair brushed plainly over
her temples, was a woman of strong frame, who would have been perfectly
willing to take an oar, had it been necessary. To Miss Markham this boat
trip would have been a positive pleasure, had it not been for the
unfortunate circumstances which made it necessary.

On the morning of the third day land was sighted, but it was afternoon
before they reached it. Here they found themselves on a portion of the
coast where the foot-hills of the great mountains stretch themselves
almost down to the edge of the ocean. To all appearances, the shore was
barren and uninhabited.

The two boats rowed along the coast a mile or two to the southward, but
could find no good landing-place, but reaching a spot less encumbered
with rocks than any other portion of the coast they had seen, Captain
Horn determined to try to beach his boat there. The landing was
accomplished in safety, although with some difficulty, and that night was
passed in a little encampment in the shelter of some rocks scarcely a
hundred yards from the sea.

The next morning Captain Horn took counsel with his mates, and considered
the situation. They were on an uninhabited portion of the coast, and it
was not believed that there was any town or settlement near enough to be
reached by waiting over such wild country, especially with ladies in the
party. It was, therefore, determined to seek succor by means of the sea.
They might be near one of the towns or villages along the coast of Peru,
and, in any case, a boat manned by the best oarsmen of the party, and
loaded as lightly as possible, might hope, in the course of a day or two,
to reach some port from which a vessel might be sent out to take off the
remainder of the party.

But first Captain Horn ordered a thorough investigation to be made of the
surrounding country, and in an hour or two a place was found which he
believed would answer very well for a camping-ground until assistance
should arrive. This was on a little plateau about a quarter of a mile
back from the ocean, and surrounded on three sides by precipices, and on
the side toward the sea the ground sloped gradually downward. To this
camping-ground all of the provisions and goods were carried, excepting
what would be needed by the boating party.

When this work had been accomplished, Captain Horn appointed his first
mate to command the expedition, deciding to remain himself in the camp.
When volunteers were called for, it astonished the captain to see how
many of the sailors desired to go.

The larger boat pulled six oars, and seven men, besides the mate Rynders,
were selected to go in her. As soon as she could be made ready she was
launched and started southward on her voyage of discovery, the mate
having first taken such good observation of the landmarks that he felt
sure he would have no difficulty in finding the spot where he left his
companions. The people in the little camp on the bluff now consisted of
Captain Horn, the two ladies, the boy Ralph, three sailors,--one an
Englishman, and the other two Americans from Cape Cod,--and a jet-black
native African, known as Maka.

Captain Horn had not cared to keep many men with him in the camp, because
there they would have little to do, and all the strong arms that could be
spared would be needed in the boat. The three sailors he had retained
were men of intelligence, on whom he believed he could rely in case of
emergency, and Maka was kept because he was a cook. He had been one of
the cargo of a slave-ship which had been captured by a British cruiser
several years before, when on its way to Cuba, and the unfortunate
negroes had been landed in British Guiana. It was impossible to return
them to Africa, because none of them could speak English, or in any way
give an idea as to what tribes they belonged, and if they should be
landed anywhere in Africa except among their friends, they would be
immediately reГ«nslaved. For some years they lived in Guiana, in a little
colony by themselves, and then, a few of them having learned some
English, they made their way to Panama, where they obtained employment as
laborers on the great canal. Maka, who was possessed of better
intelligence than most of his fellows, improved a good deal in his
English, and learned to cook very well, and having wandered to San
Francisco, had been employed for two or three voyages by Captain Horn.
Maka was a faithful and willing servant, and if he had been able to
express himself more intelligibly, his merits might have been better
appreciated.




CHAPTER II

A NEW FACE IN CAMP


The morning after the departure of the boat, Captain Horn, in company
with the Englishman Davis, each armed with a gun, set out on a tour of
investigation, hoping to be able to ascend the rocky hills at the back of
the camp, and find some elevated point commanding a view over the ocean.
After a good deal of hard climbing they reached such a point, but the
captain found that the main object was really out of his reach. He could
now plainly see that a high rocky point to the southward, which stretched
some distance out to sea, would cut off all view of the approach of
rescuers coming from that direction, until they were within a mile or two
of his landing-place. Back from the sea the hills grew higher, until they
blended into the lofty stretches of the Andes, this being one of the few
points where the hilly country extends to the ocean.

The coast to the north curved a little oceanward, so that a much more
extended view could be had in that direction, but as far as he could see
by means of a little pocket-glass which the boy Ralph had lent him, the
captain could discover no signs of habitation, and in this direction the
land seemed to be a flat desert. When he returned to camp, about noon,
he had made up his mind that the proper thing to do was to make himself
and his companions as comfortable as possible and patiently await the
return of his mate with succor.

Captain Horn was very well satisfied with his present place of
encampment. Although rain is unknown in this western portion of Peru,
which is, therefore, in general desolate and barren, there are parts of
the country that are irrigated by streams which flow from the snow-capped
peaks of the Andes, and one of these fertile spots the captain seemed to
have happened upon. On the plateau there grew a few bushes, while the
face of the rock in places was entirely covered by hanging vines. This
fertility greatly puzzled Captain Horn, for nowhere was to be seen any
stream of water, or signs of there ever having been any. But they had
with them water enough to last for several days, and provisions for a
much longer time, and the captain felt little concern on this account.

As for lodgings, there were none excepting the small tent which he had
put up for the ladies, but a few nights in the open air in that dry
climate would not hurt the male portion of the party.

In the course of the afternoon, the two American sailors came to Captain
Horn and asked permission to go to look for game. The captain had small
hopes of their finding anything suitable for food, but feeling sure that
if they should be successful, every one would be glad of a little fresh
meat, he gave his permission, at the same time requesting the men to do
their best in the way of observation, if they should get up high enough
to survey the country, and discover some signs of habitation, if such
existed in that barren region. It would be a great relief to the captain
to feel that there was some spot of refuge to which, by land or water,
his party might make its way in case the water and provisions gave out
before the return of the mate.

As to the men who went off in the boat, the captain expected to see but a
few of them again. One or two might return with the mate, in such vessel
as he should obtain in which to come for them, but the most of them, if
they reached a seaport, would scatter, after the manner of seamen.

The two sailors departed, promising, if they could not bring back fish or
fowl, to return before dark, with a report of the lay of the land.

It was very well that Maka did not have to depend on these hunters for
the evening meal, for night came without them, and the next morning they
had not returned. The captain was very much troubled. The men must be
lost, or they had met with some accident. There could be no other reason
for their continued absence. They had each a gun, and plenty of powder
and shot, but they had taken only provisions enough for a single meal.

Davis offered to go up the hills to look for the missing men. He had
lived for some years in the bush in Australia, and he thought that
there was a good chance of his discovering their tracks. But the
captain shook his head.

"You are just as likely to get lost, or to fall over a rock, as anybody
else," he said, "and it is better to have two men lost than three. But
there is one thing that you can do. You can go down to the beach, and
make your way southward as far as possible. There you can find your way
back, and if you take a gun, and fire it every now and then, you may
attract the attention of Shirley and Burke, if they are on the hills
above, and perhaps they may even be able to see you as you walk along. If
they are alive, they will probably see or hear you, and fire in answer.
It is a very strange thing that we have not heard a shot from them."

Ralph begged to accompany the Englishman, for he was getting very
restless, and longed for a ramble and scramble. But neither the captain
nor his sister would consent to this, and Davis started off alone.

"If you can round the point down there," said the captain to him, "do it,
for you may see a town or houses not far away on the other side. But
don't take any risks. At all events, make your calculations so that you
will be back here before dark."

The captain and Ralph assisted the two ladies to a ledge of rock near the
camp from which they could watch the Englishman on his way. They saw him
reach the beach, and after going on a short distance he fired his gun,
after which he pressed forward, now and then stopping to fire again. Even
from their inconsiderable elevation they could see him until he must have
been more than a mile away, and he soon after vanished from their view.

As on the previous day darkness came without the two American sailors, so
now it came without the Englishman, and in the morning he had not
returned. Of course, every mind was filled with anxiety in regard to the
three sailors, but Captain Horn's soul was racked with apprehensions of
which he did not speak. The conviction forced itself upon him that the
men had been killed by wild beasts. He could imagine no other reason why
Davis should not have returned. He had been ordered not to leave the
beach, and, therefore, could not lose his way. He was a wary, careful
man, used to exploring rough country, and he was not likely to take any
chances of disabling himself by a fall while on such an expedition.

Although he knew that the great jaguar was found in Peru, as well as
the puma and black bear, the captain had not supposed it likely that
any of these creatures frequented the barren western slopes of the
mountains, but he now reflected that there were lions in the deserts of
Africa, and that the beasts of prey in South America might also be
found in its deserts.

A great responsibility now rested upon Captain Horn. He was the only man
left in camp who could be depended upon as a defender,--for Maka was
known to be a coward, and Ralph was only a boy,--and it was with a
shrinking of the heart that he asked himself what would be the
consequences if a couple of jaguars or other ferocious beasts were to
appear upon that unprotected plateau in the night, or even in the
daytime. He had two guns, but he was only one man. These thoughts were
not cheerful, but the captain's face showed no signs of alarm, or even
unusual anxiety, and, with a smile on his handsome brown countenance, he
bade the ladies good morning as if he were saluting them upon a
quarter-deck.

"I have been thinking all night about those three men," said Miss
Markham, "and I have imagined something which may have happened. Isn't
it possible that they may have discovered at a distance some inland
settlement which could not be seen by the party in the boat, and that
they thought it their duty to push their way to it, and so get
assistance for us? In that case, you know, they would probably be a long
time coming back."

"That is possible," said the captain, glad to hear a hopeful supposition,
but in his heart he had no faith in it whatever. If Davis had seen a
village, or even a house, he would have come back to report it, and if
the others had found human habitation, they would have had ample time to
return, either by land or by sea.

The restless Ralph, who had chafed a good deal because he had not been
allowed to leave the plateau in search of adventure, now found a vent for
his surplus energy, for the captain appointed him fire-maker. The camp
fuel was not abundant, consisting of nothing but some dead branches and
twigs from the few bushes in the neighborhood. These Ralph collected with
great energy, and Maka had nothing to complain of in regard to fuel for
his cooking.

Toward the end of that afternoon, Ralph prepared to make a fire for the
supper, and he determined to change the position of the fireplace and
bring it nearer the rocks, where he thought it would burn better. It did
burn better--so well, indeed, that some of the dry leaves of the vines
that there covered the face of the rocks took fire. Ralph watched with
interest the dry leaves blaze and the green ones splutter, and then he
thought it would be a pity to scorch those vines, which were among the
few green things about them, and he tried to put out the fire. But this
he could not do, and, when he called Maka, the negro was not able to
help him. The fire had worked its way back of the green vines, and seemed
to have found good fuel, for it was soon crackling away at a great rate,
attracting the rest of the party.

"Can't we put it out?" cried Miss Markham. "It is a pity to ruin those
beautiful vines."

The captain smiled and shook his head. "We cannot waste our valuable
water on that conflagration," said he. "There is probably a great mass
of dead vines behind the green outside. How it crackles and roars! That
dead stuff must be several feet thick. All we can do is to let it burn.
It cannot hurt us. It cannot reach your tent, for there are no vines
over there."

The fire continued to roar and blaze, and to leap up the face of the
rock.

"It is wonderful," said Mrs. Cliff, "to think how those vines must have
been growing and dying, and new ones growing and dying, year after year,
nobody knows how many ages."

"What is most wonderful to me," said the captain, "is that the vines ever
grew there at all, or that these bushes should be here. Nothing can grow
in this region, unless it is watered by a stream from the mountains, and
there is no stream here."

Miss Markham was about to offer a supposition to the effect that perhaps
the precipitous wall of rock which surrounded the little plateau, and
shielded it from the eastern sun, might have had a good effect upon the
vegetation, when suddenly Ralph, who had a ship's biscuit on the end of a
sharp stick, and was toasting it in the embers of a portion of the burnt
vines, sprang back with a shout.

"Look out!" he cried. "The whole thing's coming down!" And, sure enough,
in a moment a large portion of the vines, which had been clinging to the
rock, fell upon the ground in a burning mass. A cloud of smoke and dust
arose, and when it had cleared away the captain and his party saw upon
the perpendicular side of the rock, which was now revealed to them as if
a veil had been torn away from in front of it, an enormous face cut out
of the solid stone.




CHAPTER III

A CHANGE OF LODGINGS


The great face stared down upon the little party gathered beneath it. Its
chin was about eight feet above the ground, and its stony countenance
extended at least that distance up the cliff. Its features were in low
relief, but clear and distinct, and a smoke-blackened patch beneath one
of its eyes gave it a sinister appearance. From its wide-stretching mouth
a bit of half-burnt vine hung, trembling in the heated air, and this
element of motion produced the impression on several of the party that
the creature was about to open its lips.

Mrs. Cliff gave a little scream,--she could not help it,--and Maka sank
down on his knees, his back to the rock, and covered his face with his
hands. Ralph was the first to speak.

"There have been heathen around here," he said. "That's a regular idol."

"You are right," said the captain. "That is a bit of old-time work. That
face was cut by the original natives."

The two ladies were so interested, and even excited, that they seized
each other by the hands. Here before their faces was a piece of sculpture
doubtless done by the people of ancient Peru, that people who were
discovered by Pizarro; and this great idol, or whatever it was, had
perhaps never before been seen by civilized eyes. It was wonderful, and
in the conjecture and exclamation of the next half-hour everything else
was forgotten, even the three sailors.

Because the captain was the captain, it was natural that every one
should look to him for some suggestion as to why this great stone face
should have been carved here on this lonely and desolate rock. But he
shook his head.

"I have no ideas about it," he said, "except that it must have been
some sort of a landmark. It looks out toward the sea, and perhaps the
ancient inhabitants put it there so that people in ships, coming near
enough to the coast, should know where they were. Perhaps it was
intended to act as a lighthouse to warn seamen off a dangerous coast.
But I must say that I do not see how it could do that, for they would
have had to come pretty close to the shore to see it, unless they had
better glasses than we have."

The sun was now near the horizon, and Maka was lifted to his feet by the
captain, and ordered to stop groaning in African, and go to work to get
supper on the glowing embers of the vines. He obeyed, of course, but
never did he turn his face upward to that gaunt countenance, which
grinned and winked and frowned whenever a bit of twig blazed up, or the
coals were stirred by the trembling negro.

After supper and until the light had nearly faded from the western sky,
the two ladies sat and watched that vast face upon the rocks, its
features growing more and more solemn as the light decreased.

"I wish I had a long-handled broom," said Mrs. Cliff, "for if the dust
and smoke and ashes of burnt leaves were brushed from off its nose and
eyebrows, I believe it would have a rather gracious expression."

As for the captain, he went walking about on the outlying portion of the
plateau, listening and watching. But it was not stone faces he was
thinking of. That night he did not sleep at all, but sat until day-break,
with a loaded gun across his knees, and another one lying on the ground
beside him.

When Miss Markham emerged from the rude tent the next morning, and came
out into the bright light of day, the first thing she saw was her
brother Ralph, who looked as if he had been sweeping a chimney or
cleaning out an ash-hole.

"What on earth has happened to you!" she cried. "How did you get yourself
so covered with dirt and ashes?"

"I got up ever so long ago," he replied, "and as the captain is asleep
over there, and there was nobody to talk to, I thought I would go and try
to find the back of his head"--pointing to the stone face above them.
"But he hasn't any. He is a sham."

"What do you mean?" asked his sister.

"You see, Edna," said the boy, "I thought I would try if I could find any
more faces, and so I got a bit of stone, and scratched away some of the
burnt vines that had not fallen, and there I found an open place in the
rock on this side of the face. Step this way, and you can see it. It's
like a narrow doorway. I went and looked into it, and saw that it led
back of the big face, and I went in to see what was there."

"You should never have done that, Ralph," cried his sister. "There might
have been snakes in that place, or precipices, or nobody knows what.
What could you expect to see in the dark?"

"It wasn't so dark as you might think," said he. "After my eyes got used
to the place I could see very well. But there was nothing to see--just
walls on each side. There was more of the passageway ahead of me, but I
began to think of snakes myself, and as I did not have a club or anything
to kill them with, I concluded I wouldn't go any farther. It isn't so
very dirty in there. Most of this I got on myself scraping down the burnt
vines. Here comes the captain. He doesn't generally oversleep himself
like this. If he will go with me, we will explore that crack."

When Captain Horn heard of the passage into the rock, he was much more
interested than Ralph had expected him to be, and, without loss of time,
he lighted a lantern and, with the boy behind him, set out to investigate
it. But before entering the cleft, the captain stationed Maka at a place
where he could view all the approaches to the plateau, and told him if he
saw any snakes or other dangerous things approaching, to run to the
opening and call him. Now, snakes were among the few things that Maka was
not afraid of, and so long as he thought these were the enemies to be
watched, he would make a most efficient sentinel.

When Captain Horn had cautiously advanced a couple of yards into the
interior of the rock, he stopped, raised his lantern, and looked about
him. The passage was about two feet wide, the floor somewhat lower than
the ground outside, and the roof but a few feet above his head. It was
plainly the work of man, and not a natural crevice in the rocks. Then
the captain put the lantern behind him, and stared into the gloom ahead
of them. As Ralph had said, it was not so dark as might have been
expected. In fact, about twenty feet forward there was a dim light on the
right-hand wall.

The captain, still followed by Ralph, now moved on until they came to
this lighted place, and found it was an open doorway. Both heads
together, they peeped in, and saw it was an opening like a doorway into a
chamber about fifteen feet square and with very high walls. They scarcely
needed the lantern to examine it, for a jagged opening in the roof let in
a good deal of light.

Passing into this chamber, keeping a good watch out for pitfalls as he
moved on, and forgetting, in his excitement, that he might go so far that
he could not hear Maka, should he call, the captain saw to the right
another open doorway, on the other side of which was another chamber,
about the size of the one they had first entered. One side of this was a
good deal broken away, and through a fracture three or four feet wide the
light entered freely, as if from the open air. But when the two explorers
peered through the ragged aperture, they did not look into the open air,
but into another chamber, very much larger than the others, with high,
irregular walls, but with scarcely any roof, almost the whole of the
upper part being open to the sky.

A mass of broken rocks on the floor of this apartment showed that the
roof had fallen in. The captain entered it and carefully examined it. A
portion of the floor was level and unobstructed by rocks, and in the
walls there was not the slightest sign of a doorway, except the one by
which he had entered from the adjoining chamber.

"Hurrah!" cried Ralph. "Here is a suite of rooms. Isn't this grand? You
and I can have that first one, Maka can sleep in the hall to keep out
burglars, and Edna and Mrs. Cliff can have the middle room, and this open
place here can be their garden, where they can take tea and sew. These
rocks will make splendid tables and chairs."

The captain stood, breathing hard, a sense of relief coming over him like
the warmth of fire. He had thought of what Ralph had said before the boy
had spoken. Here was safety from wild beasts--here was immunity from the
only danger he could imagine to those under his charge. It might be days
yet before the mate returned,--he knew the probable difficulties of
obtaining a vessel, even when a port should be reached,--but they would
be safe here from the attacks of ferocious animals, principally to be
feared in the night. They might well be thankful for such a good place as
this in which to await the arrival of succor, if succor came before their
water gave out. There were biscuits, salt meat, tea, and other things
enough to supply their wants for perhaps a week longer, provided the
three sailors did not return, but the supply of water, although they were
very economical of it, must give out in a day or two. "But," thought the
captain, "Rynders may be back before that, and, on the other hand, a
family of jaguars might scent us out to-night."

"You are right, my boy," said he, speaking to Ralph. "Here is a suite of
rooms, and we will occupy them just as you have said. They are dry and
airy, and it will be far better for us to sleep here than out of doors."

As they returned, Ralph was full of talk about the grand find. But the
captain made no answers to his remarks--his mind was busy contriving some
means of barricading the narrow entrance at night.

When breakfast was over, and the entrance to the rocks had been made
cleaner and easier by the efforts of Maka and Ralph, the ladies were
conducted to the suite of rooms which Ralph had described in such glowing
terms. Both were filled with curiosity to see these apartments,
especially Miss Markham, who was fairly well read in the history of South
America, and who had already imagined that the vast mass of rock by which
they had camped might be in reality a temple of the ancient Peruvians, to
which the stone face was a sacred sentinel. But when the three apartments
had been thoroughly explored she was disappointed.

"There is not a sign or architectural adornment, or anything that seems
to have the least religious significance, or significance of any sort,"
she said. "These are nothing but three stone rooms, with their roofs more
or less broken in. They do not even suggest dungeons."

As for Mrs. Cliff, she did not hesitate to say that she should prefer to
sleep in the open air.

"It would be dreadful," she said, "to awaken in the night and think of
those great stone walls about me."

Even Ralph remarked that, on second thought, he believed he would rather
sleep out of doors, for he liked to look up and see the stars before he
went to sleep.

At first the captain was a little annoyed to find that this place of
safety, the discovery of which had given him such satisfaction and
relief, was looked upon with such disfavor by those who needed it so very
much, but then the thought came to him, "Why should they care about a
place of safety, when they have no idea of danger?" He did not now
hesitate to settle the matter in the most straightforward and honest way.
Having a place of refuge to offer, the time had come to speak of the
danger. And so, standing in the larger apartment, and addressing his
party, he told them of the fate he feared had overtaken the three
sailors, and how anxious he had been lest the same fate should come upon
some one or all of them.

Now vanished every spark of opposition to the captain's proffered
lodgings.

"If we should be here but one night longer," cried Mrs. Cliff, echoing
the captain's thought, "let us be safe."

In the course of the day the two rooms were made as comfortable as
circumstances would allow with the blankets, shawls, and canvas which had
been brought on shore, and that night they all slept in the rock
chambers, the captain having made a barricade for the opening of the
narrow passage with the four oars, which he brought up from the boat.
Even should these be broken down by some wild beast, Captain Horn felt
that, with his two guns at the end of the narrow passage, he might defend
his party from the attacks of any of the savage animals of the country.

The captain slept soundly that night, for he had had but a nap of an
hour or two on the previous morning, and, with Maka stretched in the
passage outside the door of his room, he knew that he would have timely
warning of danger, should any come. But Mrs. Cliff did not sleep well,
spending a large part of the night imagining the descent of active
carnivora down the lofty and perpendicular walls of the large adjoining
apartment.

The next day was passed rather wearily by most of the party in looking
out for signs of a vessel with the returning mate. Ralph had made a flag
which he could wave from a high point near by, in case he should see a
sail, for it would be a great misfortune should Mr. Rynders pass them
without knowing it.

To the captain, however, came a new and terrible anxiety. He had looked
into the water-keg, and saw that it held but a few quarts. It had not
lasted as long as he had expected, for this was a thirsty climate.

The next night Mrs. Cliff slept, having been convinced that not even a
cat could come down those walls. The captain woke very early, and when he
went out he found, to his amazement, that the barricade had been removed,
and he could not see Maka. He thought at first that perhaps the negro had
gone down to the sea-shore to get some water for washing purposes, but an
hour passed, and Maka did not return. The whole party went down to the
beach, for the captain insisted upon all keeping together. They shouted,
they called, they did whatever they could to discover the lost African,
but all without success.

They returned to camp, disheartened and depressed. This new loss had
something terrible in it. What it meant no one could conjecture. There
was no reason why Maka should run away, for there was no place to run to,
and it was impossible that any wild beast should have removed the oars
and carried off the negro.




CHAPTER IV

ANOTHER NEW FACE


As the cook had gone, Mrs. Cliff and Miss Markham prepared breakfast, and
then they discovered how little water there was.

There was something mysterious about the successive losses of his men
which pressed heavily upon the soul of Captain Horn, but the want of
water pressed still more heavily. Ralph had just asked his permission to
go down to the beach and bathe in the sea, saying that as he could not
have all the water he wanted to drink, it might make him feel better to
take a swim in plenty of water. The boy was not allowed to go so far from
camp by himself, but the captain could not help thinking how this poor
fellow would probably feel the next day if help had not arrived, and of
the sufferings of the others, which, by that time, would have begun.
Still, as before, he spoke hopefully, and the two women, as brave as he,
kept up good spirits, and although they each thought of the waterless
morrow, they said nothing about it.

As for Ralph, he confidently expected the return of the men in the
course of the day, as he had done in the course of each preceding day,
and two or three times an hour he was at his post of observation, ready
to wave his flag.

Even had he supposed that it would be of any use to go to look for Maka,
a certain superstitious feeling would have prevented the captain from
doing so. If he should go out, and not return, there would be little hope
for those two women and the boy. But he could not help feeling that
beyond the rocky plateau which stretched out into the sea to the
southward, and which must be at least two miles away, there might be seen
some signs of habitation, and, consequently, of a stream. If anything of
the sort could be seen, it might become absolutely necessary for the
party to make their way toward it, either by land or sea, no matter how
great the fatigue or the danger, and without regard to the fate of those
who had left camp before them.

About half an hour afterwards, when the captain had mounted some rocks
near by, from which he thought he might get a view of the flat region to
the north on which he might discover the missing negro, Ralph, who was
looking seaward, gave a start, and then hurriedly called to his sister
and Mrs. Cliff, and pointed to the beach. There was the figure of a man
which might well be Maka, but, to their amazement and consternation, he
was running, followed, not far behind, by another man. The figures
rapidly approached, and it was soon seen that the first man was Maka, but
that the second figure was not one of the sailors who had left them.
Could he be pursuing Maka? What on earth did it mean?

For some moments Ralph stood dumfounded, and then ran in the direction
in which the captain had gone, and called to him.

At the sound of his voice the second figure stopped and turned as if he
were about to run, but Maka--they were sure it was Maka--seized him by
the arm and held him. Therefore this newcomer could not be pursuing their
man. As the two now came forward, Maka hurrying the other on, Ralph and
his two companions were amazed to see that this second man was also an
African, a negro very much like Maka, and as they drew nearer, the two
looked as if they might have been brothers.

The captain had wandered farther than he had intended, but after several
shouts from Ralph he came running back, and reached the camp-ground just
as the two negroes arrived.

At the sight of this tall man bounding toward him the strange negro
appeared to be seized with a wild terror. He broke away from Maka, and
ran first in this direction and then in that, and perceiving the cleft in
the face of the rock, he blindly rushed into it, as a rat would rush into
a hole. Instantly Maka was after him, and the two were lost to view.

When the captain had been told of the strange thing which had happened,
he stood without a word. Another African! This was a puzzle too great for
his brain.

"Are you sure it was not a native of these parts?" said he, directly.
"You know, they are very dark."

"No!" exclaimed Mrs. Cliff and her companions almost in the same breath,
"it was an African, exactly like Maka."

At this moment a wild yell was heard from the interior of the rocks,
then another and another. Without waiting to consider anything, or hear
any more, the captain dashed into the narrow passage, Ralph close behind
him. They ran into the room in which they had slept. They looked on all
sides, but saw nothing. Again, far away, they heard another yell, and
they ran out again into the passage.

This narrow entry, as the investigating Ralph had already discovered,
continued for a dozen yards past the doorway which led to the chambers,
but there it ended in a rocky wall about five feet high. Above this was
an aperture extending to the roof of the passage, but Ralph, having a
wholesome fear of snakes, had not cared to climb over the wall to see
what was beyond.

When the captain and Ralph had reached the end of the passage, they heard
another cry, and there could be no doubt that it came through the
aperture by which they stood. Instantly Ralph scrambled to the top of the
wall, pushed himself head foremost through the opening, and came down on
the other side, partly on his hands and partly on his feet. Had the
captain been first, he would not have made such a rash leap, but now he
did not hesitate a second. He instantly followed the boy, taking care,
however, to let himself down on his feet.

The passage on the other side of the dividing wall seemed to be the same
as that they had just left, although perhaps a little lighter. After
pushing on for a short distance, they found that the passage made a turn
to the right, and then in a few moments the captain and Ralph emerged
into open space. What sort of space it was they could not comprehend.

"It seemed to me," said Ralph, afterwards, "as if I had fallen into the
sky at night. I was afraid to move, for fear I should tumble into
astronomical distances."

The captain stared about him, apparently as much confounded by the
situation as was the boy. But his mind was quickly brought to the
consideration of things which he could understand. Almost at his feet was
Maka, lying on his face, his arms and head over the edge of what might be
a bank or a bottomless precipice, and yelling piteously. Making a step
toward him, the captain saw that he had hold of another man, several feet
below him, and that he could not pull him up.

"Hold on tight, Maka," he cried, and then, taking hold of the African's
shoulders, he gave one mighty heave, lifted both men, and set them on
their feet beside him.

Ralph would have willingly sacrificed the rest of his school-days to be
able to perform such a feat as that. But the Africans were small, and the
captain was wildly excited.

Well might he be excited. He was wet! The strange man whom he had pulled
up had stumbled against him, and he was dripping with water. Ralph was by
the captain, tightly gripping his arm, and, without speaking, they both
stood gazing before them and around them.

At their feet, stretching away in one direction, farther than they could
see, and what at first sight they had taken to be air, was a body of
water--a lake! Above them were rocks, and, as far as they could see to
the right, the water seemed to be overhung by a cavernous roof. But in
front of them, on the other side of the lake, which here did not seem to
be more than a hundred feet wide, there was a great upright opening in
the side of the cave, through which they could see the distant mountains
and a portion of the sky.

"Water!" said Ralph, in a low tone, as if he had been speaking in church,
and then, letting go of the captain's arm, he began to examine the ledge,
but five or six feet wide, on which they stood. At his feet the water was
at least a yard below them, but a little distance on he saw that the
ledge shelved down to the surface of the lake, and in a moment he had
reached this spot, and, throwing himself down on his breast, he plunged
his face into the water and began drinking like a thirsty horse.
Presently he rose to his knees with a great sigh of satisfaction.

"Oh, captain," he cried, "it is cold and delicious. I believe that in one
hour more I should have died of thirst."

But the captain did not answer, nor did he move from the spot where he
stood. His thoughts whirled around in his mind like chaff in a
winnowing-machine. Water! A lake in the bosom of the rocks! Half an hour
ago he must have been standing over it as he scrambled up the hillside.
Visions that he had had of the morrow, when all their eyes should be
standing out of their faces, like the eyes of shipwrecked sailors he had
seen in boats, came back to him, and other visions of his mate and his
men toiling southward for perhaps a hundred miles without reaching a port
or a landing, and then the long, long delay before a vessel could be
procured. And here was water!

Ralph stood beside him for an instant. "Captain," he cried, "I am
going to get a pail, and take some to Edna and Mrs. Cliff." And then
he was gone.

Recalled thus to the present, the captain stepped back. He must do
something--he must speak to some one. He must take some advantage of this
wonderful, this overpowering discovery. But before he could bring his
mind down to its practical workings, Maka had clutched him by the coat.

"Cap'n," he said, "I must tell you. I must speak it. I must tell you now,
quick. Wait! Don't go!"




CHAPTER V

THE RACKBIRDS


The new African was sitting on the ground, as far back from the edge of
the ledge as he could get, shivering and shaking, for the water was cold.
He had apparently reached the culmination and termination of his fright.
After his tumble into the water, which had happened because he had been
unable to stop in his mad flight, he had not nerve enough left to do
anything more, no matter what should appear to scare him, and there was
really no reason why he should be afraid of this big white man, who did
not even look at him or give him a thought.

Maka's tale, which he told so rapidly and incoherently that he was
frequently obliged to repeat portions of it, was to the following effect:
He had thought a great deal about the scarcity of water, and it had
troubled him so that he could not sleep. What a dreadful thing it would
be for those poor ladies and the captain and the boy to die because they
had no water! His recollections of experiences in his native land made
him well understand that streams of water are to be looked for between
high ridges, and the idea forced itself upon him very strongly that on
the other side of the ridge to the south there might be a stream. He
knew the captain would not allow him to leave the camp if he asked
permission, and so he rose very early, even before it was light, and
going down to the shore, made his way along the beach--on the same route,
in fact, that the Englishman Davis had taken. He was a good deal
frightened sometimes, he said, by the waves, which dashed up as if they
would pull him into the water. When he reached the point of the rocky
ridge, he had no difficulty whatever in getting round it, as he could
easily keep away from the water by climbing over the rocks.

He found that the land on the other side began to recede from the ocean,
and that there was a small sandy beach below him. This widened until it
reached another and smaller point of rock, and beyond this Maka believed
he would find the stream for which he was searching. And while he was
considering whether he should climb over it or wade around it, suddenly a
man jumped down from the rock, almost on top of him. This man fell down
on his back, and was at first so frightened that he did not try to move.
Maka's wits entirely deserted him, he said, and he did not know anything,
except that most likely he was going to die.

But on looking at the man on the ground, he saw that he was an African
like himself, and in a moment he recognized him as one of his
fellow-slaves, with whom he had worked in Guiana, and also for a short
time on the Panama Canal. This made him think that perhaps he was not
going to die, and he went up to the other man and spoke to him. Then
the other man thought perhaps he was not going to die, and he sat up
and spoke.

When the other man told his tale, Maka agreed with him that it would be
far better to die of thirst than to go on any farther to look for water,
and, turning, he ran back, followed by the other, and they never stopped
to speak to each other until they had rounded the great bluff, and were
making their way along the beach toward the camp. Then his fellow-African
told Maka a great deal more, and Maka told everything to the captain.

The substance of the tale was this: A mile farther up the bay than Maka
had gone, there was a little stream that ran down the ravine. About a
quarter of a mile up this stream there was a spot where, it appeared from
the account, there must be a little level ground suitable for
habitations. Here were five or six huts, almost entirely surrounded by
rocks, and in these lived a dozen of the most dreadful men in the whole
world. This Maka assured the captain, his eyes wet with tears as he
spoke. It must truly be so, because the other African had told him things
which proved it.

A little farther up the stream, on the other side of the ravine, there
was a cave, a very small one, and so high up in the face of the rock
that it could only be reached by a ladder. In this lived five black men,
members of the company of slaves who had gone from Guiana to the
isthmus, and who had been brought down there about a year before by two
wicked men, who had promised them well-paid work in a lovely country.
They had, however, been made actual slaves in this barren and doleful
place, and had since worked for the cruel men who had beguiled them
into a captivity worse than the slavery to which they had been
originally destined.

Eight of them had come down from the isthmus, but, at various times
since, three of them had been killed by accident, or shot while trying to
run away. The hardships of these poor fellows were very great, and Maka's
voice shook as he spoke of them. They were kept in the cave all the time,
except when they were wanted for some sort of work, when a ladder was put
up by the side of the rock, and such as were required were called to come
down. Without a ladder no one could get in or out of the cave. One man
who had tried to slip down at night fell and broke his neck.