CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE COAST OF PATAGONIA
For about ten days after the brig _Miranda_ left Valparaiso she had goodwinds and fair weather, and her progress was satisfactory to all onboard, but at the end of that time she entered upon a season of headwinds and bad weather. The vessel behaved very well in the stormy daysthat followed, but she made very little headway. Her course was now laidtoward the Gulf of Penas, after reaching which she would sail along theprotected waterways between the chain of islands which lie along thecoast and the mainland, and which lead into the Straits of Magellan.
When the weather at last changed and the sea became smoother, it wasfound that the working and straining of the masts during the violentweather had opened some of the seams of the brig, and that she was takingin water. She was a good vessel, but she was an old one, and she had hada rough time of it. The captain thanked his stars that she had not begunto leak before the storm.
The short-handed crew went to work at the pumps, but, after two days'hard labor, it was found that the water in the hold steadily gained uponthe pumps, and there was no doubt that the _Miranda_ was badly strained.According to a report from Burke, the water came in forward, aft, andmidships. Matters were now getting very serious, and the captain and histwo mates consulted together, while the three negroes pumped. It wasplain to all of them that if the water kept on gaining, it would not belong before the brig must go to the bottom. To keep her afloat until theyreached a port would be impossible. To reach the shore in the boats wasquite possible, for they were not a hundred miles from land. But to carrytheir treasure to land in two small boats was a thing which need not evenbe considered.
All agreed that there was but one thing to be done. The brig must beheaded to land, and if she could be kept afloat until she neared one ofthe great islands which lie along the Patagonian coast, she might be runinto some bay or protected cove, where she could be beached, or where, ifshe should sink, it might be in water so shallow that all hope of gettingat her treasure would not have to be abandoned. In any case, the soonerthey got to the shore, the better for them. So the brig's bow was turnedeastward, and the pumps were worked harder than ever. There was a goodwind, and, considering that the _Miranda_ was steadily settling deeperand deeper, she made very fair progress, and in less than two days aftershe had changed her course, land was sighted. Not long after, CaptainHorn began to hope that if the wind held, and the brig could keep abovewater for an hour or so, he could double a small headland which nowshowed itself plainly a couple of miles away, and might be able to beachhis vessel.
What a dreary, depressing hope it was that now possessed the souls ofCaptain Horn, of Burke and Shirley, and of even the three negroes! Afterall the hardships, the labor, and the anxieties, after all the joy ofsuccess and escape from danger, after all happy chances which had come invarious ways and from various directions, after the sweet delights ofrest, after the super-exultation of anticipation which no one on boardhad been able to banish from his mind, there was nothing left to them nowbut the eager desire that their vessel might keep afloat until she couldfind some friendly sands on which she might be run, or some shallow waterin which she might sink and rest there on the wild Patagonian coast,leaving them far from human beings of any kind, far from help, far,perhaps, from rescue and even safety.
To this one object each man gave his entire energy, his mind, and hisbody. Steadily went the pumps, steadily the captain kept his eyes fixedupon the approaching headland, and upon the waters beyond, and steadily,little by little, the _Miranda_ sunk lower and lower into the sea.
At last the headland was reached, and on its ocean side the surf beathigh. Keeping well away to avoid shoals or a bar, the _Miranda_ passedthe southern point of the headland, and slowly sailed into a little bay.To the left lay the rocky ridge which formed the headland, and less thanhalf a mile away could be seen the shining sands of the smooth beach.Toward this beach the _Miranda_ was now headed, every sail upon her set,and every nerve upon her strung to its tightest. They went in upon aflood-tide. If he had believed that the brig would float so long,Captain Horn would have waited an hour until the tide was high, so thathe might run his vessel farther up upon the beach, but he could not wait,and with a strong west wind he steered straight for the sands.
There was a hissing under the bows, and a shock which ran through thevessel from stem to stern, and then grinding and grinding and grindinguntil all motion ceased, and a gentle surf began to curl itself againstthe stern of the brig.
Every halliard was let go, and down came every sail by the run, and thenthe brig _Miranda_ ended this voyage, and all others, upon the shore of adesolate Patagonian island.
Between the vessel and dry land there was about a hundred feet of water,but this would be much less when the tide went out. Beyond the beach wasa stretch of sandy hillocks, or dunes, and back of these was a mass ofscrubby thicket, with here and there a low tree, and still farther backwas seen the beginning of what might be a forest. It was a differentcoast from the desolate shores of Peru.
Burke came aft to the captain.
"Here we are, sir," said he, "and what's to happen next?"
"Happen!" exclaimed the captain. "We must not wait for things to happen!What we've got to do is to step around lively, and get the gold out ofthis brig before the wind changes and drives her out into deep water."
Burke put his hands into his pockets. "Is there any good of it, captain?"said he. "Will we be any better off with the bags on that shore than wewould be if they were sunk in this bay?"
"Good of it!" exclaimed the captain. "Don't talk that way, Burke. If wecan get it on shore, there is a chance for us. But if it goes to thebottom, out in deep water, there is none. There is no time to talk now.What we must do is to go to work."
"Yes," said Burke, "whatever happens, it is always work. But I'm in forit, as long as I hold together. But we've got to look out that some ofthose black fellows don't drop over the bow, and give us the slip."
"They'll starve if they do," said the captain, "for not a biscuit, or adrop of water, goes ashore until the gold is out of the hold."
Burke shook his head. "We'll do what we can, captain," said he, "but thathold's a regular fishpond, and we'll have to dive for the bags."
"All right," said the captain, "dive let it be."
The work of removing the gold began immediately. Tackle was rigged. Thenegroes went below to get out the bags, which were hauled up to the deckin a tub. When a moderate boat-load had been taken out, a boat waslowered and manned, and the bags passed down to it.
In the first boat the captain went ashore. He considered it wise to landthe treasure as fast as it could be taken out of the hold, for no onecould know at what time, whether on account of wind from shore or wavesfrom the sea, the vessel might slip out into deep water. This was aslower method than if everybody had worked at getting the gold on deck,and then everybody had worked at getting it ashore, but it was a saferplan than the other, for if an accident should occur, if the brig shouldbe driven off the sand, they would have whatever they had alreadylanded. As this thought passed through the mind of the captain, he couldnot help a dismal smile.
"Have!" said he to himself. "It may be that we shall have it as that poorfellow had his bag of gold, when he lay down on his back to die there inthe wild desert."
But no one would have imagined that such an idea had come into thecaptain's mind. He worked as earnestly, and as steadily, as if he hadbeen landing an ordinary cargo at an ordinary dock.
The captain and the men in the boat carried the bags high up on thebeach, out of any danger from tide or surf, and laid them in a line alongthe sand. The captain ordered this because it would be easier to handlethem afterwards--if it should ever be necessary to handle them--than ifthey had been thrown into piles. If they should conclude to bury them, itwould be easier and quicker to dig a trench along the line, and tumblethem in, than to make the deep holes that would otherwise be necessary.
Until dark that day, and even a
fter dark, they worked, stopping only fornecessary eating and drinking. The line of bags upon the shore had growninto a double one, and it became necessary for the men, sometimes thewhite and sometimes the black, to stoop deeper and deeper into the waterof the hold to reach the bags. But they worked on bravely. In the earlydawn of the next morning they went to work again. Not a negro had giventhe ship the slip, nor were there any signs that one of them had thoughtof such a thing.
Backward and forward through the low surf went the boat, and longer andwider and higher grew the mass of bags upon the beach.
It was the third day after they had reached shore that the work wasfinished. Every dripping bag had been taken out of the hold, and thecaptain had counted them all as they had been put ashore, and verifiedthe number by the record in his pocket-book.
When the lower tiers of bags had been reached, they had tried pumping outthe water, but this was of little use. The brig had keeled over on herstarboard side, and early in the morning of the third day, when the tidewas running out, a hole had been cut in that side of the vessel, out ofwhich a great portion of the water she contained had run. It would allcome in again, and more of it, when the tide rose, but they were surethey could get through their work before that, and they were right. Thebags now lay upon the beach in the shape of a long mound, not more thanthree feet high, and about four rows wide at the bottom and two at thetop. The captain had superintended the arrangement of the bags, and hadso shaped the mass that it somewhat resembled in form the dunes of sandwhich lay behind it. No matter what might be their next step, it wouldprobably be advisable to conceal the bags, and the captain had thoughtthat the best way to do this would be to throw sand over the long mound,in which work the prevailing western winds would be likely to assist, andthus make it look like a natural sand-hill. Burke and Shirley were infavor of burial, but the consideration of this matter was deferred, forthere was more work to be done, which must be attended to immediately.
Now provisions, water, and everything else that might be of value wastaken out of the brig and carried to shore. Two tents were constructedout of sails and spars, and the little party established themselvesupon the beach. What would be their next work they knew not, but theymust first rest from their long season of heavy labor. The last dayshad been harder even than the days of storm and the days of pumping.They had eaten hurriedly and slept but little. Regular watches andirregular watches had been kept--watches against storm, which mightsweep the brig with all on board out to sea, watches against desertion,watches against they knew not what. As chief watcher, the captain hadscarcely slept at all.
It had been dreary work, unrelieved by hope, uncheered by prospect ofsuccess; for not one of them, from the captain down, had any definiteidea as to what was to be done after they had rested enough to act.
But they rested, and they went so far as to fill their pipes and stretchthemselves upon the sand. When night came on, chilly and dark, theygathered driftwood and dead branches from the thicket and built acamp-fire. They sat around it, and smoked their pipes, but they did nottell stories, nor did they talk very much. They were glad to rest, theywere glad to keep warm, but that was all. The only really cheerful thingupon the beach was the fire, which leaped high and blazed merrily as thedried wood was heaped upon it.