Howard Pyle's Book of pirates : fiction, fact & fancy concerning the buccaneers & marooners of the Spanish Main
walking along in the sand beside them, and now, in the dead,
breathless stillness, might be heard, dull and heavy, the distant
thumping, pounding roar of the Atlantic surf, beating on the beach at
the other side of the sand hills, half a mile away.
At last the two rounded the southern end of the white bluff, and when
Hiram, following, rounded it also, they were no longer to be seen.
Before him the sand hill rose, smooth and steep, cutting in a sharp
ridge against the sky. Up this steep hill trailed the footsteps of
those he followed, disappearing over the crest. Beyond the ridge lay a
round, bowl-like hollow, perhaps fifty feet across and eighteen or
twenty feet deep, scooped out by the eddying of the winds into an
almost perfect circle. Hiram, slowly, cautiously, stealthily,
following their trailing line of footmarks, mounted to the top of the
hillock and peered down into the bowl beneath. The two men were
sitting upon the sand, not far from the tall, skeleton-like shaft of
a dead pine tree that rose, stark and gray, from the sand in which it
may once have been buried, centuries ago.
XII
Levi had taken off his coat and waistcoat and was fanning himself with
his hat. He was sitting upon the bag he had brought from the mill and
which he had spread out upon the sand. His companion sat facing him.
The moon shone full upon him and Hiram knew him instantly--he was the
same burly, foreign-looking ruffian who had come with the little man
to the mill that night to see Levi. He also had his hat off and was
wiping his forehead and face with a red handkerchief. Beside him lay
the bundle of tools he had brought--a couple of shovels, a piece of
rope, and a long, sharp iron rod.
The two men were talking together, but Hiram could not understand what
they said, for they spoke in the same foreign language that they had
before used. But he could see his stepbrother point with his finger,
now to the dead tree and now to the steep, white face of the opposite
side of the bowl-like hollow.
At last, having apparently rested themselves, the conference, if
conference it was, came to an end, and Levi led the way, the other
following, to the dead pine tree. Here he stopped and began searching,
as though for some mark; then, having found that which he looked for,
he drew a tapeline and a large brass pocket compass from his pocket.
He gave one end of the tape line to his companion, holding the other
with his thumb pressed upon a particular part of the tree. Taking his
bearings by the compass, he gave now and then some orders to the
other, who moved a little to the left or the right as he bade. At last
he gave a word of command, and, thereupon, his companion drew a wooden
peg from his pocket and thrust it into the sand. From this peg as a
base they again measured, taking bearings by the compass, and again
drove a peg. For a third time they repeated their measurements and
then, at last, seemed to have reached the point which they aimed for.
Here Levi marked a cross with his heel upon the sand.
His companion brought him the pointed iron rod which lay beside the
shovels, and then stood watching as Levi thrust it deep into the sand,
again and again, as though sounding for some object below. It was some
while before he found that for which he was seeking, but at last the
rod struck with a jar upon some hard object below. After making sure
of success by one or two additional taps with the rod, Levi left it
remaining where it stood, brushing the sand from his hands. "Now fetch
the shovels, Pedro," said he, speaking for the first time in English.
The two men were busy for a long while, shoveling away the sand. The
object for which they were seeking lay buried some six feet deep, and
the work was heavy and laborious, the shifting sand sliding back,
again and again, into the hole. But at last the blade of one of the
shovels struck upon some hard substance and Levi stooped and brushed
away the sand with the palm of his hand.
Levi's companion climbed out of the hole which they had dug and tossed
the rope which he had brought with the shovels down to the other. Levi
made it fast to some object below and then himself mounted to the
level of the sand above. Pulling together, the two drew up from the
hole a heavy iron-bound box, nearly three feet long and a foot wide
and deep.
Levi's companion stooped and began untying the rope which had been
lashed to a ring in the lid.
What next happened happened suddenly, swiftly, terribly. Levi drew
back a single step, and shot one quick, keen look to right and to
left. He passed his hand rapidly behind his back, and the next moment
Hiram saw the moonlight gleam upon the long, sharp, keen blade of a
knife. Levi raised his arm. Then, just as the other arose from bending
over the chest, he struck, and struck again, two swift, powerful
blows. Hiram saw the blade drive, clean and sharp, into the back, and
heard the hilt strike with a dull thud against the ribs--once, twice.
The burly, black-bearded wretch gave a shrill, terrible cry and fell
staggering back. Then, in an instant, with another cry, he was up and
clutched Levi with a clutch of despair by the throat and by the arm.
Then followed a struggle, short, terrible, silent. Not a sound was
heard but the deep, panting breath and the scuffling of feet in the
sand, upon which there now poured and dabbled a dark-purple stream.
But it was a one-sided struggle and lasted only for a second or two.
Levi wrenched his arm loose from the wounded man's grasp, tearing his
shirt sleeve from the wrist to the shoulder as he did so. Again and
again the cruel knife was lifted, and again and again it fell, now no
longer bright, but stained with red.
Then, suddenly, all was over. Levi's companion dropped to the sand
without a sound, like a bundle of rags. For a moment he lay limp and
inert; then one shuddering spasm passed over him and he lay silent and
still, with his face half buried in the sand.
Levi, with the knife still gripped tight in his hand, stood leaning
over his victim, looking down upon his body. His shirt and hand, and
even his naked arm, were stained and blotched with blood. The moon lit
up his face and it was the face of a devil from hell.
At last he gave himself a shake, stooped and wiped his knife and hand
and arm upon the loose petticoat breeches of the dead man. He thrust
his knife back into its sheath, drew a key from his pocket and
unlocked the chest. In the moonlight Hiram could see that it was
filled mostly with paper and leather bags, full, apparently of money.
All through this awful struggle and its awful ending Hiram lay, dumb
and motionless, upon the crest of the sand hill, looking with a horrid
fascination upon the death struggle in the pit below. Now Hiram arose.
The sand slid whispering down from the crest as he did so, but Levi
was too intent in turning over the contents of the chest to notice the
slight sound.
Hiram's face was ghastly pale and drawn. For one moment he opened his
lips as though to speak, but no word came. So, white, silent, he stood
for a few seconds, rather like a statue than a living man, then,
suddenly, his eyes fell upon the bag, which Levi had brought with him,
no doubt, to carry back the treasure for which he and his companion
were in search, and which still lay spread out on the sand where it
had been flung. Then, as though a thought had suddenly flashed upon
him, his whole expression changed, his lips closed tightly together as
though fearing an involuntary sound might escape, and the haggard look
dissolved from his face.
Cautiously, slowly, he stepped over the edge of the sand hill and down
the slanting face. His coming was as silent as death, for his feet
made no noise as he sank ankle-deep in the yielding surface. So,
stealthily, step by step, he descended, reached the bag, lifted it
silently. Levi, still bending over the chest and searching through the
papers within, was not four feet away. Hiram raised the bag in his
hands. He must have made some slight rustle as he did so, for suddenly
Levi half turned his head. But he was one instant too late. In a flash
the bag was over his head--shoulders--arms--body.
Then came another struggle, as fierce, as silent, as desperate as that
other--and as short. Wiry, tough, and strong as he was, with a lean,
sinewy, nervous vigor, fighting desperately for his life as he was,
Levi had no chance against the ponderous strength of his stepbrother.
In any case, the struggle could not have lasted long; as it was, Levi
stumbled backward over the body of his dead mate and fell, with Hiram
upon him. Maybe he was stunned by the fall; maybe he felt the
hopelessness of resistance, for he lay quite still while Hiram,
kneeling upon him, drew the rope from the ring of the chest and,
without uttering a word, bound it tightly around both the bag and the
captive within, knotting it again and again and drawing it tight. Only
once was a word spoken. "If you'll lemme go," said a muffled voice
from the bag, "I'll give you five thousand pounds--it's in that there
box." Hiram answered never a word, but continued knotting the rope and
drawing it tight.
XIII
The _Scorpion_ sloop-of-war lay in Lewes harbor all that winter and
spring, probably upon the slim chance of a return of the pirates. It
was about eight o'clock in the morning and Lieutenant Maynard was
sitting in Squire Hall's office, fanning himself with his hat and
talking in a desultory fashion. Suddenly the dim and distant noise of
a great crowd was heard from without, coming nearer and nearer. The
Squire and his visitor hurried to the door. The crowd was coming down
the street shouting, jostling, struggling, some on the footway, some
in the roadway. Heads were at the doors and windows, looking down upon
them. Nearer they came, and nearer; then at last they could see that
the press surrounded and accompanied one man. It was Hiram White,
hatless, coatless, the sweat running down his face in streams, but
stolid and silent as ever. Over his shoulder he carried a bag, tied
round and round with a rope. It was not until the crowd and the man it
surrounded had come quite near that the Squire and the lieutenant saw
that a pair of legs in gray-yarn stockings hung from the bag. It was a
man he was carrying.
Hiram had lugged his burden five miles that morning without help and
with scarcely a rest on the way.
He came directly toward the Squire's office and, still surrounded and
hustled by the crowd, up the steep steps to the office within. He
flung his burden heavily upon the floor without a word and wiped his
streaming forehead.
The Squire stood with his knuckles on his desk, staring first at Hiram
and then at the strange burden he had brought. A sudden hush fell
upon all, though the voices of those without sounded as loud and
turbulent as ever. "What is it, Hiram?" said Squire Hall at last.
Then for the first time Hiram spoke, panting thickly. "It's a bloody
murderer," said he, pointing a quivering finger at the motionless
figure.
"Here, some of you!" called out the Squire. "Come! Untie this man! Who
is he?" A dozen willing fingers quickly unknotted the rope and the bag
was slipped from the head and body.
Hair and face and eyebrows and clothes were powdered with meal, but,
in spite of all and through all the innocent whiteness, dark spots and
blotches and smears of blood showed upon head and arm and shirt. Levi
raised himself upon his elbow and looked scowlingly around at the
amazed, wonderstruck faces surrounding him.