At seven o’clock the next morning, two of the black men had brought up the unloaded can of gasoline. Andy had been taken ashore3 to the Pelican4, two of the more intelligent spongers had been detailed5 to assist him, and the schooner was heading out of the cove, its owner on the after deck waving his Panama to the boy on shore.
A box of cloth, screws, wire, a hammer and saw, candles, tin pans, and three bamboo fishing poles had been sent ashore with the young aviator6. Before the schooner had rounded the point and laid a course to the west, the operator[203] of the aeroplane was busy. His shirt sleeves rolled up, barefooted and hatless, the boy did not seem to mind the semi-tropic sun. After a solitary7 luncheon8 he was at his task again. At three o’clock he paused—the Pelican a weird9 and picturesque10 sight, her tanks newly filled, her oil cups freshly primed. Whatever her new mission, she was undoubtedly11 ready for another flight.
Andy’s fishermen assistants viewed the altered machine with silent awe12. When they had helped to wheel it into an advantageous13 location for a new start and had been dismissed, they hurried away, and the boy was alone. From his actions, the hours were dragging. Four and five o’clock passed with no signs of a new flight. The impatient Andy made constant references to the sun and his watch, with now and then little alterations14 in the aeroplane’s new equipment.
Frequently the boy also consulted a slip of paper.
“North, northwest,” he would repeat, “and twenty-five miles. At a minute and a half a mile, that’s thirty-seven and one-half minutes.”
Thirty-eight minutes before Captain Bassett’s[204] calculation of sundown, at 6:35 P.M., the eager boy at last sprang into his seat, set his brake, turned on his power, and in thirty seconds the low-hanging palm leaves behind him, fluttering before his propellers15, the now picturesque Pelican was skimming over the wide reach of Palm Tree Cove.
At one o’clock that afternoon Captain Bassett’s schooner was tacking16 off Timbado Key. When it dropped anchor off the makeshift of a beach village that its navigator had visited six years before, a few blacks emerged from the hovels. But no one on the schooner came ashore, and in the boat there were no signs of activity. The white-costumed Englishman sat and smoked under the awning17. By mid-afternoon the beach was thick with a curious group.
When the sun was low in the west, a few minutes before seven o’clock, a small boat shot out from the idle, anchored schooner. As it grounded on the beach, the semi-savage18 blacks who had watched the strange boat all afternoon, moved forward. Captain Bassett, in spotless white, sprang ashore. He paused only to light a fresh cigar, and then, ignoring the motley straggling group, he walked quickly to the steps leading to the plateau.
Here, with only a glance over the sloping sides of the basin and the stagnant19 pool at its bottom—its heavy waters already iridescent20 in the dying sun—he strode rapidly toward the stockade21. As he had seen it before, the king’s home still stood—the signs of decay more evident, but the totem palm trunks still erect22.
No one blocked his passage, but he did not enter the gate. Still swaying on the palm trunks, he saw that which sent a chill through him. He also saw, almost above, but apparently23 guarding the gate, the big black who had accosted24 him on the beach years before. The man was heavier, there was a brutish kind of fear on his face, but he yet carried in his belt the one revolver the Englishman had seen on the island.
“Tell the great thief Cajou the white man is here.”
Captain Bassett uttered these words in a tone that made the big black start.
“Him no walk,” was the answer in a hesitating voice.
“Tell the great thief Cajou that the white man brings death.”
“Him sick,” faltered25 the swarthy guardian26.
Within the shadow of the filthy27 stockade[206] court, other men could now be seen. The white man could see the glare of eyes as if beasts were crouching28 in the fast-gathering night.
“Tell the great thief Cajou,” went on the white man—his tone unchanged, cold and imperative29, “that to-night comes the Bird of Death. He who was robbed of his pearl, to-night brings fetich; to-night, the white man brings death to the women and children of thieves; to-night, out of the south, he commands the Bird of Death.”
As he spoke30, the Englishman observed almost concealed31 behind those in the enclosure, the old African. He was bent32 now, and as the silent assembly fell back to give the grizzled savage space, the white man saw that all he had said had been heard and understood. Two women supported the ruler of Timbado. Shaking them aside, he felt his way to the gate on his cane33.
“White man come—white man go. No come—no go more.”
“The great thief Cajou hears,” interrupted the unmoving man in white. “To-night, the white man brings fetich; to-night, out of the sky, he brings death to those who steal and lie and to the women and children of those who lie—”
The tottering34 chief lunged forward on his stick as if to grasp the white man. But the latter did not move.
“Cajou no thief,” snarled35 the black. “Him no white man pearl.”
Throwing his head back, the Englishman placed his hands to his mouth and called loudly into the now shadowed night.
“Come, Bird of Death,” he cried. Then, with a sweep of his right arm toward the south, he shouted: “Behold!”
Sweeping37 majestically38 toward the palm totems out of the already starry39 night, came an object with the whirr of a flock of vultures. Like a great bird, the descending40 shape already spread its monstrous41 wings over the black pool. Its long tail could be seen moving against the starry sky, while the eyes and throat of its far-extended head seemed to belch42 fire and smoke.
Back upon each other crowded those about Cajou. Alone stood the old man, shaking and aghast. Then out of the mouth of the giant bird came a cry of rage and the hiss43 of a snake. Wails44 and cries of fear rent the air; groveling on their knees, the occupants of the stockade tried to hide their heads; even the great black threw himself behind the wall. Then the angry[208] blood-red eyes of the Bird of Death struck toward the group, and even the doughty45 Cajou reeled backward.
“Stop!” shouted the white man. “Stop, Bird of Death! Go!” he cried.
As if balked46 of its prey47, the great creature of the air seemed to pause. Then, with an almost human snarl36, it shot to the left, circled over the pool and began to mount the skies in apparent flight.
For a moment the sobs48 and cries of the prostrate49 were all that could be heard. The ruler of the tropic key still stood, but shaking in terror.
“White man go,” he mumbled50 at last. But his defiance51 was gone. “Cajou no got white man’s pearl.”
“You lie!” exclaimed the Englishman. Then he held out his hand. “Give!” he commanded. His tone seemed to wound the black man. “No?” he added fiercely, as Cajou only cringed.
“Cajou no pearl, no thief,” at last began the African.
“Come, Bird of Death,” cried the white man once more. “Eat the women and children of the great thief. Come!”
“Come, Bird of Death!”
As he spoke, he could see the blood-red eyes turned toward him again; then he saw the points of fire dip, and he knew the indistinguishable object was once more hurtling toward the stockade.
There were new cries of terror. Then the hiss and snarl high above sounded again. Bigger grew the glaring eyes of the Bird of Death, and then out of its gaping52 throat came a stream of fire. The roar of the returning object swept before it.
“Eat black man; eat black man!” came a voice out of the hollow sky.
Amid a hundred shrieks53, a terror-stricken form threw itself at the white man’s feet.
“Cajou lie; Cajou lie,” it wailed54. “White man make stop.”
“Come, Bird of Death!” roared the iron-nerved Englishman.
“Eat black woman, eat black baby!” fell again from the clouds.
One more look, and the prostrate Cajou caught at the buttons on his faded coat, tore the garment loose at the neck, and struck out his palsied hand.
“Stop!” commanded the man in white, as he shot up his arm to stay the avenging55 bird. He[212] could barely see the old man; but he felt the outstretched hand. Grasping the object in it, he found it still attached to a cord. With a snap he tore it loose. His fingers closed on what he knew was a small skin bag. Then with a thrill he felt within the bag a pear-shaped object. It required no look to tell him what it was.
“Begone!” he cried. “Cajou saves his people.”
As he spoke, he discharged his revolver over the heads of the prostrate subjects of the outwitted black man, and there was an answering shout from the fiery56 Bird of Death as it swept over the stockade. The Fiend of the Skies had been thwarted57 once more by the fetich of the white man and, with another hiss of rage, its yawning throat yet spitting flames and smoke, the Bird of Death turned and disappeared seaward.
When it had passed, and Cajou and his people looked again for the all-powerful white man who had saved them, he was gone. None followed the retreating ghostlike form of the fetich maker58, and as Captain Bassett felt his way down the bluff59 steps, he could see fading the red eyes of the air monster.
On the beach once more, his faithful men and boat ready for him, he paused, drew the little bag from his pocket and struck a match. There was but one glance, and he threw the match from him. Cajou had not deceived him this time. The great pink pearl had come back to its owner.
When the Pelican sailed away from Palm Tree Cove on that eventful evening, thirty-seven and one-half minutes before sunset, the spongers, left in open-mouthed wonder, soon began an important task. Dry driftwood and fallen palm trees were collected until it was wholly dark. Then fires were started on the beach in two places, to the right and left of the Pelican’s starting place. A few minutes after eight o’clock, out of a louder and louder whirr in the starlit skies, with a rush as of a rising wind, the aeroplane darted60 beachward.
In the shadows, the daring young aviator, stiff in muscle and worn with strain, landed in the shallow water. As if newly alarmed, the waiting spongers hung back. But the tired boy sprang into the water, grasped the sinking machine, and in a few moments a dozen willing hands had drawn61 it high on the white sand. With no attempt to dry his clothes, and with[214] only a glance at his watch in the glare of the beach fires, the exhausted62 boy threw himself on the sand alongside the aeroplane and was soon unconscious.
When he awoke, it was day, and Captain Bassett was standing63 over him.
“Come to the schooner,” said the Englishman kindly64, “get some breakfast and a bath and finish your sleep in bed.”
Dazed for a moment, Andy rubbed his eyes, and then sprang into a sitting posture65.
“Did you get it?” he cried eagerly.
The captain smiled, nodded his head, and then looked knowingly toward the spongers just departing for their day’s work.
“I understand,” exclaimed the boy jubilantly. “It was a peach of an idea. The old Pelican was all right, wasn’t she?”
Again Captain Bassett smiled and assisted the stiff boy to his feet.
“The idea was all right, but you did the business. She don’t look so awful now, does she?” and he pointed66 toward the still bedraggled aeroplane.
Both broke into laughter. Drooping67 on the beach, lay the Pelican’s improvised68 neck and bird head made of lashed69 bamboo poles. The[215] two suspended lanterns covered with red calico curtains from the schooner were far from deceptive70 in the sunlight. The band of red cloth on a crude frame beneath these, behind which had hung balls of coal oil soaked rags (the throat of the marvelous bird) was sagging71 in the sand.
“Here’s where I touched off the balls,” explained Andy, still chuckling72 with amusement. “My oil string fuse ran through these wire loops.”
“When the wind blew the flames down,” said the captain, “it was like a dragon spitting fire. And that yell of yours! It wasn’t much like a bird—it was most grewsome. Andy,” he added suddenly and seriously, “of course, it isn’t necessary to say you’ve done a big thing for me.”
“You don’t need to begin that,” exclaimed the boy at once. “You’ve helped me and are goin’ to help me some more. That’s enough. But I’d like to see the pearl.”
Cautiously the Englishman took the bag from his pocket. As the boy’s eyes fell on the lustrous73, pale rose-colored gem74, he caught his companion’s arm. In the shape of a flattened75 pear and almost an inch and a half long, the tropic jewel seemed to radiate a glow of life.
“What’s it worth?” whispered the dazed boy.
“Twenty years of isolation76 in this desolate77 world,” said the suddenly sobered Englishman. “In money, it has no price. It is not for sale.”
There was no more rest for Andy that morning. When the Pelican had been taken apart and loaded on the schooner and Captain Bassett’s crews of spongers had been embarked78 in their small boats, it was noon. While luncheon was served under the awning, the schooner passed out of the cove on her way to Andros Island.
Physically79 exhausted and his nerves unstrung, Captain Bassett put Andy in his bunk80 at once. When he awoke it was dark, the schooner was cutting through a moonlit sea and the boy knew it was late in the night. When he awoke again it was day and the schooner was tacking among almost countless81 islands.
A little later Andros Island was in sight. Then a heavily-laden schooner, freighted with baled sisal hemp82 and crates83 of oranges and pineapples, was hailed by the incoming schooner.
“It’s one of my boats,” explained Captain Bassett, “on her way to Nassau. We’ll send your cablegram on it.”
“Why not put me aboard?” asked Andy, again lively and full of vim84.
“It can’t well take the aeroplane,” explained the Englishman. “Besides, I want to take you to Nassau myself. I’ll see you properly started for your own country.”
That was why the daring young adventurer was some days in the rear of his cablegram. When, in a few days, he did reach the interesting historic old town of Nassau, he was forced to accept several more favors from his kindly host. He saw no way of escaping a loan sufficient to cover his passage by steamer and rail back to Valkaria by way of Lake Worth, and to pay the freight bill on his aeroplane.
“But I’ll return it,” insisted Andy.
“As you like,” responded his friend, “if you’ll bring it yourself, and your father, and mother, and spend a winter with me on Andros.”
“And Ba?” added the boy.
“I’ll take care of him as long as he lives, if he’ll come,” was the Englishman’s answer.
When the big Florida-bound steamer had made her way out past Hog85 Island and was in the channel roll, the boy went below to inspect his cabin. Pinned to the pillow on his bed was[218] an envelope addressed: “Mr. Andrew Leighton—to be opened at sea.”
Tearing it open, a narrow strip of blue paper dropped in Andy’s hands. It read: “Royal Bank of Nassau. Pay to Andrew Leighton or order ￡1,000. Monckton Bassett.”
The End
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1
schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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pelican
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| n.鹈鹕，伽蓝鸟 | |
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detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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aviator
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| n.飞行家，飞行员 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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advantageous
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| adj.有利的；有帮助的 | |
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alterations
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| n.改动( alteration的名词复数 )；更改；变化；改变 | |
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propellers
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| n.螺旋桨，推进器( propeller的名词复数 ) | |
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tacking
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| （帆船）抢风行驶，定位焊[铆]紧钉 | |
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awning
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| n.遮阳篷；雨篷 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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stagnant
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| adj.不流动的，停滞的，不景气的 | |
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iridescent
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| adj.彩虹色的，闪色的 | |
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stockade
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| n.栅栏，围栏；v.用栅栏防护 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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tottering
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| adj.蹒跚的，动摇的v.走得或动得不稳( totter的现在分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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belch
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| v.打嗝，喷出 | |
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43
hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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44
wails
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| 痛哭，哭声( wail的名词复数 ) | |
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doughty
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| adj.勇猛的，坚强的 | |
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46
balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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51
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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52
gaping
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| adj.口的；张口的；敞口的；多洞穴的v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的现在分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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53
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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54
wailed
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
avenging
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| adj.报仇的，复仇的v.为…复仇，报…之仇( avenge的现在分词 )；为…报复 | |
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56
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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57
thwarted
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| 阻挠( thwart的过去式和过去分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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58
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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59
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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61
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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62
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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63
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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68
improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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69
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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70
deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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71
sagging
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| 下垂[沉，陷]，松垂，垂度 | |
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72
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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73
lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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74
gem
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| n.宝石，珠宝；受爱戴的人 [同]jewel | |
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75
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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77
desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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79
physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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80
bunk
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| n.(车、船等倚壁而设的)铺位；废话 | |
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81
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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82
hemp
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| n.大麻；纤维 | |
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83
crates
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| n. 板条箱, 篓子, 旧汽车 vt. 装进纸条箱 | |
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84
vim
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| n.精力，活力 | |
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85
hog
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| n.猪；馋嘴贪吃的人；vt.把…占为己有，独占 | |
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