They heard again the low groaning2 of the departing storm, saw the wicked glare of the sheet lightning, the darkness, and the deed.
At times either lad would start up and murmur3 in his sleep; but they were young and healthy, and it was not till the sun rose high overhead that they awoke.
The morning was cool, bright, and lovely.
Tom suggested a swim before breakfast.
They stripped and dived out of the boat, and paddled round, and then they went ashore4 and boiled their billy in the scrub, and had breakfast.
Dave had commandeered two or three bottles of home-made jam from the farm cupboard, and they had enough bread to do for the meal.
After breakfast, Tom called a council.
“Look ’ere,” he began, “I reckon we better go an’[63] explore this island for a start. If she turns out all right we’ll stay on, and make it our headquarters till we see what happens.”
Tom, on a good sleep and a well-filled stomach, was already forgetting the tragic5 event of the night before. Not so Dave, who was younger, and probably less hardened.
“But,” he argued, “what about the people that’ll be goin’ up an’ down the river lookin’ for the cove7 that did the murder?”
“Nobody knows he did a murder except you an’ me,” responded Tom, “an’ we ain’t goin’ to tell till the trial. Then we’ll come up in court an’ be put in the box, an’ swore.”
“What box?” asked Dave. “Do they put you in a box?”
“Of course; the witness-box, you coot.”
“I don’t want to go in no box,” replied Dave. “What’s it like?”
“Something like a hen-coop,” exclaimed Tom, cheerfully inventing. “You got to put your tongue out through a hole and kiss the book.”
“What book?” asked Dave, innocently.
“Why, the Bible, you fool.”
“What do they make you kiss it for?”
“Why, to take an oath, you ass8.”
“What is an oath?” asked Dave.
“Callin’ God to strike you dead if you tell a lie,” exclaimed Tom reverently9. “You don’t want to tell no lies when you’re on your oath. There was a cove in Bourke who was struck dead in the witness-box.”
[64]
“Where’s Bourke?” queried10 Dave, who happened to be in a more than usually inquiring mood that morning.
“Bourke,” replied Tom, scratching his head; “Bourke! Oh, Bourke’s away up in Northern Queensland somewhere. It’s so ’ot all you’ve got to do is to put your eggs in a pan, and lay the pan out in the sun to fry ’em.”
Both boys were silent for a while thinking. Then Dave spoke11.
“Don’t you think we better give up piratin’?” he asked.
“What for?” queried Tom.
“Well it don’t look lucky!”
“Of course, it ain’t lucky. It never is lucky; not at first; but after you get properly goin’ it’s all right. When we get a proper pirate ship an’ a crew——”
“Crew!” exclaimed Dave, “where we goin’ to get ’em?”.
“You leave that to me. Dave Gibson; I’m runnin’ this show; you just got to do what you’re told, and don’t you talk no more about goin’ an’ giving’ evidence in this murder case. When the time’s ripe I’ll be there, and you kin6 come along an’ back me up.”
“I’ll back you up,” replied Dave, promptly12. “I’ll say anything you say; I’ll swear it, too.”
“Y’see, it’s this way,” Tom explained confidentially13, “we might get into a bit o’ trouble ourselves about the boat an’ one thing an’ another, an’ if we was to come forward jist at the right time an’ tell the true story about the murder, we’d be let off, an’ maybe get a[65] reward, too, or get a billet in the Government, or somethin’.”
“What’ll they do to the cove?” asked Dave.
“Hang ’im!” replied Tom, emphatically. “By gosh, if I thought they wouldn’t, you wouldn’t catch me goin’ an puttin’ ’im away!”
“Why?”
“Why, ain’t you got no sense at all? Suppose he got off. D’you think it ’ud be safe for you an’ me to stay round anywhere?”
“No,” said Dave, candidly14, “I’ll be hanged if I do!”
“Look ’ere,” said Tom, “we better not talk about this any more till we got to.”
“How’s that?” asked the junior pirate. “Why bettern’t we?”
“Because,” replied Tom, looking into the scrub, “trees ’as got ears. We’ll have to take a oath not to do it.”
“We ain’t got no Bible,” ventured Dave.
“Pirates don’t always take a oath on the Bible,” explained Tom. “They take some oaths, ’specially15 oaths like this, on a knife.”
Dave turned a trifle pale.
“It sounds horrid,” he said.
“So it is,” observed Tom, “but it’s got to be done. ’Ere, you take the knife an’ ’old the pint16 towards me an’ swear.”
Dave did as he was told, repeating an elaborate formula, which Tom made up specially for the occasion.
Then Tom held the point of the knife to Dave, pressed it against where he judged his mate’s heart to be, and swore in the same way.
[66]
“Now,” he resumed, when the vow17 of secrecy18 had been thus solemnly taken, “that’s done, an’ it can’t be undone19, an’ we better go now an’ have a look round the island.”
“We better look out an’ get some tucker for dinner, too,” ventured Dave. “There’s nothing left except about three inches of crust an’ an inch an’ a half o’ jam.”
“Well, we’ll whack20 that now, an’ start fair,” suggested Tom. “I’m as ’ungry as ole Nick.”
“So am I,” agreed Dave. “I’m ’ungry all the time.”
It was true. The free, open-air, healthy life, the exercise and the freshness acted like a tonic21. They ate like cormorants22, and felt like trained pugilists.
Care cannot dwell long at the door of youth and health, and the wild and gloomy impressions of the previous night faded rapidly from their minds, especially as each was under a vow to his fellow not to mention the subject.
They took their tomahawk and bows and arrows and set out.
The island was nearly a quarter of a mile wide, and perhaps something more than half a mile long. Neither Dave nor Tom had ever been ashore there before, so they proceeded cautiously, arranging as they went along that in case they were surprised by any casual resident or visitor they should separate and make back to camp by different routes.
This scheme, Tom Pagdin announced, would be sure to put possible pursuers off the track.
“If anybody’s lookin’ for us,” he answered, “they’ll[67] reckon on findin’ us both together, an’ if they come acrost only one set o’ tracks they’ll reckon it’s somebody else.”
Dave did not question the logic23 of this argument. He had confidence in his senior.
They might have gone about five hundred yards when both boys stopped.
Before them, plainly visible through the scrub, was a clearing, in the centre of which stood a deserted24 hut.
To make sure that there was nobody hiding there, Tom made a detour25 and crawled up through the long “bladey” grass till he got quite close.
After a careful survey he stood up and beckoned26 Dave to come on.
“Some cove’s been doin’ a bit of cultivating an’ give it up,” he explained.
“It’s an all-right slab27 house,” cried Dave, exploring round. “Got a chimney in the kitchen an’ a old Colonial oven, set on bricks. It’s an all-right oven only the bottom’s burned out of it.”
“Yes,” said Tom, “an’ there’s two good rooms; they’ve left a table an’ a couple of stools. I say, we’ll take possession of this place.”
“Hooray!” cried Dave, capering28 round the earthen floor. “I’m on.”
“I reckon it’s all right,” said Tom, enthusiastically. “We’ll call it the Pirates’ Camp. I reckon we could stay ’ere twelve months an’ nobody would find us.”
“There ought to be a well round somewhere,” remarked Dave, “that we can get fresh water out of.”
“Let’s go an’ see,” shouted Tom. “This is all-right.[68] I reckon if we ’ad a gun we could use the cracks in the slabs29 for loop holes and stand a siege.”
“What’s a siege?” asked Dave, whose education had been neglected.
“It’s this way,” explained Tom, sitting on the kitchen table (which consisted of the top of a packing case nailed at the corners to four stakes driven into the ground), “a siege is like this. When one side takes up a position—”
Just here the stakes,—which had rotted in the ground, gave out, and Tom and the top of the table came down together.
Dave laughed. Not just ordinary laughter, either. He sat down on the floor on his hams holding his sides and laughing, and then he laid on his back and kicked his heels over his head and laughed, until Tom, discovering that he had broken no bones, got up and kicked him.
And even then, every time he thought about Tom clawing the air, and the comical look of surprise on face, he laughed again.
They went round the site of the deserted homestead exploring. There was a well about twenty yards from the back of the kitchen, and they got a tin and attached it to a piece of rusty30 fence wire and dipped up some of the water, and it looked clear and tasted good.
“There’s plenty of wood an’ water,” said Dave, “an’ them’s the main things.”
“Yes,” said Tom, “an’ I spot a lemon tree with a lot of lemons on it.”
[69]
Dave spotted31 it at the same time, and they had a race for it.
There were plenty of lemons and they filled their pockets and chewed.
Anything in the shape of fruit is edible32 to the Australian bush boy. Tom and Dave thought the lemons sweet until they discovered an orange tree soon afterwards.
They sat under the orange, and filled themselves.
The original resident had evidently gone in for planting an orchard33. There were guavas and ripe mangoes, which had run wild, some banana trees, and a lot of pineapple plants in bearing.
They found a charm about the exploration which kept them pleasured all the afternoon.
Their delight was complete when they discovered that they could bring the boat right up a little creek34 nearly abreast35 of the hut, and within less than a hundred yards of it.
Tom declared that the place had been just made for a pirates’ camp. He said he had no doubt that it was really occupied by pirates in days gone by. It was pirates who had planted the orchard and dug the well, and when he came to think of it, it stood to reason that they had left those cracks in the slabs purposely, so they could stick their muskets36 out through them and shoot when they were attacked. He even found traces of gunpowder37 on the walls and outside, where the whitewash38 had fallen off, he discovered the marks of bullets.
“Them fellars had a all right time,” said Tom; “they must ’a’ had lashin’s o’ fights.”
[70]
“I say,” Dave asked, “was there ever any wimmen pirates?”
“No,” replied Tom, scornfully; “it wuz only men.”
“Well,” went on Dave, “there must ’a’ bin39 some women pirates here, because here’s a piece of a woman’s dress an’ the busk of a woman’s stays!”
“Where?” asked Tom, incredulously.
“Here,” replied Dave, rooting out the articles which had no doubt appertained to the late resident’s wife or one of his grown-up daughters.
Tom examined them with the air of a detective.
“They’re women’s things,” he admitted; “but how did they get here?”
He thought a while.
“I know,” he resumed: “it was one of the beautiful captives they took out of an Indiaman. She fell in love with the captain of the pirates an’ followed ’im through thick an’ thin. All the most beautiful captives did. Then, when he was hard put, she saved the ship. Then the ship got wrecked40, an’ ’e swum ashore with ’is arm round ’er neck. Half of the crew wuz drowned an’ the other half wuz saved, and they got in ’ere and built this place an’ fortified41 it while they wuz buildin’ a new ship outer the timber that wuz washed ashore. That’s how them things come to be ’ere.”
“But,” said Dave, “’ere’s a ole washin’ tub an’ a piece of washin’ board.”
“Well, couldn’t they ’ave come ashore out of the pirate’s ship?” asked Tom.
[71]
“I didn’t know they had washtubs an’ things like that on pirate ships,” pleaded Dave.
“Of course you don’t know—you don’t know nothin’ about these things. You ain’t read nothin’ about ’em, but I ’ave; I’ve read stacks of books about pirates. The ole man ’e uster make me read out of ’em, too, at nights.”
“I say!” exclaimed Dave, “we better get our swags up and bring the boat round.”
“Yes, we better,” agreed Tom, “we got to hook round an’ pirate some tucker, too, as soon as it grows dark.”
They went back to the landing-place and brought the boat up the creek.
Then Tom said they’d have to bake a damper with some of the flour he had borrowed from the old man.
So he stripped a short sheet of bark off a tree with his tomahawk, measured out about a pound of flour, wetted it, and began to roll the damper. The paste was too thin first, and seemed to be trying to get away from him. Dave received orders to stand by and pour on more flour gently. And Dave let the bag slip and lost half the flour in the grass, and Tom said, wrathfully, that he was the biggest fool of a pirate on the river, and it seemed that he was never going to get any sense either.
At length the pirate captain evolved a sticky, stringy sheet of paste, which looked more like variegated42 marble than anything else, and he raked out the ashes and dropped it in and covered it over.
For about an hour the pirates kept raking the ashes off and covering the damper up again, and then Tom[72] pronounced the dish cooked. It was afternoon, and they proceeded to have some four o’clock damper and tea.
“It’s all right damper,” said the chief architect; “only a bit burned on the bottom. If you scrape the charcoal43 off the bottom, though, it’ll be good.”
Dave absent-mindedly chipped the chunks44 of charcoal and cinders45 off the lower side, and then he cut into the daily loaf and it cut queer. There were streaks46 of dry flour, and streaks of wet dough47, and what wasn’t powder or paste was old Silurian rock.
“It don’t look none too good,” ventured Dave, doubtfully.
“It’s all right,” insisted the elder boy, “only a bit underdone in spot.”
Dave took a slice and toyed with it.
“It don’t taste like it was properly mixed up,” he said.
“Oh, it’s all right,” replied Tom. “It’s real good, I reckon, for the first try. Shake the dry flour out, an’ cut the sticky part off and scrape the black off the crust.”
“But it’s all dry flour an’ sticky part an’ crust,” argued Dave.
“Oh, dammit, then, throw it away!” exclaimed Tom, who had gotten a piece in his hollow tooth. “You’re too soft for this piratin’ game, an’ the way you whine48 an’ go on puts me off me feed, too.”
“Well, I’m dashed hungry,” persisted Dave.
“So’m I,” replied Tom. “We’ll take the boat an’ go acrost to the mainland.”
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1
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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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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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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14
candidly
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| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
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15
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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16
pint
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| n.品脱 | |
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17
vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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19
undone
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| a.未做完的，未完成的 | |
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whack
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| v.敲击，重打，瓜分；n.重击，重打，尝试，一份 | |
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tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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cormorants
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| 鸬鹚，贪婪的人( cormorant的名词复数 ) | |
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logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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detour
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| n.绕行的路，迂回路；v.迂回，绕道 | |
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beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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capering
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| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的现在分词 )；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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edible
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| n.食品，食物；adj.可食用的 | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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muskets
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| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
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gunpowder
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| n.火药 | |
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whitewash
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| v.粉刷，掩饰；n.石灰水，粉刷，掩饰 | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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variegated
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| adj.斑驳的，杂色的 | |
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charcoal
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| n.炭，木炭，生物炭 | |
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chunks
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| 厚厚的一块( chunk的名词复数 )； （某物）相当大的数量或部分 | |
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cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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47
dough
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| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
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48
whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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