The Island Treasure Part 25

Hiram and I had not long left the sh.o.r.e, said Jim, when the mate, who had his dinner rather late that day, on account of having been up with the skipper drinking all through the previous night, came down the ship's side, looking very seedy and ill-tempered from the effects of his carouse, and with his face all blotchy and his nose red.

He had already been swearing at the steward for keeping him waiting for his grub, and this appeared to have 'got his hand in,' for he had no sooner come up to where Jan Steenbock was at work with the port watch digging in the trench, the second-mate setting the men a good example by wielding a pick as manfully as the best of them, than Mr Flinders began at Jan in his old abusive fashion, such as all on board the ship had been familiar with before the wreck and prior to his thrashing, which certainly had quieted him down for a time.

"Ye durned lop-handled c.o.o.n!" cried out the cantankerous bully, looking down on Jan from the top of the plank that crossed the trench, and served as a sort of gangway between the foot of the side ladder and the firm ground beyond the excavation. "Why don't ye put yer back into it?

Ye're a nice sort o' skallywag to hev charge of a gang--ye're only a-playin' at workin', ye an' the hull pack on yer; fur the durned dock ain't nary a sight deeper than it wer at four bells yester arternoon, I reckon!"

Jan Steenbock was in no wise disturbed by this exordium.

Dropping his pick, he looked up at the mate; while the rest of the men likewise stopped working, waiting to see what would happen, and grinning and nudging each other.

"Mine goot mans," said he in his deep voice, with unruffled composure, "vas you sbeak to mees?"

Mr Flinders jumped up and down on the plank gangway, making it sway to and fro with his excitement.

"Vas I sbeak to ye?" he screamed, mimicking in his shrill treble the Dane's p.r.o.nunciation. "Who else sh'ud I speak to, ye Dutch son of a gun? Stir yer stumps, d'ye haar, an' let us see ye airnin' yer keep, ye lazy hound!"

"Mistaire Vlinders!"

"Aye, thet's me; I'm glad ye reck'lect I've a handle to my name."

"Mistaire Vlinders," repeated Jan, paying no attention to the other's interruption. "If you vas sbeak to me, you vas best be zee-vil."

"What d'ye mean?" cried the mate. "Durn yer imperence; what d'ye mean?"

"I mean vat I zays," returned Jan; "and eef you vas not zee-vil, I vas make yous."

"Make me!" shouted out Mr Flinders, dancing with rage on the plank, so that it swung about more than ever. "Make me, hey? I'd like to see ye, my hearty!"

But, while the plank was yet oscillating beneath his feet, one of the men in the trench below, by a dexterous drive of his pick, loosened the earth on the side of the excavation; and, hardly had Mr Flinders got out his defiant words than he and the plank on which he was standing came tumbling down, the bully going plump into the pool of water that had acc.u.mulated at the open end of the trench forming a little lake over four feet deep.

Of course, the hands all shouted with laughter, their mirth growing all the merrier when the mate presently emerged from his impromptu bath, all dripping and plastered over with mud.

He was in a terrible rage, Jim Chowder said; and as Jan Steenbock came up to help him, he aimed a blow at him with a spade which he clutched hold of from one of the hands, almost splitting Jan's head open, for the thick felt hat he wore only saved his life.

"Thaar, ye durned Dutch dog!" he yelled out. "Take thet fur yer sa.s.s!"

Jan fell to the bottom of the trench; whereupon, the men, thinking Mr Flinders had murdered him, at once rushed upon the mate in a body, thrusting him backwards into the water again and rolling him over in the mud and refuse, until he was pretty well battered about and nearly drowned.

Indeed, he would, probably, have been settled altogether, but for Jan rising up, little the worse for the blow that he had received, saving that some blood was trickling down his face.

"Shtop, my mans, shtop!" he exclaimed. "Let hims get oop, he vas not hoort me, aftaire all; and I vas vorgif hims, vor he vas not know vat he vas do!"

But the hands were too much incensed to let the bully off so easily, for they hated him as much as they liked Jan and were indignant at the unprovoked a.s.sault Mr Flinders had made upon him. As luck would have it, while they were debating how they should pay him out properly, and whether to give him another ducking in the muddy water or no, a happy means presented itself to them for punishing him in a much more ignominious manner, and one which was as original as it was amusing.

The big tortoises that inhabited the island used to come backwards and forwards past the beach on their pa.s.sage up to the hills, utterly regardless of the ship and the men working, especially towards the evening, as now; and just as the fracas happened, one of these huge creatures waddled by the trench, making for its usual course inland.

"Hullo, mates!" sung out the leading wag of the crew, "let's give our friend a ride for to dry hisself; here's a c.o.c.k hoss handy!"

This was thought a capital lark; and, the suggestion being acted upon immediately, the tortoise was summarily arrested in its onward career and Mr Flinders lashed across its sh.e.l.ly back, like Mazeppa was strapped upon the desert steed--the hands all roaring with laughter, Jim said, while the mate struggled in vain with his captors and the giant tortoise hissed its objections at the liberty taken with it in thus converting it into a beast of burden without leave or license!

It must have been a comical sight according to Jim Chowder's account.

Even Jan Steenbock, he said, could not help grinning; for, although Mr Flinders screamed and yelled as if he were being murdered, Jan saw that the men were not really hurting him, and he thought there was no call for his interference, especially after the manner in which the mate had acted towards him previously--indeed, all along, arrant bully that he was.

Consequently, he let matters take their course, his smile breaking into the general laugh that arose presently when, one of the men giving the tortoise a dig with his boot as soon as the mate was securely mounted, the unwieldy reptile waddled off into the bush with Mr Flinders, bawling, spread-eagled on its back and brandishing his arms and legs about, trying to free himself from his lashings.

"Durn ye all for a pack o' cowards, ten ag'in one!" screamed out the mate as he was lost to sight in the cactus grove, the p.r.i.c.kles from which no doubt tore his legs, thus heightening the unpleasantness of his situation. "I'll pay ye out for this, ye scallywags, I will, by thunder, when I get loose."

"All right," shouted back the men between their bursts of laughter as he disappeared from view, howling and shrieking and swearing away to the end; the tortoise plodding on regardless of his struggles, which, indeed, accelerated its pace onwards to its retreat in the hills. "You can carry on, old flick, when you finds yourself free!"

And, then, they raised one of their old sailor choruses with much spirit--

"Oh, he'll never come back no more, boys, He'll never come back no more; For he's sailed away to Botany Bay, And 'll never come back no more!"

While they were in the middle of this--Jim Chowder singing the solo of the shanty, and the others joining in with full lung power in the refrain--who should appear from the opposite direction to that in which the mate had disappeared on his strange steed, but, Captain Snaggs!

The skipper looked very strange and excited.

"Hillo, my jokers!" he exclaimed as soon as he got near enough to hail the men, "whaar's Mister Flinders? I wants him at oncest."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

"SKELETON VALLEY."

"This wer a reg'ler sockdollager!" said Jim Chowder, when narrating the circ.u.mstances to us; for on this unexpected enquiry after the mate coming so suddenly after the men had treated him in so ignominious a fashion, they were "knocked all aback!"

So, for the moment, no one answered the skipper's question.

Of course, this did not tend to allay his excitement. "Can't nary a one o' ye speak?" he cried angrily. "Whaar's the fust-mate--ye ain't made away with the c.o.o.n, hev ye?"

"He's out fur a ride, cap," at last said the wag of the party, whereat there was another outburst of laughter. "Mr Flinders wer a bit out o'

sorts an' hez gone up theer fur a hairin'."

"Thaar!" echoed the skipper, looking to where the man pointed with his hand. "Whaar?"

"Up in the hills," replied the other grinning hugely at Captain Snaggs'

puzzled expression. "He's gone fur a ride a-tortoise-back."

"Ye're a durned fule!" shouted the skipper, thinking he was 'taking a rise' out of him. "Don't ye try on bamboozlin' me. What d'ye mean by his goin' a-ridin', an' sich nonsense?"

"He vas shbeak ze drooth, cap'en," put in Jan Steenbock, who was still wiping the blood from his face as he got up to answer him. "I vas zee Mistaire Vlinders zail avays oop dere on ze back of von beeg toordle joost now."

"By thunder, ye're all makin' game of me, I guess!" yelled the skipper, seeing that Jan was grinning like the rest, "I s'pose ye've been hevin'

a muss ag'en. Now, I ain't a-goin' to stand no more bunk.u.m. What hev ye done with Mr Flinders, I axes fur the last time?"

"I vas not do nuzzin," replied Jan quietly, continuing to wipe his face.