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Gradually she, too, felt herself yielding to the fascination and mystery of the place and the solitude that encompa.s.sed her. Beyond the pleasant shadows where she sat, she saw the great world of mountain and valley through a dreamy haze that seemed to rise from the depths below and occasionally hang before the cavern like a veil. Long waves of spicy heat rolling up the mountain from the valley brought her the smell of pine trees and bay and made the landscape swim before her eyes. She could hear the far off cry of teamsters on some unseen road; she could see the far off cloud of dust following the mountain stage coach, whose rattling wheels she could not hear. She felt very lonely, but was not quite afraid; she felt very melancholy, but was not entirely sad. And she could have easily awakened her sleeping companions if she wished.
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No! She was a lone widow with nine children, six of whom were already in the lone churchyard on the hill, and the others lying ill with measles and scarlet fever beside her. She had just walked many weary miles that day, and had often begged from door to door for a slice of bread for the starving little ones. It was of no use now--they would die! They would never see their dear mother again.
This was a favourite imaginative situation of Polly's, but only indulged when her companions were asleep, partly because she could not trust confederates with her more serious fancies, and partly because they were at such times pa.s.sive in her hands. She glanced timidly round; satisfied that no one could observe her, she softly visited the bedside of each of her companions, and administered from a purely fict.i.tious bottle spoonfuls of invisible medicine. Physical correction in the form of slight taps, which they always required, and in which Polly was strong, was only withheld now from a sense of their weak condition. But in vain, they succ.u.mbed to the fell disease--(they always died at this juncture)--and Polly was left alone. She thought of the little church where she had once seen a funeral, and remembered the nice smell of the flowers; she dwelt with melancholy satisfaction on the nine little tombstones in the graveyard, each with an inscription, and looked forward with gentle antic.i.p.ation to the long summer days when, with Lady Mary in her lap, she would sit on those graves clad in the deepest mourning.
The fact that the unhappy victims at times moved as it were uneasily in their graves or snored, did not affect Polly's imaginative contemplation, nor withhold the tears that gathered in her round eyes.
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Presently the lids of the round eyes began to droop, the landscape beyond began to grow more confused, and sometimes to disappear entirely and reappear again with startling distinctness. Then a sound of rippling water from the little stream that flowed from the mouth of the tunnel soothed her and seemed to carry her away with it, and then everything was dark.
The next thing she remembered was that she was apparently being carried along on some gliding object to the sound of rippling water.
She was not alone, for her three companions were lying beside her, rather tightly packed and squeezed in the same mysterious vehicle.
Even in the profound darkness that surrounded her, Polly could feel and hear that they were accompanied, and once or twice a faint streak of light from the side of the tunnel showed her gigantic shadows walking slowly on either side of the gliding car. She felt the little hands of her a.s.sociates seeking hers, and knew they were awake and conscious, and she returned to each a rea.s.suring pressure from the large protecting instinct of her maternal little heart.
Presently the car glided into an open s.p.a.ce of bright light, and stopped. The transition from the darkness of the tunnel at first dazzled their eyes. It was like a dream.
They were in a circular cavern from which three other tunnels like the one they had pa.s.sed through, diverged. The walls, lit up by fifty or sixty candles stuck at irregular intervals in crevices of the rock, were of glittering quartz and mica. But more remarkable than all were the inmates of the cavern, who were ranged round the walls; men, who like their attendants, seemed to be of extra stature; who had blackened faces, wore red bandanna handkerchiefs round their heads and their waists, and carried enormous knives and pistols stuck in their belts. On a raised platform made of a packing box, on which was rudely painted a skull and cross bones, sat the chief or leader of the band covered with a buffalo robe; on either side of him were two small barrels marked "Grog" and "Gunpowder."
The children stared and clung closer to Polly. Yet, in spite of these desperate and warlike accessories, the strangers bore a singular resemblance to "Christy Minstrels" in their blackened faces and att.i.tudes that somehow made them seem less awful. In particular, Polly was impressed with the fact that even the most ferocious had a certain kindliness of eye, and showed their teeth almost idiotically.
"Welcome," said the leader. "Welcome to the Pirate's Cave! The Red Rover of the North Fork of the Stanislaus River salutes the Queen of the Pirate Isle!" He rose up and made an extraordinary bow. It was repeated by the others with more or less exaggeration to the point of one humourist losing his balance!
"O, thank you very much," said Polly, timidly, but drawing her little flock closer to her with a small protecting arm; "but could you--would you--please--tell us--what time it is?"
"We are approaching the Middle of Next Week," said the leader, gravely; "but what of that? Time is made for slaves! The Red Rover seeks it not! Why should the Queen?"
"I think we must be going," hesitated Polly, yet by no means displeased with the recognition of her rank.
"Not until we have paid homage to your Majesty," returned the leader. "What ho! there! Let Brother Step-and-Fetch-It pa.s.s the Queen around that we may do her honour." Observing that Polly shrank slightly back, he added: "Fear nothing, the man who hurts a hair of Her Majesty's head, dies by this hand. Ah! ha!"
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The others all said, ha! ha! and danced alternately on one leg and then on the other, but always with the same dark resemblance to Christy Minstrels. Brother Step-and-Fetch-It, whose very long beard had a confusing suggestion of being a part of the leader's buffalo robe, lifted her gently in his arms and carried her to the Red Rovers in turn. Each one bestowed a kiss upon her cheek or forehead, and would have taken her in his arms, or on his knees, or otherwise lingered over his salute, but they were sternly restrained by their leader. When the solemn rite was concluded, Step-and-Fetch-It paid his own courtesy with an extra squeeze of the curly head, and deposited her again in the truck--a little frightened, a little astonished, but with a considerable accession to her dignity. Hickory and Patsey looked on with stupefied amazement. Wan Lee alone remained stolid and unimpressed, regarding the scene with calm and triangular eyes.
"Will Your Majesty see the Red Rover's dance?"
"No, if you please," said Polly, with gentle seriousness.
"Will Your Majesty fire this barrel of Gunpowder, or tap this breaker of Grog?"
"No, I thank you."
"Is there no command Your Majesty would lay upon us?"
"No, please," said Polly, in a failing voice.
"Is there anything Your Majesty has lost? Think again! Will Your Majesty deign to cast your royal eyes on this?"
He drew from under his buffalo robe what seemed like a long tress of blond hair, and held it aloft. Polly instantly recognized the missing scalp of her hapless doll.
"If you please, Sir, it's Lady Mary's. She's lost it."
"And lost it--Your Majesty--only to find something more precious!
Would Your Majesty hear the story?"
A little alarmed, a little curious, a little self-anxious, and a little induced by the nudges and pinches of her companions, the Queen blushingly signified her royal a.s.sent.
"Enough. Bring refreshments. Will Your Majesty prefer winter-green, peppermint, rose, or accidulated drops? Red or white? Or perhaps Your Majesty will let me recommend these bull's eyes," said the leader, as a collection of sweets in a hat were suddenly produced from the barrel labelled "Gunpowder" and handed to the children.
"Listen," he continued, in a silence broken only by the gentle sucking of bull's eyes. "Many years ago the old Red Rovers of these parts locked up all their treasures in a secret cavern in this mountain. They used spells and magic to keep it from being entered or found by anybody, for there was a certain mark upon it made by a peculiar rock that stuck out of it, which signified what there was below. Long afterwards, other Red Rovers who had heard of it, came here and spent days and days trying to discover it; digging holes and blasting tunnels like this, but of no use! Sometimes they thought they discovered the magic marks in the peculiar rock that stuck out of it, but when they dug there they found no treasure. And why? Because there was a magic spell upon it. And what was that magic spell? Why, this! It could only be discovered by a person who could not possibly know that he or she had discovered it, who never could or would be able to enjoy it, who could never see it, never feel it, never, in fact know anything at all about it! It wasn't a dead man, it wasn't an animal, it wasn't a baby!"
"Why," said Polly, jumping up and clapping her hands, "it was a Dolly."
"Your Majesty's head is level! Your Majesty has guessed it!" said the leader, gravely. "It was Your Majesty's own dolly, Lady Mary, who broke the spell! When Your Majesty came down the slide, the doll fell from your gracious hand when your foot slipped. Your Majesty recovered Lady Mary, but did not observe that her hair had caught in a peculiar rock, called the 'Outcrop,' and remained behind! When, later on, while sitting with your attendants at the mouth of the tunnel, Your Majesty discovered that Lady Mary's hair was gone; I overheard Your Majesty, and despatched the trusty Step-and-Fetch-It to seek it at the mountain side. He did so, and found it clinging to the rock, and beneath it--the entrance to the Secret Cave!"
Patsey and Hickory, who, failing to understand a word of this explanation, had given themselves up to the unconstrained enjoyment of the sweets, began now to apprehend that some change was impending, and prepared for the worst by hastily swallowing what they had in their mouths, thus defying enchantment, and getting ready for speech. Polly, who had closely followed the story, albeit with the embellishments of her own imagination, made her eyes rounder than ever. A bland smile broke on Wan Lee's face, as, to the children's amazement, he quietly disengaged himself from the group and stepped before the leader.
"Melican man plenty foolee Melican chillern. No foolee China boy!
China boy knowee you. _You_ no Led Lofer. _You_ no Pilat--you allee same tunnel man--you Bob Johnson! Me shabbee you! You dressee up allee same as Led Lofer--but you Bob Johnson--allee same. My fader washee washee for you. You no payee him. You owee him folty dolla!
Me blingee you billee. You no payee billee! You say, 'Chalkee up, John.' You say, 'Bimeby, John.' But me no catchee folty dolla!"
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A roar of laughter followed, in which even the leader apparently forgot himself enough to join. But the next moment springing to his feet, he shouted, "Ho! ho! A traitor! Away with him to the deepest dungeon beneath the castle moat!"
Hickory and Patsey began to whimper. But Polly, albeit with a tremulous lip, stepped to the side of her little Pagan friend.
"Don't you dare to touch him," she said, with a shake of unexpected determination in her little curly head; "if you do, I'll tell my father, and he will slay you! All of you--there!"
"Your father! Then you are _not_ the Queen!"
It was a sore struggle to Polly to abdicate her royal position, it was harder to do it with befitting dignity. To evade the direct question she was obliged to abandon her defiant att.i.tude. "If you please, Sir," she said, hurriedly, with an increasing colour and no stops, "we're not always pirates, you know, and Wan Lee is only our boy what brushes my shoes in the morning, and runs of errands, and he doesn't mean anything bad, Sir, and we'd like to take him back home with us."
"Enough," said the leader, changing his entire manner with the most sudden and shameless inconsistency. "You shall go back together, and woe betide the miscreant who would prevent it. What say you brothers? What shall be his fate who dares to separate our n.o.ble Queen from her faithful Chinese henchman?"
"He shall die!" roared the others, with beaming cheerfulness.
"And what say you--shall we see them home?"
"We will!" roared the others.
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Before the children could fairly comprehend what had pa.s.sed, they were again lifted into the truck and began to glide back into the tunnel they had just quitted. But not again in darkness and silence; the entire band of Red Rovers accompanied them, illuminating the dark pa.s.sage with the candles they had s.n.a.t.c.hed from the walls. In a few moments they were at the entrance again. The great world lay beyond them once more with rocks and valleys suffused by the rosy light of the setting sun. The past seemed like a dream.
But were they really awake now? They could not tell. They accepted everything with the confidence and credulity of all children who have no experience to compare with their first impressions and to whom the future contains nothing impossible. It was without surprise, therefore, that they felt themselves lifted on the shoulders of the men who were making quite a procession along the steep trail towards the settlement again. Polly noticed that at the mouth of the other tunnels they were greeted by men as if they were carrying tidings of great joy; that they stopped to rejoice together, and that in some mysterious manner their conductors had got their faces washed, and had become more like beings of the outer world. When they neared the settlement the excitement seemed to have become greater; people rushed out to shake hands with the men who were carrying them, and overpowered even the children with questions they could not understand. Only one sentence Polly could clearly remember as being the burden of all congratulations. "Struck the old lead at last!" With a faint consciousness that she knew something about it, she tried to a.s.sume a dignified att.i.tude on the leader's shoulders even while she was beginning to be heavy with sleep.
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And then she remembered a crowd near her father's house, out of which her father came smiling pleasantly on her, but not interfering with her triumphal progress until the leader finally deposited her in her mother's lap in their own sitting room. And then she remembered being "cross" and declining to answer any questions, and shortly afterwards found herself comfortably in bed. Then she heard her mother say to her father:--