Dutch the Diver: or, A Man's Mistake

“Home, sweet home!” said the others in chorus, as they drained their glasses, saving Dutch, who sat moodily thinking. For these words had recalled happy days that were past. There was no happy home for him, and it seemed as if a wandering life would be the happiest that he could now look forward to in the future.

At last, being weary with their exertions, the watch was set and they went below, the doctor sternly forbidding any one from lying down to sleep on the deck, – a most tempting place in the heat; and no sooner had the captain taken a look round than a couple of dark figures crept stealthily from under the tarpaulin that covered a boat, and were joined by another, who cautiously came forward to join them from the forecastle hatch, the three getting together under the dark shelter of the bulwarks, where earnest conversation was carried on in a whisper.

About half-an-hour later another dark figure crept out upon the deck, and stood listening for a few moments before going down on hands and knees, and then apparently flat upon the deck, to worm its way towards where a faint light shone up from the cabin, and gaze cautiously down through the skylight as far as it could for the wire protection spread over the glass.

Apparently satisfied, the figure crept forward again, and made for the hatch leading down to the berths occupied by Mr Jones, the doctor, the naturalist, Rasp, and where Sam Oakum also turned in.

Now, it so happened that the latter gentleman was enjoying a strange nightmare, in which it seemed to him that Rasp had, out of spite, forced him into one of the diving suits, made him go to the bottom of the sea, and had then suddenly cut off the supply of air. He fought, he struggled, he grunted, he made every effort he could to breathe, but all in vain, and in the horror of the suffocating sensation he awoke to find that a hand was pressed heavily upon his mouth, while another seemed busy at his breast.

Story 1-Chapter XXV.

’Pollo’s Report

Oakum was not a man to shout for help, but to act, and act he did on the instant by turning sharply round, and seizing his assailant by the throat. He lowered his hands, though, in a moment, for a thick voice whispered —

“Don’t make ’tupid bobbery, Mass’ Sam Oakum, sah, or you wake de oder gentlemen.”

“What’s up, ’Pollo?” said Oakum, in the same low tone, for he was awake now to the fact that something was wrong. “Injins?”

“No, sah, I tink not; but you come out here, sah, where de oder gentleman not hear, and I tell you.”

Oakum squabbled with ’Pollo every day, but they were very old shipmates, and the rough sailor had the most abundant confidence in the black, so he drew on his trousers, and cautiously followed him to the foot of the steps, where ’Pollo sat down, and Oakum knelt by his side.

“Now, then, what’s up?” growled Oakum.

“I tell you, sah, reckly, but first must ’fess somefin to you.”

“Go ahead then, my hearty,” was the reply.

“Well, sah, while I busy all de mornin’ in my galley, I see de beauful lump of silber brought up ober and ober again, and I see Mass’ Jone and noder sailor busy knock off de shell and tuff, and frow him all of a heap.”

“Yes, and there it lies now on deck,” said Sam, “instead of being shyed overboard. What o’ that?”

“Well, sah, no able to sleep ’cause of dat, and so I get out of my hammock and creep all soft like on deck.”

“What, did you get some of the bits o’ shell in your blanket.”

“No, sah, no,” chuckled ’Pollo. “You know me, Mass’ Sam Oakum, sah, we berry ole friend, and go froo deal ob trouble togedder.”

“Well, yes, ’Pollo, old man, we have had a hardship or two, but what o’ that?”

“Why, sah, I ’fess eberything to you, sah, and tell you all.”

“Heave ahead, then.”

“Well, sah, I no tink it berry wrong, sah, cause there such a debble ob a lot ob silber, but while I watch Mass’ Jone and de sailor chip, chip, chip at de shell to knock ’em off I see dem knock little bit ob silber too some time, and one time dey fro lump of shell down. I quite sure got big piece of silber inside.”

“And you’ve been up on deck to get hold of it, eh?”

“Yes, Mass’ Oakum, sah, dat’s him.”

“Hand over, and let’s feel the weight on it, ’Pollo, old man, only you needn’t do that, my lad. We found the spot for the govnors, and they’ll come down hansome.”

“Yes, Mass’ Oakum, sah, but I tink it great pity waste anyting, eben bit ob fat, so no like see bit ob silber fro overboard.”

“Where’s the stuff; ’Pollo?”

“I no got um, sah, dat’s why I came to ask you.”

“But is it so heavy as all that, ’Pollo?”

“No, sah, you no understand. I come on deck, find de silber, and I find someting else.”

“What’s that?” said Oakum sleepily.

“I find piece ob de crew, sah, all sit togedder in a corner, hatchin’ mutiny.”

“What?” exclaimed Oakum, whom these words galvanised into an excited state.

“Hatch de mutiny, sah.”

“I’ve good as expected as much,” exclaimed Oakum, giving his leg a slap. “Heave out, and let’s rouse the skipper. The beggars mean treachery.”

“We better go softly then, Mass’ Oakum, sah, or we get knife in de ribs.”

“Right, ’Pollo,” said Oakum; “let’s investigate first and see.”

Creeping softly up the ladder he just raised his head above the coamings of the hatchway, and peered cautiously round, but seeing nothing he drew himself the whole way out, and lay down on deck, ’Pollo following him on the instant.

“Well?” whispered Oakum, “what’s their bearings?”

’Pollo, for answer, crawled away into the darkness, and returned at the end of a couple of minutes to announce that they were all gone.

“Look here, Master ’Pollo,” growled Oakum in a whisper; “if you’ve woke me out of a fine sleep to humbug me, you and I will have a row.”

“I quite suah, sah, dat free sailor fellow set under de bulwark, sah, hatch mutiny.”

“Come and have a look round,” said the old fellow, and together they went softly to the man who had the watch forward, to find that he had heard nothing, though a sharper investigator than Oakum would have come to the conclusion that the fellow had been fast asleep.

A similar result followed the journey aft, when with a growl Oakum walked straight back to the hatchway, where he turned round.

“Lookye here, ’Pollo, old man, you get to your hammock and have a good night’s rest, or you’ll be rolling into the fire fast asleep to-morrow, and burning those beautiful curls of yourn. And lookye here, too, my lad, you leave that there silver rubbish alone, and trust to what the skippers and the govnors give you for reward. Good-night.”

“Dah!” cried ’Pollo, sulkily, “I don’t care who come and take de ship now. I no say word about more. Only get laugh at;” and muttering volubly to himself, he crept back to his hammock, and the next minute he was lying fast asleep with his mouth open.

The morning broke bright and beautiful, with the golden sunshine glinting through the tall columns of the palm-trees ashore, and lighting up the dark vistas of the jungle in the most wonderful manner; but the thoughts of all on board were directed not to the golden sunshine, save that it was available for the manner in which it lit up the depths of the clear sea; and all that day in steady turns Dutch, Mr Parkley, and Rasp went down, working away clearing out the sand, and sending up the iron buckets laden with silver.

Careful probing with the iron rod had shown them that the space in which the treasure lay was not great, only spread over a portion of the lower part of the old galleon of about twelve feet by sixteen; everywhere else the rod would penetrate to any depth, save where it came in contact with the old hardened ribs of the ship, or portions of its keel, and they gave forth to the touch such unmistakable signs of what the opposing material was that the adventurers were quite content.