CHAPTER XXV.
THE CHAPEL.
The boys worked with the utmost swiftness, expecting every moment tosee the captain and Chris appear, but, luckily, those two, wearied bytheir hard work, had paused to rest before returning with their load.
"Thirty-one," counted Walter as he lowered the last grinning skeletoninto the pit. "There seems a kind of stern justice in their presentposition, Charley," he continued. "Now, they are resting side by sidewith those whom they tortured and enslaved while living."
"They paid terribly for their cruelty," said his chum, fingering theflint arrow-heads he had found by the skeletons. "The whole story isas plain as print. The thirty men whose bones we have just disposedof, enslaved and tortured members of what was at that time a greatrace, working them as slaves in building these walls, and in thatterrible quarry. I confess to a feeling of admiration for them, inspite of their cruelty. They must have been great warriors, though sofew in numbers, to hold at bay one of the bravest of the Indian tribes."
"I wonder why they remained in this awful swamp," said Walter, musingly.
"Case of necessity, perhaps," Charley replied, thoughtfully. "They hadprobably lost many men by the time they reached this island, and hadconcluded that to continue on meant utter annihilation, while herethey, with their superior arms and suits of mail, could stand off theenemy. So they decided to remain and make the best of it. With thelabor of the Indians they captured from time to time they proceeded tofortify the island and make it more secure."
Walter gazed at his chum admiringly. "You talk as though you saw itall in front of your eyes," he declared.
Charley did not heed the interruption. "Years went by," he continued,musingly, like one in a dream, "years in which they grew more and moreconfident of their own power, and learned to despise their red foes.But the Seminoles were only waiting with the patience of their race.Mark the cunning of the savage. There comes a day and night offeasting and rejoicing in the Spaniards' religious calendar. Work andworry is laid aside and they gather in their homes to feast andrejoice. Night comes and as the sun sets the sentries cast a lookaround. Nothing is in sight. There is nothing to fear. They join themerry-makers, and care and their suits of mail are laid aside, andmerriment prevails. The Indians' hour has come. Over the walls swarma red horde, creeping towards the unsuspecting feasters. One longwar-whoop, a shower of arrows, cries of agony, and all is over."
Charley stopped. "I've been talking like a five cent novel," he said,sheepishly.
"I'll bet that is just the way it really happened," his chum declared."That explains why the fort was empty."
"Perhaps," Charley said, "but here comes Chris and the captain, andwe'll have to change the subject."
"I 'spect you-alls don't pay no 'tention 'tall to dis dinner," grumbledChris. "De fire's all out, mighty nigh."
"We are not good cooks like you, Chris," said Charley soothingly, andthe vain little darky grinned at the compliment.
"Golly, I reckon dat's so," he declared pompously, "you chillens sho'don't know nothin' 'bout cookin'. Spect you-alls mighty near starve todeath if it warn't for dis nigger. You chillens jes' get out, an' I'llfinish gettin' de dinner."
The boys, relieved of the cooking, turned their attention to othertasks. They carried the two canoes into the empty fort and placed thembottom up in one corner. The other goods they piled up in the shade ofa tree.
Charley then disappeared but soon came back with a large kettle he hadnoticed when removing the skeletons. "It's copper," he said,exhibiting it proudly, "with a little cleaning it will be as good aswhen it was made. We need it for boiling water, for we have got toclean house this afternoon."
While he carried the copper to the spring and scrubbed lustily awaywith sand to remove the green verdigris with which it was thicklycoated, Walter attempted the manufacture of a mop. Selecting astraight piece of the root of a scrub palmetto, which grew in abundancearound the wall, he trimmed it with his knife into the desired shapeand size. Laying the piece, thus prepared, upon a large stone, hepounded one side of it lustily with a piece of rock. A few minutessufficed to pound out the pith and leave the harsh fiber exposed.
By the time the two lads had completed their respective tasks, Chrisannounced that dinner was ready and all fell to with appetitessharpened by the morning's work.
As soon as dinner was finished, the copper kettle was filled with waterand placed upon the fire. By the time the water had come to a boil,the party was sufficiently rested to attack the house cleaning.
The building nearest the fort was selected as their future abode, andnever did mansion receive a more thorough scouring. Walter plied thebrush, while the captain dashed the water about, and Chris wiped thefloor dry with armfuls of Spanish moss. Charley, on account of hisstill lame shoulder, was excused from this labor.
Leaving his companions thus busily employed, Charley took his way tothe building that had aroused his curiosity in the morning, the one inwhich they had found no skeletons.
This building was a trifle larger than its fellows and differed verylittle from them in external appearance, except that from its roofprojected a little tower. It was the inside, however, which hadexcited our young hunter's curiosity. At one end was a kind of raisedplatform and the space between it and the entrance was filled withbenches of stone. Charley reverently removed his hat ad he entered,for he had guessed the character of the place during his morning visit.It was a chapel that the hardy adventurers of long ago had erected forthe worship of their Maker.
Upon the stone altar stood several vessels, likely of gold or otherprecious metal for they were apparently untouched by the ravages oftime. Charley gave them hardly a glance but passed on to the end ofthe building until he stood beneath the tiny tower.
One glance upwards, and he uttered an exclamation of satisfaction.Directly above his head in the little tower hung a large ship's bell.A part of the mystery of the tolling was solved, but the most puzzlingpart remained.
Charley sat down on one of the stone benches and fell into a deepstudy. There was the bell but where was the mysterious ringer? Thebell rope had long ago rotted away. The walls had once been plasteredand were still too smooth to offer a foothold to the most expertclimber. How then to account for the regular nightly tolling? Themystery had in reality deepened instead of lightened.
When Charley at last left the building, he was still puzzled in mindand had decided to say nothing about his discovery to his companions.Chris and the captain would be sure to view the matter in its mostsupernatural light.
On his return, he found the house scrubbed sweet and clean and theworkers taking a rest after their labors. Feeling that he had notperformed his just share of the work of the day, Charley took uponhimself the carrying in and arranging of their possessions. With theseunpacked and arranged, the room looked less bare and much more cozy andhome-like.
But Charley viewed their scanty possessions with a trace ofdissatisfaction. Two rifles, two shotguns, a half of their ammunition,and a half of their scanty stock of provisions had been lost when thecanoe upset. Of their original outfit, the two boys retained onlytheir pistols and ammunition and the tattered clothes they werewearing. The captain and Chris still had their four guns but theirclothing was as rent and tattered as the two boys'. Of the provisionsthere only remained a little sugar, a few pounds of flour, and a smallstrip of bacon.
"I tell you what it is," said Charley, as he joined his companionoutside, "we have got to do some tall hustling the next two days. Wehave got to lay in a stock of food sufficient to last us for at least aweek, and we have got to make some kind of windows and doors for thatbuilding, besides, which, we have got to manufacture some kind ofclothing for ourselves--mine are almost dropping from me."
"My, what a list of impossibilities!" groaned Walter. "Frankly, I donot feel as though I could do another stroke of work to-day."
"No, we are all too tired for further effort to-day," Charley agreed,"but we
must get an early start in the morning. We will get someboughs for beds, have supper, and knock off for the day."
"I know just the stuff we want for beds," Walter declared, "there arelots of the bushes growing just outside the wall."
The bush Walter referred to, proved to be a species of myrtle withsmall leafy boughs of a delicious, spicy fragrance. It grew soabundantly, that in a few minutes the boys had gathered a largequantity, which they carried back to the building and spread in fourgreat heaps on the floor. Upon these their blankets were spread, andthe room took on a cozy, homelike appearance.
Supper was cooked over the camp-fire outside and by the time it waseaten, night had begun to fall. The little party at once repaired totheir room. They know that the night air of the great swamp waspeculiarly unhealthy. Already they had exposed themselves far too muchto its baneful influence.
They stretched out on their soft, fragrant couches and talked cheerilyover the events of the day and their present situation. Not since theyhad left the camp on the point, had the boys felt so bright andhopeful. They were well housed, none were sick, they were all togetheronce more, and even the threatened danger from the convicts did notcause them great uneasiness. They felt confident of their ability nowto keep the outlaws at bay until help arrived.
But their content was not to last long, for soon, harsh, and menacingin its nearness, rang out the tolling of the bell.
The captain, brave as the bravest in most any kind of danger, turned asickly white and sunk to his knees in prayer, while Chris, trembling inevery limb, buried his face in the blanket to shut out the awful sounds.
"Come, Walt," whispered Charley, and the two boys stole out into thedarkness of the night. A few steps brought them to the chapel, andpistols in hand they circled around it in opposite directions, buttheir eager eyes caught no sight of moving forms.
"It must be on the inside," declared Charley, as they met near thedoor. "Let's go in and see."
It took all their courage to venture into that dim, mysteriousinterior, but the boys never hesitated, but stepped boldly in. Backand forth they paced the grim interior, searching every nook andcorner, and found nothing. Not even a sound fell on their strainedhearing, save only the strong, steady tolling above their heads.
Charley stood under the little tower and gazed longingly up into itsdarkness where the bell, under some mysterious power, swayed steadilyto and fro.
"I wish I could get up there, I'd tie the thing down," he declared."If this keeps up, we will have our hands full to keep Chris and thecaptain on the island."
"Come away, Charley," said Walter, nervously, "this thing is gettingpositively uncanny. I declare I am beginning to feel a sympathy forChris' terrors."
The two lads retraced their steps to the hut where they found thecaptain, in spite of his superstitious fears, preparing to sally out insearch of them.
For long the two boys sat trying to argue the captain and Chris out oftheir superstitious fears. They might as well have tried to argueagainst fate itself.
"Aye, lads," the captain would say in reply to their logic, "I knowspirits seem against reason to shore-staying folks, but sailors knowbetter. Now there was Tom Bowling who took to hearing bells during hiswatch on deck, an' not two days later, poor old Tom was missing."
"Went crazy and jumped over-board," muttered Charley, but the captainshook his head with the air of a man who had no doubt as to the natureof his friend's fate.
It was not long after the bell ceased tolling that the last of thelittle party fell into a troubled sleep.
Boy Chums in the Forest; Or, Hunting for Plume Birds in the Florida Everglades Page 25