The Adventures of Captain Horn

by Frank Richard Stockton

  CHAPTER XXII

  A PACK-MULE

  When Captain Horn felt quite sure that it was not Ralph, that it was notCheditafa, that it was not a Rackbird, who had visited the treasuremound, he stood and reflected. What had happened was a greatmisfortune,--possibly it was a great danger,--but it was no use standingthere thinking about it. His reason could not help him; it had done forhim all that it could, and it would be foolish to waste time in lookingfor the man, for it was plain enough that he had gone away. Of course, hehad taken some gold with him, but that did not matter much. The dangerwas that he or others might come back for more, but this could not beprevented, and it was needless to consider it. The captain had come tothis deserted shore for a purpose, and it was his duty, without loss oftime, to go to work and carry out that purpose. If in any way he shouldbe interfered with, he would meet that interference as well as he could,but until it came he would go on with his work. Having come to thisconclusion, he got over the wall, lighted his lantern, and proceeded tothe mound.

  On his way he passed the tin cup, which he had forgotten to pick up, butnow he merely kicked it out of the way. "If the man comes back," hethought, "he knows the way. There is no need of concealing anything."

  When the captain had reached the top of the mound, he moved the stone lidso that the aperture was entirely uncovered. Then he looked down upon themass of dull yellow bars. He could not perceive any apparent diminutionof their numbers.

  "He must have filled his pockets," the captain thought, "and so full thatsome of them dropped out. Well, let him go, and if he ventures back here,we shall have it out between us. In the meantime, I will do what I can."

  The captain now took from the pocket of his jacket two small canvas bags,which he had had made for this purpose, and proceeded to fill one of themwith the gold bars, lifting the bag, every now and then, to try itsweight. When he thought it heavy enough, he tied up the end very firmly,and then packed the other, as nearly as possible, to the same extent.Then he got down, and laying one of the bags over each shoulder, hewalked about to see if he could easily bear their weight.

  "That is about right," he said to himself. "I will count them when I takethem out." Then, putting them down, he went up for his lantern. He wasabout to close the lid of the mound, but he reflected that this would beof no use. It had been open nobody knew how long, and might as wellremain so. He was coming back as often as he could, and it would be a taxupon his strength to lift that heavy lid every time. So he left thetreasures of the Incas open to the air under the black roof of thecavern, and, with his lantern in his hand and a bag of gold on eachshoulder, he left the cave of the lake, and then, concealing his lantern,he walked down to the sea.

  Before he reached it he had thoroughly scanned the ocean, but not a signof a ship could be seen. Walking along the sands, and keeping, asbefore, close to the curving line of water thrown up by the surf, hesaid to himself:

  "I must have my eyes and ears open, but I am not going to be nervous orfidgety. I came here to be a pack-mule, and I intend to be a pack-muleuntil something stops me, and if that something is one man, he can lookout for himself."

  The bags were heavy and their contents were rough and galling to theshoulders, but the captain was strong and his muscles were tough, and ashe walked he planned a pair of cushions which he would wear under hisgolden epaulets in his future marches.

  When the captain had covered the two miles of beach and climbed the tworocky ridges, and reached his tent, it was long after noon, and throwinghis two bags on the ground and covering them with a blanket, he proceededto prepare his dinner. He laid out a complete working-plan, and one ofthe rules he had made was that, if possible, nothing should interferewith his regular meals and hours of sleep. The work he had set forhimself was arduous in the extreme, and calculated to tax his energies tothe utmost, and he must take very good care of his health and strength.In thinking over the matter, he had feared that the greed of gold mightpossess him, and that, in his anxiety to carry away as much as he could,he might break down, and everything be lost.

  Even now he found himself calculating how much gold he had brought awayin the two bags, and what would be its value in coined money, multiplyingand estimating with his food untouched and his eyes fixed on the distantsea. Suddenly he clenched his fist and struck it on his knee.

  "I must stop this," he said. "I shall be upset if I don't. I will notcount the bars in those bags. I will not make any more estimates. A roughguess now and then I cannot help, but what I have to do is to bring awayall the gold I can. It will be time enough to find out what it is worthwhen it is safe somewhere in North America."

  When the captain had finished his meal, he went to his tent, and openedone of the trunks which he had brought with him, and which were supposedto contain the clothes and personal effects he had bought in Lima. Thistrunk, however, was entirely filled with rolls of cheap cotton cloth,coarse and strong, but not heavy. With a pair of shears he proceeded tocut from one of these some pieces, rather more than a foot square. Then,taking from his canvas bags as many of the gold bars as he thought wouldweigh twelve or fifteen pounds, trying not to count them as he did so, hemade a little package of them, tying the corners of the cloth togetherwith a strong cord. When five of these bundles had been prepared, hisgold was exhausted, and then he carried the small bundles out to theguano-bags.

  He had bought his guano in bulk, and it had been put into bags under hisown supervision, for it was only in bags that the ship which was to takeit north would receive it. The bags were new and good, and Captain Hornbelieved that each of them could be made twelve or fifteen pounds heavierwithout attracting the attention of those who might have to lift them,for they were very heavy as it was.

  He now opened a bag of guano, and thrusting a stick down into itscontents, he twisted it about until he had made a cavity which enabledhim, with a little trouble, to thrust one of the packages of gold downinto the centre of the bag. Then he pressed the guano down firmly, andsewed up the bag again, being provided with needles and an abundance ofnecessary cord. When this was done, the bag containing the gold did notdiffer in appearance from the others, and the captain again assuredhimself that the additional weight would not be noticed by a commonstevedore, especially if all the bags were about the same weight. At thisthought he stopped work and looked out toward the sea, his mindinvoluntarily leaping out toward calculations based upon the happy chanceof his being able to load all the bags; but he checked himself. "Stopthat," he said. "Go to work!"

  Five guano-bags were packed, each with its bundle of gold, but the taskwas a disagreeable, almost a distressing, one, for the strong ammoniacalodor sometimes almost overpowered the captain, who had a great dislikefor such smells. But he never drew back, except now and then to turn hishead and take a breath of purer air. He was trying to make his fortune,and when men are doing that, their likes and dislikes must stand aside.

  When this task was finished, the captain took up his two empty canvasbags and went back to the caves, returning late in the afternoon, loadedrather more heavily than before. From the experiences of the morning, hebelieved that, with some folded pieces of cloth on each shoulder, hecould carry without discomfort a greater weight than his first ones. Thegold he now brought was made up into six bundles, and then the captainrested from his labors. He felt that he could do a much better day's workthan this, but this day had been very much broken up, and he was stillsomewhat awkward.

  Day after day Captain Horn labored at his new occupation, and a toilsomeoccupation it was, which no one who did not possess great powers ofendurance, and great hopes from the results of his work, could haveundergone. In about a month the schooner was to be expected with anotherload of guano, and the captain felt that he must, if possible, finish histask before she came back. In a few days he found that, by practice andimprovements in his system of work, he was able to make four trips a daybetween the cove of the Rackbirds and the caves. He rose very early inthe morning, and made two trips before dinner. Sometimes he
thought hemight do more, but he restrained himself. It would not do for him to getback too tired to sleep.

  During this time in which his body was so actively employed, his mind wasalmost as active, and went out on all sorts of excursions, some of thembeneficial and some of them otherwise. Sometimes the thought came to him,as he plodded along bearing his heavy bags, that he was no more than acommon thief, carrying away treasures which did not belong to him. Then,of course, he began to reason away these uncomfortable reflections. Ifthis treasure did not belong to him, to whom did it belong? Certainly notto the descendants of those Spaniards from whom the original owners hadstriven so hard to conceal it. If the spirits of the Incas could speak,they would certainly declare in his favor over that of the children ofthe men who, in blood and torture, had obliterated them and theirinstitutions. Sometimes such arguments entirely satisfied the captain;but if they did not entirely satisfy him, he put the whole matter aside,to be decided upon after he should safely reach the United States withsuch treasure as he might be able to take with him.

  "Then," he thought, "we can do what we think is right. I shall listen toall that may be said by our party, and shall act justly. But what I donot take away with me has no chance whatever of ever falling into theproper hands."

  But no matter how he might terminate such reflections, the captain alwaysblamed himself for allowing his mind to occupy itself with them. He hadfully decided that this treasure belonged to him, and there was no realreason for his thinking of such things, except that he had no one to talkto, and in such cases a man's thoughts are apt to run wild.

  Often and often he wondered what the others were thinking about thisaffair, and whether or not they would all be able to keep the secretuntil he returned. He was somewhat afraid of Mrs. Cliff. He believed herto be an honorable woman who would not break her word, but still he didnot know all her ideas in regard to her duty. She might think there wassome one to whom she ought to confide what had happened, and what wasexpected to happen, and if she should do this, there was no reason whyhe should not, some day, descry a ship in the offing withtreasure-hunters on board.

  Ralph gave him no concern at all, except that he was young, and thecaptain could foretell the weather much better than the probable actionsof a youth.

  But these passing anxieties never amounted to suspicions. It was farbetter to believe in Mrs. Cliff and Ralph, and he would do it; and everytime he thought of the two, he determined to believe in them. As to Edna,there was no question about believing in her. He did so withoutconsideration for or against belief.

  The captain did not like his solitary life. How happy he would have beenif they could all have remained here; if the guano could have beenbrought without the crew of the schooner knowing that there were peoplein the caves; if the negroes could have carried the bags of gold; ifevery night, after having superintended their labors, he could have goneback to the caves, which, with the comforts he could have brought fromLima, would have made a very habitable home; if--But these werereflections which were always doomed to banishment as soon as the captainbecame aware of the enthralment of their charm, and sturdily onward,endeavoring to fix his mind upon some better sailor's knot with which totie up his bundles, or to plant his feet where his tracks would soon beobliterated by the incoming waves, the strong man trudged, bearingbravely the burden of his golden hopes.