“Yes. A limited one. But still. Had our plans been bruited abroad, we should have had a lot of opposition.” “Who’d have taken the sweat to lift a finger to stop you?” said Stukeley. “The West Indian merchants,” replied Margaret. “And the Chartered Brazil Wood Company, and the Spanish ambassador, among others, would have given us a lot of opposition. In fact, had the Spaniards known of it, we might have spared ourselves the trouble of sailing.” “Hear, hear, sir,” said Cammock quietly. “Our friend the beadle knows his job,” said Stukeley. “Fill Captain Cammock’s glass, Edward.” “Fill mine, too, please, waiter,” said Stukeley. “To continue,” said Margaret. “Had the Spaniards known, we should have found the place of our intended settlement in the hands of Spanish troops.” “Settlement?” said Stukeley. “Yes. A settlement. To be short, my plan is to land on the Isthmus, found an English colony, and open up a trade, a real trade, mind you, with the Indians of Darien. Now that is the rough outline of the scheme. Now, Captain Cammock. Now comes your part. I’m going to cross-examine you. You know the Isthmus thoroughly. Have you landed on the Main? I know you have, of course. But we must begin at the beginning.” “I been there a many times, right along. Mostly looking for food,” said Cammock. “Did you ever meet the Indians?” “I’ve been up agin all kinds of Indians.” “Are there many kinds?” “There’s three kinds.” “Three? What are the three?” “I don’t mind telling you, sir. There’s one kind comes and says, ‘O Sieur,’ and brings you these great bananas and spears fish for you. There’s some sense in them ones. Give ’em a handful of beads and they’ll fill you a pannikin of gold dust. They’re getting spoiled, of course, like everything else. But where they ain’t been got at they’re good still. That’s one kind.” “And the others?” “There’s another kind no one seen. They say they’re white, this second kind. They live in the woods; in stone houses, too, for the matter of that. And they wear gold masks. No one ever seen ’em, mind you. But you lay out in the woods near ’em, and the first night you’ll hear like singing all round you.” “Singing?” “Like little birds. I never like singing like what that is. You only get it the first night.” “Oh. That’s very curious. What happens then?” “The second night, if you lay out in the woods, you get your ’ed cut off. You find your corp in the morning, that’s what you find.” “Why do they cut your head off?” said Perrin. “Their idea of fun, I s’pose,” said Cammock, with a grin. “Come to that, a corp is a funny thing with no ’ed. They take the ’eds and pickle them after: I’ve seen ’em.” “What do they do with the heads?” asked Perrin, “when they’ve pickled them?” “They wear ’em round their necks, for ornament,” said Cammock. “If one of them ducks gets a reglar necklace, like a dozen ’eds, he thinks he’s old Sir Henry.” “Sir Henry?” “Like a Admiral,” explained the buccaneer.