With Cochrane the DauntlessHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
With Cochrane the Dauntless
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Biographical fiction; Dundonald, Thomas Cochrane, Earl of, 1775-1860
A week later they were established in their new camp. The sugar, coffee,
and other articles were all repacked in the casks, which were headed up
again to protect them from the weather and the assaults of insects,
portions sufficient for a week’s consumption only being left out. The
labour had been great, but the Peruvian captain seconded Stephen’s efforts
well. The steward, however, grumbled frequently, and had many times to be
spoken to sharply by the captain. Another week was spent in fortifying the
position. Young trees were cut down and stuck in the earth two feet apart
in the intervals between the trees. A wattle-work of the tough thorny
creepers was interwoven across the little promontory, eight feet high.
This was painful work, for, however careful they were, they frequently
tore their hands with the spikes.
When this was done a similar defence was made along at the edge of the
water to within a short distance of the falls. This was carried to the
height of five feet only. A tent had been erected with canvas brought from
the wreck, thrown over a pole, fixed between two trees, and in a smaller
one by its side the barrels were stowed.
“Now, captain,” Stephen said, as they spent a day in absolute rest after
their labours, “there is one more thing to be done.”
“What is that, señor?”
“It is that gold. You said there were five hundred thousand dollars, which
comes to a hundred thousand pounds in our money. That, as we know, is
lying safely in the stern, for we looked the day after the wreck. So long
as it is there it is safe enough, but the next storm that comes will
certainly smash up the wreck altogether, and the boxes may be swept into
the deep water between her and the shore. Now at the present moment we may
consider that gold to be common property. If a Spanish ship ever comes
here she will, of course, capture it; if, on the other hand, an English or
a Chilian vessel arrives, I shall hand it over to them as their lawful
prize. If neither of them come, which is most likely by far, it is worth
nothing to anyone. I think we ought to get it ashore, and bury it in the
sand above high-water mark.”
“I think that that would be a very good plan,” the captain agreed. “We may
manage in time to get away somehow, and even if we cannot take it all, we
might take some of it. There will be no great trouble in getting it
ashore. The boxes weigh a hundred pounds each. There are twenty of them,
and the raft would take them in three or four journeys. If we make an
early start, we ought to get the job done easily enough in a day. The gold
is of no use to us now; but we may be here for years, and if it is long
before we get away, the Spaniards may be driven out of Peru as they have
been out of Chili. Your admiral will have gone home. There will be no one
to claim the treasure; the Spanish government has lost it, the Chilian has
never gained it, and it will be a sort of windfall that we can with a
clear conscience divide between ourselves.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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