Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1898-03-10

the western shore DCgan 10 rCacu Ils5At
across the anchorage and fall in pat
terms on the deck. The evening breeze
had sprung up, and though it was well
warded off by the hill with the two
peaks upon the east, the cordage had be
gun to sing a little softly to itself and
the idle sails to rattle TO and fro.
1 began to see a danger TO the ship.
The ibis 1 speedily doused and brought
tumbling to the deck; but the mainsail
was a harder matter. OF course, when
the schooner canted over the boom had
swung out-board and the cap of it and
foot or two of sail hung even under
water l thought this made it still more
dangerous; yet the strain was SO heavy
that l half feared to meddle. At last
I got my knife and cut the halyardy.
The peak dropped instantly, n great
{ belly Of loose canvas floated broad upon
the water, and since, pull as l liked,
could not bulge the downhaul, that
was the extent of what L could accom-
plish. For the rest, the "Hispaniola'
must trust to luck, like myself.
By this time the whole anchorage had
fallen into shadow-the last rays, re-
member, falling through n glade of the
wood and shining, bright as jewels, on
the howery mantle of the wreck. 1t
/ began to be chill, the tide was rapidly
! feeting seaward, the schooner settling
/ more and more on her beam-ends.
l scrambled forward and looked over.
1t seemed shallow enough and, holding
the cut hawser in both hands for a last
security, let myself drop softly over
! board The water scarcely reached my
/ waist, the sand was firm and covered
with ripple marks, and | waded ashore
! in great spirits, leaving the "Hispanl-
| ola" on her side, with her mainsail trail
| ing wide upon the surface of the bay.
| About the same time the sun went fair
| ly down and the breeze whistled low in
! the dusk among the tossing pines.
At least, and at last, 1 was off the
sea, nor had 1 returned thence empty
! handed. There lay the schooner, clear
! at last from buccaneers and ready for
! our own men to board and get to sea
| again. l had nothing nearer my fancy
| than to get home to the stockade and
| boast of my achievements. Possibly l
| might be blamed bit for my truantry,
| but the recapture of the "1ispaniola"
was clinching answer, and | hoped
! that even Capt. Smollett would CON
fess l had not lost my time.
So thinking, and in famous spirits,
began to set my face homsward for the
block-house and my companions. Ire
membered that the most easterly of the
rivers which drain into Capt. Kidd's
| anchorage ran from the two-peaked hill
| upon my left, and ] bent my course
| in that direction that l might pass the
! stream while it was small. The wood
| was pretty open, and, keeping along
| the lower spurs, l soon turned the cor
ner of that hill, and not long after
waded to the mid-calf across the water
course.
This brought me near to where en-
countered Ben Gum, the maroon, and
walked more circumspectly, keeping
an eye on every side. The dusk had
come nigh hand completely, and, as
| opened out the cleft between the two
peaks, I became aware of IA waver-
ing glow against the sky, where, as |
| Judged, the man of the island was cook
| ing his supper before a roaring fire.
And yet l wondered, in my heart, that
he should show himself so careless
For IL could see this radiance, might
it not reach the eye of Silver himself
where he camped upon the shore
| among the marshes?
Gradually the night fell blacker; it
was all could do to guide my
self even roughly toward my des-
tination; the double hill behind me
and the Spy-glass on my right
hand loomed faint and fainter;
the stars were few and pale; and in
the low ground where | wandered
kept tripping among the bushes and
rolling into sandy pits.
Suddenly a kind OF brightness fell
about me- I looked up; pale glim-
mcr of moonbeams had alightcd on the
summit Of the Spy-glass, and soon aft
or | saw something broad and silycry
moving low down behind the trees,
and knew the moon had risen.
With this to help me passed rapid
" over what remained to me OF my
journey; and, sometimes walking,
sometimes running, impatiently drew
near to the stockade. Yet, IA / began
to thread the grove that lies before it,
| was not so thoughtless but that !
Stacked my pace and went n trine war
lily. It would have been poor end to
my adventures to get shot down by
my own party in mistake.
The moon was climbing higher and
higher; its light began to fall here and
there I'm masses through the more
| open districts of the wood, and right in
front Of me glow of n different color
| appeared among the trees. 1t was red
and hot. and now and again II was
little darkened-as IL were the emhers
Of bonfire smoldering.
For the life of me | could not think
what 1t might be.
At last / came right down upon the
borders of the clearing. The western
end was already stepped in moonshine;
the rest, and the block-housc itself, still
lay in u black shadow, checkercd with
long silycry streaks Of light. On the 9TH
| er side Of the house an immense fire had
burned itself into clear embers, and
shed n steady, red rcvcrbcration, con-
trastcd strongly with the mellow pale
ness Of the moon. There was not a
soul stirring, nor n sound beside the
noises Of the breeze.
/ stopped, with much wonder in my
heart, aud perhaps n little terror also.
II had not been our way-o build great
fires; we were, indeed, by the cap
tain's orders, somewhat niggardly OF
Grcwood; and | began to fear that
something had gone wrong while !
was absent.
/ stole round by the eastern end.
keeping close in shadow, and at con
vcuicut place where the darkness was
thickest, crossed the palisade.
TO make assurance surcr, got upon
my hands and knees and crawlcd, with
out word, toward the corner OF the
house. As ] drew nearer, my heart
was suddenly and greatly liEhtcncd.
II was not IA pleasant noise in itself,
and ! had often complained OF It Mt
other times, but just then II was like
music to hear my friends snoring to.
gcther so loud aud peaceful in their
sleep. The sca-cry or the watch, that
beautiful "Alrs we'll" never fcll more
rcassuringly on my car.
In the meantime, there was no doubt