Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1915-11-30
CHAPTER XII.
The Jungle Toll.

new Qay, as the ldSl VI ySSlSiuoS' "S''
of the wonderful writing which lay
hidden in his quiver.
Hurriedly he brought it forth, hop
ing against hope that he could reao
what the beautiful white girl had writ
ten there the preceding evening.
At the first glance he suffered the
bitterest disappointment Of his whole
life. He was baffied by strange, un'
couth characters the like Of which he
had never seen before! Why, they
even tipped in the opposite direction
from all that he had ever examined
either in printed books or the difficult
script Of the few letters he had found
For twenty minutes he pored ovel
them, when suddenly they commenced
to take familiar, though distorted
shapes. All, they were his old frineds
but badly crippled!
Then he began to make out word
here and a word there. His heart
leaped for joy. He could read it, and
he would.
In another half hour he was pro-
crossing rapidly, and, but for an ex.
ceptional word now and again he
found it very plain sailing.
Here is what he read:
West coast of Africa, about 10 degrees
south latitude. $50 Mr.. Clayton says.
February 8 CD 1909.
Dearest Hazel-It seems foolish tc
write you letter that you may never
see, but 1 simply must tell somebody
of our awful experiences since we
sailed from Europe on the i'll fated
Arrow.
If we never return to civilization
as now seems only too likely, this will
at least prove a brief record of the
events which led up to our fate, what
ever it may be.
AS you know, we were supposed to
have set out upon a scientific expedi-
tion to the Kongo. Papa was presum-
ed to entertain some wondrous theory
of an unthinkable ancient civilization
the remains of which lay buried some
where in the Kongo valley. But after
we were we'll under sail the truth
came out.
1t seems that an old bookworm who
has book and curio shop in Balti-
more discovered between the leaves
of a very old Spanish manuscript a
letter written in 1850, detailing the
adventures of a crew Of mutineers OF
a Spanish galleon bound from Spain
to South America with a vast treas
ure of "doublooms' and "pieces OF
eight" 1 suppose for they certainly
sound weird and piraty.
The writer had been one of the
crew, and the letter was to his SON
who was at the time the letter was
written master of Spanish mer-
chantman.
Many years have elapsed since the
events the letter narrated had trans
pired, and the old man had become
a respected citizen of an obscure
Spanish town, but the love Of gold
was still so strong upon him that he
risked all to acquaint his son with the
means of attaining fabulous wealth
for them both.
The writer told how, when but
week out from Spain the crew had
mutinied and murdered every officer
and man who opposed them. They de-
feated their own ends by this very
act, for there was none left competent
to navigate a ship at sea.
They were blown hither and thithel
for two months until, sick and dying
of scurvy, starvation and thirst, they
had been wrecked on small islet.
The galleon was washed high upor
the beach, where she went to pieces
but not before the survivors, who
numbered but ten souls, had rescued
one of the great chests of treasure.
This they buried we'll upon the is
land, and for three years they livec
there in constant hope of being res
cued.
One by one they sickened and dice
until only one man was left, the writ
er of the letter.
The men had built boat from the
wreckage of the galleon; but, having
no idea where the island was located
they had not dared to put to sea.
When all were dead except himself
however, the awful loneliness 81
weighed upon the mind of the sole
survivor that he could endure 1t nC
longer, and, choosing to risk deatf
upon the open sea rather than mad
ness on the lonely isle, he set sail II
his little boat after nearly year Of
solitude.
Fortunately he sailed due north ant
within a week was in the track of the
Spanish merchantmen plying between
the West Indies and Spain and wa:
picked up by one Of these vessels
homeward bound.
The story he told was merely one
of shipwreck in which all but few
had perished, the balance, except him
self, dying after they reached the is
land. He did not mention the mutiny
or the chest of buried treasure.
The master of the merchantmen as
sured him that from the position al
which they picked him up and the
prevailing winds for the past week he
could have been on no other island
than one of the Cape Verde group
which lie off the west coast of Africa
in about 16 degrees of II degree:
north latitude.
His letter described the islant
minutely. as we'll as the location OF
the treasure, and was accompanied
by the crudest, funniest little old maj
you ever saw, with trees and rocks al
marked by scrawly KS to show the
exact spot where the treasure hat
been buried.
When papa explained the rea
nature of the expedition my hear
sank, for l know so well how vision
airy and impractical the poor dear ha:
always been that feared that he hat
again been duped, especially when III