The Pirate Story Megapack. R.M. Ballantyne

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СКАЧАТЬ showed me that this old hull must be at least a couple of hundred years old; and I took it for one of the old French or English ships that had been wrecked here in the early days of American colonization. I accounted for its position so far inland in the easiest manner in the world. The fact is, this whole island is all the time shifting and changing. I don’t believe it is in the least like what it used to be. When this ship got here, I believe this was a shoal where she drove ashore in some tremendous gale, and was soon covered up with sand. Gradually the sand gathered about her more and more, and the island changed its shape, and the shoal rose above the water, till at last this place became the middle of the island. Two or three hundred years from this, I dare say there’ll be miles of land away off there to the north, all along, and this’ll be considered the South Shore.”

      “But didn’t you find anything aboard of her?” asked Bart, in eager curiosity.

      “Well, that was the very first thing I thought of. This old-fashioned ship reminded me of the Spanish galleons that used to take cargoes of gold and silver across the water, and I was full of the idea that there might be some immense treasure still on board. The sand had preserved the wood from decay, and gold was still more likely to be preserved. So I hurried back at once, and got a shovel, and came here alone. I cleared out the whole cabin there that day, and to my deep disappointment, I found not one single thing. I found it, in fact, just as you see it now—completely cleaned out by the waves. Everything had gone, except the timbers and some of the deck work. Doors had been torn off, and the whole front of the quarterdeck had been forced away. There were no movables of any kind, nothing, in fact, except those beams and planks, that had been strong enough to resist the fury of the waves.

      “I went back that day in deep disappointment, and gave up all hope of finding anything. On the following day I called all hands together, and we all came here to examine the hull. We worked for about a week, and dug out most of the sand,—it’s all back again, though, you see,—and in other places we thrust in poles to see if anything was there. We found nothing, however; no gold or silver, no precious stones; nothing, in fact, but a rusty, demoralized, and depraved old cannon, that looked as though it had been cast for the Spanish Armada. The old piece is over there in the house, preserved as a curiosity.”

      “And so you didn’t get anything?” said Bruce, in a tone of disappointment.

      “Not a thing, except the cannon,” said the governor; “and I leave you to imagine my disappointment. I was at first sure of making my fortune, retiring from the island at once, and going home to live on my wealth. But I’m afraid I shall have to postpone that for a long time.”

      “Do you suppose there ever was any treasure on board of her?” asked Arthur.

      “Well, yes. I not only suppose so, but I almost feel certain that at one time there was a good deal of gold and silver aboard of this very ship. I’ve examined her, and studied her very attentively. Look at her now for yourselves. Notice how high that stern is. I don’t think those high sterns were used later than the days of Queen Elizabeth. It was in just such ships as this that the Spaniards brought their gold and silver across the water. In fact, boys, I believe that this is neither more nor less than a Spanish galleon. Believe? in fact I know it. For on that old gun that I spoke of, there is a cast that’s precisely the same that you see on the old Spanish dollars—the arms of Spain.

      “Now I’ll tell you what the idea is that I’ve formed about this ship. You know that in the days of Elizabeth the Spanish Main swarmed with buccaneers, who seized the treasure ships whenever they could. Among these, English sailors were the worst. You know that well enough. Well, my idea is, that some of these buccaneers seized this very galleon, plundered her of everything, and let her go. I don’t think that a Spanish ship would have been likely to be driven up here from the West Indies, or to drift here. I think it most likely that she was seized and brought here.”

      “But perhaps,” said Bart, “the buccaneers were lost in her.”

      “It’s possible, certainly,” said the governor, “but I don’t quite think it. I think, if there had been any gold left, some of it would have been left hereabouts in the hull. No. I think it most likely that she has been plundered by the buccaneers, who then let her go,—for a big, clumsy ship, like this, was no good for their purposes. They may have let the Spanish sailors go in her,—not unlikely; and if so, the poor wretches left their bones in these sands.”

      “But what would buccaneers come here for?” asked Bart,—”so far to the north. I thought they all lived around the Spanish Main.”

      “Ah,” said the governor, “that brings up the very point that proves my whole theory.”

      CHAPTER IV.

      “You must be aware, in the first place,” said the governor, “that over the whole Atlantic coast of Nova Scotia there are traditions of the buccaneers. There is one place, however, where these traditions seem to have a centre, and that is Mahone Bay. The people there have handed these traditions on from father to son ever since the country was settled; and the belief at this time, is as strong as ever, if not stronger. The only change that they have made is in the name. They do not speak of the buccaneers but of one certain man, whose name all over America seems to have lent itself to every tradition that the past has handed down about pirates and piracy. This is Captain Kidd. So at Mahone Bay the traditions all refer to him.

      “Now I don’t believe that these traditions originated in nothing, but that they grew out of actual facts. The buccaneers, when they infested the Spanish Main, needed some place in which to store their plunder. They wanted a place which was at once safe from pursuit, and so remote that the Spaniards would never think of following them. Well, this they could gain by sailing far enough to the north, and Nova Scotia naturally seemed the best stopping-place; first, because it seemed to them like the last point of the coast of the main land, and secondly, because it was convenient for a run over to Europe. Besides, Nova Scotia afforded a greater number of first-rate harbors than could be found in any part, not only of America, but of the world. It was therefore out of the way of pursuit and discovery, and the best place that they could wish to have.

      “Well, now, among all the harbors that line the coast of Nova Scotia, there isn’t any that can be compared to Mahone Bay for the purposes of the buccaneers. Once in it, and discovery or capture is next to impossible. The bay is spacious and deep, without shoals or currents, and, above all, dotted with three hundred and sixty-five islands of every sort and size. Among these a hiding-place could be found, that for safety and seclusion could not be equalled anywhere else. And what are the facts? Why, the tradition of the country ever since asserts that this very bay was a chosen haunt of pirates in the old piratical days.

      “And what’s more,” continued the governor, “this tradition isn’t vague and general, but it’s direct and specific. It points to some one place there,—one of those islands in particular that is distinguished from all the other islands. I don’t know the name of it; I don’t know that I ever heard it; but I do know that there is such an island,—one of those three hundred and sixty-five, that is pointed out and well known as the place frequented by the buccaneers. Everybody says, that on this island they lived, and that in this island, deep down,—under the level of the sea, in fact,—the buccaneers buried the plunder of the Spanish Main.

      “Of course, as I said, they don’t speak of the buccaneers, but of Captain Kidd. They call it Kidd’s treasure. But it’s all the same. The fact remains whatever changes mere names may undergo. Now, mind you, I don’t say that there’s any treasure there now,—it may have been all dug up by the very men who buried it, or by others who knew about it. It’s a long time since it was buried, and Mahone Bay had no settlements for generations. At the same time it’s quite probable that it may be there still; and I, for my part, shouldn’t be a bit surprised to hear at any time that some lucky fellow has СКАЧАТЬ