Part 44 (1/2)

That was smoke, certainly, but not the smoke of the fire, that he could smell, for it was plainly enough the familiar strong plug Cavendish tobacco which the men cut up small and rubbed finer between their h.o.r.n.y palms before thrusting it into their pipes.

That explained all, no doubt. The flies had been attacking them in spite of the wood-smoke, and they had crept away to get under the boughs of the big tree to try what the stronger fumes of tobacco would do in the way of keeping off the noxious stinging insects.

”And no wonder,” he said to himself; as he bent down to lay his hand upon his tingling ankle. ”Poor fellows! They--”

Brace started upright again, and was in the act of taking a step to reach the running water, when a voice sounded louder from among the whisperers, and in the intense silence of the night he plainly heard the words:

”Not a foot furder do I go, mates, and leave that gold.”

There was silence for a few moments, and then a voice said:

”You can do as you like, my lads: here I am, and here I stays till I've made my pile.”

”That was Jem's voice,” thought Brace; and then he listened again intently.

”What about the skipper?” said a voice.

”Skipper'll have to put up with it,” said another of the men. ”I like the skipper, and I haven't a word to say about the two mates. I like Mas' Dellow as well as I like Mas' Lynton, and t'other way on; but gold aren't silver, messmates, and what we might do over a s.h.i.+lling's a diffrun thing to what a man feels boun' to do over a pound. Here we are with the gold lying in shovelfuls among the sand o' this here river, plenty for all on us to make our fortuns, and I says it would be a sin and a shame to leave it behind to go shooting red and yaller and blue c.o.c.k robins and jenny wrens to get their skins. There, that's the longest speech I ever made in my life, but it had to be done. So I says I'm your side, messmate Jemmy, and my name's gold.”

There was a low murmur here, and Jem spoke again:

”Anyone else got a word to say?”

”Yes, I have,” said a fresh voice. ”I'm with you, Jemmy, my lad, and there's my hand on it; but there's some'at in the way.”

”What's that?” growled Jem.

”What about the Yankee chap as found the gold, and Sir Humphrey and Master Brace?”

”What about 'em?” said Jem, while Brace's ears tingled.

”On'y this, messmates. They've took the 'Jason' and paid for her for as long as they like. S'pose they say we shan't stop gold-digging and tells us to go on?”

”We must tell 'em we won't leave the gold, and that they must stop and dig and wash, and go shares with us.”

”Tchah! they won't. Chaps like they, who can hire brigs and skippers and crews, are chock full o' money. They'd on'y laugh at us, for they'd rather have a noo kind o' b.u.t.terfly than a handful o' gold,” continued the speaker. ”Suppose they says we shall go on?”

”Then we tells 'em we won't, and there's an end on it.”

”But the skipper won't pay us for breaking our bargain.”

”Well, what's a few months' pay to men who've got their sea chesties chock full o' gold?”

”That's true enough, messmate, but s'pose they turns nasty and picks up their guns. They're wunners to shoot.”

”They dursen't,” said Jem scornfully. ”It would be murder. Finding gold like this upsets everything else. We don't mean them no harm: all they've got to do is to jyne in and share, for not a yard further do we go, messmates, till we've got to the bottom of that gold.”

”Then they'll sail without us.”

”No, they won't,” said Jem meaningly; ”for we shall want that there brig to take us back with all our gold.”