Part 1

BAHAMA BILL

Works of

T. JENKINS HAINS

The Windjammers $1.50 The Black Barque 1.50 The Voyage of the Arrow 1.50 Bahama Bill 1.50

L.C. PAGE & COMPANY New England Building BOSTON MASS.

BAHAMA BILL

Mate of the Wrecking Sloop _Sea-Horse_

By T. Jenkins Hains

Author of "The Black Barque," "The Voyage of the Arrow," "The Windjammers," etc.

_With a frontispiece in colour by_ H.R. Reuterdahl

_Boston_: L.C. PAGE & COMPANY _Mdccccviii_

_Copyright, 1908_ BY L.C. PAGE & COMPANY (INCORPORATED)

_All rights reserved_

First Impression, January, 1908

_COLONIAL PRESS_ _Electrotyped and Printed by C.H. Simonds & Co. Boston, U.S. A._

CONTENTS

PAGE I. BENEATH THE "BULLDOG'S" BILGE 1

II. THE WRECKER'S REWARD 18

III. THE MATE OF THE "SEA-HORSE" 35

IV. BARNEGAT MACREARY 50

V. AT THE END OF THE REEF 68

VI. THE SANCTIFIED MAN 88

VII. WHEN THE LIGHT FAILED AT CARYSFORT 116

VIII. THE TRIMMING OF MR. DUNN 129

IX. THE SURVIVOR 176

X. ON THE GREAT BAHAMA BANK 196

XI. THE ICONOCLAST 232

XII. JOURNEGAN'S GRAFT 266

XIII. SHANGHAING THE TONG 296

XIV. THE EDGE OF THE RONCADOR 323

XV. THE WRECKER 338

XVI. THE BARRATORS 350

BAHAMA BILL

I

Beneath the "Bulldog's" Bilge

The brig lay in four fathoms of water on the edge of the Great Bahama Bank. She had been a solid little vessel, built for the fruit trade, and she was about two hundred tons register. Her master had tried to sight the "Isaacs," but owing to the darkness and the drift of the Gulf Stream, he had miscalculated his distance in trying for the New Providence channel. A "nigger-head," a sharp, projecting point of coral, had poked a hole about four feet in diameter through her bottom, and she had gone down before they could run her into the shoal water on the bank.

Down to the graveyard of good ships, Key West, the message was hurried, and the wreckers of Florida Reef heard the news. A heavily built sloop of thirty tons, manned by ten Spongers and Conchs, started up the Florida channel and arrived upon the scene two days later.

The _Bulldog_ had settled evenly upon her keel, but as she was sharp, she had listed until her masts were leaning well to starboard, dipping her yardarms deep in the clear water. She was submerged as far up as her topsail yards.

The captain of the wrecker was a Conch. His mate was a giant negro of the Keys; young, powerful, and the best diver on the Florida Reef. His chest measured forty-eight inches in circumference over his lean pectoral muscles, and he often bent iron bars of one-half inch to show the set of his vise-like grip. He was almost black, with a sinister-looking leer upon his broad face, his eyes red and watery like most of the divers of the Bank. He could remain under four fathoms for at least three and a half minutes, and work with amazing force, and continue this terrific strain for six hours on a stretch, with but five minutes between dives. Half fish or alligator, and half human, he looked as he lounged naked in the hot sunshine upon the sloop's forecastle, his skin hard and callous as leather from long exposure to a tropic sun and salt water. He was ready for the work ahead, for it had been rumoured that the _Bulldog_ had not less than fifty thousand dollars in silver aboard her. She was known to have been chartered by agents of the Venezuelan revolutionists, and to have arms and money aboard in abundance for their relief.

The day was well advanced when the spars of the brig showed above the sea. The sky was cloudless, and the little air there was stirring scarcely rippled the ocean; the swell rolling with that long, undulating sweep and peculiar slowness which characterizes calm weather in the Gulf Stream.

Far away the "Isaacs" showed above the horizon, and just the slightest glint of white told of the nearest cay miles away on the Great Bank. To the westward it was a trifle more than sixty miles to Florida Cape across the channel, with the deep ocean current sweeping to the northward between. The steady set of the Stream brought the wreckers rapidly nearer the brig in spite of the calm, and they let go their first anchor about fifty fathoms due south, and veered the cable to let the sloop drift slowly down upon the wreck. Then, lowering all canvas, they got out their kedges and moored the sloop just over the port rail of the _Bulldog_ which could be distinctly seen about ten feet below the surface of the sea.

Three of the crew, all experienced divers, made ready while the mate went slowly to the rail and gazed fixedly down into the clear water. In calm weather the bottom on the Bank can be seen distinctly in five fathoms, and often at much greater depth. The weather was ideal now, and no one thought it necessary to use the "water-glass," the glass-bottomed bucket into which the diver usually sticks his head and gazes into the depths before making his plunge.

"I reckon ye might as well make a try," said the captain, coming to the mate's side. "Start here an' let the drift o' the current take ye th' whole length." And as he spoke he hove a life-line overboard for the men to grasp should the stream carry them too far. Coming to the surface they would be tired and not want to swim back. A man stood by to haul in and save the diver the exertion.

The mate raised his eyes. He looked over the smooth sea and tilted his nose into the air, sniffing the gentle breeze.

"It might be a wery good day, Cap, but I sho' smells shurk. I ain't much perticular about this smooth weather. It nearly always brings 'em along 'bout dis time o' year. De season am mighty nigh done on de Bank. Yo' knows dey is mighty peart when dey gits plentiful."

"Are you feared?" asked the captain, looking at him scornfully.

"Well, I smell him plain, an' dat's a fact," said the mate, "but here goes."

The giant mate fell slowly outboard, then putting his hands before him he dropped straight down into the sea with hardly a splash. The captain bent over the rail and watched him as he swam quickly down, his great black form looking not unlike a turtle as it struck out vigorously with both hands and feet. Down, down it went until the shimmering light made it distorted and monstrous as the distance increased. Then it disappeared under the bend of the _Bulldog's_ bilge.

A second diver came to the side and looked out over the smooth swell.

There was nothing in sight as far as the eye could reach save the glint of white on the distant cay to the eastward. The Gulf Stream was undisturbed by even a ripple.

In a couple of minutes a loud snort astern told of the mate's reappearance. He seized the life-line and was quickly hauled alongside. He climbed leisurely to the deck.

All hands were now assembled and waited for his report.

"Tight as a drum. There ain't no way o' gettin' into her there," said the mate after two or three long breaths.

"Well, will you try the hatchway, then?" asked the captain.

"I ain't perticular about workin' down hatchways," said the giant, with a scowl.

"Nor me either," said the man who had come to make the second trip. "They said the stuff was aft under the cabin deck," said a tall man with aquiline features, known as Sam.

"Dynamite," whispered another, "what's the difference?"

"Plenty, if the underwriters come along and find her blown up. She ain't ours yet," said the captain sourly.

"An' who's to tell?" asked the mate with a fierce menace. "Who'll know what knocked a hole in her? They'll nebber float her. Bust her, says I."

The captain looked about him. There was nothing in sight, save the distant cay, ten miles or more to the eastward, which might harbour an inquisitive person. And then the light-keeper himself was a wrecker. He thought a moment while the mate stood looking at him, and then went slowly down into the cabin and brought up a box of cartridges. Sam immediately brought out some exploders and several fathoms of fuse.

In a moment a large package was wrapped up and lashed with spun-yarn. It contained five half-pound cartridges and an exploder, with a fathom of fuse. A piece of iron was made fast to the whole to keep it upon the bottom, and then the mate called for a match. The fuse would burn for at least two minutes under water before the exploder was reached, and give time for the diver to get clear.

The captain scratched a light upon his trousers and held it to the fuse. A spluttering fizzing followed. Then over the side went the mate with the charge in his hand, and the men on the deck could see him swimming furiously down through the clear depths, the dynamite held before him and a thin spurt of bubbles trailing out from the end of the burning fuse.

He had little enough time to spare after he disappeared under the curve of the bilge. Coming to the surface he was quickly dragged aboard by the life-line, and then all hands waited a moment, which seemed an hour, for the shock.

A dull crash below followed by a peculiar ringing sound told of the discharge. The water lifted a moment over the spot some twenty feet astern, and then a storm of foam and bubbles surged to the surface. The captain gazed apprehensively around the horizon again, and then smiled.

"I reckon that busted her," he said.

Over the side plunged the mate, followed by two more men, and as they went a great, dark shadow rose slowly to the surface in the disturbed water. It was the body of a giant shark.

The captain stood looking at it for a moment.

"The harpoon, quick," he yelled.

A man sprang for the iron, but the monster rolled slowly over upon his belly, and opened his jaws with spasmodic jerks. A great hole was torn in his side, and his dorsal fin was missing. He gave a few quick slaps with his tail, and then sank slowly down before the harpoon could be thrown.

"He's as dead as salt-fish," said a sailor, "clean busted wide open."

"He's a tiger," said the captain, "an' they never hunt alone. I c'ud see his stripes."

A diver called from the end of the life-line and was hauled up. One after another they came up, the mate last.

"What was the thing yo' dropped overboard?" he asked with a grin. "I seen him sinking an' thought he ware alive."

"It was a tiger," said the captain solemnly, looking askance at the big man.

"That settles it fer me," said one diver, "they always go in pairs."

"Me, too," went the chorus from the rest.

The mate said nothing. He had seen something below that made his eyes flash in spite of their salty rheum. The dynamite had done its work well, and with more daring than the others he had penetrated the hull far enough to catch a glimpse of the treasure. The explosion had scattered bright silver coins about the entrance of the hole, and he had seen what they had missed in the roiled water.

Here was a sore problem for the captain. He had the first chance at the wreck without observers, and here the carcass of a huge tiger-shark had upset everything. Within a few hours, the spars of other wreckers might show above the horizon, and then farewell to treasure-hunting. He could expect nothing but salvage at the most. If the owners decided to raise her he could do nothing more than sell his claim upon her, and probably lose most of that, for he was a poor man and dreaded the Admiralty courts. It would be much better if he could get what money there was in her, finding it in an abandoned hull. Having the whole of it in his possession was much better than trying to get back from the owners his share under the salvage law. Any delay for shark-hunting meant a heavy loss. He looked askance at the big mate, but said nothing, knowing full well that it lay with that black giant whether he would take the risk of going below again or not.

"I knew I smelt him plain enough," said the giant, sniffing the air again, "dem big shurks is mighty rank."

The shark which had met with the dynamite explosion was one of a pair of the great "carcharodon" variety. They had come in on the edge of the Bank at the beginning of the warm season, and one of them had slipped up along the bottom to the wreck not a minute after the mate had placed the charge. The package had attracted his attention, and it was while nosing it the charge had exploded, tearing him almost to pieces. His mate was but fifty fathoms away, and came slowly up to examine the place where the crash occurred.

The female was about twenty feet in length. She was lean and muscular from long cruising at sea, and her hide was as hard as the toughest leather. Vertical stripes upon her sides, black upon the dark gray of her body, gave her the name of "tiger." Her jaws were a good eighteen inches across, and her six rows of triangular teeth formed the most perfect cutting machine for anything made of flesh. The long tapering tail and huge fins told of enormous power, and her heavy frontal development proclaimed her of that somewhat rare species of pelagic monster which is very different in disposition to the thousands of sharks that infest all tropical seas.

She came upon the body of her mate as he sank slowly down, shattered and torn from the explosion. He lay motionless upon the clean coral bottom, and as she nosed him she came to the grisly wounds and knew he was dead. The feeling that the floating object above was responsible for his end took possession of her instinctively. He, her mate, had travelled with her for months and over thousands of miles of ocean. There was an attachment similar to that in evidence among the higher animals, and sullen fury at her loss grew against the thing above. It was like the implacable hatred of the cobra snake for the slayer of his mate, the snake who will follow the slayer's trail for miles to wreak vengeance. And as the monster's fury was growing, the black diver was preparing to make a plunge for the money within the brig's bilge.

"Gimme a line," said the black man. "If dere is another feller like de one we busted down dere, yo' kin pull me back ef he don't git a good hold o' my laig. De water is mighty roiled yit, en I'd like to see a bit o' the bottom. 'Pears to me I seen something movin' astern dere."

The captain passed a line, and he fastened it around his waist. The rest of the crew stood looking on. Then taking a bag rolled tight in one hand to open below and fill with the silver, he gazed anxiously around the surrounding sea again.

"Here goes," said the big mate, "but I reckon it's de debble himself dat's waitin' fer me, I feels it sho'."

He went down with a straight plunge without any splash, and they watched him until he disappeared under the bends.

The mate had his eyes in use as he swam swiftly towards the hole made by the explosion. He watched the shadows upon the coral bottom in the dim light that penetrated the depths. The huge shadow of the brig cast a gloom over the white rock, and at the depth of her keel objects were hard to distinguish, except out beyond where the sunshine filtered down. He knew the location of the hole, and headed straight for it until the black and ragged mouth of the opening showed before him. He had just reached for it when a form shut off the light behind him. At the same instant the dread of something horrible flashed through his brain. He turned instantly to see the giant mouth of a monstrous shark close aboard, the teeth showing white against the dark edge of the throat cavity.

There was but a moment to spare. He must get away in the fraction of a second, and his quick mind, used to emergencies, seized upon the only way possible.

The line about his waist was still slack, and he dove headlong into the black mouth of the hole in the brig's bilge. The opening was just large enough to let him through, the splintered edges raking his back sorely as he entered. Then he turned quickly, hoping to see the monster sweep past.

The outline of the hole showed dimly, a ragged green spot set in inky blackness. He was ready to make a dash outboard, and swam to hold himself close to it, for the tendency was to rise into the black depths of the submerged hull. Inside was total darkness, and the unknown, submerged passages to some possible open hatchway beneath his own vessel's bottom were not to be thought of for safety. He could hold his breath but for a very short time longer, and he was more than twenty feet below the surface of the ocean. Even as he swam his foot struck something solid above him. He watched the hole and had just about decided that the monster had passed when the hole disappeared from view.

He knew he had not moved, for he could feel the stillness of the water about him. With a growing feeling of horror he groped for the opening.

In the total darkness he thought he was losing the instinct of direction. The danger of his position was so deadly that, in spite of his iron nerves, a panic was taking possession of him. To be lost in the hold of a sunken wreck appalled him for an instant. He must act quickly and accurately if he would live. The precious moments were passing, and his heart already was sending the blood with ringing throbs through his head. He made a reach ahead, and as he did so the greenish light of the hole in the bilge came again before him. He struck out for it powerfully. Then it failed again, but as it did so he made out the form that was closing it. The great head of the shark was thrust into the opening, withdrawn again as though to try to get a better position to force its way in, and then came total blackness.

The mate was failing fast. He had been under water more than two minutes. He saw that it was certain death to force the entrance. Outside waited the monster who would cut him to pieces before he could reach the surface and help from his vessel. It was a horrible end. The thought of a mangled form being devoured into the bowels of such a creature decided him. Any death but that. He hesitated no longer, but with maddening haste he swam upward into the blackness, groping, struggling through doors and passages, wildly, aimlessly trying for a blind chance that he might at last come through the hatchway into the sea above.

He had cast off the line to his waist as soon as it came taut, and instantly it flashed upon him that he had severed the last link between himself and his men. On and on he struggled, the bright flashes of light which now began to appear before his eyes, caused by the strain and pressure, made him fight wildly forward, thinking that they came from the light outside. He knew he was lost. The picture flitted before him of the men hauling in the line. Then the silence of the deck in the sunshine and the looks of his shipmates, the case of "lost man." He had seen it before when he was upon the deck, and now it was his turn below. A bulkhead brought him to a sudden stop. He reached upward and found the solid deck. It was no use. He gave one last gigantic stroke forward along the obstruction and started to draw in his breath, which meant the end. Then his head suddenly came out of the water into air, and his pulses leaped again into action.

The pressure was not relieved upon his lungs, and it was some moments before he recovered. Then his great strength came back to him and he began to grope about in the blackness until his feet came in contact with a step. He felt along this and found that it was evidently a companionway leading to the deck above. He put forth his hands into the space overhead and found a solid roof but a foot or less above the surface of the water he was in. Then it dawned upon him that he was beneath the coamings of the hatchway, and the air was that which had been caught under the top as the brig had settled. She had only been sunk about fifty-five hours, and the air had not found its way through the tight cover overhead. It was compressed by the pressure of the water above it. It was only about twelve feet to the surface from where he now rested, and if he could get free he might yet get away safely. The shark was probably below under the bilge, trying to get in the hole and would not notice him if he came up through the hatchway. He could make a dash for the surface, and call for a line before the monster could locate him. The air within the small space was already getting used up while he waited to recover. There were not more than half a dozen cubic feet of it altogether, and he must work quickly if he would be free.

He now groped for the fastenings of the hatchway, hoping to seize them and force the slide back. The covering was of peculiar pattern, high-domed above the coamings, and it was for this reason that the air had failed to find its way through the front of the opening. He felt for the lock and finally found that the hasp was on the outside. He was locked below.

He had been away from the sloop for more than five minutes now, and the men aboard had hauled in the line. It came fast enough, and some leaned over the rail watching until the end came into view. Then they knew, or fancied they knew, the story.

"Gone, by God," came the exclamation from the captain--"he was right--they always travel in couples--" Then he stood there with the rest, all gazing steadfastly down into the clear water of the Gulf Stream that now went past crystal-like and undisturbed. The dim forms of the coral showed below, but nothing like the shape of either man or shark was visible. The disturbed water from the blast had all gone to the northward with the current, and they wondered. If there were a monster lurking in the depths, he must be well under the brig's bilge in the deep shadow. The line told the story the eye failed to reach. It was not new, the story of a lost diver on the Bahama Bank.

They hung over the side and spoke seldom: when they did, it was in a low tone. There was nothing to do, for no one had the hardihood to make the plunge to find out what had happened. They must wait for the wrecking crew. Diving was not to be thought of again for hours.

Meanwhile the mate was below in the dome of the hatchway.

Finding that the slide was fastened on the outside, he put forth all his giant strength to force it. Planting his feet upon the after end, he managed to keep his mouth out of the water and get a grip upon the hatch-carline. Then he strained away to burst the lock.

In the little bubble of compressed air the exertion caused him to pant for breath. He must hurry. The wood creaked dully. A jet of water spurted in his face. The slide was giving way, letting in the ocean from the outside, and in another moment the remaining space of air would be gone. With one tremendous shove he tore the carline loose. Then he clutched frantically at the splintering wood, and as the water closed over him he wrenched the slide loose and drove himself blindly through the opening. The next instant he shot upward, and in a moment he saw the light above. He came to the surface under the sloop's port quarter, bursting into the sunshine with a loud splash.

The captain heard the noise and hurried over to look. The mate's black head was just a fathom below him, and he quickly dropped him a line. Then willing hands reached over and he was dragged on deck. He had been below nearly a quarter of an hour.