The Captain of the Kansas - Page 141/174

"You remember the poor fellow who got into trouble soon after we sailed

from Valparaiso?" she said. "His name is Frascuelo. He was wounded

again in last night's fight, but not seriously, and he and I are quite

chums. He assures me that he was drugged by a man named José Anacleto,

who took his place among the coal-trimmers--"

"Oh, Miss Maxwell, come quick!" screamed Mrs. Somerville, for Isobel

had lurched sideways out of her chair in a fainting fit, and the

missionary's wife was barely able to save her head from striking the

ship's rails.

Joey was shot out of Elsie's lap with such surprising speed that he

trotted away without any exhibition of lameness. He was quite

disgusted, for at least five minutes, but it is reasonable to suppose

that a dog of his intelligence would brighten up when he heard the

wholly unlooked-for story which Christobal was translating to

Courtenay, word for word, as it was dragged hesitatingly out of Suarez.

The Argentine miner had been badly injured during the struggle for

possession of the promenade deck. Owing to loss of consciousness,

supplemented by an awkward fall, he might have choked to death had he

not been rescued within a few minutes. He was very ill all night, and

it was not until midday that he recovered sufficient strength to enable

him to question the Indians on board.

Courtenay wished specially to find out what chance, if any, there was

of the Alaculof attack being renewed. When Christobal assured him that

Suarez might safely leave his bunk, he asked the doctor to bring the

Spaniard to the fore-cabin, in which the wounded savages lay under an

armed guard.

It was obvious that some of the maimed wretches recognized Suarez,

notwithstanding his changed appearance, the instant he spoke to them.

At once they broke out into an excited chattering, and Suarez was so

disconcerted by the tidings they conveyed that he stammered a good

deal, and seemed to flounder in giving the Spanish rendering.

"This fellow is telling us just as much as he thinks it is good for us

to know," said Courtenay, sternly, when the interpreter avoided his

accusing gaze. "Bid him out with the whole truth, Christobal, or it

shall be his pleasing task to escort his dear friends back to their

family circles."

Being detected, Suarez faltered no longer. A ship's life-boat had been

driven ashore lower down the coast. Fourteen men had landed; they were

captured by the Indians, after a useless resistance, in which three

were killed. The dead men supplied a ghoulish feast next day, and the

others were bound securely, and placed in a cave, in order to be killed

at intervals, an exact parallel to the fate of Suarez's own companions

five years earlier.

But, on this occasion, a woman intervened. Suarez confessed, very

reluctantly, that there was a girl in the tribe to whom he had taught

some words of his own language. He said that she cooked for him, and

caught fish or gathered shell-fish for their joint needs when the

larder was otherwise empty. He declared that the relations between

them were those of master and servant, but the poor creature had fallen

in love with him, and had become nearly frantic with grief when he

disappeared. It was difficult to analyze her motives, but she had

undoubtedly freed the eleven sailors, and led them over the rocks at

low water to the haunted cave on Guanaco Hill. The Indians dared not

follow; but they took good care that no canoes were obtainable in which

the unhappy fugitives could reach the ship, and they were confident

that hunger would soon drive them forth.