Daughter of the Sun, Page 3

  CHAPTER III

  OF THE NEW MOON, A TALE OF AZTEC TREASURE AND A MYSTERY

  On board the schooner _New Moon_ standing crazily out to sea, withfirst port of call a nameless, cliff-sheltered sand beach which in hisheart he christened from afar Port Adventure, Jim Kendric was richlycontent. With huge satisfaction he looked upon the sparkling sea, thelittle vessel which _scooned_ across it, his traveling mate, the bignegro and the half-wit Philippine cabin boy. If anything desirablelacked Kendric could not put the name to it.

  Few days had been lost getting under way. He had gone straight up toLos Angeles where he had sold his oil shares. They brought himtwenty-three hundred dollars and he knocked them down merrily. Nowwith every step forward his lively interest increased. He bought therifles and ammunition, shipping them down to Barlow in San Diego. Andupon him fell the duty and delight of provisioning for the cruise. AsBarlow had put it, the Lord alone knew how long they would be gone, andJim Kendric meant to take no unnecessary chances. No doubt they couldget fish and some game in that land toward which their imaginingsalready had set full sail, but ham by the stack and bacon by the yardand countless tins of fruit and vegetables made a fair ballast.Kendric spent lavishly and at the end was highly satisfied with theresult.

  As the _New Moon_ staggered out to sea under an offshore blow, he andTwisty Barlow foregathered in the cabin over the solitary luckilysmuggled bottle of champagne.

  "The day is auspicious," said Kendric, his rumpled hair on end, hiseyes as bright as the dancing water slapping against their hull. "Witha hold full of the best in the land, treasure ahead of our bow, humdrumlost in our wake and a seven-foot nigger hanging on to the wheel, whatmore could a man ask?"

  "It's a cinch," agreed Barlow. But, drinking more slowly, he wasaltogether more thoughtful. "If we get there on time," was his oneworry. "If we'd had that ten thousand of yours we'd never have sailedin this antedeluvian raft with a list to starboard like the tower ofPisa."

  "Don't growl at the hand that feeds you or the bottom that floats you,"grinned Kendric. "It's bad luck."

  Nor was Barlow the man to find fault, regret fleetingly though he did.He was in luck to get his hands on any craft and he knew it. The _NewMoon_ was an unlovely affair with a bad name among seamen who knew herand no speed or up-to-date engines to brag about; but Barlow himselfhad leased her and had no doubts of her seaworthiness. She was one ofthose floating relics of another epoch in shipbuilding which hadlingered on until today, undergoing infrequent alterations under manyhands. While once she had depended entirely for her headway on her twopoles, fore sail set flying, now she lurched ahead answering to thedrive of her antiquated internal combustion motor. An essential partof her were Nigger Ben and Philippine Charlie; they knew her and herfreakish ways; they were as much a portion of her lop-sided anatomy aswere propeller and wheel.

  Barlow chuckled as he explained the unwritten terms of his lease.

  "Hank Sparley owns her," he said, "and the day Hank paid real money forher is the first day the other man ever got up earlier than Hank, youcan gamble on it. Now Hank gets busy gettin' square and he's somehowgot her insured for more'n she'll bring in the open market in many aday. Hank figures this deal either of two ways; either I run her noseinto the San Diego slip again with a fat fee for him; or else it's DavyJones for the _New Moon_ and Hank quits with the insurance money."

  "Know what barratry is, don't you?" demanded Kendric.

  "Sure I know; if I didn't Hank would have told me." Barlow sipped hischampagne pleasantly. "But we'll bring her home, never you fret,Headlong. And we'll pay the fee and live like lords on top of it.Hank ain't frettin'. I spun him the yarn, seein' I had to, and he'd ofcome along himself if he hadn't been sick. Which would have meant athree way split and I'm just as glad he didn't."

  Kendric went out on deck and leaned against the wind and watched thewater slip away as the schooner rose and settled and fought ahead.Then he strolled to the stern and took a turn at the wheel, joying inthe grip of it after a long separation from the old life which itbrought surging back into his memory. And while he reaccustomedhimself to the work Nigger Ben stood by, watching him jealously and atfirst with obvious suspicion.

  Nigger Ben, as Kendric had intimated, was a man to be proud of on acruise like this one. If not seven feet tall, at least he had passedthe half-way mark between that and six, a hulking, full-blooded Africanwith monster shoulders and half-naked chest and a skull showing underhis close-cropped kinks like a gorilla's. He was an anomaly, alltaken: he had a voice as high and sweet-toned as a woman singer's; hehad an air of extreme brutality and with the animals on board, a shipcat and a canary belonging to Philippine Charlie he was all gentleness;he had by all odds the largest, flattest feet that Kendric had everseen attached to a man and yet on them he moved quickly and lightly andnot without grace; he held the _New Moon_ in a sort of ghostly fear,his eyes all whites when he vowed she was "ha'nted," and yet he lovedher with all of the heart in his big black body.

  "Sho', she's ha'nted!" he proclaimed vigorously after a while duringwhich he had come to have confidence in the new steersman's knowledgeand had been intrigued into conversation. "Don't I know? Black folksknows sooner'n white folks about ha'nts, Cap'n. Ain't I heered all thehappenin's dat's done been an' gone an' transcribed on dis here deck?Ain't I _seen_ nothin'? Ain't I _felt_ nothin'? Ain't I spectatedwhen the ha'r on Jezebel's back haz riz straight up an' when she'shunched her back up an' spit when mos' folks wouldn't of saw nothin'a-tall? Sho', she's ha'nted; mos' ships is. But dem ha'nts ain' goin'bodder me so long's I don't bodder dem. Dat's gospel, Cap'n Jim; sho'gospel."

  "It's a hand-picked crew, Twisty," conceded Kendric mirthfully whenNigger Ben was again at the wheel and the two adventurers pacedforward. "The kind to have at hand on a pirate cruise!"

  For Nigger Ben offered both amusement during long hours and skilfulservice and no end of muscular strength, while, in his own way, Charliewas a jewel. A king of cooks and a man to keep his mouth shut. Whenleft to himself Charlie muttered incessantly under his breath, hismutterings senseless jargon. When addressed his invariable reply was,"Aw," properly inflected to suit the occasion. Thus, with a shake ofthe head, it meant no; with a nod, yes; with his beaming smile,anything duly enthusiastic. He was not the one to be looked to fortreasons, stratagems and spoils. His favorite diversion was whistlingsacred tunes to his canary in the galley.

  As the _New Moon_ made her brief arc to clear the coast and saggedsouth through tranquil southern days and starry nights, Kendric andBarlow did much planning and voiced countless surmises, all having todo with what they might or might not find. Barlow got out his maps andindicated as closely as he could the point where they would land, theother point some miles inland where the treasure was.

  "Wild land," he said. "Wild, Jim, every foot of it. I've seen whatlies north of it and I've seen what lies south of it, and it's thedevil's own. And ours, if Escobar's fingers haven't crooked to thefeel of it. And if they have, why, then," and he looked fleetingly tothe rifles on the cabin wall, "it belongs to the man who is man enoughto walk away with it!"

  More in detail than at any time before Twisty Barlow told all that heknew of the rumor which they were running down. Escobar was one of thelawless captains of a revolutionary faction who, like his general, hadbeen keeping to the mountainous out-of-the-way places of Mexico for twoyears. In Lower California, together with half a dozen of his banditfollowing, he had been taking care of his own skin and at the same timelining his own pockets. It was a time of outlawry and Fernando Escobarwas a product of his time. He was never above cutting throats forsmall recompense, if he glimpsed safety to follow the deed, and knewall of the tricks of holding wealthy citizens of his own or anothercountry for ransoms. Upon one of his recent excursions the banditcaptain had raided an old mission church for its candlesticks. Withone companion, a lieutenant named Juarez, he had made so thorough a jobof tearing things to pieces that the two had discovered a s
ecret whichhad lain hidden from the passing eyes of worshipful padres for a matterof centuries. It was a secret vault in the adobe wall, masked by acanvas of the Virgin. And in the small compartment were not only a fewminor articles which Escobar knew how to turn into money, but somepapers. And whenever a bandit, of any land under the sun, stumblesupon papers secretly immured, it is inevitable that he should hastilymake himself master of the contents, stirred by a hope of treasure.

  "And right enough, he'd found it," said Barlow holding a forgottenmatch over his pipe. "If there's any truth in it three priests, wayback in the fifteen hundreds, stumbled onto enough pagan swag to make aman cry to think about it. Held it accursed, I guess. And didn't needit just then in their business, any way. Just what is it? I don'tknow. Juarez himself didn't know; Captain Escobar let him get just sofar and decided to hog the whole thing and slipped six inches of knifeinto him. How the poor devil lived to morning, I don't know and Idon't care to think about it. But live he did and spilled me the yarn,praying to God every other gasp that I'd beat Fernando Escobar to it.He said he had seen names there to set any man dreaming; the name ofMontezuma and Guatomotzin; of Cortes and others. He figured that therewas Aztec gold in it; that the three old priests had somehow tumbled onto the hiding place; that they three planned to keep the knowledgeamong themselves and, when they devoutly judged the time was right, topass the news on to the Church in Spain.

  "I wish Juarez had had time to read the whole works," meditated Barlow."Anyway he read enough and guessed enough on top of it for me to guessmost of the rest while I've been millin' around, getting goin'. Two ofthe three priests died in a hurry at about the same time, leavin' theother priest the one man in on the know. There was some sort of aplague got 'em; he was scared it was gettin' him, too. So he starts inmakin' a long report to the home church, which if he had finished wouldhave been as long as your arm and would of been packed off to Spain andthat would of been the last you and me ever heard of it. But it lookslike, when he'd written as far as he got, he maybe felt rotten and putit away, intendin' to finish the job the next day. And the plague,smallpox or whatever it was, finished him first."

  "Fishy enough, by the sound of it, isn't it?" mused Kendric.

  "Fishy, your hat! There's folks would say fishy to a man thatstampeded in sayin' he'd found a gold mine. Me, while they guyed him,I'd go take a look-see. And it didn't read fishy to Juarez and itdidn't to Fernando Escobar, else why the six inches of knife?"

  "Well," said Kendric, "we'll know soon enough. If you can find yourway to the place all right?"

  "Juarez had a noodle on him," grunted Barlow. "And he was as full ofhate as a tick of dog's blood. From the steer he gave me I can findthe place all right."

  Days and nights went by monotonously, routine merely varying to giveplace to pipe-in-mouth idleness. But the third night out came anoccurrence to break the placidity of the voyage for Kendric, and bothto startle him and set him puzzling. He was out on deck in a steamerchair which he had had the lazy forethought to bring, his feet cockedup on the rail, his eyes on the vague expanse about him. There was nomoon; the sky was starlit. Barlow had said "Good night" half an hourbefore; Philippine Charlie was muttering over the wheel; Nigger Ben'svoice was crooning from the galley where he was making a friendly callon the canary. The water slipped and slapped and splashed alongside,making pleasant music in the ears of a man who gave free rein to hisfancies and let them soar across a handful of centuries, back into thegolden day of the last of the Aztec Emperors. The Montezumas _had_ hadvast hoards of gold in nuggets and dust and hammered ornaments andvessels; history vouched for that. And it stood to reason that theprinces and nobles, fearing the ultimate result of the might of theSpaniards, would have taken steps to secrete some of their treasurebefore the end came. Why not somewhere in Lower California, hurriedaway by caravan and canoe to a stronghold far from doomed Mexico City?

  He was conscious now of no step upon the deck, no sound to mar thepresent serene fitness of things. But out of his dreamings he wasdrawn back abruptly to the swaying, swinging deck of a crazy schoonerby the odd, vague feeling that he was not alone.

  "Barlow," he called quietly. "That you?"

  There was no answer and yet, stronger than before, was the certaintythat someone was near at hand, that a pair of eyes were regarding himthrough the obscurity of the night. So strong was the emotion, and sostrongly did it recall the emotion of a few nights ago when he had feltthe influence of a strange woman's eyes, that he leaped to his feet.On the instant he half expected to see Zoraida Castelmar standing athis elbow.

  What he saw, or thought that he saw, was a vague figure standingagainst the rail across the deck from him, beyond the corner of thecabin wall. A luminous pair of eyes, glowing through the dark.Kendric was across the deck in a flash. No one was there. He racedsternward, whisked around the pile of freight cluttered about the mast,tripped over a coil of rope and ran forward again. When he still foundno one, so strong was the impression made on him that someone had beenstanding looking at him, he made a stubborn search from prow to stern.Barlow was in bed and looked to be asleep; the Philippine was mutteringover the wheel and when Kendric demanded to know if he had seenanything said, "Aw," negatively; Nigger Ben had given over singing andwas feeding the canary and freshening its water supply.

  Afterwards Kendric realized that all the time while he was racing madlyup and down, peering into cabin and galley and nook and corner, therehad been a clear image standing uppermost in his mind; the picture ofZoraida Castelmar as she had stood and looked at him when she had said,"I have put a charm and a spell over your life." Now he simply knewthat he had the mad thought that she was somewhere on board and that,hide as she would, he would find her. But when he gave up and wentsullenly back to his toppled chair, he knew that all he had succeededin was in making both Nigger Ben and Philippine Charlie marvel. NiggerBen, he thought sullenly, had come close enough to understandingsomething of what was in his mind. For the giant African rolled hiseyes whitely and said:

  "Ha'nts, Cap'n Jim? You been seein' ha'nts, too?"

  "What makes you say that, Ben?" demanded Kendric. "Did you seeanything?"

  Nigger Ben looked fairly inflated with mysterious wisdom. But, thoughtKendric, what negro who ever lived would have denied having seensomething ghostly? Kendric had searched thoroughly high and low; hehad turned over big crates below deck, he had peered up the masts.Now, before settling himself back in his chair, he looked in on Barlowagain. Twisty was turning over; his eyes were open.

  "I don't want any funny business," said Kendric sternly. "Did yousmuggle Zoraida Castelmar on board?"

  Barlow blinked at him.

  "Who the blazes is Zoraida Castelmar?" he countered. "The cat or thecanary?"

  Kendric grunted and went out, plumping himself down in his chair. Hesupposed that he had imagined the whole thing. He had not seenanything definitely; he had merely felt that eyes were watching him;what had seemed a figure across deck might have been the oil coathanging on a peg or a curtain blowing out of a window. The more hethought over the matter the more assured was he that he had allowed hisimaginings to make a fool of him. And by the time the sun flooded thedecks next morning he was ready to forget the episode.

  They rounded San Lucas one morning, turned north into the gulf andsteered into La Paz where Barlow said he hoped to get a line on Escobarand where they allowed custom officials an opportunity to assurethemselves that no contraband in the way of much dreaded rifles andammunition were being carried into restive Sonora. "Loco Gringoes outafter burro deer," was how the officials were led to judge them.Barlow, gone several hours, reported that Escobar had not turned up atthe waterfront dives to which, according to the murdered Juarez, hereported now and then to keep in touch with his outlaw commander.Steering out again through the fishing craft and harbor boats, theypounded the _New Moon_ on toward Port Adventure.

  Then came at last the night when Barlow, looking hard mouthed andeage
r, announced that in a few hours they would drop anchor and goashore to see what they would see. Nigger Ben and Philippine Charliewere instructed gravely. They were to remain on board and were tomaintain a suspicious reserve toward all strangers, denying themfoothold on deck.

  "The gents who'd be apt to make you a call," Barlow told themimpressively, "would cut your throats for a side of bacon. You boyskeep watches day and night. When we get back into San Diego Bay, ifyou do your duties, you both get fifty dollars on top of your wages."

  It was shortly before they hoisted the anchor overboard to wait fordawn that for the second time Kendric felt again that oddly disturbingsense of hidden eyes spying at him. Again he was alone, standingforward, peering into the darkness, trying to make some sort of detailout of the black wall ahead which Barlow had told him was a long lineof cliff. As before Charlie was at the wheel while Nigger Ben waslistening to instructions from Barlow aft of the cabin. The voicescame faint against the gulf wind to Kendric. The words he did not hearsince all of his mental force was bent to determine what it was thatgave him that uncanny feeling of eyes, the eyes of Zoraida Castelmar,in the dark.

  This time he was guarded in his actions. He stood still a moment, hisjaw set, only his eyes turning to right and left. As he had askedhimself countless times already so now did he put the question again:"How could a man feel a thing like that?" At his age was he developingnerves and insane fancies? At any rate the sensation was strong,compelling. Making no sound, he turned and stared into the darkness onall sides. He saw no one.

  Suddenly, startling him so that his taut muscles jumped involuntarily,came an excited shout from Nigger Ben.

  "Ha'nts, Cap'n Barlow! Oh, my Gawd, save me now! Looky dar! Lookydar! It's a lady g-g-ghost! Oh, my Gawd, save me now!"

  Kendric ran back. Nigger Ben was clutching wildly at Barlow's arm.

  "You superstitious old fool," growled Barlow. "It's only that piece oftorn sail flappin' that Charlie was goin' to sew. Can't you see? Ithought you weren't afraid of the _New Moon's_ ha'nts, any way."

  Nigger Ben shifted his big feet uneasily and little by little creptforward to look at the flapping bit of sail cloth. Slowly his couragereturned to him. He hadn't been afraid at all, he declared, but justsort of shook up, seeing the thing all of a sudden that way. Kendricpassed on as though nothing had happened, as he reasoned perhapsnothing had. But just the same he made his second quiet search, in theend finding nothing. But as he went back to his place up deck heturned the matter over and over in mind stubbornly. Coincidences wereall right enough, but reasonable explanations lay back of them. If aman could only see just where the explanation lay.

  He sought to reason logically; if in truth someone had been standinglooking at him, if Nigger Ben had seen something other than theflapping canvas, then that someone or something had gone aboard the_New Moon_ at San Diego and had made the entire cruise with them. Thatcould hardly have been done without Barlow's knowledge. Two pointsstruck him then. First, Barlow had demanded who Zoraida Castelmar was;had not Barlow even learned the name of the girl of the pearls?Second, it recurred to him that Barlow had followed her to the hotel inthe border town, had even had word with her, since he had broughtKendric a message. Why had Barlow gone to the hotel at all? Hisexplanation at the time had been reasonable enough; he had said that hehad gone to get a room. But now Kendric remembered how Barlow, on thatsame night, had expressed his determination to be riding by moonrise!What would he have done with a hotel room?

  But slowly the dawn was coming, the ragged shore was revealing itself,Barlow was calling for help with the small boat. Kendric shrugged hisshoulders and kept his mouth shut.