Frederick Whishaw - Clutterbuck's Treasure

Under the circumstances, both Henderson and I thought that it would be wise to waste no time at all at Cape Town. We would buy horses and spades, and be off without delay, taking the train as far as it would carry us in the required direction, and acting generally as though my suspicions as to the identity of the second-class passengers were actually verified.

But all our good intentions to frustrate the guile of those who thought to get the better of us by superior cunning were nipped in the bud by an unforeseen and very unfortunate occurrence.

Our propeller went wrong, and it was found necessary to put into port at the Canary Islands in order to repair the damage, which the captain hoped would be effected in a day, but which actually occupied two days. A strong south-east wind happened to be blowing, and this rendered the harbour at Las Palmas unsafe; we were therefore obliged to lie in the protected waterway between the islands Graciosa and Lanzarote, a very fine anchorage of one mile in width, the former of these islands being uninhabited (excepting by seagulls and other fowl), while Lanzarote can boast of a small population.

Jack Henderson and I, together with many of the other passengers, landed on the second day to stretch our legs, some visiting Lanzarote, while we and a few others chose Graciosa. Captain Eversley impressed upon all who went ashore that it was absolutely necessary to be on board by seven in the evening, as at that hour the Chepstow Castle must sail, whether all were aboard or not. Since we had not the slightest intention of remaining ashore so long as this, however, we allowed the captain's warning to be adopted and digested by those to whose intended proceedings it might be applicable. As for ourselves, we started with our shot guns for a walk along the rocky beach.

It was a fine day, and the walk was pleasant enough after the protracted confinement aboard ship, and Jack and I felt buoyant and happy as we trudged along the sand and shingle at the foot of some fine cliffs that frowned down upon us from the shore side, banging our guns off at every winged creature that would give us a chance at anything like shooting distance, and laughing and singing after the fashion of schoolboys let loose. The head steward had provided us with sandwiches, and these we consumed as we lay sprawling in the sunshine on the sand, having walked and scrambled a mile or two over very rough "going," and intending after lunch and a rest to turn and go back to our ship.

We had heard a few shots now and again from the top of the cliff, and had agreed that the same idea must have occurred to others of the passengers besides ourselves—namely, to employ some of their spare time and work off some of their energy in banging at the sea-birds that circled and flitted about the rocks in hundreds; but beyond congratulating ourselves upon the fact that we were well below the line of fire, and not likely to be hit by a stray shot, we had not paid much attention to the cannonading of our neighbours. I believe I had fallen asleep. It was warm, sleepy weather, and the sand couch we lay upon, with our backs to a rock, was very comfortable. Suddenly Jack seized my arm and shook me.

"Good Heavens, Godfrey!" he said, "look out, old man; did you hear that last shot? It was ball, I'm certain, and the bullet struck this rock—there's the mark, see! Somebody had a shot at us. Slip behind, quick!"

Wide awake now, I slipped behind the rock in a moment, Jack doing the same; and we were only just in time, it appeared, for at the same instant a second shot was fired and a splinter flew from the rock close to the spot which we had occupied.

"Shout out at them that there are people here!" I said. "They must be firing at a mark!"

"Firing at a grandmother!" laughed Jack; " we were the mark, man. Wait a bit, look here, I'll show you!"

Jack adopted an old device: he took his cap, and placing it at the end of the muzzle of his gun, held it up over the top of the rock behind which we cowered, as though someone had popped out his head to look abroad. Instantly a third shot whizzed past our sanctuary.

"There," said Henderson; "that's James Strong, or his brother, or the other rascal!"

"Oh, impossible!" I said. "No fellow could be so base as to attempt to murder us in cold blood. Besides, we are not even certain whether they were on board."

"Well, you may take it from this moment that they were !" said Jack, laughing; "they have sent in their cards. Now let's think what's best to be done. We can't go back along the sands because we shall be within shot pretty nearly all the way. We must make a bolt for the cliff, get under its shelter, and either storm their position or hide there until they are gone."

"What! and miss the steamer?" I said, "we can't afford to do that, Jack!"

"Can we better afford to get ourselves knocked down like cocoanuts at a fair?" asked Henderson pertinently. "We shall have to make a bolt for the cliffs; when there we'll try to climb the rocks so stealthily that we surprise the enemy and fall upon him unawares."

This seemed the only feasible course, under the circumstances, and we decided to take it.

It is not the pleasantest thing in the world to be obliged to bolt like a rabbit across the open, even for twenty yards or so, under a hot fire.

"We must hope they are poor shots!" said Jack, smiling grimly. "If they couldn't hit us lying quietly on the sand they are not likely to bowl us over running."

"Count the shots they fire," I said; "then we shall know how many of them are in it."

"Now," whispered Jack, "we'll draw their fire with the cap once more; and the instant you hear the shot run for all you're worth to the base of the cliff. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head. I was horribly frightened, I confess. I do not think I am a coward when I can hit back if assailed, but I always lose heart when helpless. To cut and run for other fellows to shoot at you is, to a reflective mind, one of the most unpleasant things a man can be called upon to do.

However, there was nothing else to be done. Jack held up the cap; two shots were fired at it, and away we ran.

Three more reports rang out as we raced across the open, and, to my horror and despair, Jack fell. All my terror vanished at the sight, and only rage remained. I seized Jack's feet with an exclamation—it may have been an oath and it may have been a prayer—and dragged him along on his back in a manner which must have been dreadfully trying to a wounded man. One more shot was fired, but it flew over our heads; I heard the whistle of it distinctly. I deposited my burden at the foot of the cliffs,—the whole affair did not last four seconds,—and to my astonishment and intense relief the victim rose to his feet and laughed consumedly, though not noisily.

"I'm awfully sorry I frightened you, old man," he said, "but it was part of the game; I only invented it on the spot, or I would have warned you."

"Aren't you wounded?" I gasped.

"Not a bit of it!" said Jack. "I shammed on purpose. I'm hoping they'll come down now they imagine there's only one to deal with. If they do, there'll be 'ructions'!"

I cordially agreed with Jack on this point. I would not mind all three nephews, and would gladly throw in the cousin as well, at close quarters and in equal fight. Any fool can frighten me if he shoots at me from an ambush.

But though we waited in silence for some little while the enemy made no sign, and we came to the conclusion that the risk of being seen and recognised weighed more with them than the desire to wipe me off the face of the earth at any hazard.

"They've got to deny all knowledge of this little affair when we meet on board ship, you see," explained Jack.