Julian was much relieved, but Rufe was overjoyed to see us.

"De Lord o' massy!" he began, "but I's glad to see you-all! Whah you been all dis heah time? I jes' been a-telling Jul'en, boy, dat shu'ah dem voodoo niggahs got ye. I hopes, now, you-all is gwine to gib up dat ol' gold-huntin'."

"Give up!" said Ray. "Say, Rufe, did you ever think Norris would ever give up anything? Why——"

"Look here, Rufe," broke in Norris thrusting a pretty nugget under the cook's nose. "Does that look like giving up gold-hunting?"

Rufe's eyes bulged. "Is dat sho' 'nuff gold?" he queried.

And then we began with our story. And Rufe must have us over by the galley door to continue the tale, while he hurried dinner, for he said, "I jes' knows you-all is nigh about starved out."

The black sailors were squatted in a circle, up near the bows, when we came aboard, and dice rattled on the deck, with snaps of fingers and sharp orders spoken to the bones for their better performance. Julian said it was the dice kept them contented, day after day and they were at the game continuously.

During the meal our plans for the following days came to a head. It was the purpose to sail the Pearl round to and through the tortuous channel into Crow Bay. The schooner would go out from the cove under the land breeze, sometime between nine o'clock at night and morning, and the trade wind—from the northeast—would take her into Crow Bay the next day. Three of us would row in the little boat, down the bay to that isle, to see that the coast should be clear. The afternoon was not idle, for Norris was full of preparation for the reception of all that treasure—gold-dust; and there must be bins made in the schooner's hold, for, "we'll have to dump some of it in, like grain," he said. "We haven't time to build chests for it all." And then Robert and I were tired of the stain on our skins, and must have it off.

Before night spread over the region, Norris, with his big rifle, and Robert and I with our little ones, were in the skiff, moving slowly out on Crow Bay. There was no sign of a boat on the bay yet.

"I guess they got scared out," said Norris, "and are still lying in some cove, waiting for word from Duran."

In these tropics you sweep the bright daylight landscape with your eyes, noting the graceful palms bowing to you over the beach; then you close your eyes, count a few hundred slowly, open them again, and—presto! all is black night, and the palms have melted into eternity, or are dimly silhouetted against the night sky. The narrow crescent of the new moon was among the tops of the palms behind us.

Within the hour, we made landing on the isle. We dragged our boat up into the brush, and then moved back through the wood to the edge of the clearing. A light shone in the window of the hut. We crept up and looked in. That same portly black was there, and he was in the midst of preparations to turn into his bunk. In another minute he put out the light.

We decided to go round the island beach for signs of any recent landing parties. We found the boat, used by the black of the cabin, in its usual place. Then we took to the beach, and with the occasional use of our battery lamps, we examined the sand floor as we went. We completed the circuit, seeing nothing to our interest. And then Norris was for at once going into that thicket where Robert and Carlos had witnessed the going in and out of Duran and that mysterious, naked black.

Robert led the way, which took us into the clearing to the north of the cabin. In a little, we had found a winding way, cut into the thicket. In the center of that jungle we came into a space having the dimensions of a small room. The floor was level—of sand. We threw our light around.

"Not a sign of anything here," declared Norris.

But Robert had another word to say. "Here it is!" he cried. And we joined him, where he was stamping with his foot. There was a sound—or feel—as we came down with our heels, of something hollow beneath.

We scraped the sand away with our hands, making a hole less than a foot in depth; and came upon something made of boards.

"So far, so good," said Norris. "The stuff is there without much doubt. We have nothing more to do, now, but wait till the Pearl gets here, tomorrow."

When we settled down beside our boat, close to the south beach, the night breeze was rustling the dry palm fans above our heads; the ripples broke on the beach with a soft playful sound.

"I guess Captain Marat will be getting sail on the schooner, now," I observed.

"I wish this same wind would get him here tonight," complained Norris.

"We ought to be glad we can depend on another wind to get him in tomorrow," I reproved the impatient one.

"Right you are, Mr. Philosopher," he returned with proper humility. "I'm a worse kid than any of you. But then, too, I don't mind saying, I don't want the interference of any more of these voodoo skunks till we get all the stuff into the hold of the Pearl. After that, let them come on—I'd just like another whack at some more of those blood-drinking voodoo cannibals." And he rubbed his hands with contemplation of the experience.

We took turn about on watch, though we did not think it worth while to keep any eye on the hut. It was three of the morning, when Norris roused me for my watch. I paced a little stretch of beach for a spell, to work off the sleep that clung to me.

Suddenly, I heard voices. I hurried in to the clearing. And sure enough, over near the hut, there were those who were chattering away with more or less abandon.

I rushed back to my comrades, shook them awake and gave them the news.

"Get your rifles," said Norris.

We hurried to the clearing. The voices now came from the shore to the west. We scrambled through the brush till we got in view of the beach.

There we made out in the dark a number of figures moving in a mass towards a boat. These figures hovered about the boat for some minutes, and then returned the way they had come, disappearing in the wood.

We three lost not a moment, but leaped to that boat. It was a ship's life-boat of considerable size, and clinker built; and between two of the thwarts there rested a chest of great weight, as we found.

"They're here sure enough," said Norris, in a whisper. "They're getting the stuff. Now it's for a fight!" and he patted his rifle.

"Wait!" I said, as he was about to lead the way after the blacks. "Leave the shooting to Bob and me, with our rifles—they can't hear ours."

And it was Robert, then, that suggested that we bore holes in the boat.

The planks were thin, since the boat was clinker built, so that we were not long in making a number of holes with our knives, near the bow, which was out of the water. We got in among the palms and brush and waited the coming of the blacks. I whispered Robert a caution not to aim above the knees; no need to do more than should serve our purpose.

We had time to spare, but the black figures presently pushed out on the beach, toting a heavy object among them. There seemed to be five in the group.

"Now," I whispered, and Robert and I raised our little rifles. As we pulled the triggers, there was no sound but two outcries. Then came two more howls, and down went the heavy thing they carried.

The blacks ran afoul of one another, in their frantic haste to get to the boat. They pushed off, scrambling into the boat, and we sent more silent, hot pepper after the legs that dallied. Norris could not resist; he jerked his rifle to his shoulders. But Robert and I pulled him down.

"Don't spoil it now," I said. "Let's not make a noise if we can help it."

"You're right," he said. "I'll maybe get my chance another time."

That boat was not over forty yards from shore now, and even in the dark we could see that it was sinking. And the blacks had evidently discovered their plight, and were leaping into the water and striking out for the north shore of Crow Bay.

When the last of the blacks had abandoned the boat, we had off some of our clothes, and rushed into the water.

It was up to our arm-pits where we found the boat. Though the water was within a few inches of the top of the coaming, we contrived with a few shoves to propel the boat some yards shoreward, before it sank, in five feet of water.

"Well, that's safe," said Norris, striking out for the shore. "We'll get that out with tackle."

Day broke while we examined that chest upon the beach. It was of rough lumber, roughly, but strongly made, having rope handles, and well padlocked. In the hut we found food, cooking utensils, an empty jug emitting an odor of rum, an ax, and a pair of shovels.

"That fat, black fellow who lived here must have gone off with the others," observed Robert.

Norris led the way into the thicket. In the spot we'd found in the night, a tight box of great size was sunk into the soil. Its cover lay on one side. On this cover stood an open chest, a quarter filled with the gold-laden bamboo cylinders. Down in the great box were three more of the chests; and these we found to be empty. All were fitted alike, with rope handles, staples and hasps.

"Well, anyway," said Norris, "we'll make good use of these boxes. There's all that stuff up in the cave." He ran on, with enthusiasm, on the things we would do.

"All right, all right," interrupted the usually taciturn Robert at last, "but when's breakfast?" And his hand went in where his breakfast should be.

"That's so," admitted Norris. "We've forgotten breakfast."

The odor in the hut was too much for our stomachs, so we eschewed the place for all that it had a stove, and made our meal down by our boat.

The morning dragged tediously. It was less than two hours of noon before the day breeze sprung up, so that we could hope for the coming of the Pearl. We crouched in the sand on the northeast shore of the isle, watching anxiously. And at last the sails of the schooner appeared, coming from behind the point near the inner terminus of the channel. We rose to our feet and shouted with joy.

"Hold on!" I cried, when I had taken a second look. "That's not the Pearl, that's the Orion!"

"Good God! Yes, you're right," said Norris. "What does that mean?"

We retreated into the shelter of the trees. And I sickened with a horrid sensation. It was as much anxiety regarding the Pearl, as fear for ourselves; and we had no proper defence, from which we could stand off a dozen or more armed black devils. The Orion changed her course and bore down direct for the isle. We stood, paralyzed with our surprise and dread, gazing on that vessel as it bore down under the freshening breeze. For ten minutes we stood thus.

"Shall we take to the skiff?" said Robert at last.

None answered him. I had just noted a strange thing. The black sailors on the Orion—now almost directly north of us—had none of their interest centered on the isle. I turned my eyes back the way the Orion had come. And there were the sails of another schooner coming from behind that point.

"Look!" I cried.

"The Pearl!" said Grant Norris. "That tells the story: the Orion's running away from her."

He danced with joy. And we three struck one another in our ecstacy of relief.

The Orion rounded the isle, and the Pearl, coming in chase, was soon opposite us, and near enough to hail. We rushed down to the water. Our friends, at the rail, waved to us.

"All is safe!" we called. "Drive the Orion out if you can!"

"Aye! Aye!" came back Ray's voice, and the chase continued.

Round the isle they went. We followed with our eyes, walking the beach. The Orion scudded off a way down the bay, to the east; then went about on the starboard tack and made for the channel, where she had come in. At last she disappeared behind that point again. And then the Pearl left the trail, and again set her bowsprit toward our isle, at last dropping her anchor some two hundred yards to the northwest.

In a little, Captain Marat, Ray, Julian, and Carlos came to shore in the boat.

"Well, you gave us a proper fright," I told them, "driving that schooner in on us that way."

"Norris didn't get scared, did he?" bantered Ray.

"Yes, he did," declared Norris, speaking for himself. "And the skin all up and down my back is wrinkled even yet. This little place isn't like that up there in that rock sink, with all those holes to crawl into when you're getting licked."

"I'll tell you, Ray," I interposed. "The thing that made most of those wrinkles in his back was thinking what must have happened to you and the Pearl—seeing that schooner coming in in place of the Pearl. Now tell us how you chased the Orion in here."

"Ah," began Captain Marat. "I guess thad Orion lay all night in thee passage. We see her there when we come in."

And now the party must visit the gold-cache in the thicket.

"Well," observed Julian, "this is interesting, but I want to see your gold mine behind that waterfall."

"The waterfall isn't much for size," returned Norris, "but it's a wonderful accident of nature; and I will say Carlos's father had a remarkable head on him to discover what it hid. But wait till you see his gold mine, and the stuff in the cave, that's come out of it, and you'll have an eyeful."

"Yes," added Ray. "And you'll see a monkey in there that's always filling Wayne's pocket full. That monkey and Wayne are in cahoots."

Our first care was to recover the gold-laden chest that went down with the boat. By diving, we got a hawser through the two rope handles. And when the tide was all in—and that was about two o'clock—we warped the schooner over to the place; and with block and tackle on the foresail boom, swung above, we had soon lifted the chest aboard. Many hands made light work of the other boxes.

With careful sounding, as we moved under reefed mainsail and jib, we got the Pearl to a good anchorage near the upper end of Crow Bay. And as there were still some hours of daylight, we took the empty chests in two boats, and sought out the bayou that took us into the mouth of the creek whose waters flowed from the gold mine.

Julian this time accompanied the party; and I got renewed thrills, to see how he marveled at the wonders that blazed the trail, from the little cascade that screened the entrance, to the placer mine, and the shining gold horde in the cave.