The Secret of the Reef Read online

  CHAPTER X--THE WRECK OF THE _KANAWHA_

  Ruth had time to ponder her father's unfinished story, for a weekelapsed before she could persuade him to continue it. Osborne was awayfor a few days, and when he came home his preoccupied manner suggestedthat he had business of importance on hand, and Ruth refrained fromquestioning him. The subject, however, had its fascination for the girl.She had been too young to retain more than a hazy recollection of herfather in his struggling days, and she had fallen into the way ofthinking of him as the polished and prosperous gentleman whom she hadrejoined after a long separation. Now it was difficult to readjust herideas and picture him as a needy adventurer, taking strange risks andengaging in occupations of doubtful respectability. She was, she hoped,not hypercritical, but she found it hard to reconcile the two sharplycontrasted sides of his character.

  At last, one evening, when they strolled across the lawn as dusk wasfalling, she determinedly led up to the subject, regardless of the smilewith which he evaded her first questions.

  "I don't know why you should be so bent on hearing about the mine," hesaid. "On the whole, I'd rather forget the thing, because good lucknever followed the gold that was taken from Snowy Creek. There seemed tobe a curse upon it."

  They sat down on a bench beneath a tall, ragged pine, and Osbornelighted a cigar.

  "Well," he began, "some time after the Klondyke rush started, when goldhad been found freely on American as well as Canadian soil, I went up toAlaska to re-locate the mine. Clay had gone north before this, but notas a miner--he said it was cheaper to let somebody else dig the gold forhim. He had a share in a wooden steamboat, started a transport serviceto several mining camps, and financed prospectors who made lucky finds.Everything he touched prospered, and the man was popular where thecanvas towns sprang up; so I was not surprised when I found himunenthusiastic about my project. However, after much persuasion, heagreed to come, and we set off with two hired packers and suppliesenough to give us a good chance of success.

  "Summer was late that year, and we hauled the hand-sledges two hundredmiles over the snow; but I needn't tell you about our journey. We madeit with some trouble, and one afternoon came down to the creek, wet andworn out, plowing through belts of melting snow and soft muskegs made bythe sudden thaw. I had hide moccasins which were generally soaked andthey had given out under the fastenings of the snowshoes. My foot, whichhad been frost-bitten on the march when I first found the mine, was cutdeep, and it cost me a pretty grim effort to hold out for the last fewmiles. I made it because I couldn't let another night come before Ilearned my luck. All I had was in the venture, and if it failed I mustgo back to camp destitute."

  "One can understand that you were anxious."

  "It was hard to keep cool, but weariness and pain steadied me. I believeI showed no excitement, but I envied the others' calm. I can picturethem now: Clay, shuffling along in his old skin-coat and torn gum-boots;the two packers, grumbling at the slush and bent a little by theirloads. All round us a desolate wilderness ran back to the skyline; graysoil and rocks streaked with melting snow, out of which patches ofwithered scrub stuck forlornly. Well, we struck the creek, by compass,near where I intended, for soon afterward I picked up one landmark andClay another."

  "Clay? But he hadn't been there before!"

  "You're keen," Osborne observed. "We had often talked over my plans, andhe must have known nearly as much about the place as I did. Then onecouldn't mistake a prominent strip of rising ground, though it was somedistance off when Clay saw it."

  "But the mine?"

  "We made the spot in the evening, and I got there first, though it hurtme badly to put down my foot, and I've sometimes thought Clay held backto let me pass. Then I had to get a stern grip on my self-control, andfor a few moments I stood there with my hands clenched, unable to speak.Where I had left a small hole there was a large one, and a great pile oftailings was thrown up in the bed of the creek. It was obvious that wehad come too late."

  "How dreadful!" Ruth exclaimed. "After all you had gone through, it musthave been almost too hard to bear. What did you do?"

  "I can't remember. Clay was the first to speak and I can recall hislevel voice as he said, 'It looks as if somebody has been here beforeus, partner!'"

  "But how inadequate and commonplace! Didn't he do anything?"

  "He sat down on his pack and lighted a cigar; but he was always cool intime of strain. All I remember of my own doings was that some timeafterward I fired a stick of dynamite at the bottom of the hole and dugout the bits and half-thawn dirt until it was dark. I knew it was wastedlabor, because whoever had found the pocket wouldn't have stopped untilhe had cleaned it up. Then I threw down my tools and lay among thestones, limp and shivering, while Clay began to talk."

  "But who had found the mine?" Ruth interrupted.

  "I never learned. But Clay dealt with the situation sensibly. After all,he said, it was only a pocket; a small alluvial deposit. The streamwhich had brought the gold there had, no doubt, left some more in theslacker eddies, and it might be worth while to look for the mother-lode,where the metal came from. We had food enough to last while weprospected the neighborhood. The next morning we set about it, and,following up the creek, we found gold here and there; but our provisionsthreatened to run out before we came to the watershed."

  "Were any of the pockets as rich as the stolen one?" Ruth asked.

  "No," her father answered with a hint of reserve. "Still, we found somegold and got back safely to the coast. For a while I helped Clay, andthen he told me he must go south before the ice closed in. We sailed inthe vessel that he and some of his friends had bought, and when we rowedoff to her one misty day through a heavy surf I did not look forward toa comfortable trip. She was an old wooden steamer that had been whaling,with tall bulwarks and cut-down masts, and the topsail yards she stillcarried gave her a top-heavy look. The small, dirty saloon and part ofthe 'tween-decks were crowded with successful miners and others who wereat least fortunate in having money enough to take them out of thecountry before winter set in. None of them, I think, wished to see theNorth again, and nobody who knew it could blame them. Those who had goldhad earned it by desperate labor and grim endurance; those who had nonewere going back broken men--frost-bitten, crippled by accidents, andravaged by disease.

  "We had some trouble in getting to sea. Several of the crew haddeserted, and the rest were half-mutinous because they had been forciblykept on board. They struck me as a slipshod, unsailorly lot. To makethings worse, it was blowing fresh on-shore, and she lay, straining ather cables and dipping her bows, in the long roll, in an open roadstead.They broke a messenger chain that drove the rickety windlass in gettingthe stream anchor up, and the miners had to help with tackles beforethey could bring the kedge to the bows. Then she crawled slowly out tosea under half steam, and, although there was not much prospect of it, Ihoped she would make a quick passage. The young first mate and one ofthe engineers seemed capable men, but there was nothing to recommend therest, and the skipper was slack and too convivial in his habits. He wasa little, slouching man, with an unsteady look."

  "How did such an old ship get passengers, and why didn't they engage abetter crew?" Ruth wanted to know.

  "Passengers were not particular during the gold rush, and good seamenwere scarce on the Pacific slope. All who were worth anything had goneoff to the diggings."

  "Oh! Where was the gold she carried kept?"

  "In a strong-room under the floor of the stern cabin; that is, the goldthat was formally shipped by her, because I believe some of the minerscarried as much as possible on their persons and stowed the rest undertheir bunks. Anyway, you saw men keeping watch while the bedroomstewards were at work, and I imagine it would have been dangerous tomistake one's berth at night. I generally struck a match to make sure ofmy number. However, for the most part, the passengers seemed an honestlot, and I had more confidence in them than I had in the crew.

  "Our troubles began on the first day out, for she burst a pipe i
n theengine room; but there was no excitement when she stopped and a cloud ofsteam rushed out of the skylights. Men who had faced the Alaskan winterin the wilds and poled their boats through the rapids when the ice brokeup were not easily alarmed.

  "'The blamed old boiler's surely blowing. Guess that means another dayor two on the road,' one remarked, and the fellow he spoke to coollylighted his pipe.

  "'Well,' he said, 'they've got some sails up there. She'll make it allright if you give her time.'

  "She lay a good many hours in the trough of the sea, rolling so wildlythat nobody could keep his feet, while a miner and the second engineerstrapped the pipe with copper wire and brazed the joint; but the nextaccident was more serious. She was steaming before a white sea with twotopsails set when there was a harsh grinding and the engines stoppedwith a bang. A collar on the propeller shaft had given way, the boltshad broken, and until it could be mended there was nothing to connectthe engines with the screw.

  "They set more sail while the engineers got to work; and some hourslater Clay and I were sitting in the captain's room. Clay took theaccident lightly, but the skipper had a nervous look and had beendrinking more than was good for him. There was a bottle in the rack, andClay was filling a glass when a miner came in. He was a big man with aquiet, brown face and searching eyes.

  "'Can your engine crowd fix this thing, Cap?' he asked.

  "'They're trying,' said the skipper shortly. 'It may take some time.'

  "'What are you going to do while they're at the job?'

  "'Head south under sail.' The skipper began to look angry. 'Is thereanything else you want to know?'

  "'Just this--do you reckon you can handle her all right with the boysyou have?'

  "The skipper got up with a red face, and I expected trouble, but Clayglanced at the miner and pulled the skipper down.

  "'You had better answer him,' he said.

  "'If the wind holds, I can keep her on her course until the enginesstart. That should be enough for you.'

  "'Certainly,' said the miner. 'If you'd found the contract too big, we'dhave found you boys to help with the shaft or get sail on her. Anyway,if you want them later, you can let me know.' Then he went out and theskipper drained his glass. It was a thing he did too often."

  "But could the miner have done what he promised?" Ruth interrupted.

  "It's very likely. In fact, I think if we had wanted a doctor, anarchitect, or even a clergyman, we could have found one among the crowdon board. The fellow certainly found two or three mechanics, and once Icrawled into the shaft tunnel to watch them at work. As it wasimpossible to get the damaged length out, they worked at it in place,crouching awkwardly in an iron tube about four feet wide while they cutslots in the iron. There was hardly room to use the hammer and hold thechisel; black oil washed about the tunnel mixed with salt-water that hadcome in through a strained gland. Open lamps smoked and flickered closeabove their heads as she rolled and the air was foul; but they kept itup in turns with the ship's engineers for several days while the weathergot worse and the boat lurched along before an angry sea with her canvasset. The decks were wet because the big rollers that came up asternsplashed in across her rail. It was bitterly cold and a gray haze shutin the horizon. As the captain could get no sights, he had to make hiscourse by dead reckoning, which is seldom accurate."

  "You must have felt anxious with all your gold on board," Ruth said.

  "No," replied Osborne, with a moment's hesitation, which she missed."Clay had insured the vessel and his shipments by her on a kind offloating policy. I believe he had some trouble to effect it, but hemanaged to get the thing arranged through a broker with whom he had alittle influence."

  "Clay seems to have a good deal of influence," Ruth thoughtfullyremarked. "How does he get it?"

  "It's a gift of his," Osborne answered, with a curious smile. "However,to go back to my tale, I knew the gold was insured, because, as jointowner, I had to sign a declaration about its value, which would go byanother vessel with the bill of lading. To tell the truth, I was gettingmore anxious about my personal safety, for the cold and mist and wildweather were wearing on the nerves. At last, the gale blew itself out;but the haze got thicker as the sea began to fall; and one night I wasawakened by a shock that threw me out of my berth. As I got a fewclothes on I felt her strike again, and when I ran out on the deck, halfdressed, it was clear that she had made her last voyage. She lay, cantedover, across the sea, with her after-part sinking and the long swellwhich still ran breaking over her. You could see the smooth slopes ofwater roll out of the dark and melt into foam that covered half thedeck, while the planking crushed in with a horrible sound as the reefground through her bilge. There was, however, no panic. The minersquietly helped to swing the boats out; and, seeing that she was holdingtogether, I went with Clay and two seamen to open the strong-room. Itwas reached through a trap in the cabin floor, but some beams inbreaking had jambed this fast, and we attacked the deck with bars andaxes.

  "It was sharply slanted, the poop heaved and worked as the swell roaredabout it, and a big lamp that still burned hung at an extraordinaryangle with the bulkhead. I remember that a maple sideboard which hadwrenched itself away and slipped down to leeward, lay, smashed topieces, in a pool of water; but there was no time to lose in lookingabout. We all worked well, but Clay did more than any of us. He was halfdressed, his face was savage and dripping with sweat, and he swung hisax in a fury, regardless of the rest. In fact, his mood puzzled meafterward."

  "But his gold was below!" said Ruth.

  "It was fully insured," Osborne explained. "I didn't think Clay waslikely to make such desperate efforts for the benefit of theunderwriters; and he was not acting a part, because when the slant offloor got steeper and we were warned to come out before she slipped offthe reef, he shouted reckless offers of money to the men to encouragethem to keep on. We might have broken through if we had had a few moreminutes, though the strong-room must have been already flooded, but thelamp fell as she reeled when a roller struck her, and we were left indarkness with the water washing about our feet. It drove us out and shewas obviously going down when we waded across the after-deck. A boat layunder the quarter, but it was swept clear as soon as I dropped on board,and as we lurched away on the long swell there was a heavy crash. Then ablue light flared up and showed us other boats, and only half the wreckleft, looming black amid spouting foam.

  "It seemed that nobody had been left behind, and those who could rowtook the oars in turns through the dreary night. In the darkness wemissed an island which lay not far off, and it was two days later whenwe landed on a desolate mainland beach. We were there a fortnight,living, for the most part, on shellfish, and then, fortunately, aCanadian sealing schooner ran into a neighboring inlet for water. Shetook us on board, and, as we filled her up, it was a relief when shetransferred us to a wooden propeller off the northern end of VancouverIsland."

  "Then the gold was lost?"

  "All that was in the strong-room; the miners saved most of theirs.Nobody was blamed for the wreck, the underwriters paid, and when asalvage expedition failed to recover anything, there was an end of thematter. The gold lies at the bottom of the sea, and though I don't knowthat I'm superstitious, I think that's the best place for it. From thebeginning, it brought nobody luck."

  "It had a tragic story," Ruth agreed. "I wonder what would happen ifsomebody fished it up?"

  Osborne laughed.

  "There's not much fear of that. The wreck must have slipped off the reefsoon after we left, because the salvage people found both halves of herin deep water; but the strong tides and the bad weather prevented themfrom working and they declared that she would be buried in the sandbefore another attempt could be made."

  He turned to her with a smile in his eyes.

  "Now, little girl," he said, "you know all about it, and I hope you'resatisfied."

  "I found it very interesting," Ruth replied with a thoughtful air. "Inreality, it was the insurance payment that gave you a start?"<
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  "In a sense." Osborne's tone was grave. "Still, it was not what I'd nowconsider a large amount, and I've sometimes felt that I wouldn't besorry for an excuse to give it back."

  "I don't suppose Clay ever felt that way," Ruth said.

  "One wouldn't imagine so. What Clay gets he keeps. He's not the man tolet his imagination run away with him."

  Osborne rose and strolled across the lawn, but Ruth sat still in thegathering dark. It was a curious story she had heard, but she thoughtshe could understand her father's feeling regarding the gold. It hadbrought him bitter disappointment and permanent lameness, as well ashardships and suffering. There was, however, something puzzling inClay's determined attempt to break into the strong-room while the shipwas going to pieces. He was insured against all loss, and he was not theman to take undue personal risks. Then Ruth's thoughts returned to thegold, which had a fascination for her. After all, it was, perhaps, notimpossible that it should be recovered. A spell of unusually fineweather or a change in the currents might make another attempt easier.Treasure often had been taken from vessels long after they had sunk.Ruth thought of Jimmy Farquhar, engaged in some mysterious occupation onan island in the North. It seemed extravagant to suppose that he hadfound the wreck; but it was not impossible. It would be a curious thingif he should bring up from the depth what her father had lost. But herfather had said the gold brought bad luck in its train.

  The darkness crept up across the lawn and hovered round the girl,enshrouding her, as she thought of Jimmy Farquhar on the lonely islandin the North and puzzled over his connection with the ill-fated gold.