26 A Proposition

When the heavy bar that defended the door was put in place, Bonneau held up a torch which illumined the little room.

“Both here!” he exclaimed, “and both without a wound! Ah, thees ees one great moment for we have zee fear zat we never see you again!”

“Yes,” replied Pike, “we’re all right, an’ how hev you boys come through it?”

We had been casting hurried glances about as soon as we entered to see in what manner the defenders had fared. My first thought was of Henry, but he was apparently unharmed, and so were all the others except Mr. Sheldon, who had a strip of cloth tied around his left arm.

“A trifle,” he said, in reply to our inquiring glances. “A stray bullet came, in at a loophole when they made their first attack and barked my arm. And you; what success did you have? Did you achieve the object of the sally?”

I told the story of the tree cannon, and our success in ruining it, and they listened closely, making many comments.

“It was a clever device,” said Mr. Sheldon, when I had concluded, “but you have spiked their cannon. Had it not been for this sally I believe they would have destroyed our fort. We heard the report of your guns and were in a state of great suspense. Then the assault upon us came, and again you saved us with your flank attack.”

“Wa’al, we’re all back here ag’in together,” said Pike, “an’ I think Halftrigger hez hed enough fur this night. So I vote fur havin’ a bite to eat an’ some rest.”

Two of the party were detailed to watch at the loopholes, and then we ate strips of meat which Bonneau brought forth from the larder. It did not fall to my lot to keep watch, and thoroughly exhausted by the labors, the excitement and the dangers of the night, I lay down upon the floor and instantly went to sleep.

When I awoke it had been daylight some time, and I found that work had been resumed on the tunnel. This was by Pike’s orders. He said that the outlaws after their failure and losses of the night before would endeavor to starve us out, and it was necessary to provide at once for our water supply. Two hours after the work had been resumed we secured a fine flow of water in the tunnel, and no longer had any fears on the the score of thirst.

While this work was in in progress Pike was in his favorite position at the loopholes, scanning the country.

“I hevn’t seen any signs uv ’em,” he said, “an’ I don’t see none uv the dead either. I guess they managed to carry off the fallen.”

“What do you think of our position now after last night’s victory?” I asked.

“It could be a sight wuss,” said Pike, “but all the same, they’ve got us cooped up here, an’ ef they choose to wait in the woods thar an’ ambush us I don’t know when we kin git out. Thar must be at least a dozen or fifteen uv ’em left, an’ they kin keep a good watch on us fur days an’ days. Still we kin stan’ it jest ez long ez they kin.”

Our quarters were close and stuffy, and we were discommoded by the large quantity of earth that we had brought up from the tunnel, but we were prepared to hold the fort as long as our enemies threatened us,. It was my place, as Pike’s assistant, to help keep the watch through the loopholes, and while I was looking towards the crest of the hill I saw a man issue from the wood. I called the attention of Pike who was watching on the other side of the house to the figure. He looked through the loophole and exclaimed:

“Halftrigger!”

There was another loophole on the same side of the house, and I put my eye to it. As the figure came nearer there was no mistaking it for any other than Halftrigger’s. He held up a stick, on the end of which a white rag floated, and came on steadily.

“Thet white rag means a truce, I reckin’” said Pike. “I guess he wants to hev a talk with us.”

Halftrigger approached our fort with as firm a step and as calm a face as if he and its defenders were old friends about to be re-united. Though I knew him to be a consummate villain, I could not restrain my admiration of his hardihood. Nor did Pike.

“Pity sech a fellow should take up with robbers an’ cutthroats an’ be the wust uv ’em all,” he said.

Halftrigger looked as jaunty as ever. He had stuck a sprig of a crimson mountain flower in his hat, and swung his shoulders in a way that was quite gay and debonnair. When he was about fifteen yards distant he halted and hailed us.

“Hello, in the house thar, my beauties!” he called. “I hope you’re well an’ sassy this mornin’ an’ are in humor fur o’ bit o’ conversation with a friend.”

“What do you want?” asked Pike, through the loophole.

“I ain’t no sea lawyer,” replied Halftrigger, “an I kain’t talk through a timber wall. Come out whar I kin hear ye.”

“You’ll hardly expect us to put ourselves in your hands,” replied Pike.

“But I’ve put myself in yours,” replied Halftrigger. “Why don’t you meet me half way?”

“But you know that we are men uv honor,” replied Pike, “an’ wouldn’t shoot at you when you come by yourself carryin’ that white rag. We don’t know the same about you.”

“You’re not ez polite ez an admiral,” replied Halftrigger, without any show of ill-humor, however, “but I guess I kin stan’ it. ’Spose you open your door an’ stan’ thar. Ez you don’t trust us you could close it afore we could make a rush. Now, I’ll call my lieutenant an’ we’ll come up an’ talk to you about some propositions I’ve got to make.”

We were clustered at the loopholes, and after a little consultation we decided that we would accept the proposition. Pike hailed Halftrigger and told him to bring on his friend. Halftrigger beckoned in the direction of the wood, and Spanish Pete appeared and joined him.

“Don’t open the door much,” said Pike, “for we don’t want ’em to ketch any idea of our tunnel.”

Then Pike, Mr. Sheldon and myself stepped outside, the others remaining to hold the door. But we stood in front of the door, ready for action at the first sign of treachery.

“Glad to see ye, gen’lemen,” said Halftrigger. “Hope we’ve been able to keep ye from sufferin’ from dullness. This gen’leman who hez jest joined me is Mr. Peter Mendoza, born in Spain an’ ez tidy a lad ez one could wish to hev with him on a cruise.”

“What is it that you want to say to us?” asked Pike.

“Don’t hurry me,” replied Halftrigger. “I’m a-comin’ to that. I hope you hev noticed what a fine day it is, gen’lemen; how invitin’ it is, I might say, for a lot o’ hearty lads sech ez us to meet together an’ discuss a proposition like friends.”

“Wa’al, let us know what you’ve got to say, an’ less not jabber all day about the weather,” exclaimed Pike, impatiently.

“Oh, well, ef you’re in sech a hurry,” said Halftrigger, “an’ want us to drop all the ornaments o’ conversation, which do so much to season the discourse o’ friends, I’ll come to the p’int. We’ve been a-scrappin’ an’ a-shoo’tin’ at each other over a lot o’ gold which you think is your’n, but which we think is our’n by rights.”

“Well, I must say you have all your assurance with you!” exclaimed Mr. Sheldon.

“Sartinly! sartinly!” replied Halftrigger, with a polite bow. I never travel without it. Now, to come back to what I wuz a-goin’ to say when the gen’leman interrupted me.

“Thar seems to be a dispute about the ownership o’ this gold. But it’s in your han’s jest at this time. Moreover, you’re inside the house and we’re outside. We kain’t git in an’ you kain’t git out. So thar you are. Now I’ll admit that so fur we haven’t been very successful in this engagement. You spiked our artillery fur us in great fashion last night. But I don’t lay it up ag’in you. Also you druv us off, an’ we lost some o’ our men. But we’re still mighty strong, an’ you kain’t come out o’ your fort without our poppin’ you over. So we’ll jest hang back in the woods thar an’ wait fur you. Your food an’ water will soon give out, an’ then you’ll hev to surrender. But I’m willin’ to play fair, even when I hold all the cards. So I’ll make you an offer.”

“What is your offer?” asked Pike as Halftrigger paused.

“It’s this,” replied Halftrigger. “All the gold that you’ve got in thar is our’n, but you’ve made sech a good fight fur it thet we’re willin’ to stop all the fightin’ an’ let you take one-third o’ the gold, bein’ ez you’re the smaller party, while we take two-thirds.”

This proposition was made with a coolness and assurance that astounded us all, and before we had time to reply Halftrigger continued:

“After the division is made far an’ squar’, ’cordin’ to the terms, I’ll see that you get off safe, an’ that none o’ the boys pester ye.”

Now I for one was indignant at such a proposition. I was not willing to make a division of the gold, even if we could have trusted Halftrigger, and I believed that he would cut our throats without mercy if he got us in his power. But I waited for Pike to do the talking.

“Wa’al I must say, Mister Halftrigger,” said Pike slowly, “that you’d make a mighty good hoss swapper. You’d never furgit to ask enough. Now, ez fur that gold you speak of, it’s all our’n.”

“Oh, we kain’t agree on that, an’ so we won’t argy it,” said Halftrigger lightly.

“No, we won’t argy it,” said Pike, with emphasis. “But ez fur dividin’ it with you, I don’t see no call fur us to do that. In fact, I’m dead ag’in it. Before I’d give a single lump to you I’d fight it out here to the last notch. But I’ve got pardners, an’ they’ve got a right to be heard. What do you say, boys?”

“You’ve stated the case exactly to my liking,” said Mr. Sheldon. “Never divide.”

“It’s ours; let’s keep it,” I said.

We were very near the door, and the boys inside must have heard all that we said, for such exclamations as these came to us:

“Mille tonnerres! Give up a part of ze gold to ze cutthroats! Nevaire, a thousand time, nevaire!”

“Blast my eyes! The gall o’ that pirate! Give up our prize money after we’ve worked fur it an’ fit fur it! May I be blowed to Davy Jone’s locker ef I’m willin’.”

“Do as Pike says and stay here and fight it out!”

“You hear what the boys say?” said Pike, grimly; “an’ what they say they think. I’m afeard, Mr. Halftrigger, that you’re comin’ to the wrong folks, ef you think we’re goin’ to give up our own.”

Spanish Pete’s countenance lowered, but Halftrigger’s bearing lost no whit of its gayety or buoyancy.

“It wuz merely out o’ kindness an’ softness o’ heart that I made the offer to you gen’lemen,” he said. “I allus hed a tender heart—too tender fur my own good, I guess. Ef it hadn’t been fur a streak in me thet’s ez soft ez butter reckon I’d got along better in this bad world. But I kain’t help it. I reckon I wuz jest born thet way, an’ we never git our reward fur bein’ good an’ kind an’ tender an’ condescendin’. I think, gen’lemen, you’ve made a great mistake. Sence you won’t give up to us part o’ our gold I guess we’ll hev to take it all, an’ that’s onpleasant. People may git hurt, an’ thar may be some blood lost, which is all mighty jarrin’ on the feelin’s uv a soft an’ marciful man like me.”

“I guess you’ll hev to stan’ it ez best you kin,” said Pike.

“Perhaps, mate,” said Halftrigger, “when thar’s a gnawin’ in your stummick an’ your throat feels like a piece o’ burnt wood, an’ you kain’t git meat, aft’ you kain’t git water, you’ll think better o’ this. It’ll be mighty hard on you to set thar in that cabin an’ see the water a-bubblin’ an a-splashin’ an’ a-shinin’ in the sunlight not twenty feet off, an’ not a drop to wet your inside with an’ to drive the burnin’ away. I heard a feller read a poem once about a shipwrecked sailor floatin’ along, with his mate lyin’ dead o’ thirst on the bottom o’ the boat, an’ himself a-ragin’ with the torture an’ a-cryin’ out: ‘Water, water, everywhar, an’ not a drap fur me to drink.’ Wa’al, that’s the way you’ll feel. You won’t dare to come outside o’ this cabin, fur the moment you poke your head through the door, zip-zip will come one o’ our balls, an’ that’ll be the end o’ ye.”

Halftrigger dropped his expression of suavity, and his eyes shone with malignity. We might have been awed somewhat by his ferocious energy if it had not been for the comfortable recollection of our tunnel and its unfailing water supply, upon which we could draw as easily and safely as if no freebooter were within a thousand miles of us.

“We haven’t yet reached the degree of suffering upon which you dwell so delightfully,” said Mr. Sheldon to Halftrigger, “and perhaps we never will. And I may add that I don’t think your descriptions have any terrors for us.”

“All right,” said Halftrigger. “I’ve give you a chance. I’ve been willin’ to sacrifice my interests to help you along. I’ve done my dooty ez a tender and marciful man, an’ ef trouble comes o’ your obstinacy, my conscience won’t pester me about it.”

He bowed to us, beckoned to Spanish Pete, and the two, turning away, walked up the hill and disappeared in the woods.

“There goes the finest representative of cool villainy that I have ever met,” said Mr. Sheldon.

We re-entered the cabin, fastened the door, and began to speculate as to what Halftrigger’s next proceeding would be. But Halftrigger made no movement, on that day or the next day, and we chafed greatly at our confinement in the close little cabin. Of course, we could have shouldered our rifles and gone away, risking the chances of a combat with our enemies, but that would have necessitated the abandonment of all our gold, except what we could carry on our persons, and not one of us felt any inclination to do that. Once or twice we opened our door a little and showed a hat at the crack, but the outlaws were on watch, for they fired at the hat every time. Halftrigger must have wondered how we managed to get water, but he made no more propositions to divide the gold. Our manner had indicated too clearly the futility of such attempts.

On the second night Pike stole out on a scouting expedition. When he came back he reported that the outlaws had formed two camps. They retained their old place, and also had taken possession of our tools, and part of them were there digging for gold.

“They seem to be makin’ theirselves at home,” said Pike, “jest ez ef they would stay here a year.”

“We will have to go out and fight zem all and kill zem all, and zen take our gold away,” exclaimed the impatient little Bonneau.

“But even if the field were clear,” said Henry, “we could not take the gold away, as we have lost the mules.”

“We could manage that ef we hed thet gang out uv the way,” said Pike.

Our situation was inexpressibly annoying, but we could, not devise any method of changing it. Several days later Halftrigger appeared again with his white flag and accompanied by Spanish Pete. Pike and I, as before, met him in front of the door.

“Atter thinkin’ it over, I’ve decided to give you another chance,” he said. “You see, you kain’t git away with thet gold, nohow, an’ ’tain’t wuth while to try it. But since you’ve made me wait, I guess I’ll hev to come down from my first offer. I kain’t allow you more’n a fourth o’ the gold now.”

“You’re wastin’ your breath,” said Pike. “The gold’s our’n an’ we’re goin’ to keep it. Besides, you kin see that what you said about us afore ain’t comin’ true. We ain’t burnin’ up with thirst. Our throats ain’t dry an’ our stummicks ain’t empty, either.”

“That’s true,” said Halftrigger, “you do look powerful healthy. I guess you hed more meat an’ water than I thought you hed, but it’s bound to run out arter a while, an’ then you’ve got to choose atween layin’ in your house an’ starvin’ or comin’ out an’ bein’ shot.”

“We ain’t afraid uv either,” said Pike, “an’ besides, we’re rather enjoyin’ this rest, seein’ that we had to work so hard gittin’ out the gold. It’s nice an shady in our cabin thar, an’ we like to stretch ourselves an’ git the soreness out uv our muscles after workin’ so hard.”

“Glad you like waitin’,” said Halftrigger. “Patience is a mighty good thing. I hev a good bit o’ it myself.”

“I don’t think it’ll be wuth while to open this subject ag’in,” said Pike, “so I’ll hev to ask you an’ your frien’, the Spanisher, to go.”

“All right,” said Halftrigger, briskly. “We’re gentlemen, an’ we know enough to leave when we’re not wanted, don’t we, Pete?” Then the big fellow as he walked off gayly sang:

“He describes himself well in his song,” I said.

Pike nodded.

Then we went back into our hut and to our wearisome waiting. Several more days passed, and our disgust at our situation become so intense that we were ready for almost any desperate deed. Even Bonneau’s impatient proposition to go out and wipe out the gang, or attempt it, was brought up and discussed seriously. But Pike shook his head.

“No,” he said, “we might beat ’em in an open fight, but they’re more’n two to one, and some uv us would be shore to git killed. We’ll wait a while longer an’ see ef somethin’ don’t turn up.”

On the day following this little conversation the outlaws resorted to the old Indian device of the burning arrow. We guessed that they had made their bows and arrows at Halftrigger’s suggestion, and under his instructions. But they were not skillful enough to prepare a weapon that threatened us with a serious danger. In most cases the blaze of the arrow was extinguished by its own flight, and the two or three that alighted on the roof still burning failed to do any harm. The blaze, after spluttering feebly, would go out. The arrows were fired from the top of the hill, and once or twice I thought I saw the figure of an outlaw among the trees. I wanted to fire at these shadows, but Pike would not let me. He said it was not worth while, and after an hour of fruitless experiments the outlaws gave up the attempt.

The outlaws maintained an intermittent search in the riverbed for gold. Frequently we could see all of them gathered at our mine, some digging and the others lolling about and looking on. They seemed to be enjoying life, too, for often they indulged in horse play which we had no doubt was intended for our benefit. They expected, so we thought, to stir our bile to such an extent that we would make some rash movement. But in this expectation they failed, as they had failed with the burning arrows.

Nevertheless, our situation was growing more irksome daily. We were wondering when the end would come, and what that end would be.

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