Rensselaer Republican, Volume 25, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 April 1893 — The Master of Ballantrae [ARTICLE]
The Master of Ballantrae
By Robert Louis Stevenson.
CHAPTER XXVlll— Continued. And now there began between the two sides a silent contest, for life on the one hand, for riches on the other. They were now near that quarter of the desert in which the master himself must begin to play the part of guide; and using this for a pretext of prosecution, Harris and his men sat with him every night about the fire, and labored to entrap him into some admission. If he let slip his secret, he knew well it was the warrant for his death; on theother hand, he durst not refuse their questions, and must appear to help them to the best of his capacity, or ne practically Sublished his mistrust. And yet fountain assures me theman’sbrow was never ruffled. He sat in the midst of these jackals, his life depending by a thread, like some easy, witty householder at home by his own fire; an answer he had for everytLi ig—as often as not, a jesting answei; avoided thr£ ats, evaded insults, talked, laughed, and listened with an open countenance; and, in short, conducted himself in such a manner as must have disarmed suspicion, and went near to stagger knowledge. Indeed Mountain confessed to me they would scoa have disbelieved the captain’s story, and supposed their designated victim still quite innocent of tneir designs, but for the fact that he continued (however ingeniously) to give the slip to questions, and the yet stronger confirmation of his repeated efforts to escape. The last of these, which brought things to a head, lam now to relate. .And first I should say that by this time she temper of Harris's companions was utterly worn out; civility was scarce pretended; and for one very significant circumstance, the master and Secundra had been (on some pretext) deprived of weapons. On their side, however, the threatened pair kept up the parade of friendship handsomely; Secundra was all bows, the master all and on the last night of the truce ne had even gone so far as to sing for the diversion of the company, it was observed that he had eaten with qnusual heartiness, and drank deep, doubtless from design. At least, about three in the morning, he came out of the tent into the open air, audibly mourning and complaining, with all the manner of a sufferer from a surfeit. For some while, Secundra publicly attended on his patron, who at last became more easy, and fell asleep on the frosty ground behind the tent: the Indian returning within. Some time after, the sentry was changed; and the master pointed out to him, where he lay in what is called a robe of buffalo: and thenceforth kept an eye upon him (he declared) without remission, With the first of the dawn, a draught of wind came suddenly and blew open one side the corner of the robe; and with the same puff, the master's hat whirled in the air and fell some yards away. The sentry, thinking it remarkable the sleeper did not awaken, thereupon drew near; and the next moment, with a great shout, informed the camp their prisoner was escaped. He had left behind his Indian, who (in the first vivacity of the surprise) came near to pay the forfeit of his life, and was, in fact, inhumanly mishandled; but Secundra, in the midst of threats and cruelties, stuck to it with extraordinary loyalty, that he was quite ignorant of his master’s plans, which might indeed be ttnle, and of the manner of his escape, which was demonstrably false. Nothing was therefore left to the conspirators but to rely entirely on the skill of Mountain. The night had been frosty, the ground quite hard; and the sun was no sooner up than a strong thaw set in. It was Mountain’s boast that few men could
have followed that trail, and still fewer (even of the native Indians) found it. The master had thus a long start before his pursuers had the scent, and he must have traveled with surprising energy for a pedestrian so unused, since it was near noon before Mountain had a view of him. At this conjuncture the trader was alone, all his companions following, at his own request, several hundred yards in the rear; he knew the master was unarmed; his heart was besides heated with the exercise and lust of hunting; and seeing the quarry so close, so defenseless, and seemingly so fatigued, he vaingloriously determined to effect the capture with his single hand. A step or two further bronght him to one margin of a little clearing; on the other, with arms"folded and his back to a huge stone, the master sat. It is possible Mountain may have made a rustle, it is certain, at least, the master raised his head and gazed directly at that quarter of the thicket where his. hunter lay. “I could not be sure he saw me,” Mountain said; “he just looked my way like a man with his mind made up, and all the courage ran out of me like rum out of a bottle.” And presently, when the master looked away again, and appeared to resume those meditations in which he had sat immersed before the trader’s coming. Mountain slunk stealthily back and 1 returned io seek the help of his companions. CHAPTER XXIX. And now began the chapter of surprises, for the scout had scarce informed the others of his discovery, and they were yet preparing their weapons for a rush upon the fugitive, when the man himself appeared in their midst, walking openly and qui-
etlv, with his hands behind his back. □ “Ah, ipen!” says he, on his beholding them. “Here is a fortunate encounter. Let us get back to camp? 1 Mountain had not mentioned his own weakness or- the master’s disconcerting gaze upon the thicket, so that (with all the rest) his return appearod spontaneous. For all that, a hub-bub arose; oaths flew, fists were shaken, and guns pointed. “Let us get back to camp,” said the master. “I have an explanation to make, .but it must be laid before you all. And in the meanwhile T would put up these weapons, one of which might easily go off, and blow awav your hopes of treasure. I would not kill,” says he, smiling, “the goose with the golden eggs.” The charm of his superiority once more triumphed: and the party, in no particular order, set off on their return. By the way, he found occasion to get a word or two apart Mountain. “You are a clever fellow and a bold,” says he, “but I am not sure that you are doing yourself justice. I would have you to consider whether you would not do better, ay, and safer, to serve me instead of serving so commonplace a rascal -as Mr. Harris. Consider of it,” he concluded.: dealing the man a gentle tap upon the shoulder, “and don't be in haste. Dead or alive, you will find me an ill man to quarrel with.”
When they were come back to the camp, where Harris and Pinkerton stood guard over Secundra, these two ran upon the master like viragoes, and were amazed, put of measure when they were bidden by their comrades to “stand back and hear what the gentleman had to say.” The master had not flinched before their onslaught; nor, at. this proof of the ground he had gained, did he display the least sufficiency. “Do not let us be in haste,” says he. “Meat first and public speakingafter:” With that they made a hasty meal; and as soon as it was done, the master, leaning on one elbow, began his speech. He spoke long, addressing himself to each, except Harris, finding tion) some particular flattery. He called them ‘ ‘bold, honest blades, ”: declared lie had never seen a more jovial company, work better done, or pains more merrily supported, “well, then,” says he, “some one asks me ‘Why the devil I ran away?’ But that is scarce worth answer, for I'think you all know pretty well. But you know only pretty well; that is a point I shall arrive at presently, and be ready to remark it when it comes. There is a traitor here; a double traitor; I will give you his name before I am done; and let that suffice for now. But here comes some other gentleman and asks me ‘Why in the devil I came back?' Well, before I answer that question, 1 have one to put to you. It was this cur here, this Harris, that speaks Hindoostanee?” cries he, rising on one knee and pointing fair at the man’s face, with a gesture indescribably menacing; and when he
had been answered in the affirmative, “Ah!” says he, “then are all my suspicions verified, and I did rightly to come back. Now, men, hear the truth for the first time. Thereupon he launched forth in a long story, told with extraordinary skill how he had all along suspected Harris, how he had the confirmation of his fears, and how Harris must have misrepresented what passed between Secundra and himself. At this point he made a bold stroke with excellent effect. “I suppose,” says he, ' ‘you think you. are going shares with Ilarris, I suppose you think you will see to that yourselves; you would naturally not think so flat a rogue could cozen you. But have a care! These half-idiots have a sort of cunning, as the skunlr haS its stench; and it may be news to' you that Harris has taken care of himself already. Yes, for him the treasure is all money in the bargain. You must find it or go starve. But he has been paid beforehand; my brother paid him to destroy me; look at him, if you doubt —look at him, grinning and gulping, a detected thief!” Thence, having made this happy impression, he explained how he had escaped, and thought better of it, and at last concluded to come back, lay the truth before the company, and take his chance with them once more; persuaded, as he was, they would instantly depose 'Harris and elect some other leader. “There is the whole truth,” said he, “and with one exception, I put myself entirely in your hands. What is the exception? There he sits," he cried, pointing once more to Harris; “a man that has to die. Weapons and conditions are all one.to me; put me face to face with him, and if you give me nothing but a stick, in five minutes I will show you a sop of broken carrion fit for dogs to roll in.” It was dark night when he made an end; they had listened in almost perfect silence; but the fire-light scarce permitted any one to judge, from the look of his neighbors, with what result of persuasion or convic tiou. Indeed, the master had set himself in the brightest place, and kept his face there, to be the center of men’s eyes; doubtless on, a profound calculation. Silence followed for awhile, and presently the whole party became involved in disputation; the master lying on his back, With his hands knit under his head and one knee flung across the other, like a person uncoccnrned in the result. And here, I dare say, his bravado carried him tob far and prejudiced his case. At least, after a caor two back and forward, opinion finally settled against him. It is possible he hoped to repeat the busi-
ness of the pirate ship, and be himself, perhaps, on hard enough conditions, elected Ileader; and things went so far that way that Mountain actually threw out the But the rock he split upon was Hastie. This fellow was not well liked, being sour and slow, with an ugly, glowering disposition, but he had studied some time for the church, at Edinburg College, before ill-conduct had destroyed his prospects, and he now remembered mid applied what he had learned. Indeed, he had not proceeded very far when the master rolled carelessly upon one side, which was done (in Mountain's opinion) to conceal the beginnings of despair upon his countenance. Hastie dismissed the most of what they had heard as nothing to the matter; what they wanted was the All that was said of Harris might be true, and they would have to see to that in time. But what had that to, do with the treasure? They had heard a vast deal of words; but the truth was just this, that Mr. Durie was damnably frightened and had several times run off. Here he was —whether caught or come back was all one to Hastie; the point was to
make an end of the business. As for the talk of deposing and electing captains, he hoped they were all free men and could attend to their own affairs. That was dust flung in their eyes, and so was the proposal to fight Harris. u He shall fight no one in this camp, I can tell him that,” said Hastie. “We had enough trouble to get his arms away from him, and we should look pretty fools- to give them back again. But if it’s excitement the gentleman is after, I can supply him with more perhaps than he cares about. For I have no intention to spend the remainder of my life in these mountains; already I have been too long, and I propose that he shall immediately tell us where that treasure is, or else immediately be shot. And there,” says he, producing his weapon, “there is the pistol that I mean to use.” “Come, I call you a man,” cries the master, sitting up and looking at th.e speaker with an air of admiration. “I didn’t ask you to call me anything.” returned Hastie, “which is it to be?”
“That's an idle question,” said the master, “Needs must when the devil drives. The truth is we are within easy walk of the place, and I will show it to you to-morrow.” “With that, as if all were quite settled, and settled exactly to his mind, he walked off to his tent, whither Becundra had preceded him. I cannot think of these last turns and wriggles of my old enemy except with admiration; scarce even pity is mingled with the sentiment, so strongly the man supported, so bravely resisted, his misfortunes. Even at that hour, when he perceived himself quite lost, when he saw he had but effected an exchange of enemies, and overthrown Harris to set Hastie up, no sign of weakness appeared in his behavior, and he withdrew to his tent, already determined (I must suppose) upon confronting the almost incredible hazard of his last expedient with the same easy, assured, genteel expression and demeanor as he might have left a theater withal to join a supper of the wits. But doubtless within, if we could sec there, his soul trembled. Early in the night word went about the camp that he was sick; and the first thing the next morning he called Hastie to his side and inquired most anxiously if he had any skill in medicine. As a matter of fact, this was a vanity of that fallen divinity student’s to which he had cunningly addressed himself. Hastie examined him; and being flattered,, ignorant and highly suspicious, knew not in the least whether the man was sick or malingering. In this gtate he went forth again to his companions, and (as the thing which would give himself the most consequence either way), announced that the patient was in a fair way to die. “For all that,” he added With an oath, “and if he bursts by the wayside, he must bring us this morning to the treasure.”
But there were several in the camp (Mountain among the number) whom this brutality revolted. They would have seen the master pistoled, or pistoled him themselves, without the smallest sentiment of pity; but they seem to have been touched by his gallant fight and unequivocal defeat the night before; perhaps, too, they were even already beginning to oppose themselves to their new leader; at least, they now declared that (if the man was sick) he should have a day's rest in spite of Hastie’s teeth. The next morning he was manifestly worse, and Hastie himself began to display something of humftlle concern, so easily does even the pretense of doctoring awaken sympathy. The third, the master called Mountain and Hastie to the tent, announced himself to be dying, gave them full particulars as to the position of the cache, and begged them to set out incontinently on the quest, so that they might see'if he deceived them, and (if they were at first unsuccessful) he should be able to correct their error. But here arose a difficulty qn which he doubtless counted. these men would trust another; nor consent to stay behind. On the other hand, although the master seemed extremely low, spoke scarce above a whisper and lay much of the time insensible, it was still possible it was a fraudulent sickness, and if all wept treasure hunting it might prove they had gono upon a wild goose chase and return to find their prisoner flown. They concluded, therefore, to 1 hang idling round the camp, alleg-
ing sympathy as their reason, s&d certainly, so mingled are our dispositions, several were sincerely (if not very deeply) affected by the natural peril of the man whom they callously designed to murder. —In the afternoon Hastie was called to the bedside to pray, which (incredible as it may appear) he did with great unction. About eight at might the wailing of Secnndra announced that all was over, and before ten the Indian, with a link stuck in the.ground, was toiling at the grave. Sunrise the next day beheld the masters burial, all hands attending with great decency of demeanor, and the body was laid in the earth wrapped in a fur robe with only his face un- • covered, which last was of waxy whiteness, and had the nostrils plugged according to some Oriental habit of Secundra’s. N 6 sooner was the grave filled than the lamentations of the Indian once more struck concern to every heart; and it appears this gang of murderers, so far from resenting his outcries, although both distressful and (in such a country) perilous to their own safety, roughly but kindly endeavored to console him. But if human nature is even in the worst of men occasionally kind, it is still and before all things greedy, and they soon turned from the mourn er to thei r own concerns. The cache of the treasure being hard bv. although yet unidentified, they concluded not to break e-amp. and the day passed on the part of the voyagers in unavailing exploration of the woods, Secundra the while lying on his master s grave. That night they placed no sentinel, but lay altogether about the fire, in the cutomary woman fashion, the heads outward, like the spokes of a wheel. Morning found them in the same dispositiori, only Pinkerton, who lay on Mountain’s right, between him ani) Hastie. had (in the hours of darkness) been secretly butchered, and there lay still wrapped as to his body in his mantle, but offering above that ungodly and horrific spectacle of the scalped head. The gang were that morniDg as pale as a company of phantoms, for the pertmneity of Indian war (or, to speak more correctly, Indian murder) was well known to all. But they laid the chief
blame on their unsentineled posture, and, fired with the neighborhood of the treasure, determined to continue where they were. Pinkerton was buried hard by the master; the survivors again passed the day in exploration and returned in a mingled humor of anxiety and hope, being partly certain they were now elose on the discovery of what they sought, and, on the- other hand, (on the return of darkness) were infected with the fear of Indians. Mountain was the first sentry; he declared that he neither slept nor yet sat down, but kept his watch with a perpetual and straining vigilance, and it was even with unconcern that (wnen he saw by the stars his time was up) he drew near the fire to waken his successor. This man (it was Hicks, the shoemaker,) slept.on the lee side of the circle, somewhat farther off in consequence of those to windward, and in a place darkened by the blowing smoke. Mountain stooped and took him by the shoulder; his hand was at once smeared by some adhesive wetness, and (the wind at the moment veering) the fire light shone upon the sleeper and showed him, like Pinkerton, dead and scalped. %heir fire they left still burning and their dead comrade unburied. All day they ceased not to flee, eating by the way from hand to mouth; and since they feared to sleep, continued to advance at random even in the hours of darkness. But the limit of man’s endurance is soon reached; when they rested at last it was to sleep profoundly, and when they woke it was to find that the enemy was still upon their heels, and death and mutilation had once more lessened and deformed the company. By this time they had become light headed, they had quite missed their path in the wilderness, their stores were already running low. With the further horrors it is superfluous that I should swell this narrative, already too prolonged. Suffice it to say that when at length a night gassed by innocuous and they might reathe again in the hope that the murderer had at last desisted from pursuit, Mountain and Secundra were alone. The trader was firmly persuaded their unseen enemy was some warrior of his own acquaintance and that he himself was spared by favor. The merev extended to Secundra he explained on the ground that the East Indian was thought to be insane, partly from the fact that in all the horrors of the flight and while others were casting away their food and weapons, Secundra continued to stagger forward with a mattock on his shoulfier; and partly because, in the last days and with a great degree of heat and fluency, he perpetually spoke with himself in his own language. But he was sane enough when it came to English. •'You think he will be gone quite away?” he asked, upon their blessed awakening in safety. “I pray God so, I believe su, I dare to believe so,” Mountain had replied almost with incoherence as he described the scene to me. And indeed he was so much distempered that until he met us, the next morning, he could scarce be certain whether he had dreamed, or whether it was a fact, that Secundra had thereupon turned directly about and returned without u word upon their foootprints, setting his face for these wintery and hungry solitudes, along a path whose every stage was milestoned with a mutilated corpse. (to bk continued.)
