Birds of Prey (78 page)

‘He is a long way off course.’ Aboli chuckled. ‘Perhaps Jiri and Matesi have deliberately misled him.’

‘Sweet Mary, of course those rascals have played the fool with him. Cumbrae bought more than he bargained for in the slave market. They will tweak his nose while they pretend to grovel and
call him Lordy.’ He smiled at the thought, then became serious again. ‘Do you think they may still be down there, or has the Buzzard murdered them already?’

‘No, he will keep them alive as long as he thinks they are of value to him. He is digging, so he is still hoping. My guess is that they are still alive.’

‘We must watch for them.’ For another hour they lay on the hilltop in silence, then Hal said, ‘The tide is turning. The strange frigate is swinging on her moorings.’ They
watched her bow and curtsy to the ebb with a stately grace, and then Hal spoke again. ‘Now I can see the name on her transom, but it is difficult to read. Is it the
Golden Swan
? The
Golden Hart
? No, I think not. ’Tis the
Golden Bough
!’

‘A fine name for a fine ship,’ said Aboli, and then he started, and pointed excitedly down at the network of trenches and pits amongst the trees. ‘There are black men coming
out of that ditch, three of them. Is that Jiri? Your eyes are sharper than mine.’

‘By heavens! So it is, and Matesi and Kimatti behind him.’

‘They are taking them to a hut near the water’s edge. That must be where they lock them up at night.’

‘Aboli, we must speak to them. I will go down as soon as it’s dark and try to reach their hut. What time will the moon rise?’

‘An hour after midnight,’ Aboli answered him. ‘But I will not let you go. I made a promise to Sukeena. Besides your white skin shines like a mirror. I will go.’

S
tripped naked, Aboli waded out from the far shore until the water reached his chin and struck out in a dog-paddle that made no splash and left
only a silent oily wake behind his head. When he reached the far shore, he lay in the shallows until he was certain the beach was clear. Then he crawled swiftly across the open sand and huddled
against the bole of the first tree.

One or two camp fires were burning in the grove, and from around them he heard the sound of men’s voices and an occasional snatch of song or a shout of laughter. The flames gave him enough
light to discern the hut where the slaves where imprisoned. Near the front of it he picked out the glow of a burning match on the lock of a musket, and from this he placed the single sentry, who
sat with his back to a tree covering the door of the hut.

They are careless, he thought. Only one guard, and he seems to be asleep.

He crept forward on hands and knees, but before he reached the back wall of the hut he heard footsteps and moved quickly to the shelter of another tree-trunk and crouched there. Two of the
Buzzard’s sailors came sauntering through the grove towards him. They were arguing loudly.

‘I’ll no’ sail with that little weasel,’ one declared. ‘He would cut a throat for the fun of it.’

‘So would you, Willy MacGregor.’

‘Aye, but I’d no’ be using a pizened blade, like Sam Bowles would.’

‘You’ll sail with whoever the Buzzard says you will, and that’s an end to your carping,’ his mate announced and paused beside the tree where Aboli crouched. He lifted his
petticoats and urinated noisily against the trunk. ‘By the devil’s nuggets, even with Sam Bowles as captain I’ll be happy enough to get away from this place. I left bonnie
Scotland to escape the coal pit, and here I am digging holes again.’ He shook the droplets vigorously from himself and the two walked on.

Aboli waited until they were well clear, and then crawled to the rear wall of the hut. He found that it was plastered with unburnt clay, but that chunks of this were falling from the framework
of woven branches beneath. He crawled slowly along the wall, gently probing each crack with a stalk of grass until he found a chink that went right through. He placed his lips to the opening and
whispered softly, ‘Jiri!’

He heard a startled movement on the far side of the wall, and a moment later a fearful whisper came back. ‘Is that the voice of Aboli, or is it his ghost?’

‘I am alive. Here feel the warmth of my finger – ’tis not the hand of a dead man.’

They whispered to each other for almost an hour before Aboli left the hut and crawled back down the beach. He slipped into the waters of the lagoon like an otter.

The dawn was painting the eastern sky the colours of lemons and ripe apricots when Aboli climbed the hill again to where he had left Hal. Hal was not in the cave, but when Aboli gave a soft
warbling bird-call, he stepped out from behind the hanging vines that screened the entrance, his cutlass in his hand.

‘I have news,’ said Aboli. ‘For once the gods have been kind.’

‘Tell me!’ Hal commanded eagerly, as he sheathed the blade. They sat side by side in the entrance to the cave from where they could keep the full sweep of the lagoon under their
eyes, while Aboli related in detail everything that Jiri had been able to tell him.

Hal exclaimed when Aboli described the massacre of the captain and men of the
Golden Bough
, and the way in which Sam Bowles had drowned the wounded like unwanted kittens in the shallows
of the lagoon. ‘Even for the Buzzard that is a deed that reeks of hell itself.’

‘Not all were killed,’ Aboli told him. ‘Jiri says that a large number of the survivors are locked up in the main hold of the
Golden Bough
.’ Hal nodded
thoughtfully. ‘He says too that the Buzzard has given the command of the
Golden Bough
to Sam Bowles.’

‘By heaven, that rogue has come up in the world,’ Hal exclaimed. ‘But all this could work to our advantage. The
Golden Bough
has become a pirate ship, and is now fair
game for us. However, it will be a dangerous enterprise to hunt the Buzzard in his own nest.’ He lapsed into a long silence, and Aboli did not disturb him.

At last Hal looked up and it was clear he had reached some decision. ‘I swore an oath to my father never to reveal that which I am now to show you. But circumstances have changed. He would
forgive me, I know. Come with me, Aboli.’

Hal led him down the back slope of the hill, and then turned towards the gorge of the river. They found a trail made by the baboons and scrambled down the steep side to the bottom. There Hal
turned upstream, and the cliffs became higher and steeper as they went. At places they were forced to enter the water and wade alongside the cliff. Every few hundred yards Hal paused to take his
bearings, until at last he grunted with satisfaction as he marked the dead tree. He waded along the lip of the bank until he reached it, then scrambled ashore and began to climb.

‘Where are you going, Gundwane?’ Aboli called after him.

‘Follow me,’ Hal answered, and Aboli shrugged and began to climb after him. He chuckled when Hal suddenly reached down and gave him a hand onto the narrow ledge that he had not been
able to see from below. ‘This has the smell of Captain Franky’s lair to it,’ he said. ‘The Buzzard would have saved himself a lot of work by searching here instead of
digging holes in the grove, am I right?’

‘This way.’ Hal shuffled along the ledge with his back to the cliff, and the hundred-foot drop that opened under his toes. When he reached the place where the ledge widened and the
cleft split the face, he paused to examine the rocks that blocked the entrance.

‘There have been no visitors, not even the apes,’ he said, with relief, and began to move the rocks out of the opening. When there was space to pass he crept through and groped in
the darkness for the flint and steel box and the candle that his father had placed on the ledge above head level. The tinder flared at the third stroke of the steel on the flint, and he lit the
candle stub and held it high.

Aboli laughed in the yellow light as he looked upon the array of canvas sacks and chests. ‘You are a rich man, Gundwane. But what use is all this gold and silver to you now? It will not
buy you a mouthful of food or a ship to carry it all away.’

Hal crossed to the nearest chest and opened the lid. The gold bars glinted in the candle-light. ‘My father died to leave me this legacy. I would rather have had him alive and me a
beggar.’ He slammed the lid, and looked back at Aboli. ‘Despite what you may think, I did not come here for the gold,’ he said. ‘I came for this.’ He kicked the powder
keg beside him. ‘And those!’ He pointed to the piles of muskets and swords that were stacked against the far wall of the cave. ‘And these also!’ He crossed to where the
sheaves and gantry were piled in a heap and picked up one of the coils of manila rope that he and his father had used. He tried the strength of the line by stretching a length of it over his back
and straining to break it with his arms and shoulders.

‘It is still strong, and has not rotted,’ he dropped the coil, ‘so we have all we need here.’

Aboli came to sit on the chest beside him. ‘So you have a plan. Then share it with me, Gundwane.’ He listened quietly as Hal laid it out for him, and once or twice he nodded or made
a suggestion.

T
hat same morning they set off for the base camp and by travelling fast, trotting and running most of the way, they reached it shortly after
noon. Sukeena saw them climbing the hill and came running down to meet them. Hal seized her and swung her high in the air, then checked himself and set her down with great care as though she were
woven of gossamer and might easily tear. ‘Forgive me, I treat you roughly.’

‘I am yours to treat as you will, and I will be happier for it.’ She clung to him and kissed him. ‘Tell me what you have found. Is there a ship in the lagoon?’

‘A ship. A fine ship. A beautiful ship, but not half as lovely as you.’

With Hal urging them they broke the camp and moved out at once. He and Aboli scouted ahead to clear the path and to lead the band on towards the lagoon.

When they reached the river and climbed down the gorge Hal left Big Daniel there and all the other seamen but Ned Tyler. They were unaware that the treasure cave was only a cable’s length
upstream. ‘Wait for me here, Master Daniel. I must take the others to a safe place. Hide yourselves well. I will return after dark.’

Aboli went with them, as Hal led the rest of the party up the far side of the gorge, then took them round the far side of the hills. They approached the sandbanks that separated the mainland
from the island, on which they had built the fireships.

By this time it was late afternoon, and Hal allowed them to rest there until nightfall. As soon as it was dark they all waded across the shallows, Hal carrying Sukeena on his back. As soon as
they reached the island they hurried deep into the thick bush, where they were safe from observation from the pirate encampment.

‘No fires!’ Hal cautioned them. ‘Speak only in whispers. Zwaantie, keep little Bobby from crying. No one to wander away. Keep close. Ned is in command when I am not here. Obey
him.’

Hal and Aboli went on across the island, through the bush to the beach facing the lagoon. In the area where they had built the fireships the undergrowth had sprung up again thickly. They groped
and searched beneath it until they located the two abandoned double-hulled vessels that had not been used on the attack on the
Gull
, and dragged them closer to the beach.

‘Will they still float?’ Aboli asked dubiously.

‘Ned made a good job of them, and they seem sturdy enough,’ Hal told him. ‘If we unload the combustibles, then they will float higher in the water.’

They stripped the ships of their cargo of dry tar-soaked wooden faggots. ‘That’s better,’ Hal said, with satisfaction. ‘They will be lighter and easier to handle
now.’ They concealed them again, covering them with branches.

‘There is still much to do before daylight.’ Hal led Aboli back to where most of Althuda’s party were already asleep. ‘Do not wake Sukeena,’ he warned her brother.
‘She is exhausted and must rest.’

‘Where are you going?’ Althuda asked.

‘There is no time to explain. We will return before dawn.’

Hal and Aboli crossed the channel to the mainland and then hurried back through the forest in the darkness, but when they reached the line of hills Hal stopped and said, ‘There is
something I have to find.’

He turned back towards the flickering lights of the pirate camp, moving slowly and pausing often to get his bearings, until at last he stopped at the base of a tall tree.

‘This is the one.’ With the point of his cutlass he probed the soft loamy earth around the roots. He felt it strike metal, and fell to his knees. He dug with his bare hands, then
lifted the golden chain and held it to catch the starlight.

‘’Tis your father’s Nautonnier seal.’ Aboli recognized it at once.

‘The ring also. And the locket with its portrait of my mother.’ Hal stood up and wiped the damp earth from the glass that had protected the miniature. ‘With these in my hands,
I feel a whole man again.’ He dropped the treasures into his leather pouch.

‘Let us go on, before we are discovered.’

It was after midnight when, once again, they scrambled down the side of the gorge and Big Daniel challenged them softly as they reached the riverbank.

‘’Tis me,’ Hal reassured him, and the others emerged from where they were hidden.

‘Stay here,’ Hal ordered. ‘Aboli and I will return shortly.’

The two set off upstream. Hal led the climb to the ledge and groped his way into the blackness of the cave. Working in the candle’s feeble light, they tied the cutlasses into bundles of
ten, then stacked them at the entrance. Hal emptied one of the chests of its precious contents, piling the gold bars disdainfully in a corner of the cave, and packed twenty pistols into the empty
chest.

Then they rolled the kegs of gunpowder, with the slow-match, out onto the narrow ledge, and set up the gantry and sheave blocks with the rope rove through. Hal scrambled back down the cliff.
When he reached the riverbank he whistled softly. Aboli lowered the bundles of weapons and the kegs down to him.