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The Spanish Galleon. Charles Sumner Seeley
Читать онлайн.Название The Spanish Galleon
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isbn 4064066214937
Автор произведения Charles Sumner Seeley
Жанр Языкознание
Издательство Bookwire
Charles Sumner Seeley
The Spanish Galleon
Being an account of a search for sunken treasure in the Caribbean Sea
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4064066214937
Table of Contents
CHAPTER VI. “DUKE 2D, PROPERTY OF H. SENLIS.”
CHAPTER IX. THE GALLEON FOUND.
CHAPTER XI. ALICE AND HER FATHER.
CHAPTER XIII. THE ABANDONED PLANTATION.
CHAPTER XIV. A REMARKABLE CURE.
CHAPTER XVII. THE WAVES IN HARNESS.
CHAPTER XIX. THE PEARL-FISHERS.
CHAPTER XX. THE CAPTAIN OF THE GANG.
CHAPTER XXII. THE CAPTAIN’S FATE.
CHAPTER XXIII. TREASURE TROVE.
CHAPTER I.
THE ISLAND.
MY name is William Morgan, and I am a lineal descendant of that William Morgan who was a brother of the famous Welsh buccaneer, Henry Morgan. I mention this in no spirit of pride—quite the contrary—but because some may choose to trace in these adventures evidence of hereditary tendencies.
On the eighteenth day of August, 1886, as the sun was setting, I was floating in the Caribbean Sea. You may mark the place on the map as being approximately N. latitude 15°, and W. longitude 62° from Greenwich; or in other words, between one hundred and two hundred miles west of the French island of Martinique. A chest, well corded but partly filled with water, was all that kept my head above the surface. Without food or drink I had been floating thus since shortly after sunrise of the previous morning. At that time the sloop in which I was voyaging, capsized and sunk in a squall, drowning the negro captain and owner, and his son, who constituted the crew. In this little vessel I was bound for a small uninhabited island known as “Key Seven,” which was in plain sight when the disaster occurred. For two days and a night, without sleep or refreshment, I had been struggling to push the floating chest toward this land.
Now as the sun was just about to sink exactly behind the trees on the island, I was so near that the sound of the waves on the beach reached my ear. The tide would soon turn, and I must gain a foothold on the sand before the ebb got fairly under way, or continue the struggle another night. My hands and arms were sore in places from chafing in the salt water against the chest, every muscle ached, cramps and pains shot incessantly through every limb, my eyes were on fire, the wolf of hunger gnawed at my stomach, my lips and mouth and throat were parched and dry. The fever of utter exhaustion and fatigue drove delirious dreams and fancies through my aching brain. Still on, on, on, compelling the unwilling and rebellious muscles to their automatic work, made sickening to the very soul by long continued repetition, I fought until at last my feet rested on the bottom. One final struggle and the wave left me with the chest upon the beach. But it was not until the last ounce of energy had been expended, that I staggered and fell on the dry sand among the parched bladder-weed that streaked the shore. There I lay for half an hour, completely exhausted.
When I rose to secure the chest by dragging it a little way—a very little way—beyond the reach of the waves, the sun had just sunk, night with tropical suddenness had fallen on the scene, and the stars burst out in all their brilliancy in the clear dark vault of heaven.
Here then I was at last at the end of my voyage, but in what a plight. Food and drink and sleep I must have, and that speedily, or death would shortly claim me. It was starlight, but too dark to see more than the dim outlines of things. I lay down again on the warm dry sand and tried to think what was best to do; but I could not think, for my dry tongue rattled in my mouth and my head ached as though it would burst with every feeble throb of the heart.
As I lay with my face turned toward the sea, listening in despair to the soft, monotonous lip-lipping of the waves, varied at regular intervals by the long, foaming crash of the swell as it broke and swept up the sands, there came presently in the eastern sky a faint silvery glow, and the full moon stole up from out the glistening water until it shone full and broad, making a burnished path down to the shore at my feet. No doubt, this saved my life. In an hour it was almost as light as day. I untied my shoes, which I had fastened to the chest while swimming, put them on to guard my feet, and started in search of drinking-water. Fortunately it was close at hand. A little brook flowed down to the sea not more than forty rods to the north of my landing-place. Had I been in condition to remember anything, I should have known this fact, because while floating in the sea I noted this stream by the low foliage that marked its course near the beach, and longed for a draught of the water which I knew must be there. Stumbling along the sands, I reached the stream, and lying down, buried my face in the clear, sweet water, and drank until I could drink