The Pirate Story Megapack. R.M. Ballantyne

We found nothing, however; no gold or silver, no precious stones; nothing, in fact, but a rusty, demoralized, and depraved old cannon, that looked as though it had been cast for the Spanish Armada. The old piece is over there in the house, preserved as a curiosity.”

      “And so you didn’t get anything?” said Bruce, in a tone of disappointment.

      “Not a thing, except the cannon,” said the governor; “and I leave you to imagine my disappointment. I was at first sure of making my fortune, retiring from the island at once, and going home to live on my wealth. But I’m afraid I shall have to postpone that for a long time.”

      “Do you suppose there ever was any treasure on board of her?” asked Arthur.

      “Well, yes. I not only suppose so, but I almost feel certain that at one time there was a good deal of gold and silver aboard of this very ship. I’ve examined her, and studied her very attentively. Look at her now for yourselves. Notice how high that stern is. I don’t think those high sterns were used later than the days of Queen Elizabeth. It was in just such ships as this that the Spaniards brought their gold and silver across the water. In fact, boys, I believe that this is neither more nor less than a Spanish galleon. Believe? in fact I know it. For on that old gun that I spoke of, there is a cast that’s precisely the same that you see on the old Spanish dollars—the arms of Spain.

      “Now I’ll tell you what the idea is that I’ve formed about this ship. You know that in the days of Elizabeth the Spanish Main swarmed with buccaneers, who seized the treasure ships whenever they could. Among these, English sailors were the worst. You know that well enough. Well, my idea is, that some of these buccaneers seized this very galleon, plundered her of everything, and let her go. I don’t think that a Spanish ship would have been likely to be driven up here from the West Indies, or to drift here. I think it most likely that she was seized and brought here.”

      “But perhaps,” said Bart, “the buccaneers were lost in her.”

      “It’s possible, certainly,” said the governor, “but I don’t quite think it. I think, if there had been any gold left, some of it would have been left hereabouts in the hull. No. I think it most likely that she has been plundered by the buccaneers, who then let her go,—for a big, clumsy ship, like this, was no good for their purposes. They may have let the Spanish sailors go in her,—not unlikely; and if so, the poor wretches left their bones in these sands.”

      “But what would buccaneers come here for?” asked Bart,—”so far to the north. I thought they all lived around the Spanish Main.”

      “Ah,” said the governor, “that brings up the very point that proves my whole theory.”

      CHAPTER IV.

      “You must be aware, in the first place,” said the governor, “that over the whole Atlantic coast of Nova Scotia there are traditions of the buccaneers. There is one place, however, where these traditions seem to have a centre, and that is Mahone Bay. The people there have handed these traditions on from father to son ever since the country was settled; and the belief at this time, is as strong as ever, if not stronger. The only change that they have made is in the name. They do not speak of the buccaneers but of one certain man, whose name all over America seems to have lent itself to every tradition that the past has handed down about pirates and piracy. This is Captain Kidd. So at Mahone Bay the traditions all refer to him.

      “Now I don’t believe that these traditions originated in nothing, but that they grew out of actual facts. The buccaneers, when they infested the Spanish Main, needed some place in which to store their plunder. They wanted a place which was at once safe from pursuit, and so remote that the Spaniards would never think of following them. Well, this they could gain by sailing far enough to the north, and Nova Scotia naturally seemed the best stopping-place; first, because it seemed to them like the last point of the coast of the main land, and secondly, because it was convenient for a run over to Europe. Besides, Nova Scotia afforded a greater number of first-rate harbors than could be found in any part, not only of America, but of the world. It was therefore out of the way of pursuit and discovery, and the best place that they could wish to have.

      “Well, now, among all the harbors that line the coast of Nova Scotia, there isn’t any that can be compared to Mahone Bay for the purposes of the buccaneers. Once in it, and discovery or capture is next to impossible. The bay is spacious and deep, without shoals or currents, and, above all, dotted with three hundred and sixty-five islands of every sort and size. Among these a hiding-place could be found, that for safety and seclusion could not be equalled anywhere else. And what are the facts? Why, the tradition of the country ever since asserts that this very bay was a chosen haunt of pirates in the old piratical days.

      “And what’s more,” continued the governor, “this tradition isn’t vague and general, but it’s direct and specific. It points to some one place there,—one of those islands in particular that is distinguished from all the other islands. I don’t know the name of it; I don’t know that I ever heard it; but I do know that there is such an island,—one of those three hundred and sixty-five, that is pointed out and well known as the place frequented by the buccaneers. Everybody says, that on this island they lived, and that in this island, deep down,—under the level of the sea, in fact,—the buccaneers buried the plunder of the Spanish Main.

      “Of course, as I said, they don’t speak of the buccaneers, but of Captain Kidd. They call it Kidd’s treasure. But it’s all the same. The fact remains whatever changes mere names may undergo. Now, mind you, I don’t say that there’s any treasure there now,—it may have been all dug up by the very men who buried it, or by others who knew about it. It’s a long time since it was buried, and Mahone Bay had no settlements for generations. At the same time it’s quite probable that it may be there still; and I, for my part, shouldn’t be a bit surprised to hear at any time that some lucky fellow has got hold of it all.”

      “I suppose you never went to Mahone Bay yourself,” said Bart.

      “Well, no,” said the governor. “The fact is, I never thought much about it until lately, after the old galleon set me speculating about it; and then I remembered old things that I had heard. Go there?—O, no!—I’m too old. If I were a young man, without a family, I’d make a dash at it; but now it’s impossible. I’d have to give up my situation. O, no! I dare say somebody’ll make his fortune there one day; but that’ll never be my luck. And as for treasure, I believe that there’s lots of it deep under these sands, all about, if one only knew where to dig—but that’s the difficulty.

      “And so, you see, that’s the conclusion I’ve come to—putting this and that together. This is a Spanish galleon. Here she is,—ever so far out of the course which the treasure ships of the Indies usually followed,—up here in these seas, in close proximity to the most notorious haunt of the old buccaneers. Do you suppose they had nothing to do with this? Of course they had—everything. In those days no ship in these waters could have escaped their eyes, much less a big Spanish ship full of gold and silver. Mark my words. As I said at first, they captured her, brought her here, unloaded her, buried her gold and her silver in Mahone Bay somewhere—on that island that I spoke of, and then let the ship go.”

      This notion of the governor’s might have been critically examined and utterly disproved by a competent person; but for such a task the boys were too ignorant and inexperienced. The firm belief of the governor in his extraordinary theory affected every one of the boys most profoundly; nor could any of them see a reason why it should not be perfectly true in every particular. Every word that he had uttered sank deep into their souls, and every one of them felt himself filled with an irresistible desire to hurry off at once to Mahone Bay, and seek for the island where the buccaneers had buried the plunder of the Spanish Main.

      On the present occasion they poured upon him a torrent of questions of all sorts, every one of which showed how attentively they had listened to his story, and how eager the curiosity was which they all felt. The governor answered everything with the minuteness and the exactness that characterize a man when he finds that his own particular hobby meets with respectful appreciation from others.

      At length they turned back to the house, talking