Chapter II: Act ONE

SCENE--_A small, barren coral island on the southern fringe of the
Malay Archipelago. The coral sand, blazing white under the full
glare of the sun, lifts in the right foreground to a long hummuck a
few feet above sea-level. A stunted coco palm rises from the center
of this elevation, its bunch of scraggly leaves drooping
motionlessly, casting a small circular patch of shadow directly
beneath on the ground about the trunk. About a hundred yards in the
distance the lagoon is seen, its vivid blue contrasting with the
white coral beach which borders its circular outline. The far
horizon to seaward is marked by a broad band of purplish haze which
separates the bright blue of the water from the metallic grey-blue
of the sky. The island bakes. The intensity of the sun’s rays is
flung back skyward in a quivering mist of heat-waves which distorts
the outlines of things, giving the visible world an intangible
eerie quality, as if it were floating submerged in some colorless
molten fluid._

_As the curtain rises_, ABEL _is discovered lying asleep, curled
up in the patch of shade beneath the coco palm. He is a runty,
under-sized boy of fifteen, with a shrivelled old face, tanned to
parchment by the sum. He has on a suit of dirty dungarees, man’s
size, much too large for him, which hang in loose folds from his
puny frame. A thatch of brown hair straggles in limp wisps from
under the peaked canvas cap he wears. He looks terribly exhausted.
His dreams are evidently fraught with terror, for he twitches
convulsively and moans with fright._ BUTLER _enters hurriedly,
panting, from the right, rear. He is a tall man of over middle age,
dressed in the faded remainder of what was once a brown suit. The
coat, the buttons of which have been torn off, hangs open,
revealing his nakedness beneath. A cloth cap covers his bald head,
with its halo of dirty thin grey hair. His body is emaciated. His
face, with its round, blue eyes, is weathered and cracked by the
sun’s rays. The wreck of a pair of heavy shoes flop about his bare
feet. He looks back cautiously, as if he were afraid of being
followed; then satisfied that he is not, he approaches the sleeping
boy, and bending down, puts his hand on_ ABEL’S _forehead_. ABEL
_groans and opens his eyes. He stares about furtively, as if
seeking someone whose presence he dreads to find._

ABEL--[_In a husky voice._] Where’s Capt’n and the rest, Butts?

BUTLER--[_In a hoarse, cracked whisper._]--On the beach--down there. [_He makes an exhausted gesture, right, and then sinks with a groan at the foot of the tree, leaning back against the trunk, trying vainly to hunch his long legs up so as to be completely in the shade._]

ABEL--What’re they doin’? [_With avid eyes._] They ain’t found no water yet?

BUTLER--[_Shaking his head, his eyes closing wearily._] No. How would they--when there ain’t any--not on this devil’s island--dry as a bone, my sonny--sand and sun--that’s all.

ABEL--[_Remonstratingly--his lips trembling a little._] Aw--maybe--you don’t know no different.

BUTLER--No. Might as well look the devil in the face, sonny. There’s no water here. Not a damn drop. No--nor a scrap to eat, neither. Only the damn sun. [_Weakly--touching the skin of his face with trembling fingers._] God! My face is like the raw inside of a wet hide! If it’d only rain! [_After a pause--kindly._] But how are you, eh? Had a good sleep?

ABEL--I was dreamin’ awful. [_With a sudden, shrill agony--his lips twitching._] I need a drink of water--something awful! My mouth’s burnin’ up. [_With tremulous pleading._] Say, ain’t you got ’nother drink left?--honest, ain’t you?

BUTLER--[_Looking around him cautiously._] Not so loud! [_Fixing his eyes sternly on the boy._] This is a dead secret, mind! You’ll swear you won’t blab--not to him?

ABEL--Sure, Butts, sure! Gawd strike me dead!

BUTLER--[_Takes a pint bottle from the hip-pocket of his pants. It is about half full of water._] He don’t know I’ve got this, remember! He--and the rest--they’d kill me like a dog--and you too, sonny--remember that!

ABEL--Sure! I ain’t goin’ to tell ’em, Butts. [_Stretching out his hands frenziedly._] Aw, give it to me, Butts! Give me a drink, for Christ’s sake!

BUTLER--No, you don’t! I’ll hold it for you. Only a few drops. You’d have it all down your throat. And we’ve got to be careful. It’s got to last ’til the ship comes past that’ll pick us up. That’s the only hope. [_Holding the bottle at arm’s length from the boy._] Hands down, now--or you don’t get a drop! [_The boy lets his hands drop to his sides._ BUTLER _puts the bottle carefully to his lips, and allows the boy two gulps--then snatches it away_.] That’s all now. More later. [_He takes one gulp himself, and making a tremendous effort of will, jerks the bottle from his lips, and corking it quickly, thrusts it back in his pocket and heaves a shuddering sigh._]

ABEL--Aw, more! Just another swaller----

BUTLER--[_Determinedly._] No!

ABEL--[_Crying weakly._] Yuh dirty mut!

BUTLER--[_Quietly._] There! Don’t get riled. It only makes you hotter--and thirstier. [_The boy sinks back exhausted and closes his eyes._ BUTLER _begins to talk in a more assured voice, as if the sip of water had renewed his courage_.] That’ll save us yet, that bit of water. A lucky notion of mine to think of it--at the last moment. They were just lowering the boots. I could hear you calling to me to hurry and come. They didn’t care if I went down with that stinking whaling ship or not, damn them! What did the dirty cook matter to them? But I thought of filling this bottle. It’d been lying there in the galley for two years almost. I’d had it on my hip, full of whiskey, that night in Oakland when I was shanghied. So I filled it out of a bucket before I ran to the boat. Lucky I did, son--for you and me--not for them--damn ’em!

ABEL--[_Struggling to a sitting posture, evidently strengthened by his drink._] Gee if the Old Man was wise you got it----

BUTLER--He won’t know--nor Horne, nor Cates, nor Jimmy Kanaka, neither. [_As if in self-justification._] Why should I tell ’em, eh? Did I ever get anything better than a kick or a curse from one of them? [_Vindictively._] Would they give it to me if they had it? They’d see me in hell first! And besides, it’s too late for them. They’re mad as hatters right now, the four of them. They ain’t had a drop since three nights back, when the water in the cask gave out and we rowed up against this island in the dark. Think of it, and them out walking and roasting in the sun all day, looking for water where there ain’t any. Wouldn’t you be crazy? [_Suddenly he laughs queerly._] Didn’t you hear them shouting and yelling like lunatics just before I came?

ABEL--I thought I heard something--on’y maybe I was dreamin’.

BUTLER--It’s them that are doing the dreaming. I was with them. I had to go. [_With rising anger._] He kicked me awake--and every time I tried to get away he beat me back. He’s strong yet--[_With threatening vindictiveness._]--but he can’t last long, damn him! [_Controlling himself, goes on with his story excitedly._] Well, we went looking for water--on this sand pile. Then Jimmy Kanaka saw a boat sunk half under down inside the reef--a Malay canoe, only bigger. They got down in her the best way they could, up to their waists in water. They thought there might be something to drink on her. I was trying to sneak off, scared to go in on account of sharks. All of a sudden they gave an awful yell. I thought they’d found something to drink and ran back. They was all standing about a box they’d forced open, yelling and cursing and out of their heads completely. When I looked I seen the box was full of all sorts of metal junk--bracelets and bands and necklaces that I guess the Malays wear. Nothing but brass and copper, and bum imitations of diamonds and things--not worth a dam; and there they were, shouting with joy and slapping each other on the back. And that hellion of a skipper shouts at me: “Get out of this! No share here for a stinking cook!” he yells. I didn’t say nothing but just picked up some of the stuff to make sure. Then I told him straight. “This ain’t gold. It’s brass and copper--not worth a damn.” God, he got wild! I had to run, or he’d knifed me--then and there. That was when I woke you up.

ABEL--And ain’t it worth nothin’, honest? How’d you know it ain’t?

BUTLER--D’you think I ain’t learned to know gold in my time? And polished enough copper and brass to know them, too? Just as if it was gold it’d do ’em any good! You can’t drink gold, can you? [_With sudden violence._] It serves ’em right, all that’s happened and going to happen. Kicks and smacks in the face if I even winked an eye--two years of it! And me shanghied when I was drunk--taken away from a good job and forced to cook the swill on a rotten whaler. Oh, I’ll pay him back for it! His damn ship is wrecked and lost to him--that’s the first of it. I’ll see him rot and die--and the three with him! But you and me’ll be saved! D’you know why I’ve let you go halves on this water, instead of hogging it all myself? It’s because you were the only one on board that didn’t treat me like a dog--and they kicked and beat you, too. We were in the same boat. And now we’ll get even! Them and their dirty box of junk! [_He sinks back, exhausted by this outburst_.]

ABEL--[_Suddenly, in a piteous voice._] Gee, I wisht I was back home again!

BUTLER--You’ll get back. We both will. [_He closes his eyes. After a pause--weakly._] When I close my eyes, everything gets to rocking under me, like I was in that open boat again. I won’t forget these four days in a hurry. Up and down---- Nothing but sun and water. [_They are both silent, leaning with closed eyes against the bole of the tree, panting exhaustedly. A murmur of men’s voices comes from the right, rear, and gradually get nearer._]

ABEL--[_Opening his eyes with a start._] Butts! I hear ’em comin’!

BUTLER--[_Listening, wide-eyed, for a moment._] Yes, it’s them. [_He gets to his feet weakly._] Come, let’s get out of this. [ABEL _staggers to his feet. They both move to the left._ BUTLER _shades his eyes with his hands and looks toward the beach_.] Look! They’re dragging along that box of junk with ’em, the damn fools! [_Warningly._] They’re crazy as hell. Don’t give ’em no chance to pick on you, d’you hear? They’d stop at nothing when they’re this way. [_There is a scuffling of heavy footsteps in the sand, and_ CAPTAIN BARTLETT _appears, followed by_ HORNE, _who in turn is followed by_ CATES _and_ JIMMY KANAKA. BARTLETT _is a tall, huge-framed figure of a man, dressed in a blue double-breasted coat, pants of the same material, and rubber sea-boots turned down from the knees. In spite of the ravages of hunger and thirst there is still a suggestion of immense strength in his heavy-muscled body. His head is massive, thickly covered with tangled, iron-grey hair. His face is large, bony, and leather-tanned, with a long aquiline nose and a gash of a mouth shadowed by a bristling grey mustache. His broad jaw sticks out at an angle of implacable stubbornness. Bushy grey brows overhang the obsessed glare of his sombre dark eyes._ SILAS HORNE _is a thin, parrot-nosed, angular old man, his lean face marked by a life-time of crass lusts and mean cruelty. He is dressed in grey cotton trousers, and a singlet torn open across his hairy chest. The exposed skin of his arms and shoulders and chest has been blistered and seared by the sun. A cap is on his head._ CATES _is squat and broad-chested, with thick, stumpy legs and arms. His square, stupid face, with its greedy pig’s eyes, is terribly pock-marked. He is gross and bestial, an unintelligent brute. He is dressed in dungaree pants and a dirty white sailor’s blouse, and wears a brown cap._ JIMMY KANAKA _is a tall, sinewy, bronzed young Islander. He wears only a loin cloth and a leather belt with a sheath-knife. The last two are staggering beneath the weight of a heavy inlaid chest. The eyes of the three white men are wild. They pant exhaustedly, their legs trembling with weakness beneath them. Their lips are puffed and cracked, their voices muffled by their swollen tongues. But there is a mad air of happiness, of excitement, about their scorched faces._]

BARTLETT--[_In a crooning, monotonous voice._] It’s heavy, I know, heavy--that chest. Up, bullies! Up with her! [_He flings himself in the shade, resting his back against the tree, and points to the sand at his feet._] Put ’er there, bullies--there where I kin see!

HORNE--[_Echoing his words mechanically._] Put’er there!

CATES--[_In thick, stupid tones._] Aye-aye, sir! Down she goes, Jimmy! [_They set the chest down._]

BARTLETT--Sit down, lads, sit down. Ye’ve earned your spell of rest. [_The three men throw themselves on the sand in attitudes of spent weariness. Bartlett’s eyes are fixed gloatingly on the chest. There is a silence suddenly broken by Cates, who leaps to a kneeling position with a choked cry._]

CATES--[_His eyes staring at the Captain with fierce insistence._] I want a drink--water! [_The others are startled into a rigid, dazzed attention._ HORNE’S _lips move painfully in a soundless repetition of the word. There is a pause. Then Bartlett strikes the side of his head with his fist, as if to drive this obsession from his brain._ BUTLER _and_ ABEL _stand looking at them with frightened eyes_.]

BARTLETT--[_Having regained control over himself, in a determined voice, deep-toned and menacing._] If ye speak that word ever again, Ben Cates--if ye say it once again--ye’ll be food for the sharks! Ye hear?

CATES--[_Terrified._] Yes, sir. [_He collapses limply on the sand again._ HORNE _and the_ KANAKA _relax hopelessly_.]

BARTLETT--[_With heavy scorn._] Are ye a child to take on like a sick woman--cryin’ for what ye know we’ve not got? Can’t ye stand up under a little thirst like a man? [_Resolutely._] There’ll be water enough--if ye’ll wait and keep a stiff upper lip on ye. We’ll all be picked up today. I’ll stake my word on it. This state o’ things can’t last. [_His eyes fall on the chest._] Ye ought to be singin’ ’stead o’ cryin’--after the find we’ve made. What’s the lack of water amount to--when ye’ve gold before you? [_With mad exultation._] Gold! Enough of it in your share alone to buy ye rum, and wine, and women, too, for the rest o’ your life!

CATES--[_Straightening up to a sitting posture--his small eyes staring at the box fascinatedly--in a stupid mumble._] Aye--aye--rum and wine!

BARTLETT--[_Half closing his eyes as if the better to enjoy his vision._] Yes, rum and wine and women for you and Horne and Jimmy. No more hard work on the dirty sea for ye, bullies, but a full pay-day in your pockets to spend each day o’ the year. [_The three strain their ears, listening eagerly. Even_ BUTLER _and_ ABEL _advance a step or two toward him, as if they, too, were half hypnotized_.] And Cates grumbling because he’s thirsty! I’d be the proper one to complain--if complainin’ there was to do! Ain’t I lost my ship and the work o’ two years with her? And what have ye lost, all three, but a few rags o’ clothes? [_With savage emphasis._] I tell ye, I be glad the Triton went down! [_He taps the box with his fingers._] They’s more in this than ever was earned by all the whalin’ ships afloat. They’s gold--heavy and solid--and diamonds and emeralds and rubies!--red and green, they be.

CATES--[_Licking his lips._] Aye, I seen ’em there--and emeralds be green, I know, and sell for a ton of gold!

BARTLETT--[_As if he hadn’t heard and was dreaming out loud to himself._] Rum and wine for you three, and rest for me. Aye, I’ll rest to home ’til the day I die. Aye, woman, I be comin’ home now for good. Aye, Nat and Sue, your father be comin’ home for the rest o’ his life! No more stinkin’ blubber on the deck. I’ll give up whalin’ like ye’ve always been askin’ me, Sarah. Aye, I’ll go to meetin’ with ye on a Sunday like ye’ve always prayed I would. We’ll make the damn neighbors open their eyes, curse ’em! Carriages and silks for ye--they’ll be nothin’ too good--and for Sue and the boy. I’ve been dreamin’ o’ this in my sleep for years. I never give a damn ’bout the oil--that’s just trade--but I always hoped on some voyage I’d pick up ambergris--a whole lot of it--and that’s worth gold!

HORNE--[_His head bobbing up from his chest--drowsily._] Aye, ambergris! It’s costly truck.

BUTLER--[_In a whisper to the boy--cautiously._] There! Wasn’t I right? Mad as hatters, all of ’em! Come on away!

ABEL--[_Staring at the Captain fascinatedly._] No. I wanter see ’em open it.

BUTLER--Look out! You’ll be going batty yourself, first thing you know. [_But he also stays._]

BARTLETT--[_His voice more and more that of a somnambulist._] It’s time I settled down to home with ye, Sarah, after twenty years o’ whalin’. They’s plenty o’ big trees on my place, bullies, and shade and green grass, and a cool wind off the sea. [_He shakes off the growing drowsiness and glares about him in a rage._] Hell’s fire! What crazy truck be I thinkin’ of? [_But he and the others sink back immediately into stupor. After a pause he begins to relate a tale in a droning voice._] Years ago, when I was whalin’ out o’ New Bedford--just after I got my first ship, it was--a man come to me--Spanish-looking, he was--and wanted to charter my ship and me go shares. He showed me a map o’ some island off the coast of South America somewhere. They was a cross marked on it where treasure had been buried by the old pirates. That was what he said. But I was a fool. I didn’t believe him. I didn’t see’s I could take a chance. He got old Scott’s schooner--finally. She sailed and never was heard o’ since. But I’ve never forgot him and his map. And often I’ve thought if I’d ’a’ went that vige---- [_He straightens up and shouts with aggressive violence._] But here she be! Run right into it--without no map nor nothin’. Gold and diamonds and all--all them things he said was there--there they be in front o’ our eyes! [_To the now alert_ JIMMY.] Open ’er up, Jimmy!

JIMMY--[_Getting up--in his soft voice._] Aye, Captain. [_He reaches down to lift the lid._]

BARTLETT--[_A sudden change of feeling comes over him, and he knocks_ JIMMY’S _arm aside savagely_.] Hands off, ye dog! I’m takin’ care o’ this chest, and no man’s hand’s goin’ to touch it but mine!

JIMMY--[_Stepping back docilely--in the same unmoved, soft tone._] Aye, Captain. [_He squats down to the left of the chest._]

BARTLETT--[_Seeming suddenly to notice the cook for the first time._] So there you be, eh? [_His voice growing thick with rage._] I ain’t forgot what ye said down by the shore there! Lucky for ye I didn’t catch ye then! “Brass and copper--junk,” ye said--“not gold! Not worth a damn,” ye said! Ye blasted son o’ a liar! No share for ye! I’ll not forget. And keep your distance o’ me if ye want your hide! [_Looking at_ ABEL.] Ye’ve been tellin’ that boy your lies too, I kin tell by the look o’ him. [_Sternly._] Come here, boy!

ABEL--[_Advances with faltering steps._] Y-yes, s-sir?

BARTLETT--Open up that chest! Open it up, ye brat! [_With a desperate movement of fear_ ABEL _reaches down and flings open the lid of the chest._ _As he does so_, BARTLETT’S _huge hand fastens on the collar of his coat, and holds him with face bent over the box_. HORNE, CATES, _and_ JIMMY KANAKA _pull themselves close, their necks craning for a look inside_. BUTLER _takes a few steps toward them_.]

BUTLER--[_In a low uncertain tone._] Maybe I was wrong, Captain Bartlett, sir.

BARTLETT--[_Shaking the terror-stricken boy._] What d’ye see there, ye little swab? What d’ye see there?

ABEL--Aw--leggo--I’m chokin’!

BARTLETT--[_Grimly._] Ye’ll choke in earnest if ye don’t answer me. What d’ye see? Is it gold? Answer me--is it gold?

ABEL--[_Stutteringly._] Yes--sure--gold--I see it!

BARTLETT--[_Thrusts him away. The boy staggers and falls to the sand._ BARTLETT _turns to_ BUTLER _triumphantly_.] Ye see, ye liar? Gold! Gold! Even a child can tell it at a look. [_With a sombre menace in his tone._] But ye--don’t believe--do ye?

BUTLER--[_Frightenedly._] Maybe I was wrong, sir. I--didn’t--look very careful.

BARTLETT--Come here! [_He stands up, his back against the tree._] Come here!

BUTLER--Yes, sir. [_But he looks about him shiftily, as if to run away._]

BARTLETT--Jimmy! [_The_ KANAKA _leaps to his feet_.] Knife him, Jimmy, if he tries to run.

JIMMY--[_His hand goes to his knife, his dark eyes lighting up with savagery--in his soft voice._] Aye, Captain!

BARTLETT--[_To the trembling cook._] Come here!

BUTLER--[_Goes to him with the courage of desperation._] Yes, sir.

BARTLETT--[_Pointing to the contents of the chest._] Is it gold--or not?

BUTLER--If I can feel of one----

BARTLETT--Pick one up.

BUTLER--[_Picks up a heavy anklet encrusted with colored glass, looks at it for a minute--then feigning great assurance._] I was wrong, Captain. It’s gold all right enough--worth all kinds of money, I bet.

BARTLETT--[_With mad triumph._] Ha! Ye’ve come to your senses, have ye? Too late, ye swab! No share for ye! And here’s to teach ye for lyin’ to me before! [_His fist jerks out from his side, and_ BUTLER _is knocked sprawling on the sand, where he lies groaning for a moment, the anklet still clutched in his hand. The boy gives a gasp of fright and scampers off, left._]

BARTLETT--That’ll learn ye! [_He sits down beside the chest. The others crouch close. Bartlett shoves in both of his hands--in a tone of mad gloating._] Gold! Better’n whaling, ain’t she, boys? Better’n ambergris, even if I ever had luck to find any! [BUTLER _staggers to his feet. He examines the anklet with contemptuous scorn and even bites it to make sure. Then he edges stealthily toward the left. A sudden transformation comes over his face and he glowers at the Captain with hatred, his features distorted with fury._]

JIMMY KANAKA--[_Pointing to_ BUTLER.] He got him, Captain!

BARTLETT--[_Glancing at the cook with contemptuous scorn._] Sneakin’ away with that piece o’ the gold, be ye? Ye thievin’ swine! Ye know right enough it’s gold now, don’t ye? Well, ye kin keep it--for your share for speakin’ the truth that once.

HORNE--[_His cupidity protesting._] Don’t give it to him, sir! It’s so much the less for us that worked for it when he did nothin’!

BUTLER--[_Overcome by hysterical rage--stammering._] Who asked you for it--eh? Who--wants the dam thing? Not me! No! You damned lunatics! You oughter all be in the asylum? [_Holding the anklet out contemptuously._] Gold? Ha-ha! This junk? I just bit it to make sure. Gold? Brass, that’s what--and pieces of glass! Junk! Not worth a dam. Here! Take it! You can have it! [_He flings it on the sand before them._ BARTLETT _snatches it up protectingly_.]

BARTLETT--[_In a frenzy._] Jimmy! [_But_ BUTLER _runs off left with a terrified cry_. JIMMY _springs to his feet and stands with his hand on his knife, waiting for a further order_.]

JIMMY--[_Eagerly._] I go catch--go stick him, Captain?

BARTLETT--[_Pausing--with a frown._] No. They’s time enough for that--if need be. Sit down. [JIMMY _sits down again with a childish air of sulking_. BARTLETT _stares at the treasure, continuing to frown, as if Butler’s action had made him uneasy, bewildered and confused him. He mutters half to himself._] Queer! Queer! He threw it back as if ’twas a chunk of mud! He knew--and yet he said he didn’t want it. Junk, he called it--and he knows it’s gold! He said ’twas gold himself a second back. He’s queer. Why would he say junk when he knows it’s gold? D’ye think--he don’t believe?

HORNE--He was mad because you knocked him down.

BARTLETT--[_Shaking his head grimly._] It ain’t the first time I’ve knocked him down; but he never spoke up to me--like that--before. No, it’s somethin’ else is wrong with him--somethin’.

HORNE--No share for him, you told him sir. That’s what wrong with him.

BARTLETT--[_Again shaking his head._] No. His eyes--It’s somethin’ he’s got in his head--somethin’ he’s hidin’! His share--maybe he thinks he’ll get his share anyway, in spite o’ us! Maybe he thinks his share wouldn’t be all he wants! Maybe he thinks we’ll die o’ hunger and thirst before we get picked up--and that he’ll live--and then--he’ll come in for the whole chestful! [_Suddenly springing to his feet in a rage, convinced that he has found the truth._] Hell’s fire! That’s it, bullies! That’s his sneakin’ plan! To watch us die--and steal it from us!

CATES--[_Rising to his knees and shaking his hand threateningly above his head._] Tell Jimmy to knife him, sir! Tell Jimmy--I ain’t got a knife, or I’d do it myself. [_He totters weakly to his feet._]

JIMMY--[_Eagerly._] You speak, I stick him, Captain. I stick boy, too.

CATES--[_Weakening._] I’m weak, but I kin do for him yet. I’m weak---- [_His knees sag under him. He pleads piteously._] If I’d only a drink to put some strength in me! If I’d only a sup o’ water, I’d do for him! [_Turning, as if to stagger down toward the beach._] There must be water. Let’s look again. I’ll go look---- [_But the effort he makes is too much for his strength and he falls to the sand, panting with open mouth._]

BARTLETT--[_Summoning his strength--sternly._] Put a clapper on that jaw of yours, Cates, or I’ll do it for ye!

CATES--[_Blubbering._] If we don’t find water--he’ll watch us die.

JIMMY--[_Insinuatingly._] Better me knife cook fella--kill boy, too!

BARTLETT--Will killin’ ’em give us drink, ye fools? [_After a pause, he shakes his head as if to drive off some thought, and mutters._] No more o’ that! [_Suddenly, in a tone of sharp command._] No more o’ that, I say! We’re keepin’ no right watch for ships. Go aloft on that tree, Jimmy--and damn quick! Take a look and see if ye can sight a sail. [KANAKA _shins quickly up the bole of the coco palm to the top and looks out on all sides of him. The others rise painfully to their feet and gaze up at him with awakened hope._]

JIMMY--[_Suddenly, in a glad voice._] I see um--see sail, Captain.

CATES--[_Waving his arms frenziedly._] Sail--ho!

JIMMY--Look plenty like trade schooner, Captain. She no change course she fetch plenty close by here. She make full sail, she got plenty fella wind out there, she come quick.

HORNE--[_Clapping_ CATES _on the back_.] Headin’ straight for us, Cates, d’you hear?

BARTLETT--How far d’ye reckon she be?

JIMMY--She’s five, six fella mile, Captain.

BARTLETT--Come down. [_The Islander slides down._ BARTLETT _exclaims exultantly_.] Didn’t I tell ye? In the nick o’ time. When she makes in close we’ll go down to the reef and yell and wave at her. They’ll see! The luck’s with us today! [_His eyes fall on the treasure and he starts._] But now--what’s to do with this chest--the gold?

HORNE--[_Quickly._] You ain’t going to tell them on the schooner about it?

CATES--They’d claim to share with us.

HORNE--More like they’d steal it and knife us in the bargain. I know the kind on them schooners.

BARTLETT--[_Scornfully._] D’ye think I’m cracked? No, we’ll bury it here.

CATES--[_Regretfully._] Leave it behind for anyone to find?

BARTLETT--We’ll bury it deep, where hell itself won’t find it--and we’ll make a map o’ this island. [_He takes a sheet of paper and a stub of pencil from his pocket--pointing to the foot of the tree._] Dig a hole here--you, Horne and Jimmy--and dig it deep. [_The two head down and commence to hollow out the sand with their hands._ BARTLETT _draws on the paper_.] There’s the lagoon--and the reef--and here’s this tree--the only one on the island--’twould be hard to miss. [_To_ CATES, _who is peering over his shoulder_.] And here where the tree is, d’ye see, Cates, I’ll make a cross where the gold is hid.

HORNE--[_Over his shoulder, without ceasing his work._] How d’ye know the lay o’ this island--to find it again?

BARTLETT--By the last reckonin’ o’ the Triton’s. It’s writ on a page I tore from the log-book. And from there we headed due north in the boat, unless the compass lied--four days--a hundred and fifty miles, I reckon. [_Exultantly._] Oh, all hell’d not stop me from findin’ this place again when I know the gold’s here. Let us once get home and I’ll fit out a small schooner the four of us can sail, and we’ll come back here to dig it up. It won’t be long, I swear to ye!

HORNE--[_Straightening up._] This deep enough, sir?

BARTLETT--It looks to be.

JIMMY--[_Who has straightened up and is looking off left--suddenly points excitedly._] He look, Captain! Cook fella, he look here! Boy he look, too! They look plenty too much, Captain! [_All four stand staring off at_ BUTLER _and the boy, whose presence on the island they have forgotten in their mad excitement_.]

CATES--[_In stupid dismay._] They’ll know where it’s hid, sir!

HORNE--They’ll tell ’em on the schooner!

CATES--[_Wildly._] We’ve got to do for ’em, Captain! Gimme your knife, Jimmy--your knife---- [_He stumbles toward the Islander, who pushes him aside brusquely, looking questioningly toward the Captain._]

BARTLETT--[_Who has been standing motionless, as if stunned by this forgotten complication--slowly._] There they be watchin’ us, the sneakin’ dogs! Sit down, an’ they won’t see. [_They all squat in the sand._] I was forgettin’ they was here. [_Striking his knee with clenched fist._] We’ve got to do somethin’ damn quick! That schooner’ll be up soon where they kin sight her--and they’ll wave and yell then--and she’ll see ’em!

HORNE--And good-bye to the gold for us!

JIMMY--[_Eagerly._] You say fella word, Captain, me kill um quick. They no make plenty cry for schooner! They keep damn still plenty too much!

BARTLETT--[_Looking at the Islander with mad cunning but replying only to_ HORNE.] Aye, it’s good-bye to the gold, Horne. That scum of a cook--he’s made a mock o’ us--sayin’ it wasn’t gold when he knew it was--he’ll tell ’em--he’ll get joy o’ tellin’ ’em!

HORNE--And that scrub of a boy--he’s no better. He’ll be in with him neck and crop.

CATES--[_Hoarsely._] Knife ’em--and be done with it--I say!

BARTLETT--Or, if they don’t tell the schooner’s skipper it’ll only be because they’re plannin’ to come back themselves--before we kin--and dig it up. That cook--there’s somethin’ queer in his mind--somethin’ he was hidin’--pretendin’ not to believe. What d’ye think, Horne?

HORNE--I think--time’s gettin’ short--and talkin’ won’t do no good. [_Insinuatingly._] They’d do for us soon enough if _they_ was able.

BARTLETT--Aye, murder was plain in his eyes when he looked at me.

HORNE--[_Lowering his voice to a whisper._] Tell Jimmy--Captain Bartlett--is what I say!

BARTLETT--It’s agin the law, Silas Horne!

HORNE--The law don’t reach to this island.

BARTLETT--[_Monotonously._] It’s against the law a captain’s sworn to keep wherever he sails. They ain’t refused duty--nor mutinied.

HORNE--Who’ll know they ain’t? They’re trying to steal what’s yours--that’s worse’n mutiny. [_As a final persuasion._] And Jimmy’s a nigger--and under no laws. And he’s stronger’n you are. You couldn’t stop ’im.

BARTLETT--Aye--I couldn’t prevent----

JIMMY--[_Eagerly._] I fix um, Captain, they no tell! [BARTLETT _doesn’t answer, but stares at the treasure_. HORNE _makes violent motions to_ JIMMY _to go. The Islander stares at his master’s face. Then, seeming to read the direct command there, he grunts with satisfaction, and pulling his knife from it’s sheath, he goes stealthily off left._ CATES _raises himself on his haunches to watch the Islander’s movements_. HORNE _and_ BARTLETT _sit still in a strained immobility, their eyes on the chest_.]

CATES--[_In an excited whisper._] I see ’em! They’re sittin’ with their backs this way! [_A slight pause._] There’s Jimmy. He’s crawlin’ on his hands behind ’em. They don’t notice--he’s right behind--almost atop o’ them. [_A pause._ CATES _gives a fiendish grunt_.] Ugh! [BUTLER’S _muffled cry comes from the left_.] Right in the middle of the back! The cook’s done! The boy’s runnin’! [_There is a succession of quick screams from the boy, the padding of feet running toward them, the fall of a body, and the boy’s dying groan._]

HORNE--[_With satisfaction._] It’s done, sir!

BARTLETT--[_Slowly._] I spoke no word, remember that, Silas Horne!

HORNE--[_Cunningly._] Nor me neither, sir. Jimmy took it on himself. If blame there is--and who’d blame him for it?--it’s on him.

BARTLETT--[_Gloomily._] I spoke no word! [JIMMY _returns noiselessly from the left_.]

JIMMY--[_Grinning with savage pride._] I fix um fella plenty, Captain. They no tell. They no open mouth plenty too much!

CATES--[_Maudlinly._] You’re a man, Jimmy--a man with guts to him--even if you’re a---- [_He babbles incoherently._]

JIMMY--[_As the Captain does not look at him._] I go climb fella tree, Captain? I make look for schooner?

BARTLETT--[_Rousing himself with an effort._] Yes--go up. [_The Islander climbs the tree._]

HORNE--[_Getting to his feet--eagerly._] Where away, Jimmy?

JIMMY--She come, Captain, she come plenty quick.

HORNE--[_Looking in the direction_ JIMMY _indicates_.] I kin see her tops’ls from here, sir. Look!

BARTLETT--[_Getting to his feet--stares out to sea._] Aye! There she be--and makin’ towards us fast. [_In a flash his sombre preoccupation is gone, and he is commander once more. He puts the anklet in his hand into his coat pocket--harshly._] Come down out o’ that? They’s work to do. [JIMMY _clambers down_.] Did ye leave--them--lyin’ in plain sight on the open sand?

JIMMY--Yes. I no touch um, Captain.

BARTLETT--Then ye’ll touch ’em now. Go, bury ’em, cover ’em up with sand. And mind ye make a good job o’ it that none’ll see. Jump now!

JIMMY--[_Obediently._] I go, Captain. [_He hurries off left._]

BARTLETT--Down to the reef with ye, Horne! [_Giving the prostrate_ CATES _a kick_.] Up out o’ that, Cates! Go with Horne, and when ye see the schooner hull up, wave to ’em, and yell like mad, d’ye hear?

HORNE--Aye, aye, sir!

BARTLETT--I’ll stay here and bury the gold. It’s best to be quick about it! They may turn a spyglass on us when they raise the island from deck! Off with ye! [_He gives_ CATES _another kick_.]

CATES--[_Groaning._] I’m sick! [_Incoherently._] Can’t--report for duty--this watch. [_With a shout._] Water!

BARTLETT--[_Contemptuously._] Ye dog! Give him a hand, Horne.

HORNE--[_Putting a hand under his shoulder._] Up, man! We’re to signal the schooner. There’ll be water on board o’ her--barrels of it!

CATES--[_Aroused, scrambles to his feet, violently shaking off Horne’s hand._] Water aboard o’ her! [_His staring eyes catch the schooner’s sails on the horizon. He breaks into a staggering run and disappears down toward the beach, right rear, waving his arms wildly and shouting._] Ahoy! Ahoy! Water! [HORNE _walks out quickly after him_.] [_Left alone_, BARTLETT, _after a quick glance around, sinks on his knees beside the chest and shoves both hands into it. From the chest comes a metallic clink as he fingers the pieces in his hands gloatingly._] Ye’re safe now! There’s none to tell left livin’! He’s dead--damn him!--that lied about ye. And ye’ll rest safe here till I come back for ye! [_In a dreaming tone, his eyes fixed before him in an ecstatic vision._] No more whalin’ on the dirty seas! Rest to home! Gold! I’ve been dreamin’ o’ it all my life! Aye--we’ll rest now, Sarah! Your father be a rich man, Nat and Sue! [_Shaking himself--savagely._] Ye fool! What drivel be ye talkin’? Loosin’ your senses, be ye? Time ye was picked up! Lucky! [_He shoves down the lid and places the chest in the hole. He pushes the sand in on top of it, whispering hoarsely._] Lay safe, d’ye hear. For I’ll be back for ye! Aye--in spite of hell I’ll dig ye up again! [_The voices of_ HORNE _and_ JIMMY _can be heard from the distance shouting as_

[_The Curtain Falls_]