Date: Wed, 8 Jun 2005 23:27:36 -0400
From: edcwriter@yahoo.com
Subject: FOR GOD & COUNTRY - 8

FOR GOD & COUNTRY - 8

Copyright 2005 by Carl Mason and Ed Collins

All rights reserved.  Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal
enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without
the written permission of the authors.  However based on real events and
places, "For God & Country" is strictly fictional.  Any resemblance to
actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.  As in real life, however, the sexual themes unfold
gradually.  If you would like to read other Mason-Collins stories, you
might turn to "Out of the Rubble," "Castle Margarethen," "The Priest and
the Pauper," and "High Plains Doctor" which are archived in Nifty's
"Historical" section.  Comments on the story are appreciated and may be
addressed to the authors at edcwriter@yahoo.com .

"For God and Country" is much indebted to a long out-of-print work titled
"Ask No Quarter" by George Marsh (Sun Dial Press, 1946).  In many ways, it
is an "alternative" retelling of parts of that grand story.  To be sure,
most of the content is unique to this yarn.

This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both
adults and teenagers.  As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the
personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults.  If you are not of
legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you
trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral
dilemmas in your life, please leave.  Finally, remember that maturity
generally demands that anything other than safe sex is sheer insanity!


CHAPTER 8

(Revisiting Chapter 7)

They lay kissing, touching, and glorying in their youth and love.
Eventually, Joe's mind went back to Becky's final comments when she had
said that pleasuring her was something reserved for her girlfriend in
Antigua.  This was NOT what he wanted - then or now!  Inexpertly, but
passionately and with great love, he returned everything to Jeremy that had
been offered him - and then some.  Kneeling over the exhausted Mate at the
end, he growled, "I be no woman, but loving you has to be the best thing in
my life!"  Jeremy reached up and tumbled the hunky blond down beside him.
"You will stay here tonight, Joe, till your watch is struck.  We are not
finished!"  "No," the magnificent blond replied, "we are damned well not
finished!"

(Continuing Our Story - HMS Lawrence)

Three days out of Martinique, his new store of gold safely deposited, the
Captain awakened, feeling that it was NOT going to be a good day!  He could
not have been more correct.  From beginning to end, the Eagle and her crew
faced constant challenges.  As was his wont in similar situations, Hugh
followed his sailing plan, but kept charts that he had almost memorized
well in mind.

It was noon when the HMS Lawrence, one of the fast new 50-gun frigates
assigned to hunt down the Eagle in the Caribbean, finally sighted her off
the northeastern coast of the Isthmus of Darien [Panama].  As an
afternoon-long running battle raged, Hugh gradually worked his way towards
The Sambala's Islands [Archipelago of San Blas].  As they neared an area
dotted with seemingly endless islands - most small dots of coral, sand, and
tropical vegetation - the Lawrence began catching up with the Eagle in
earnest.  Her gunnery was all too effective, and damage on the smaller
sloop of war was mounting.  Cannonballs flew through the sails, missing the
masts, but punching great holes in the canvas.  Several smashed into the
hull, sending dust and splinters in every direction.  A solid shot crashed
directly into Hugh's cabin, knocking out a battery that had been placed at
one of the windows and killing two men in its crew.  Word came from below
that the pumps were falling behind the water pouring in from damage done to
the hull.  As the Eagle slipped into the first group of islands that dotted
the archipelago, a canister shot struck the deck.  Blood and bits of iron
and human flesh combined in an unholy mixture.  Badly torn, 13 of her crew
dead or seriously wounded, the proud sloop slipped further into the
confusion of islands.

For another two hours, the two warships sailed through the island maze
caught up in a deadly game of cat and mouse.  Many on board the Eagle
wondered if it could possibly end well.  Finally, concealed in a thick mass
of overhanging vegetation, the sloop watched the frigate sail slowly by in
the dusk.  At the perfect moment, every gun on the Eagle spoke as one,
including the cannon that poured a thunderous broadside into the frigate.
The Lawrence staggered, but had to sail on in the relatively narrow channel
as the Eagle slipped away.  The frigate stood watch in the area for a night
and a day, but finally had to retire due to damage sustained in both the
ocean pursuit and in the Eagle's broadside.

It was impossible for Captain Yaller Hair to remain long in the
archipelago, for the area was controlled by fierce natives who hated the
Spanish even more than the English.  After completing minor repairs, the
Eagle limped off towards an island in the southern Caribbean in the heart
of that which once had been the domain of pirates on the Spanish Main.
There Hugh hoped to repair his ship, for her sails could not be seen again
in the Lesser Antilles until she was able to fight.

(The Pirate Horde)

A badly mauled Eagle slipped through narrows into an island cove not
visible from the sea.  (Hugh silently thanked Captain Coffee who had
learned of the anchorage from a Newport privateer condemned and hung after
allegedly turning pirate.  Jeremiah has shared the information with him, as
he had with Jeremy.)  Though verdant forests came down to the shore, the
far end of the cove was open, its sandy beach shelving into water without
rocks.  After moving the Eagle into the cove, ten cannon and many smaller
guns, together with powder and shot, were immediately moved to the
surrounding bluffs.  Concealed by foliage, they were in position to rake
the narrow entrance.  However backbreaking the task, not a man jack aboard
the sloop failed to understand its necessity or give it anything less than
maximal effort.

To make matters more difficult, the bosun had convinced Hugh that failing
to careen the sloop would markedly reduce her fighting qualities, no matter
what other repairs had to be made.  For four days, the Captain and Mate,
stripped to waist, worked alongside their men in exhausting labor.  The
ship was rowed to the beach and, after removing the ballast and otherwise
lightening the vessel, hove over on her beam-ends by tackles rigged to
trees.  After scraping the thick accumulation of weeds and other marine
growth from her bottom, the sailors replaced rotten and damaged planks,
stopped up cracks and seams with oakum, and poured pitch and hot tar on to
waterproof the hull.  In some cases, parts of the keel needed to be
repaired.  Then the other side was treated in the same way.  After
careening, the Eagle would be set upright in order that work topside could
commence. Under the watchful eye of the bosun and his mates, for instance,
the ballast, including the remnants of the two cannon destroyed in the
fight with the Lawrence, would be restored and distributed evenly.  The
upper parts of the sloop could then be repaired.  They were in great
danger, for if the eyes of the enemy had seen them entering the cove, they
would be drawn to them as flies are drawn to sugar.

On the fourth day, as the careening neared completion, the gun shot of a
lookout signaled trouble.  Hugh climbed up to the batteries to find that
two ships were in the vicinity under sweeps (long oars) - one a long, black
sloop that was unmistakably Le Tonnerre!  All hands were ordered to stand
by.  Hugh told the men frankly that the scum of the earth were upon them,
that they would outnumber them by considerably more than two to one, and
that they would try to land and rush the guns.  "Sink them in the narrows!"
he bellowed.  "If you want to take your ship and your treasure back to your
loved ones in Newport, sink them in the narrows!"  Fierce shouts indicated
that the sailors were with their young Captain to the man.  The guns were
loaded variously with chopped iron, cut nails, bullets, scrap iron, and
solid shot.

A second signal indicated that an even smaller third galley had joined the
other two.  The sloop approached the entrance, flying the French flag of
blue powdered by yellow lilies.  The smaller second and third ships
followed under sweeps.  Their crews cheered as they spotted the still
damaged and virtually deserted Eagle.  Hugh's gun crews crouched, sighting
their weapons.  Suddenly, the blue banner at the masthead of the sloop was
lowered and replaced with piracy's infamous Jolly Roger.  As they came
abreast of the guns, the order to fire was given.  Heavy shot and chopped
iron shattered the pirate sloop.  In the smoke and confusion, her guns
fired blindly into the orange smoke hanging in the trees.  Cursing in
countless languages, men began filling the boats the sloop had in tow.
Hugh waited until they bunched and then spewed a murderous barrage of
chopped iron into the longboats.  Four wooden shells filled with dead and
dying drifted helplessly.  Musket men on shore opened up on the survivors.

Le Tonnerre was now little more than kindling, though the second ship had
gotten the range and sent a cannonball into a battery, killing two men.
Some of her boats were hit, but others kept loading.  Boats from the third
craft angled sharply towards the shoreline, hugging the cliff.  The cannons
could not be depressed enough to get at them.  A howling mob of rabble
screamed for revenge!  The Eagle's remaining heavy guns were shifted by
hand and concealed with vines and other foliage.  Having climbed the steep
hill, the leading pirates broke through the undergrowth and into the
cleared gun positions with bloodcurdling yells.  They gathered, surprised
by the silence - grotesque figures of every color, scarred by cutlass and
small pox, ringed, and clothed in fantastic costume.  The crew of the Eagle
held their fire until the clearing was jammed with men.  Then their guns
and muskets belched death.  The Newport and Portsmouth lads - and no less
their new shipmates - charged with fierce shouts, driving the pirates back
to the shore where other boats were landing.

On the cliff above, the gunners under Jeremy manhandled the damaged
1500-pound gun and carriage and pushed her over the rim of the steep cliff.
Down and down it tumbled until it tore into the assembled boats.  The lads
charged again with cutlasses and hatchets.  They met the pirate horde led
by their red kerchiefed Captain who was screaming at the rout of his band
of cutthroats.  "Ventre du biche!" he screamed.  "VENTRE DU BICHE!"  The
fight was vicious and the casualties were heavy, but it was the few
remaining pirates who fled for their lives.  The bodies of their dead
Captain - and Thaddeus Longley - were found later, drifting face down in
the water.

The broken, dismasted sloop, filled with water, lay on the bottom
alongshore.  At the entrance to the narrows, the last of the pirates were
putting off in a longboat, followed by slugs from Hugh's musket men.  Under
a few sweeps, the sorely battered second ship was retreating seaward.  The
third craft drifted aimlessly in the water.  The crew filled the narrows
with their cheers.  The Eagle was safe!

After a day that allowed some relaxation, the crew identified salvageable
parts from the sloop that might be used in repairing the heavy damage done
the Eagle by the British frigate.  In so doing, a strange, heavily sealed
document was found in a hidden compartment in the Captain's cabin and
brought to Hugh.  Suddenly looking up, Hugh and Jeremy stared incredulously
at each other.  Dreams and legends told them something about the large,
timeworn piece of skin - human skin given the tattoos, Hugh surmised - that
lay before them.  There was not the slightest doubt about the island
pictured on the rough map.  Indeed, they were standing on it!

(Brotherhood of the Dancing Skeleton)

The Captain had made his decision.  Under the leadership of the bosun, the
older men - including all of the Eagle's finest artisans - and all but two
of the ship's boys would remain at the cove for defense and in order to
finish work on the sloop.  He would lead the young men - including the Mate
plus Eddie and Zeb, the oldest of the ship's boys - into the interior of
the island.  The bosun had been included in the planning, but no one else
was told that they might have discovered the legendary Caribbean island
where pirates had stashed their treasure since the 16th century!  If they
found it, everyone would share; if it eluded them, the Eagle would still be
ready to sail.

In mid morning, the column moved out, packing (Eddie and Zeb maintained)
some mighty strange equipment.  Six hours of moderately strenuous hiking
brought them to a bowl, surrounded by hills that overlooked the cove and an
empty sea far below.  Hugh and Jeremy looked at each other sharply.  It was
exactly where the map said it would be.  Camp was established and a meal
prepared by a still playful crew.  As evening grew nigh and wild tropical
colors began to flare in the darkening sky, the Captain drew his men about
him as ship captains have from time immemorial.  Knowing that something was
about to happen, they watched wide- eyed as sparks from a great campfire
curled and sputtered in the cool air.

"There are legends in these parts that all sailor boys must know," the
Captain finally intoned.  "Your time has come, as mine came at the hands of
Captain Arnold.  Nevertheless, you are shipmates on the Eagle, and no one
will be forced to do anything against his will.  For those who CHOOSE to
take part, they will be inducted into the 'Brotherhood of the Dancing
Skeleton' and accepted as 'true salts' by all men who sail the blue waters
the world over.  Decide well, for your bodies must be prepared, the
ceremony is long, and you must sign an oath of secrecy in blood.  No one
will be harmed.  You may withdraw from the ceremony at any time prior to
signing the oath."  The young men looked back and forth at each other and
buzzed.  Even Joe Lawrence was visibly excited.  Who would refuse such an
opportunity?  And, indeed, each young tar indicated that he wished to
proceed.

Captain Hugh proceeded to tell a dark story of a bloodthirsty mythical race
that was said to inhabit these islands long before the Arawak and the
Carib.  It was due to them - rather than the Carib who had fallen heir to
the reputation - that stories of cannibalism had arisen.  Indeed, they were
man-eaters, feasting on their enemies and, occasionally, even on their own.
This very island was the center of their empire.  Legend had it that
spirits of the "Ahishti" still dwelt here.  He admitted that all he KNEW
was that countless young seamen from ships that happened on this island
over the last 200 years had never returned to their vessels.  He SUSPECTED
that they had been taken as sacrifices by the Ahishti.  "Do not walk about
without paying attention to who is walking next to you...or behind you," he
counseled.  The lads shivered involuntarily, gulped, and checked their
companions...very carefully.  The ritual that followed, he went on to say,
had been developed to give sailors some protection against the demonic
forces.

Twenty-two squares of a thin bark were removed from a pack and distributed
one to each youth, including Jeremy, but excluding Hugh.  Told to shape it
into a cone, the boy held it as the Captain poured a portion of a thick,
slightly lumpy solution and instructed him to drink every drop.  "Coconut
milk - and something more," Zeb whispered to Eddie.  "Not so bad."  Cast
into the fire, the empty cones sparkled and then flared, further intriguing
the awestruck lads.  Within minutes, they began to twitch.  They couldn't
sit still; they felt strangely dizzy and ready to jump out of their skins.
The slops of nearly every lad were strongly tented.  "Cast your clothing on
your packs and dance...dance! dance!...about the fire!" their Captain
shouted. Soon the Eagle's naked fledglings were gyrating about the fire,
many brandishing spears and hatchets, most chanting and shouting.  The dust
rose; sweat poured down their bodies.  Their faces took on the expressions
of warriors long dead.  In the depths of his being, Hugh knew intuitively
that the smooth boulders surrounding the bowl had reflected these pagan
shadows many times before.

As each dancer slumped to the ground exhausted, Hugh strode over to him and
helped him into a protected hollow behind the camp.  A smooth sacrificial
stone, approximately 6-feet in length, 3-feet in width, and something more
than three feet in height dominated its center.  First taking Jeremy, Hugh
quickly removed the light hair from his body with the sharpest of razors.
Aided by his groggy, almost zombie-like Mate and the powerful Joe Lawrence
who had been less affected by the potion and whose body had no need of
steel, the three young men quickly prepared the rest of the lads.  Sleeping
off the worst effects of the potion, the boys arose to a daylong fast,
other stories, and other rituals.  Zeb and Eddie grumbled a little when
they saw that their thin thatch had been removed, a sign of growing
maturity that had allowed them to lord it over the other ship's boys, but
they weren't ABOUT to withdraw from the ceremony!  At nightfall there was
another great campfire.  Hugh told them of a recurring legend that held
that generations of pirates had chosen this very island on which to bury
their treasure - and on the morrow, they would search for it!  Wild
excitement greeted his announcement.  Before sleep, they were offered a
final potion - with the warning that they might find it highly stimulating
sexually.  No man could be held responsible for anything that happened.
Hence, they were free to refuse it without penalty.  Not a man jack barred
it from his lips.  Indeed, after quaffing his portion, nearly everyone
unrolled the bark cone and licked the remnants from the inner surface
before flinging it into the fire!

Agitated far beyond his usual state of high excitement when they enjoyed
each other, Jeremy had finally wandered off - with Hugh's understanding.
He remembered well tales of first experiences with that potion!  He was
almost asleep when a slight form cuddled down next to him.  "Zeb!  What are
you doing here?" he asked...just a trifle grumpily.  "Sir," his cabin boy
answered firmly, "I am a candidate for the Brotherhood.  Am I only a
second-class candidate?"  Hugh hesitated, but finally said, "No, Zeb, you
are a young man whom I love and in whom I am most pleased."  With that, he
bent down and tongued the young man's chest.  "Ahh-h-h-h," the lad moaned
and pressed closer to his hero.  Hugh could feel several inches of
rock-hard cock jabbing into his side.  "You have grown again since I last
saw you in that ape skin," Hugh laughed.  The little black-haired one
giggled and proudly admitted, "Yes, sir, almost every day lately."  His
Captain bent down and took nearly four inches of very hard boy flesh into
his mouth.  "Oh, Cap'n!  I've dreamt of this for so long..."  Further words
were cut off as the boy began to gasp and thrash around.  Within less than
a minute, his body arched and he deposited an impressive load into his
Captain's mouth.  "Well done, Candidate Pearce!" Hugh said, an official
tone.  "Now get the hell out of here and let me get some sleep!"  "Yes,
sir," the half- elated, half-disappointed lad giggled as he rose and headed
off into the moonlight.

Again, Hugh had almost fallen asleep when he became conscious of someone
standing over him.  In the moonlight that glinted off his blond hair, it
was possible to tell that it was the young Hercules.  It was also obvious
that he was massively erect and that sweat was pouring down his body!
However superlative the scenery, Hugh was so groggy that he could barely
shake himself sufficiently awake to react.  "Jeremy went that way," he
mumbled, pointing off in some direction.  "I wasn't looking for Mr. Stuart,
sir" Joe Lawrence answered respectfully - though there was a strange tremor
in his voice.  By now, Hugh was awake.  "What's wrong, Joe?  Kneel down
here and talk with me for a minute.  Aren't you having fun with the
potion?"  "Sir," Joe answered seriously, "I decided that I was a man and
that I would refuse to surrender to its effects."  Hugh looked at the
kneeling youth, seeing him clearly for the first time.  His massive cock
seemed to stretch nearly halfway down his muscular, kneeling thighs.  His
sweat-covered body was trembling in the night air.  "Lie down under my
blanket for a few minutes, Joe.  Hell, sailor, I've never heard of anyone
in history who has been known to 'resist' the potion!"  "I'm failing, too,
sir," the blond youth whispered sadly, his teeth chattering.

"Damn!" Hugh muttered to himself.  "When they invented the word
'magnificent,' they were thinking of this kid."  "Slide over closer, Joe,
and warm up."  Somehow, Hugh couldn't prevent his hand from reaching out
and caressing the lad's buttocks. "Oh, that feels good, sir," the blond
whispered.  With that encouragement, the Captain reached down to brush the
classic muscles of his thigh and then reached up, 'accidentally' brushing
against his heavy balls and his unbelievably turgid cock.  "Sorry, lad," he
mumbled.  "Why be sorry, sir?  You are the most complete man I have ever
known."  With that the youngster turned over, embraced Hugh with two arms
that had the girth of cables, and kissed him passionately.  Captain Yaller
Hair immediately went so hard that his entire midsection ached!  "Take me,
sir," the youngster panted.  "I want this to be a night I
remember...forever."  As he went to turn over, Hugh's heavy arm reached out
and brought him back onto the ground.  "Not that way, Joe.  I want to see
your handsome face when I accept a gift that I intend to remember.  On your
back, legs up, and widespread..."  As the boy took his position, Hugh
slicked his sword with the precum that had been flowing since Joe had
crouched down beside him and then worked a goodly amount into the boy's
open anus.  Smiling at the radiant youth, he swung forward, his heavy cock
flowing into Joe as if into a tunnel of soft, warm butter.  "Ah-h-h-h-h..."
the boy crooned in ecstasy.  Gradually, like the Eagle as she got underway,
the pace quickened.  Gasping, locking his heavy calves around his back, Joe
tried to pull Hugh deeper and deeper into him.  His lips eagerly accepted
Hugh's as the Captain reached down to kiss him, and the pace quickened and
deepened.  Hugh sucked on the superb youngster's Adam's apple.  He began
literally pounding into his body.  Never had a medieval castle been
required to stand under such a battering ram - nor could the mighty Joe
Lawrence.  His head thrust back, his broad chest expanded to its furthest
limits, his face shining red in the low light, he gave himself to his
Captain.

After a moment or two had passed, the young lad went to scramble out from
under the blanket and stand.  "Where are you going, sailor?" Hugh asked
severely.  "I didn't think you'd want...  me, sir," the youth whispered
sadly.  By way of answer, Hugh rolled over onto his back, raised his heavy
muscular thighs, held them up and well apart, and muttered, "You were
wrong."  A boyish grin spread rapidly over the young sailor's eager face!

As the crew demolished the breakfast that broke their fast the next
morning, Hugh noted their faces.  A few wore deeply satisfied expressions;
a much smaller number were rather shamefaced; the great majority looked as
if they had been hitting their puds harder than they'd worked them since
they'd hit puberty.  Talk about raw spots!  When they had finished - or, at
least, when the food had run out - he called them together.  "Ok, men, two
tasks remain before we go for gold - your blood oath of secrecy, and the
final decoration of your bodies.  Hugh explained how they would be asked to
swear that they would never divulge secrets of the Brotherhood.  One by
one, the young men were called into the hollow that held the sacrificial
stone.  After swearing the oath, signing his "X" with blood pricked from
his finger and emitting (on instruction) a loud scream that scared the hell
out of everyone waiting, he returned to camp.  Clapping each young man on
his broad shoulders after all had signed, the Captain welcomed him to the
Brotherhood.  After Hugh and Jeremy had painted the body of each proud
Brother in wild barbaric designs, they were off.

Some miles later, they reached a spot overlooking the ocean on the other
side of the island.  A giant tree, nearly dead of old age, stood like a
sentinel.  Following the map, Hugh carefully paced off the requisite
distances and dug a shovel into the designated position.  "Let's dig," he
muttered with determination.  Taking turns, it wasn't long before the
entire area was excavated.  There was nothing!  As the disappointed boys
munched on some dried fruit and biscuits and sipped on cool water from a
stream, Hugh and Jeremy examined the map.  "Here's the "X," Hugh said, "and
here are the directions we followed to the inch."  "Hugh," Jeremy murmured.
"Does that 'X' look as if it's been altered to you?"  Holding the map up to
the sun, Hugh said that it was...possible.  "Let's take another look at the
map and see if we can spot an area that's been tampered with or even
erased," Jeremy persisted.  Holding the map in front of the sun, they
quickly identified two possible areas that MIGHT have been erased long ago.
Calling the company together, Hugh described what they had found and asked
the gang if they were up to another dig.  In wild excitement, the boys cast
off their fatigue and followed Hugh eagerly across the rocky landscape.

Even Captain Yaller Hair was excited as they neared the new location and
saw that the stump of a second ancient tree stood roughly equidistant
between the two possible sites.  Admitting that he could not give them an
exact location, Hugh studied the map and scanned the areas on either side
of the tree.  Finally, after much pacing and cogitation, he grunted, "Let
dig here!" and thrust the shovel into the ground.  After an hour's sweaty
work, they had found nothing.  Deeply discouraged, they were about to give
up when Joe Lawrence, who had stubbornly remained in the hole, suddenly
gave a shout.  "Captain, I may have found something.  Come quick!"  As Joe
sprawled near collapse on the edge of the site, the boys took over and
quickly uncovered a medium-sized chest.  A metal plate bore the date
"1624."  That first chest was soon followed by three others and, then, a
fourth.  Hugh's estimate had been about four feet from the true location.
Calling Joe over, the Captain handled him his hatchet and said, "Smash the
lock with the back of the hatchet, Joe.  You've earned the right to have
the first look."  Shattering the lock with two sledgehammer blows, Joe
gingerly lifted the lid.  The chest was filled to the brim with gold coins
bearing Spanish inscriptions mixed with jewels that gleamed in the sun for
the first time in many long years.  Twenty-two naked, painted young sailors
danced wildly about the chests, cheering for Joe Lawrence, cheering for the
Eagle, and cheering for their Captain.

"Let's see if there really were two locations," Jeremy finally grunted as
he openly hung onto Hugh.  Measuring the distance from the find to the
tree, they drew an arc on the ground.  Working on sheer intuition, Hugh
ignored the measurements and walked directly to a low granite ridge that
was bisected by the arc.  "Men, let's pound around on this stone and see if
we find anything."  Within ten minutes, Pete MacKenzie (one of the "new"
shipmates who had signed on in Guadeloupe) yelled, "Captain, I've got
something strange here!"  Indeed he had.  Cut into the stone was the sign
of a dancing skeleton.  The backs of hatchets had no effect.  Finally, a
couple of the larger and more muscular lads picked up a mammoth boulder and
slammed it down directly on the skeleton.  Feeling a tremor and hearing a
great rumble of stone rubbing on stone, the boys sprang back in alarm.  As
the dust cleared, they beheld a ramp that led down into the stone ledge.
Within several feet, they encountered a heavy wooden door into which a
dancing skeleton had been carved.  "Ok, boys, I want everyone to clear the
ramp."  Hugh ordered.  Breaking the lock, he tied a light rope onto the
door handle before himself retreating to a safer position.  As he pulled on
the rope and the door slowly swung open, they heard a click and then a
great explosion.  Cut nails, bullets, iron scraps and, strangely, bits of
bone littered the ramp.  Perhaps hidden for a century and a half, an
ancient Spanish-era blunderbuss had been set to welcome the unwary to the
treasure cave.  Hugh's upper arm ached from the pounding that it took from
his men.  (He even received quite a few brief hugs that he found infinitely
less damaging!)  "What's all this bone?" Eddie asked, extending a piece of
a vertebra to his Captain.  "My guess, Eddie, is that they used parts of
one of their prisoners to welcome you.  Nice guys, eh?"  "Yeah!" gasped the
wide-eyed ship's boy.

Moving slowly and cautiously, watching carefully where they placed their
feet, the Eagle crew moved towards a cave that had literally been cut out
of rock only a small ledge of which was visible from above.  Suddenly
rounding a curve in the passageway, they came upon something that they
never thought they would see.  The room in front of them was literally
filled with chests.  Benches and finely worked tables held larger objects -
candlesticks, crucifixes, chalices, goblets, trays and other serving
pieces...most in gold, some in silver.  Several larger pieces of jewelry
were scattered about on the tables as if worth nothing.  The riches of the
Spanish Main...

"Jeremy, I want you to take one of the older lads and make your way back to
the ship immediately.  Travel quickly, but safely," Hugh ordered.  "Ask the
bosun to keep a small defensive crew on board the Eagle under his command.
The rest of the crew is to bring anything that will help move these many
chests and large objects down to the ship.  All is to be ready to sail on
tomorrow evening's tide."

Scarcely able to keep their hands off their beloved Captain, the joyous
young sailors waited in and around the cave.  Several chests were opened.
Each contained gold or jewels - some never unpacked after having been
plundered from a captured Spanish galleon.  At the back of the cave they
found a less happy side of pirate life - a single cell that held four
skeletons.  Though their apparel was so old as to be falling apart, they
appeared to have been richly dressed.  One hung from the bars at the top,
his neck still secured in a leather belt.  Hugh wondered if this was the
pirates' doing or if the prisoner had decided to end the hopelessness and
pain in which he found himself.

In the morning, the rest of the crew arrived to be awed as had the
youngsters before them.  Quickly, the treasure in both locations was packed
up to be moved onto a few wheeled conveyances brought by the crew, several
examples of a variation on an American Indian conveyance (the travois) that
Hugh remembered from earlier contacts with the native peoples, or onto the
backs of individuals when all else failed.  When they reached the sloop,
they found that the repairs had indeed been completed with great skill,
stores had been laid in to the extent that the island permitted, and a
satisfying supper awaited them.  They sailed on the evening tide.


(To Be Continued)