Von Horn cursed the chance that had snatched the girl from him, but
he tried to content himself with the thought that the treasure probably still
rested in the cabin of the Ithaca, where Bududreen was to have deposited it.
He wished that the Dyaks would take themselves off so that he could
board the vessel and carry the chest ashore to bury it against the time that
fate should provide a means for transporting it to Singapore.
In the water below him floated the Ithaca's masts, their grisly burdens
still lashed to their wave swept sides. Bududreen lay there, his contorted
features set in a horrible grimace of death which grinned up at the man he
would have cheated, as though conscious of the fact that the white man
would have betrayed him had the opportunity come, the while he enjoyed
in anticipation the other's disappointment in the loss of both the girl and
the treasure.
The tide was rising now, and presently the Ithaca began to float. No
sooner was it apparent that she was free than the Dyaks sprang into the
water and swam to her side. Like monkeys they scrambled aboard,
swarming below deck in search, thought von Horn, of pillage. He prayed
that they would not discover the chest.
Presently a half dozen of them leaped overboard and swam to the mass
of tangled spars and rigging which littered the beach. Selecting what
they wished they returned to the vessel, and a few minutes later von Horn
was chagrined to see them stepping a jury mast-- he thought the treasure
lay in the Ithaca's cabin.
Before dark the vessel moved slowly out of the harbor, setting a course
across the strait in the direction that the war prahus had taken. When it
was apparent that there was no danger that the head hunters would return,
the lascar came from his hiding place, and dancing up and down upon the
shore screamed warlike challenges and taunts at the retreating enemy.
Von Horn also came forth, much to the sailor's surprise, and in silence
the two stood watching the disappearing ship. At length they turned and
made their way up the stream toward camp--there was no longer aught to |
