As I could not contradict this a.s.sertion, I proposed that we should follow, and examine into the mystery; but f.a.n.n.y cried out, "O, for goodness' sake, don't! I'm afraid. If they have the power to make themselves invisible, they may be hiding to do us harm."

"It is only visible harm that I'm afraid of," answered Charlie, with his eyes still fixed wonderingly on the point of s.p.a.ce where they had so lately been; "pull fast, Pierre, let us find out what the rascals are up to."

Thus urged, I threw what force I could into my oar-stroke (for I was but a convalescent), and very soon we came to the long sloping point of mossy rocks where we had expected to see the canoe's pa.s.sengers land. I own that I approached it with some caution, thinking it possible that a whirlpool might have sucked the boat and its freight of fifteen lives out of sight, in some point of time when our eyes were for an instant averted. But the water was perfectly quiet, and the whole place, both on water and on land, silent, sunny, and not in the least uncanny or alarming. We dropped our oars and gazed at each other in amazement.

"Well, if that don't beat the Dutch!" was Charlie's comment; and I fancied that his brown cheek grew a shade less ruddy than usual. As for f.a.n.n.y, she was in a fright, paling and shrinking as if from some terrible real and visible danger; and when I proposed to land and investigate the mystery, fairly mustered quite a copious shower of tears with which to melt my resolve.

"O, Pierre--Mr. Blanchett, I mean--oh, please don't go ash.o.r.e. I am sure either that these dreadful savages are lurking here to destroy us, or that we have been deceived by some wicked conjuror. Oh, I am so frightened!"

"My dear Miss Lane," I answered, "I give you my word no harm shall come to you. Shall we let a lot of blanketed savages perform a conjurer's trick right before our faces that we do not attempt to have explained?

By no means. If you are too nervous to come ash.o.r.e with us, Charlie may stay with you in the boat, and I will go by myself to look into this matter." Whereupon f.a.n.n.y gave me so reproachful a look out of her great brown eyes that I quailed beneath it.

"Do you think Charlie and I would leave you to go into danger alone? No, indeed; if you _will_ be so rash, we will accompany you; and if _die_ we must, we will all die together." That last appeal being made with a very touching quaver of a very melodious voice.

For answer, I a.s.sisted her out of the boat, which Charlie was already fastening by the chain to some bushes near the bit of beach; and tucking the little gloved hand under my arm, seized an opportunity to whisper something not particularly relevant to this story.

The boat being secured, we climbed a short distance up the rocky bank, stopping to gather wild roses and mock-orange blossoms, which, in spite of her alarm, engaged Miss Lane's attention to such an extent that Charlie had gotten fairly out of sight before we missed him. But as we turned to follow, he confronted us with a face expressive of a droll kind of perplexity.

"Not a red rascal in sight," said he, glancing back over his shoulder, "except that queer old cove that was sitting in the stern. _He's_ just over there," jerking his head in the direction meant, "sitting on his haunches like an Egyptian idol, and about as motionless, and about as ancient."

"But their canoe," I said, "what could they have done with their canoe?

It is not in the water, and there is no sign here of their having dragged it ash.o.r.e."

"They didn't land, not in the regular way, I mean, for I was watching for them every instant; and how that old chap got there, and how that canoe got out of sight so quick, is too hard a nut for me to crack, I confess."

"Let us not go near the dreadful old thing," pleaded f.a.n.n.y once more, her alarm returning.

Again I proposed to her to stay in the boat with Charlie, which had the effect, as before, to determine her upon going with us; which determination I strengthened by an encouraging pressure of the little gloved hand in my possession; and without waiting for further alarms pressed on at once, with Charlie for guide, to the spot where the "dreadful old thing" was understood to be.

And there, sure enough, he was, squatting on the ground beside a spring, where grew a thicket of willows and wild roses; alone and silent, evidently watching, if not waiting, for our approach.

"What will you say to him?" asked f.a.n.n.y, as we came quite near, eyeing the singular object with evident dread.

"We'll ask him if he is hungry," said Charlie lightly. "If he is a live Indian he is sure to say 'yes' to that proposition;" and Charlie actually produced from his pockets some sandwiches, in a slightly damaged condition. Holding these before him, very much as one holds an ear of corn to a frisky colt he wishes to catch, he approached near enough to offer them, f.a.n.n.y still holding me back just enough to let this advance be made before we came up. To her great relief the mummy put out a skinny hand, and s.n.a.t.c.hed the offered provisions under its robe.

"You see he is only a poor starving old Indian," I said.

"Me no poor--no starve; me big chief," retorted the old man, glancing disdainfully at us, with eyes that now appeared bright.

I exchanged telegraphic communication with Charlie and f.a.n.n.y, seated her comfortably upon a mossy boulder, and threw myself at her feet, while Charlie disposed of himself also, within conversational distance.

"May I ask what is your name?" I inquired, insinuatingly.

"My name is Nittinat--this is my country; this water is mine; this earth, these stones--all mine that you see."

"Such a great chief must have many warriors--many people. I do not see any. Were those your people that I saw in the canoe?"

"Nittinat's people all gone," answered the old man sadly, dropping his chin upon his rush-clad breast.

"But we saw a canoe with fourteen warriors in it, besides yourself,"

Charlie eagerly a.s.serted. "Where are those young men?"

"Me great medicine man; make see canoe--make see young men," responded the owner of the place, with a wan yet superior sort of smile.

Charlie glanced at us, then asked quite deferentially, "Can you make us see what is not here?"

"You have seen," was the brief reply.

"Ask him why we are thus favored," whispered f.a.n.n.y.

"This young cloochman (you see I must talk to him in his own tongue, f.a.n.n.y), wishes to know why you opened our eyes to your great medicine."

"White man come to Nittinat's land, white man see Nittinat's power.

White man ask questions!"--this last contemptuously, at which f.a.n.n.y laughed, as asking questions was one of her reserved rights.

"You must be an old man, since these waters are named after you,"

suggested I. "Who was the first white man you remember seeing?"

"_Hyas tyee_, Cappen Cook. Big ship--big guns!" answered Nittinat, warming with the recollection.

"This is a good lead," remarked Charlie, _sotto voce_; "follow it up, Pierre."

"You were a child then? very little?" making a movement with my hand to indicate a child's stature.

"Me a chief--many warriors--big chief. Ugh!" said the mummy, with kindling eyes.

At this barefaced story, Charlie made a grimace, while he commented in an undertone: "But it is ninety-six years since Captain Cook visited this coast. How the old humbug lies."

At this whispered imputation upon his honor, the old chief regarded us scornfully; though how such a parchment countenance could be made to express anything excited my wonder.

"Me no lie. Nittinat's heart big. Nittinat's heart good. _Close tum-tum_, ugh!"

"White man's eyes are closed--his heart is darkened," said I, adopting what I considered to be a conciliatory style of speech. "My friend cannot understand how you could have known Captain Cook so long ago. All the white men who knew the great white chief have gone to their fathers."

"Ugh, all same as Cappen Cook. He no believe my cousin Wiccanish see big Spanish ship 'fore he came."

"How did he make him see it at last?" asked Charlie, stretching himself out on the gra.s.s, and covering his eyes with his hat, from under the brim of which he shot quizzical glances at f.a.n.n.y and I.

"Wiccanish showed Cook these," replied Nittinat, drawing from beneath his robe a necklace of sh.e.l.ls, to which two silver spoons were attached, of a peculiar pattern, and much battered and worn.

"Oh, do let me see them," cried f.a.n.n.y, whose pa.s.sion for relics was quickly aroused. Charlie, too, was constrained to abandon his lazy att.i.tude for a moment to examine such a curiosity as these quaint old spoons.

"Only to think that they are more than a hundred years old! But I cannot make out the lettering upon them; perhaps he is deceiving us after all,"

said f.a.n.n.y, pa.s.sing them to me for inspection.

I took out of my pocket a small magnifying-gla.s.s, which, although it could not restore what was worn away, brought to light all that was left of an inscription, probably the manufacturer's trade-mark, the only legible part of which was 17-0.

"Did the Spanish captain give these to your cousin?" I asked.