The Dark Canoe Read Online Free PDF Page B

greeting.
    The little, mud-colored chief we had met before held out a handful of pearls. Caleb let him know that we wished to barter, and by making the sign of a ship, one that lay beneath the water, and the motions of diving, he was able to strike a bargain.
    As a result of the signs, repeated over and over for the better part of an hour, and the gift of an iron bar, the chief sent out his men to look for the Amy Foster .
    These Indians were fine divers. They regularly dived for abalones and scallops, which they ate, and for pearls which, they told us, they took eastward on foot across the high mountains to barter for cloth.
    It was a good bargain. With eight of our men diving and twelve of theirs (the little chieftain did not dive, but sat in his canoe, eyeing the pump) we covered a wide circle that day. At sunset, after Caleb had given him a piece of leaky hose and three broken screws, the chief promised to bring his men back the next morning. They left us, skimming the water like flying fish, and disappeared around a headland that lay to the north.
    That night Judd and I set off with a lantern and fishlines. We said that we were going out to catch sierra, but hidden in our clothes were the proper tools to use on the chest. We fished our way toward the cove. When we reached the cove we doused the lantern and waded into the mangroves. Then we uncovered the chest, and Judd set to with chisel and hammer.
    He worked as he had before, like a jeweler cutting gems, yet the work went faster and by the time we were ready to leave, he had cleaned off an area about four feet square. It seemed to form an end, the larger end of the chest, where one of the sides joined the top.
    â€œShine the lantern close,” he said, and when I did he tested the wood with a thumbnail. “A strange kind of wood,” he said. “I’ve never seen its likes before. Tough as iron. Good wood, good carpenter, I’d say.”
    We covered the chest as we had before and hid the tools. On our way back to the ship Judd lighted the lantern and put out two lines and started to fish for sierra.
    â€œSomething to show Captain Troll,” the old man said. “He’s got his eye on us, me especially. Ever since the murder, he’s been snooping around, acting like a policeman.”
    The old man jerked on his line, waited and jerked again and pulled in a silver-sided fish as long as his arm. He unhooked the fish, straightened the feathers on the jig, and threw it over the side while I rowed on toward the ship.
    Then he said, “Appears to me that your brother should hold court and talk to everyone, call them in one by one and find out what they know.”
    â€œCaleb’s not going to do that,” I said. “He told me the night after the murder that the best idea was to wait until the ship docked in Nantucket and turn everything over to the regular court.”
    â€œFor instance,” the old man said, “there’re a few things I haven’t told.”
    â€œYou heard the big white cat yowl about an hour before dawn.”
    â€œYes, and an infernal racket it was, too.”
    Judd had another fish on the line and I quit rowing until he brought it in.
    â€œWhat else do you know?” I said.
    â€œWell, I heard a voice about that time. Talking to the cat, I guess.”
    â€œWhose voice?” I asked.
    â€œI couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like Caleb’s. Then I heard a cabin door slam shut. But a short while later, perhaps a minute, I heard someone walking along the deck, going toward the forecastle. I know Caleb’s walk, sort of a thump, but it wasn’t his. It sounded more like the way Troll walks. Kind of jerky and fast, as though whoever it was might be in a hurry.”
    The old man tossed the jig overboard and I began to row toward the ship. Around us the waters were black, but we left a long trail of phosphorescence and fiery drops fell from my oars. Whenever I turned to glance at