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Subject: Ghost Ship in the Bermurda Triangle. The Pirate Affair. 10-A. (M/M) ADULTS ONLY
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The Pirate Affair
Chapter Ten
Copyright 1997
by AUTHOR22@aol.com

The trip south was full of concern.

Were they the only ones to survive the wreck of the Bloody Cutlass?

Should they make off with the stashed booty? 

The cook and his young mate cautiously hiked along the seashore, 
constantly alert for any other human being. 

If they should encounter others from the ship, then they would need to 
divide the treasure.  Also, there were the Indians that Captain Frank 
had mentioned who might be friendly if they could pay. The last 
category was their greatest concern: Might the King's men find and 
hang them?

---------------

Anne Bonney didn't give much thought to any encounter. She had rested, 
and intended to head north and maybe west.  

The first thing she needed was a change of clothing, and next would be 
a good horse; with those things she could start a new life; maybe join 
a horse regiment. Having narrowly escaped the hangman's noose she must  
give up the sea. If anyone was looking for her, it would be as a 
woman, or as a seaman.

---------------

Doctor Radliffe had searched the ship looking for his charge. She was 
not onboard. The common conjecture was that Anne had jumped overboard 
to escape capture by the pirates. Privately, he realized one truth 
about the woman; she was a survivor. It would take more than a bit of 
ocean and a few pirates to bring about her end.

During the voyage, he had begun to realize that Anne could not settle 
down as the wife of a doctor.  Her taste for risk made a lesser life 
impossible. He suspected the truth, she had escaped him, not the 
pirates.

However, the good doctor's tribulations were not the major topic of 
gossip. The Captain and First Mate had become quite concerned about 
the two female passengers. When he had agreed to transport them to 
France the itinerary should have put them at their destination months 
ago.

Both girls were teens, and could not be expected to supervise one 
another. On more than one occasion he had heard snippets of 
conversation from his crew that gave foundation to a growing suspicion 
that the girls were "entertaining" in the privacy of their cabins.

This extended voyage, multiple pirate attacks, and delays in Tortuga 
and Jamaica, had made it impossible to fulfill his obligation. The 
girls should be returned to their parents in New Orleans at the 
earliest opportunity. 

Scott and Jerry were still onboard the Seagull, following the Swan 
Louie north to the Carolinas.

After the wrecking of the Bloody Cutlass the two ships sailed on to 
the small seaport of Saint Augustine.

The Captains rowed ashore to report the destruction of the pirate 
vessel. After leaving the fort, they stopped at a waterfront inn for a 
pint. It was then their concerns developed into a plan.

After asking the bar keep about possible ships destined for New 
Orleans, he realized the only responsible thing to do was to send them 
back by land.

They returned to the fort and sought the council of it's commanding 
officer, and learned that there was a well trodden trail that led due 
west across country. It appeared to be a relatively safe route. While 
the Indians were not at war with the whites, neither were they 
friendly. There existed an uneasy live and let live attitude. 

The pressing thorn in the Major's side, when it came to the 
Seminole's, was their willingness to give safe harbor to those outside 
the law; in particular run-a-way slaves.

In the three years that the officer had been in Saint Augustine there 
had been no reports of Indiana attacks on travelers.

However, the trail was little more than a path, and certainly was not 
suitable for wagon travel. Travelers must ride horseback, and camp 
along the trail. The trip could take as little as a week, or as much 
as ten days.

-------------

As the cook, Jacques, and his boy, Arcadia, made their way south they 
did not go unobserved. Out of sight, hidden among the shrubs and trees 
were a small band of Indians who had been attracted by the sounds of a 
ship crashing upon the rocky point.

An idea had begun to form in Jacques mind. If they could keep all of 
the treasure and make their way to New Orleans they could use the 
money to open their own inn.  He had heard that the French seaport was 
expanding rapidly. His boy had taken to cooking with a talent that had 
surprised him.

------------

The shoreline in the vicinity of the wreck site was flat, but not 
barren. The growth was mostly shrubs that had grown to the height of 
small trees.  There was an occasional grove of palms. The area was 
devoid of the thick, mountainous growth that was indigenous of 
Tortuga.

Ann Bonney moved inland and into the undergrowth like a wild animal. 
Out of sight, out of danger.

She crouched, looking first west, then north. There was no one along 
the open beach front. 

A noise behind her startled her. It was a light, fast moving sound in 
the bushes. It must have been some small animal.

She possessed no weapon. That would not do. She began to search for 
something that might substitute, and settled upon a knotted branch 
three feet in length and weighing about ten pounds.

She swung it left and right, getting the feel of it, and then attacked 
a small tree devastating it.

The blood coursing through her veins brought back life and energy. She 
was on her own. She was again in charge of her own destiny.

The attack on the small tree had not been a wise thing to do. The 
noise blanketed the deployment of the six Indians that now crouched, 
hidden from her view, awaiting the signal to take her.

She heard the shrill sound of a bird, and she knew she was in trouble. 
There was something about the sound that was not quite right.

A dumpy dark man with long black hair stepped from behind a bush 
directly in front of her. His left hand bore a hunting knife at the 
ready. 

Even with his knife, she was sure she could take him. Her hand 
tightened on the club. She lifted it, swung it back in readiness for a 
forward attack.

Suddenly she was sitting on her butt. Someone had grabbed her weapon 
and pulled her backward. 

She looked around, and counted six Indians. They did not appear to be 
angry or attacking her. They just stood there observing their catch.

The first man spoke to the others in a language she could not 
understand, and motioned one of the others to tie a rope around her 
wrists. She heard the word Chipacasi and wondered if that was his 
name.

A second, but distant, bird screech was replied to. Minutes later six 
more people emerged from the shrubbery.

Two of them, like her, were tied at the wrists. They had apparently 
put up more of a struggle than had she. The older captive's shirt was 
shredded, and his pants torn. The younger one was totally naked, his 
sizable male member hung softly half way to his knee.

The torn trousers told her that they were sailors, and probably from 
the Bloody Cutlass. It was then that she recognized the boy. He had 
brought food to the captain's table when she and Mary had accompanied 
Jack Rackham as dinner guests in Tortuga harbor. She hoped they would 
not recognize her. Then she realized that what she was wearing told 
everyone that she too was a sailor.

The first Indian looked at the new captives, and said something to one 
of the others, who handed the boy a cloth to bind around his loins.

"Are you from the ship that ran on to the point?"

Anne turned to face the speaker. While he was dressed as were the 
others, he was obviously not Indian. His skin was black, his hair was 
kinky and tight against his skull. "No. I was a passenger on another 
ship which collided with that one, and I was thrown overboard."

No one addressed the obvious lie. Her attire was that of a seaman not 
a passenger.

Arcadia, now covered in a deer skin loin cloth, looked like one of the 
Seminoles. He was thinner than most of them, and his hair was black, 
long, and straight. His skin color matched that of most of the tribe.

Again there was an exchange in the unknown language.

A man, just slightly older than Arcadia stepped forward, untied him 
from Jacques, and led him as though the boy were his personal prize.

Each of the captives found themselves in the custody of one of the 
eight Indians.

The black turned toward Arcadia. "Skatdow has claimed you. While you 
are with us, you will be his responsibility." An evil smile gave extra 
meaning to the rest of the message. "You are his slave, and will obey 
his every command. If you give him any trouble he has the right to 
feed you to the alligators."

Skatdow's smile was reassuring, and fantasies began to develop in 
Arcadia's mind.

The hike to the Seminole village was a short one.

Squaws, children, and other braves came into the clearing. They had 
expected the exploration to reward them with tangible things salvaged 
from a ship wreck, not three additional mouths to feed.

A heated discussion was taking place amongst the older men. That was 
interrupted by a heavy set woman whose voice was demanding, and 
authoritative.

She apparently had had the last word, turned to Jacques, took his 
binding and led him to her tepee. 

Even in a foreign language the laughter, and intonation left little 
doubt why the old woman had acquired the Frenchman.

Skatdow led Arcadia to a pile of wood, pointed toward an Axe, and 
mimed the command to cut it.

The boy thought to himself, "It's too damned hot." The Florida sun was 
now high in the sky and would remain so for quite a long time.

Sweat poured from his forehead and into his eyes, burning them. He 
wiped his arm across his face, and then groaned at the size of the 
pile of logs to be chopped.

The boy approached the dreaded task, lifted the axe, preparing to 
split a log at his feet.

A dull pain throbbed in his left shoulder, yet he drove the axe 
downward until he heard the wonderful crunching sound of splitting 
wood.

At first he was pissed at Skatdow for assigning him this task. But he 
reasoned it was an attempt to convey the message that he was Skatdow's 
property, and must be obeyed.

"I sure wish he could 'a found a lighter axe." Its weight was meant 
for a full grown man.

The muscles in his left shoulder and back cried out each time he 
raised the heavy blade. Clumsily, he drove his weapon downward with a 
momentary hatred for his master.

He groaned loudly realizing it was a bad chop. The axe head had buried 
itself deep in the log's yellowish flesh. He tugged on the handle 
without success, cursing at the sharp pains in his shoulder. Sweat ran 
down his back and under his loin cloth causing an itch on his butt.     

The leather garment seemed to have tightened from his sweat. He tried 
to put his hand inside to scratch himself, but it was too tight.

He loosed the drawn string allowing the under cup to sag down. A 
slight breeze wafted from the east. The feel of air passing over his 
butt and sweaty thighs was most welcome.

He took a firm grip on the axe handle, and lifted the heavy log from 
the ground. He took several deep breaths, ignored the pain, raised the 
log even higher, then dropped it with force. A loud crack was his 
reward as the log split announcing the blade's freedom.

He celebrated his conquering of the log with a short rest, then 
propped another log upright. This time his axe found its mark with 
care and split it. He kicked the two pieces away and quickly readied 
another while trying not to notice how many were yet to be chopped. He 
only allowed his eyes to admire the completed work.

Everything around him became a blur as he concentrated on his task. He 
set up another log, lifted the heavy axe while ignoring the pain, 
swung downward, and "crack!" 

He repeated the wearying drudge.

>From time to time a villager would stop by to watch the new property 
at work.

After awhile the pile of firewood outnumbered the logs to be cut. His 
axe swung faster in spite of the pain. 

He wondered how many Indian men would stop by to watch. The younger 
ones were clad in simple breechcloths. He liked to look at their 
tanned bodies and daydream about the primitive rites they likely 
performed with each other.

A tight bulge had formed in the front of his leather covered crotch. 
He had become excited from thinking about wild savages and wondered 
about their sexual habits.

He had no onlookers, so he decided to take another breather. He 
clasped the axe blade in his hands, and dropped the wooden handle over 
his crotch. Without conscious thought his hips ground his groin 
against it. He closed his eyes and daydreamed:

He was swimming in a river with his new Indian friend. Their breech 
cloths were piled together on the bank. They were swimming as youths 
do; a bit of tag, naughty hands touch daringly where they shouldn't. 
His authoritative companion leaves the water which then glistened on 
his firm, brown behind. 

In his reverie Arcadia's feelings were titillated into action. The 
sensuousness slipped from fantasy into reality. He consciously ended 
his lusty daydream. He was too close to climaxing! One part of him 
wished to get caught, but a wet puddle in the crotch of his loin cloth 
would be visible to all.

Furtively he looked around, to make certain that he was not being 
observed, and was embarrassed to discover two small boys pointing to 
him and laughing. He repositioned himself vertically, pulled the 
breech cloth firmly upward, and retied it.

Once again he raised the heavy axe and continued his chore, replacing 
his musings with hard work. Surprisingly the pain in his shoulder had 
disappeared. 

-----------------

Anne, who now, was answering to the name of Arnie, had been assigned 
to a hunting party. 

That party of five proceeded, on foot, south and west into a swampy 
region. There was a smell to the air which came from stagnant water.

Only the sounds of an occasional squawking bird, and the ever present 
croak of a Leopard Frog could be heard. Then that changed to absolute 
silence. 

The lead brave signaled them to stop. He looked around with both his 
eyes and his ears.

Then there was a furtive rustle in the saw grass followed by the 
sounds of something moving through water.

They stepped forward, a foot at time, in an attempt to see more yet 
not spook the wild life.

At first the tannin brown pond looked like it was devoid of life, 
except for a small ripple in the vicinity of a log.

A kite bird swooped down, gliding along the surface of the water, 
hoping to find an insect for it's dinner.

The ripples dampened into nonexistence. The bird circled, and landed 
on the log. And still all way quiet.

Quite suddenly there was a ferocious movement as a heavy tail lashed 
out of the water striking the tiny fowl. Instantly a mouth of flashing 
white and red appeared at the end of the log. Two rows of keen teeth 
snapped shut as a scissors-like jaw closed and the bird became the 
meal.

The alligator slid through the water, then submerged, and absolute 
silence returned to the swamp.

The Indians moved closer to the pond. Just ahead of them, laying 
quietly on a flat point of land was another 'gator. He seemed to be 
asleep as the sun warmed it's body.

Ann moved closer while the others stood still.

She had seen alligators in Jamaica and had always wanted to hunt one; 
now was her chance.

She turned toward the nearest brave, pointed to the knife at his 
waist.

The brave shook his head "No".

She shrugged her shoulders, then leapt at the reptile, grabbed the end 
of it's tail, and swung it in circles around her head. The startled 
animal was being held by centrifugal force. Ann released the creature. 
It sailed through the air and struck a nearby cypress tree with such 
impact that the trunk vibrated, and the hanging Spanish moss swayed 
wildly. The unconscious reptile lay on its back.

The Indian who had refused her the knife placed it in her hand. She 
moved fast; she would have to kill the 'gator before it regained 
consciousness.

A quick plunge in the neck, just below the jaw, was followed by a 
forceful downward cut. This animal would be their meal.

She moved away from her prey, and returned the knife to it's owner.

A sound of approval came from the astonished hunters.

Two others stepped forward and proceeded to gut the creature, and then 
tied it to a pole.

The party returned to the village, and Arnie's (Anne) status had 
changed.

---------------

The tepee's of the Seminole Indians was not like those of their 
northern counterparts. They were neither conical nor portable. 

Each dwelling was rectangular, constructed from logs. The shelters 
were little more than four poles supporting a roof made from palm 
fronds.

Each was built upon a wooden platform which raised the floor at least 
two feet above the bare ground.

Long blades of saw grass had been woven into curtains which could be 
lowered to provide a degree of protection and privacy. Mostly, they 
remained rolled up allowing what ever breeze there might be to cool 
the interior. The one exception was the tepee to which Jacques had 
been taken.

In the late afternoon the village women gathered, and began preparing 
a community meal. 

A fire had been built. Once the burning had changed from flames to 
coals they roasted chunks of the alligator along with a number of 
rabbits.

It was during that meal the captives learned that slavery was not 
customary among the Seminole. Mostly that practice was limited to 
short intervals during which captive whites were taught the lesson of 
how unfair slavery was to other humans. The invading Spaniards had 
taught their ancestors well more than two generations ago.

The cruel memory of the Spaniard Narvez feeding the chief's great 
great grandmother alive to snarling greyhounds would remain forever as 
her screams still echoed through the ages; the event being lived and 
re-lived in the history of the tribe.

Jacques had proposed that they remain with the Indians for a week or 
two until they would be safe from arrest. They offered to pay for 
their keep.

In the end, the negotiation permitted them to retrieve the treasure, 
buy horses and supplies, and then proceed west as soon as they felt it 
to be safe.

The Indians assumed that the price included all three of the captives. 
Jacques was not happy about that, but kept his peace, not wanting to 
sour the deal. To himself he resolved to talk to the seaman.

That night the sleeping arrangements surprised them all.

Arcadia slept in Skatdow's tepee, but the curtains remained up, and 
they slept at opposite ends of the structure.

Jacques returned to the privacy of the old woman's quarters.

Ann retired, as had Arcadia, sharing the tepee of the Indian who would 
not loan her his knife; curtains rolled up, and laying at opposite 
ends of the structure.

All three of them slept soundly, each having exhausted themselves in 
the performance of their assigned tasks.

Early next morning she was awakened by the sounds of someone on horse 
back, entering the village at a gallop. Her eyes flinched at the 
brightness of the sun. 

As he dismounted two braves came out of their huts, and crossed the 
open ground. The stranger was an Indian, but he was dressed in a piece 
meal assemblage of a Spanish army uniform. The eldest villager hugged 
the soldier to his breast. They spoke quietly, then the rider rode 
back to the east from whence he came.

The early morning visit had stirred the village. Squaws came into the 
open and asked what it was about.

Soon it became common knowledge that the fort had sent a party to 
scout the beach to verify the destruction of the Bloody Cutlass, and 
look for survivors.

The Indian was from this village. While he was employed by the Army, 
he was placed there by his chief to keep the Seminoles apprised of 
army action, and policy. He was a spy.

He reported that the Seminoles had searched the area, and there were 
no survivors.

Nevertheless the four horsemen rode south along the beach with an eye 
to the sky for circling birds. Before noon they had returned to the 
fort.

------------------

The Seagull and the Swan Louie were moored within hailing distance of 
one another. The closeness of shared danger had bonded the two crews; 
to a point. However the French ship did not know the Seagull's deepest 
secret: Two of it's crew were ghosts.

Lucy was delighted when she heard the news that they were to be 
returned to New Orleans. Julie was not. She had left home as a virgin.

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