A Spirited Gift

The rest of the men stayed on the ship, making preparations to get out of the cove where they would be trapped if the frigates caught them there. The sails were unfurled. We could hear the voices of the sailors yelling orders as they struggled to turn and head out to sea.

But long before they could reach the freedom of the open waters, the British ships were on them. The battle was fierce but short as the ships traded cannon fire. In the end, the single pirate ship was no match for the British ships. The sky seemed to be on fire—smoke filling the air as the pirate ship broke apart and sank into the Atlantic.

“Get to work, ye scurvy bilge rats,” Rafe said gruffly, everyone jumping at the sound of his voice. “What’s past is past. Start digging. Let’s be done with it and get out of this godforsaken place.”

The sailors nodded and put their backs into shoveling sand at the base of a rocky outcropping near the water’s edge. The chest was deep and wide. It took them hours to get a hole deep enough for it using the flimsy tools they had.

When the chest was completely covered in sand, Rafe paced off the location from an odd-looking rock that resembled a duck head (a sign of the town that would be here someday?).

He made marks on the handle of his pistol to remember the number of paces to the place where the chest was buried. Then he grunted—a satisfied sound—and without warning, shot both the crewmen who’d buried the chest. They lay bleeding to death on the shore, waves lapping at their feet.

The young cabin boy was terrified. He didn’t know what to do. Should he run? Was there any way to escape Rafe?

“Drag ’em into the water and be quick about it,” Rafe instructed him. “I don’t want their bones giving away where the treasure is buried.”

“You’ll just kill me when I’m done,” the spunky boy protested.

“I’ll kill ye now if you don’t,” Rafe promised, waving his saber at him.

The boy knew the pistols were finished—they couldn’t be used again until they were reloaded. He knew he was fast but had also seen a pirate trick of throwing a saber or knife a good distance into a runner’s back.

He finally did as he was told, though the task was hard for his young arms. He strained and gritted his teeth, determined to do the job, and hoped the pirate would show him mercy. As dawn began to break over the horizon, he could see a bloody trail where he’d dragged the bodies into the water.