Just after sun-up Magellan charted our course due south to the river. Us sailors arenít use to battling with the brush, it was thick and so was the flies. We bushwhacked our ways through the forest until we come to a wide, easy flowing river. It was cold and deep but something told me I had to get to the other side. It was nightfall by the time we was across. We lay down on the warm dirt too tuckered to care.
We have been walking for days to locate the olí cemetery shown on the map. I donít know what Iíll find there but Iím ready for anything that gets me closer to the treasure coins. We smelled the cemetery a mile before we came upon it! Blow me down if I donít come across a tall headstone standing high above all the others. It reads FTF (what do these initials mean?) Looks like the bloke died in 1555. Barnacles and seaweed! What does it mean? Me thinks my brain is too water logged for these bloody clues! The men are tired and we hurry to get away from the stench of the dead.
Magellan finds a dense forest of palm trees and we sit down to rest our weary bones. I noticed a wee bird pecking at something at the base of a tree. I hear a click-click of itís beak against something hard. Aye! Jumpiní up faster than water from a whaleís blow hole, I started diggin with me hands.
Blimey! Itís a small container thatís been hidden. I sneaked off a bit to give it a look and found a note telling me about a boat that has been cached on the west shoreline! Donít matter if we are worn thin, we make directly for that boat.
As we reach the west shoreline I spies the vessel, canít be too careful now, that Maloney could be watching. I pull me spyglass out to scan the waters. I looks across the water, is it virtual or is it real? Shiver me timbers if it ainít an island! WOW an area with a view!
At daybreak I wake the men. Hurry mates I call, letís be off, we have to make for the island! Itís a cold morning and the fog is lying thick on the water. The only sound is the haunting call of a lone seagull; itís enough to drive a man to drink! We make to a calm inlet and pulls the boat ashore. Magellan is first to land the boat and I see him bending down and scratchiní that ratty Ėhaired head oíhis. Captain, he says, itís a childís doll! Just as weíre pondering the meaning of the doll a deep rumbling shakes us to the bone. Itís like nothiní we heard before. Itís the drums of the island people, Magellan shouts! Head into the forest before our hair is hanging on them palm trees! Take care maties, he says cause theyíre apt to cut the throat before sayiní hello! Weíve a long night ahead of us . We crouch together in the nearby trees; nobody will shut their eyes tonight with those pounding drums!