Even now he found himself calculating how much gold he had brought away in the two bags, and what would be its value in coined money, multiplying and estimating with his food untouched and his eyes fixed on the distant sea.  Suddenly he clenched his fist and struck it on his knee.

“I must stop this,” he said.  “I shall be upset if I don’t.  I will not count the bars in those bags.  I will not make any more estimates.  A rough guess now and then I cannot help, but what I have to do is to bring away all the gold I can.  It will be time enough to find out what it is worth when it is safe somewhere in North America.”

When the captain had finished his meal, he went to his tent, and opened one of the trunks which he had brought with him, and which were supposed to contain the clothes and personal effects he had bought in Lima.  This trunk, however, was entirely filled with rolls of cheap cotton cloth, coarse and strong, but not heavy.  With a pair of shears he proceeded to cut from one of these some pieces, rather more than a foot square.  Then, taking from his canvas bags as many of the gold bars as he thought would weigh twelve or fifteen pounds, trying not to count them as he did so, he made a little package of them, tying the corners of the cloth together with a strong cord.  When five of these bundles had been prepared, his gold was exhausted, and then he carried the small bundles out to the guano-bags.

He had bought his guano in bulk, and it had been put into bags under his own supervision, for it was only in bags that the ship which was to take it north would receive it.  The bags were new and good, and Captain Horn believed that each of them could be made twelve or fifteen pounds heavier without attracting the attention of those who might have to lift them, for they were very heavy as it was.

He now opened a bag of guano, and thrusting a stick down into its contents, he twisted it about until he had made a cavity which enabled him, with a little trouble, to thrust one of the packages of gold down into the centre of the bag.  Then he pressed the guano down firmly, and sewed up the bag again, being provided with needles and an abundance of necessary cord.  When this was done, the bag containing the gold did not differ in appearance from the others, and the captain again assured himself that the additional weight would not be noticed by a common stevedore, especially if all the bags were about the same weight.  At this thought he stopped work and looked out toward the sea, his mind involuntarily leaping out toward calculations based upon the happy chance of his being able to load all the bags; but he checked himself.  “Stop that,” he said.  “Go to work!”

Five guano-bags were packed, each with its bundle of gold, but the task was a disagreeable, almost a distressing, one, for the strong ammoniacal odor sometimes almost overpowered the captain, who had a great dislike for such smells.  But he never drew back, except now and then to turn his head and take a breath of purer air.  He was trying to make his fortune, and when men are doing that, their likes and dislikes must stand aside.