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"I see no sign of inhabitants."
"That's right, sir. Men's scarce about here. We shan't see none, and I don't expect we shall see any s.h.i.+ps go by. Skippers give these waters a wide berth on account of the coral reefs. Strikes me that we shall have to make ourselves comf'table and wait till something turns up. The _Susan's_ as safe as a house. Even if another storm comes, as there will some day, she can't move. She'll get to be more of a fixter as the years go by, with the coral growing up all round her."
"Do you think it will?"
"Think, sir? Why, it grows up just like as if it was so much moss in a wood."
"Then you are ready to make up your mind to be here for years to come?"
"Yes, sir; aren't you?"
The doctor shrugged his shoulders.
"We couldn't be better off, sir. Now, just you wait a bit, sir, and you'll see something. Directly that young chap's well enough, we shan't be able to hold him. He'll be 'bout half mad with delight. He won't want to go away--not for a long time, at all events."
"Well, we shall see," said the doctor. "Now let's go below."
"Right, sir. I wouldn't do anything till you come."
They began a tour of inspection at once, making their way as far down as they could, to find that the lower hold was eight or ten feet deep in water, which covered the heavy cargo of railway iron, machinery, casks, and miscellaneous goods.
"'Bout high water now, sir," said the old sailor. "It'll sink a good deal when the tide's out. We seem to have come on at high water."
"Would it be possible to stop it out, and in the course of time pump the vessel clear?"
"Not if we'd got fifty steam pumps, sir: that water'll flow in and out and be always sweet--I mean salt--for she's got plates below there ripped off like sheets of writing paper. But the water won't hurt us, and the stores such as we want are all above it. There's nothing to mind there."
The doctor nodded in acquiescence, and they went on with their search, to find more and more how well they were provided for, old Bostock chuckling again and again as each advantage came home to him.
"I don't believe no s.h.i.+pwrecked chaps was ever so well off before. Why, it's wonderful how little the _Susan's_ hurt. Look at the store of coals we've got, and at the cook's galley all ready for cooking a chicken--if we had one--or a mutton chop, if the last two sheep hadn't been drowned and washed away along with the cow. Now, that was bad luck, sir. Drop o' milk'd been a fine thing for that there boy if I could ha' squeezed it out. I never did try to milk, sir, but I'd ha'
tried. Don't suppose it would ha' been so very hard, if the old cow would ha' stood still. Milk would be a fine thing for him, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, excellent," said the doctor, with a peculiar smile; "but we have no cow, Bostock."
"Tchah! Of course not, sir," said the old sailor, giving himself a slap on the mouth, "and me talking like that. But hi! Look here, sir," he continued, pointing sh.o.r.eward.
"What at?" said the doctor, who was startled by the man's energy. "What do you see--natives?"
"No, no, sir; there, sir, in a row along beyond the sands. Noo milk for that there lad, sir. Vegetable cows--cocoanuts. Plenty for years to come."
"Yes, we shall be in the midst of plenty," said the doctor, looking wistfully round. "Prisoners, perhaps, but happily provided for. Look yonder, Bostock."
"What at, the birds, sir? I've seen 'em all the morning. Ducks and terns as well as gull things. They seem to be nesting about those rocks yonder. And of coa.r.s.e that means noo-laid eggs for that there boy; yes, and roast duck. There's shooting tackle down below, isn't there, sir?"
"Yes, the captain has arms, and I have a double gun in my cabin."
"There, hark at that, sir," cried the old sailor. "Now what could one wish for more?"
"What indeed?" said the doctor, smiling at his companion's enthusiasm.
"Nothing, sir," cried Bostock. "Yes, there's something, sir, as we haven't got and we must have."
"What's that?"
"A boat, sir, to get ash.o.r.e with. Now, that is a bit o' bad luck."
"Ah, yes, we must have a boat to go ash.o.r.e, and every one has gone."
"Yes, sir, even the little dinghy. That must ha' been washed away, same as the gig, for that warn't launched. But all right, sir; there's other ways o' killing a cat besides hanging. We must make one."
"Or a raft," said the doctor.
"Raft'll do to begin with. Four bunged-up casks and some boards'll do first. That's easy to make on deck, for there's the carpenter's tools, and we can easily rig up tackle to hyste it over the side. It's the boat as'll bother us, but you never know what you can do till you try."
"No, Bostock, you never do."
"That's so, sir. A boat we want, and a boat we'll have. I say, sir, just think of it; won't that there dear lad just enjy having a boat to sail and fish about here in the lagoon, or out yonder across the reef on a calm day?"
"Yes, we must get him well, Bostock," said the doctor, smiling. "Come along: we need not examine our position any more; let's see if he is awake."
"And ready for a drop o' soup, sir. There's rows of them tins o'
portable, as they call it, sir, in the store-room. Drop warmed up ought to be just the thing now, poor lad; he can't work his teeth as he should."
"We'll see," said the doctor, and they made their way towards the saloon, but only to stop short and listen to the sounds which came softly through the cabin bulkheads--sounds which made the old sailor drop into the att.i.tude of one with folded arms about to perform a hornpipe, and executing three or four steps, to end suddenly with a slap on the leg.
"Hear that, sir?" he whispered, softly. "That's what I call real pluck in a lad with his upper works broke clean in half. Just think o' that!"
CHAPTER EIGHT.
It was a pleasant sound: sometimes a mere humming, sometimes the melody sung to a few of the words.
For Carey was lying in his berth with his head turned so that he could gaze through the open port-hole at the glorious, glistening sea, and as the doctor very softly pushed the door a little open there came clearly to the listeners' ears a sc.r.a.p of the old sea song, "The Mermaid":--
"And we jolly sailor boys were sitting up aloft, And the land-lubbers lying down below, below, below, And the land-lubbers lying down below.
"Hullo! Who's that? Oh, you, doctor! I say, what a time you've been!
I'm so hungry. Mayn't I get up?"
"Good signs those, my lad," said the doctor, cheerily; "but not yet,"
and he sat down, after easing the poor boy's bandages, to chat to him about the state of affairs, every word of which was eagerly drunk in, while Bostock played the part of cook and warmed up some gravy soup.
It soon became evident that Carey was going to develop no bad symptoms from the injury to his head, and that his sufferings were to be confined to the broken collar-bone, which, under Doctor Kingsmead's care, gave promise of a rapid knitting together. There was pain enough to bear, but the boy's bright elastic temperament was in his favour. He was what the doctor called a good patient, and health and youth joined to help him on.
As soon as possible he was allowed on deck to watch the making of a raft and use his uninjured gla.s.s in studying the sh.o.r.e of the island, with its constant change of hue. Then, too, there was the reef with the clouds of spray, and the beautiful lagoon, alive at times with the fish which came in with the tide through an opening in the reef, beyond which there was the heaving, open sea.
"It doesn't seem a bit like being s.h.i.+pwrecked," said Carey one day, as he lay back in a cane chair. "One has so many things about one.