Dave Porter in the South Seas Part 45

"Let us separate and see if we can sight the bark," said the captain, and this was done, one party going to the upper end of the island and the other to the lower. But not a trace of the missing vessel was to be seen.

It was a decidedly sober party that gathered on the sands two hours later to discuss the situation and decide upon what was to be done. Here they were, marooned on a deserted island, with no food and but little shelter, and with only two pistols and a shotgun between them. It was certainly not a situation to be envied.

"I used to think, when I was a small boy, that I'd like to play Robinson Crusoe," remarked Roger. "But I've changed my mind, and I'd much rather be back on the s.h.i.+p."

"Humph! If you are going to talk that way, what will you say if we have to stay here weeks, or months, or maybe years?" asked Phil.

"Gracious!" burst out Dave. "You don't think we'll have to stay here years, do you?"

"We'll have to stay until we can git away," was the sage remark of Billy Dill. "Captain, are we in the track o' any s.h.i.+ps?"

Captain Marshall shook his head slowly.

"I don't think we are. That storm blew us far out of our course. I doubt if a s.h.i.+p comes this way once in three months."

"There, what did I tell you!" cried Phil. "But don't think I want to stay," he added, quickly. "I am just as anxious to get away as any one, and anxious to regain my father's s.h.i.+p, too. Why, to lose her would mean a serious loss to my father!"

They talked the matter over until nightfall, but without reaching any satisfactory conclusion. Not one of the party could bring himself to think that he would really have to stay on the island for any great length of time.

"If we do have to stay, we'll have to ra.s.sle around fer somethin' to eat," remarked Billy Dill. "The mean sharks! They might at least have left us a barrel o' salt horse an' some canned goods--an' a little tobacco," he added, dolefully. His pipe was empty and so was his pouch, and this added the last drop to his misery.

As night came on they gathered some driftwood and lit a campfire, not because they were cold, but because it looked more cheerful, and because it also helped to keep away some obnoxious insects that had appeared.

Over the fire they cooked the game Roger and Phil had shot, and made a supper of this and some crackers the boys had been carrying in their pockets. Then they sat down to talk the matter over once more. As the night advanced, the bright stars bespangled the heavens and all became perfectly calm and quiet. Tired out by what had pa.s.sed, one after another sought a comfortable resting-place, and soon all were sound asleep.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE COMING OF THE NATIVES

When Dave awoke, it was with a start. The wind was blowing half a gale and the rain was falling.

"What a change since last night," he murmured to himself, as he sat up.

"h.e.l.lo, are you up already?"

"I am," answered Billy Dill. "Thought as how I'd better keep the fire a-goin', if it's goin' to storm. This ain't so nice, is it?"

"I should say not, indeed. My, now the wind is rising!"

The others soon roused up, and all gathered under the shelter of some dense tropical trees and vines. Soon the rain was pouring down in torrents, shutting out the landscape on all sides.

"Well, in one way, it's a good thing the _Stormy Petrel_ got out of the harbor," remarked Captain Marshall. "This wind might make her s.h.i.+ft, and either throw her up on the island or on to the reef."

They could do nothing with the fire, and so allowed it to die out, and crawled still further into the jungle in an endeavor to keep dry. But the rain followed them, until each one of the party was about soaked.

"This is another one of the comforts of a Robinson Crusoe life,"

remarked Phil. "Soaking wet, and nothing to eat. Oh, don't I wish I was on the bark again and had hold of those mutineers!"

The rain and wind kept up for the best part of that day. There was but little thunder and lightning, and at nightfall the storm died away, although the wind still kept up at a lively rate. During the afternoon they managed to find a turtle in a hollow, and, after turning the creature over, killed it and cooked it in its own sh.e.l.l. The meal was not particularly appetizing, but all were exceedingly hungry and partook of it without a murmur.

"To-morrow we must gather some yams and some plantains, and also do some fis.h.i.+ng," said the captain. "We might go hunting, too, but I would rather save our ammunition for emergencies."

To keep from taking cold in their wet clothing, all slept close to the campfire that night, and early in the morning they hung most of their garments out in the bright suns.h.i.+ne to dry. Fis.h.i.+ng proved good, and the boys and Billy Dill caught over a score of good-sized fish, and also discovered a bed of oysters, which, as Roger declared, "were not half bad, even if they weren't particularly good." In the meantime the captain, who knew not a little about tropical life, tramped around and found some bread-fruit and some luscious berries, which he declared were perfectly good to eat.

"This solves the question of food, at least for the present," said Dave.

"Not a very extensive list of things to eat, but much better than nothing at all."

"What would the boys of Oak Hall say if they could see us?" asked Roger.

"We'll certainly have a tale to tell--if we ever get back to tell it,"

returned Phil.

Having nothing in particular to do, they took their time about preparing the next meal, and, when it was done, it proved to be a regular spread.

Some of the fish made particularly good eating, and the berries topped the repast off in good style.

"I do not believe that the _Stormy Petrel_ will come back to this harbor," said Captain Marshall. "And that being so, I think we had best take ourselves to the other side of the island, to those log huts and shacks you mentioned. That is, most likely, the spot where the natives land and where s.h.i.+ps may stop. We can put up a flag of distress, and, after that, there will be nothing to do but to wait and make the best of it."

"Shall you leave the rowboats here?" asked Dave.

"We can leave one boat here and row around the island in the other. We can carry the craft to some point beyond the reef."

This advice was followed, and beyond the reef line the ocean was found to be comparatively quiet, despite the storm of the day before. All entered the rowboat, and the captain and Billy Dill took the oars, and the voyage to the other side of the island was begun.

By the end of the day they had reached the log houses, and they cleaned out the larger of the two and gave to it as much of a homelike appearance as possible. Then they set to work to gather all the driftwood possible, for they had nothing with which to cut firewood. The boys fell to fis.h.i.+ng once more, and Phil began to manufacture a snare, with which he hoped to trap some small animals that had been discovered at a distance.

Another whole day pa.s.sed by slowly, and they began to feel a little more settled, when, in the middle of the afternoon, Billy Dill, who was out in the rowboat trying to catch some big fish, set up a loud shout.

"What is it?" demanded Captain Marshall, who was busily at work breaking up some of the driftwood.

"I see a big canoe comin', loaded with n.i.g.g.e.rs!" announced the old sailor.

This news brought all to the sh.o.r.e immediately, and they watched the approach of the canoe with much interest. It was all of twenty-five feet in length and manned by twelve dark-colored men, six on each side. The natives in the craft numbered, all told, nineteen, and some of them had guns, while others had bows and arrows and long spears. Each man had also a long and sharp knife stuck in his girdle.

"Do you think they will be friendly?" asked Dave, in a low tone.

"I hope so," answered the captain. "They have nothing to gain by being otherwise."

When the natives discovered the whites, they stopped rowing and set up an animated jabbering among themselves. They looked around, thinking a s.h.i.+p must be close by, and, finding none, were much astonished.

"h.e.l.lo!" called out Captain Marshall, waving a welcome. "Glad to see you!"

To this the natives did not answer. But the canoe was sent closer and finally beached, and the majority of the black men leaped ash.o.r.e, each carrying his weapons with him.

"How do you do?" went on the captain, extending his hand and smiling.

"Glad to see you. Can anybody speak English?"

At the question, one of the natives, a short, thickset fellow with a peculiarly flat nose, came to the front and shook hands.