CHAPTER XX
MAKING THE BEST OF IT
Captain Spark and the sailor turned at the sound of Bob's voice. The captain gave a joyful cry and started forward. But Tim Flynn, the sailor, with a yell of fear, ran off down the beach in a different direction.
"Here! Come back!" cried the captain, pausing. "What's the matter with you, Tim?"
"Sure I don't want to meet no ghost!" exclaimed the man.
"Ghost? What do you mean?"
"Him," replied Tim, pointing a shaking finger at Bob. "Didn't we see him drown, an' now ain't he here ahead of us to haunt us? Let me go, cap'n."
He was about to run off again, but Bob, who began to understand the superstitious rears of the man, called out:
"It's me, Tim! I'm alive, all right!"
The sailor paused, turned, and, after a long and rather doubting look at the boy, came slowly bade.
"Well, maybe it's all right," he said, "but it's mighty queer.
How'd ye git here?"
"Swam until I struck land. But how did you get here, captain?" and
Bob clasped his relative warmly by the hand.
"Our boat must have been close to the island when it capsized," replied the former commander of the Eagle. "A big wave did the business for us, and then it was every man for himself. Poor Tarbill, he's lost, and so is Pete Bascom. We'll never see either of 'em again. And I'm afraid the rest of the crew are gone, too. No boat could live long in that sea."
"Mr. Tarbill is alive," said Bob.
"How do you know?"
"He's right behind those rocks. He didn't come on because he feared you were cannibals. I'll call him."
Bob set up a shout, and in a few seconds the nervous passenger came cautiously over the top of a pile of stones. When he saw Captain Spark he was reassured and advanced boldly. There was a general shaking of hands, and then the captain remarked:
"Well, now we're here we'll have to sec what we can find in the way of food and shelter. I don't believe this island is inhabited. I didn't know we were so near one. It isn't down on the charts."
"There is plenty of fish and fruit," said Bob, telling how he had used his hook and line to advantage.
"Good!" exclaimed the captain. "I could eat a fish raw, I believe, and my mouth is dry for need of some fresh water."
"Then come on to my camp," said Bob, proudly leading the way.
The captain could not but note the change in the boy. He had a confident air about him now, as if he could take charge of matters. The experience of the shipwreck, terrible as it had been, had taught Bob some needed lessons. But he had yet more to learn.
While Captain Spark and Tim Flynn were wringing the water out of their heavier garments Bob replenished the fire and soon had some fish broiling, for he had caught more than he needed. It did not take long to finish the simple meal, and then the captain spoke.
"We'd better take a survey of the island," he said, "to see what sort of a place we've landed on. If there are any natives here we want to know it. We also want to know what we can expect in the way of things to eat and if there are animals on it. I don't believe there are, however, as the place is too small."
"Let's start right away," proposed Bob. "Perhaps we can find some driftwood, or something to make a hut of, though it's warm enough to sleep out of doors without shelter."
"But not exactly safe in tropical countries," objected the captain. "I hope we can construct some kind of a house. If we can't we'll have to make the best of it, though, for we haven't any tools to work with, except knives."
They started to make a circuit of the island. It was not very large, being about two miles across. The center was thickly wooded with tropical growth, and the captain was glad to note that there were several varieties of good fruit, including a number of cocoanut trees.
"If worst comes to worst we can make a hut of cocoanut leaves," he said. "The natives often do that."
"Oh, dear! I hope there are no cannibals here," said Mr. Tarbill at the mention of the word natives. "Suppose they should eat us up?"
"They'd have to fight first," observed the captain grimly. "I'll not be eaten without a struggle."
"But I never fought a cannibal in my life," objected the nervous castaway. "I shouldn't know how to go about it."
"No more would I, but I'd soon learn. But don't think about such things, Mr. Tarbill."
"I can't help it. I wonder how long it will be before we are rescued?"
"That is a grave question," said the captain slowly. "I fear this island is too far out of the regular course of ships to hope that we will be picked up soon. We must make some kind of a distress signal and hoist it where it will be seen. We'll do that as soon as we have completed the circuit of the island."
It was long past noon, to judge by the position of the sun, when they had circled the island and again reached the place where Bob had built the fire. They had seen no signs of natives, nor any of animals, though there might be small beasts.
"Well, we know what to expect now," said the Captain, as they sat down under the trees to talk matters over. "We'll have to depend for a living on fish, turtles, and fruit. We have no natives to fear, and our situation is not so bad as it might be. Now we had better set about matters in a shipshape and orderly fashion. In the first place we will name our island. There's nothing like having an address where your friends can write to you," he added, with grim humor.
"Let's call it 'Lonely Land,'" suggested Bob.
"I have a better name," said the commander. "It is the custom to call islands and mountains after the person who discovers them. I propose that we name this 'Bob's Island,' for he discovered it first."
"Aye, aye, sir!" cried Tim Flynn heartily.
Bob blushed and was about to protest, but, to his surprise, Mr.
Tarbill joined in and favored the proposition.
"That's settled, then," spoke the captain. "Now you needn't say anything, Bob, we're three to one, and we're going to have our way. So far so good. The next thing is to rig up our distress signal. I'll leave that to Flynn. Tim, climb the highest tree you can find and run up a signal."
"Aye, aye, sir," replied the sailor, saluting and starting off.
"Now then, we'd better catch some more fish for dinner," the captain continued. "I'll leave that to you, Bob, and I'll build another fire, for this one is out. Mr. Tarbill can go and see if he can't catch a couple of turtles."
"Turtles! I never caught a turtle in my life!" exclaimed the nervous man. "I'd be afraid to!"
"Not the least danger," the captain assured him. "All you have to do is to get between them and the water as they're on the beach sunning themselves and turn them on their backs. They'll stay there until I can come and get them. It's time you learned to catch turtles."
"Oh, dear!" sighed Mr. Tarbill. "I wish I was safe home!"
But the captain paid no attention to his protest.
"It'll do him good," he murmured, as the nervous one walked dejectedly off. "He'll not have any nerves left when we get through with him."
Bob had good luck with his hook and line and soon returned with a dozen fine fish. In the meanwhile the captain had built a big fire and had a bed of red coals ready to broil the fish over, for he knew just how to do it.
When the dinner was in process of cooking Tim returned.
"Did you hoist the signal?" asked the captain.
"Aye, aye, sir."
"What did you use for a flag?"
"My shirt, sir."
"Your shirt?"
"Aye, aye, sir. You see I had two on, an outer shirt and an inner shirt. I didn't need the outer shirt as it's so hot here, so I hoisted that on top of a tall tree. It's flying in the breeze now, sir. You can see it from here."
He led the way down to the edge of the water and pointed inland.
Sure enough, flying from a tall cocoanut tree was a white shirt.
It could be seen for a long distance.
"That's a fine idea," complimented the captain. "I forgot when I sent you off that you hadn't any signal flag. But here comes Mr. Tarbill. I wonder if he turned any turtles? Any luck?" he called as the nervous man approached.
"No, sir. The turtles all ran when they heard me coming. Some of them left a lot of eggs behind."
"Did you bring any?"
"No. I didn't think they were good."
"Good? Of course they're good! We'll gather some later. But come on. It's long past dinner time and I guess we're all hungry."
Every one proved it by the manner in which he ate. The meal was a primitive one, with sticks for forks, though they all had pocket-knives, which answered very well to cut the fish. For plates Captain Spark substituted large clam shells, in place of the leaves Bob had used.
"Now I think we had better rig up some kind of a hut for shelter against the night dews," proposed the captain, when they were done eating. "Gather all the cocoanut leaves you can and I'll make a sort of framework."
Bob started up, ready to go off into the forest after leaves, with the sailor and Mr. Tarbill. As he gazed out to sea, where the big waves were still rolling, he saw something that caused him to utter a cry of astonishment.
"What is it?" asked Captain Spark, hurrying to Bob's side.
"There," replied the boy, pointing to some dark object that was rising and falling on the swell.
"It's a boat! A boat capsized!" exclaimed Captain Spark. "We must secure it. It's one from the Eagle. Probably the one we were in."
"Shall I swim out to it?" asked Bob. "Perhaps I can tow it in."
"No, the current is setting toward the beach. It will drift in presently."
CHAPTER XXI
MORE ARRIVALS
All interest in building a hut was temporarily forgotten as the four castaways watched the slow approach of the boat. As it came nearer it was seen to be the captain's gig, in which Bob and his friends had left the ill-fated Eagle.
"Do you think there'll be anything left in her?" asked Bob.
"There will, unless she is smashed," replied Mr. Spark. "The lockers, in which most of the supplies were packed, are water-tight and securely fastened. This is a piece of good luck, if the boat is not stove in. She has turned bottom up, but she may still be sound. She'll soon be here."
When the gig was close enough so that they could wade out to it, Bob and Tim Flynn rolled up their trousers and went through the shallow surf. The beach gradually shelved at this point and they could wade out nearly a quarter of a mile at low tide.
"She's all right, cap'n!" called the sailor, when he and Bob reached the small craft. "Sound as a dollar, and the lockers are closed," he added as the boat rolled partly over.
"Good!" cried the commander. "Pull her in as close as you can and we'll unload her. Then we'll get her above high-water mark. This boat may save our lives."
"How?" asked Mr. Tarbill.
"Why, when the sea goes down we can leave the island in her."
"Leave the island? Never! I'm on dry land now, and I'm never going to trust myself in a boat again."
"Maybe you'll think differently after a bit," said the captain.
By this time Bob and Tim had the boat in very shallow water. They managed to turn it on the keel, and the first thing they saw was the sail in the bottom. Ropes, fastened to various projections, had prevented the canvas from floating away.
"There!" cried the captain, when he saw it. "That solves our shelter problem for us. We'll make a tent. Oh, we're in luck, all right. 'Bob's Island' isn't such a bad place after all."
Bob blushed with pleasure. Then and there he made up his mind that his foolishness should be a thing of the past. He was of some importance in the world now, and it would not do to be playing childish pranks.
But if the captain was delighted at finding the sail, he was much more so when, on opening the lockers, which fastened with patent catches, everything was found to be as "dry as a bone," as Tim Flynn expressed it.
"Now we can have a change from the fish and fruit diet," said the captain, as he showed where the canned food had been stowed away. There were tins of ship's biscuits, some jars of jam and marmalade, plenty of canned beef, tongue and other meats, rice, flour—in short, a bountiful supply for the small party of castaways.
Captain Spark had ordered the boats to be well provisioned when he knew the Eagle was doomed, and his forethought now stood them in good stead.
In another locker was a kit of carpenter's tools, which would come in very handy if they were to remain long on the island, and in another water-tight compartment the captain had stowed his chronometer, his instruments for finding the position of the ship, and some charts.
Owing to the fact that the lockers remained tightly closed when the boat capsized, nothing had been lost out of them, and they had also served to make the gig more buoyant. Practically nothing was missing from the boat save the personal belongings of Bob and the others—their clothing in the valises, the mast which had floated away, and some of the captain's papers relating to the ship. But this did not worry them, as they were now in good shape to live on the island, at least for several weeks.
"All hands to lighten ship!" called the captain, when he had looked over what the boat contained. They made short work of carrying the things from the lockers well up on the beach. With the boat thus made lighter, it was pulled out of reach of the waves.
"Now for a shelter!" the commander called, when the gig had been safely moored. "This sail will make a fine tent."
So it proved when it was set up on some poles which Tim Flynn cut with a light hatchet found among the tools. Mr. Tarbill could not be depended on to do anything, and he was so mournful, standing around and lamenting the fact that he had ever undertaken the trip, that, to get rid of him, Captain Spark sent him off once more to catch turtles, or, if he could not do that, to gather some of the eggs. This last Mr. Tarbill was able to do, but he was not successful in turning any of the crawling creatures over on their backs.
The tent was erected before dark, and, with a cheerful fire burning in front of it, supper was prepared. This time they had tin dishes to eat from, as a supply was found in the gig's lockers.
Tired out with their day's work, and by the struggle with the sea, the castaways all slept soundly. Nor was there any need to stand guard during the night. On beds of palm leaves, under the tent, they slumbered undisturbed until the sun, shining in on them, awoke all four.
"Well, I'm beginning to feel quite to home," remarked the captain, who could be cheerful under misfortune. His good spirits should have been a lesson to Mr. Tarbill. That gentleman had lost nothing but what could be easily replaced, but the captain had lost his fine ship. Still he did not complain, and Bob, seeing his demeanor under trying circumstances, resolved to try and be like the stanch mariner.
After breakfast Captain Spark looked carefully over the gig to see if the craft was seaworthy. He decided that it was, and he sent Tim to look about for a suitable small tree to be cut down as a mast for the sail.
"Are you going to sail away?" asked Mr. Tarbill nervously.
"I don't know. I want to be all ready to do so in case we find it necessary. This noon I will work out our position and locate this island on the chart. Then I can determine how far it is to the nearest mainland, or to a larger island."
"I'll never go in a small boat on this big ocean," declared Mr.
Tarbill.
Captain Spark, who had completed his examination of the gig, was standing near it, idly gazing off across the waste of water, which had greatly subsided since the storm, when he caught sight of some small object about two miles off shore.
"Bob!" he called, "bring me the binoculars," for a pair of marine glasses had been found in one of the lockers.
The captain gazed through the glasses for several seconds. Then he cried out:
"More arrivals! Prepare for company, Bob!"
"Who, captain?"
"There's a boat off there and in it are Mr. Carr, the first mate, and Ned Scudd! But they seem to be in trouble, for they are bailing fast. Their boat must have a hole in it. We'd better go to their rescue!"
CHAPTER XXII
AFLOAT ONCE MORE
Captain Spark laid aside his binoculars and began shoving the gig down toward the line of surf. The tide was about half in.
"Lend a hand!" cried the commander to Mr. Tarbill. There was no need to urge Bob, who had already grasped one side of the gunwale and was helping to push the boat down the beach.
It was almost too much for the captain and Bob, as Mr. Tarbill, however willing he was, could not bring much strength to the work. Fortunately, however, Tim Flynn came from the woods at that moment, dragging after him a long thin pole to serve as a mast. He saw what the captain wanted and ran up to help. Between the three they managed to get the gig afloat.
"Now then! Lively!" cried the commander. "Their boat is settling fast!"
Tim did not need to be told what the object was in launching the gig. Fortunately there had been a spare pair of oars in the craft when she came ashore, the big blades being fastened so they could not float away. With these the captain and Tim began to propel the boat toward the sinking craft in which were Mr. Carr and Ned Scudd. The two latter were bailing so fast that they had no chance to row. Bob also went in the gig, but Mr. Tarbill remained on shore, nervously running up and down, wringing his hands and uttering vain wishes that he had never undertaken a sea voyage for his health.
It was not long before the gig was close to the other boat, and Captain Spark called out a glad greeting to his first mate and the sailor.
"What happened?" he asked.
"We hit some floating wreckage last night," explained Mr. Carr. "Stove quite a hole, but I managed to stuff part of a sail in it, and we did very well until early this morning. Then some of the seams began to open, and we're filling fast."
"I'll take you aboard," said the commander. "We've got a nice little island waiting for you. Where are the other men?"
"Drowned," replied Mr. Carr solemnly. "That is, those who were with me. When we got the hole in us they became frightened and leaped overboard—that is, all but Ned here. I tried to make 'em stay in, but they wouldn't. That is the last I saw of them. The other boat, with Sam Bender and his crew, we lost sight of."
"Poor fellows," murmured the captain.
The first mate and Ned were soon in the captain's gig, and shortly afterward the boat with the hole in her filled and sank.
"Never mind," consoled the captain. "It's shallow here and at low tide we may be able to get her. Anything left in her, Mr. Carr?"
"Considerable provisions in the water-tight compartments. Also some supplies."
"Very good. We'll need 'em all. We're quite a party of castaways now."
"How did you find Bob?" asked the first mate, for his boat had been near when the boy fell overboard.
"Oh, Bob discovered the island for us," replied the commander, and he explained the various happenings.
Shore was soon reached, and then Mr. Carr and Ned, neither of whom had been able to eat much because of the necessity of bailing to keep from sinking, were given a good meal.
The two latest arrivals looked with interest on what had already been done to form a camp. When their wet trousers were hung up to dry in the hot sun, they rested in the shade of the tent and Bob explained his adventures on first reaching the island.
"Have you any idea where we are, captain?" asked Mr. Carr, after a mutual exchange of experiences.
"Only a slight one. I'm going to take an observation this noon. Fortunately, my chronometer did not stop and I can get the correct reckoning."
But the captain was disappointed. At noon the sun was hidden under a dense bank of clouds, and, as "dead reckoning" would have been of no avail, since they had no previous record to go by, he had to postpone matters.
However, there was plenty to do. When the tide went out late that afternoon they saw that it would be possible to get most of the things from the wrecked boat. This kept them busy until dark. Then a big campfire was lighted, and, though the tent was rather crowded with six in it, they managed to sleep fairly comfortably.
The next day it rained, and the castaways put in rather a miserable existence. Fortunately, they had carried the food into the tent, where it was protected from the terrific tropical downpour. The rain kept up for three days, and during all that time Mr. Tarbill never ceased complaining.
As for Bob and the others, they did not mind getting wet through, for the weather was very warm. Under the captain's directions they had built a sort of screen for the fire at the first sign of a storm, making it of green cocoanut tree leaves on slanting poles like a "lean-to," and this kept the blaze going in spite of the wetness, as plenty of dry wood had been gathered before the rain began.
On the fourth day the sun shone brightly, the downpour had ceased, and they rejoiced in the beautiful scenery around them, even though they were shipwrecked and on a strange island.
"We must build a more substantial shelter than the tent," Captain Spark decided that morning. "We may have to stay here for several months, and the tent is not large enough. Besides, we must keep our supplies dry."
They decided to make a small log cabin, and, with this end in view, Bob, the two sailors, and Mr. Carr set off into the woods to hew down trees for this purpose.
Captain Spark and Mr. Tarbill remained behind to get the camp in better shape after the storm. The commander also wished to take a sun observation that noon and work out the position of the island.
As Bob and his three companions were going through the wood, they were surprised to see several birds of brilliant plumage. Some of them sang sweetly.
"That's a good sign!" exclaimed Mr. Carr.
"Why?" asked Bob.
"Because if there are birds on this small island, it shows that there must be a larger island not far away. Birds of this kind live in large forests, and as there are none here, on account of the size of this island, that shows they must come from some other one, or from the mainland."
"I hope you're right," said Bob. "We might be able to get to some other island in the gig, and then we would stand a better chance of being rescued."
When the little party got back to camp, carrying a number of poles for the beginning of the hut, they found Captain Spark preparing to take an observation, as it was nearly noon. He asked Mr. Carr to assist him.
In a few minutes, after taking the altitude of the sun through the sextant and working out a calculation from his table of figures, the captain was able to announce the result, giving the latitude and longitude of the island.
"Why," exclaimed Bob, "that is about the location of the island shown on the parchment map that Captain Obed gave me."
"So it is!" cried the captain. "Where is the map, Bob?"
"Lost overboard with the rest of my things, I suppose, when the boat capsized," was the rueful answer.
"That's so. Now we'll never know whether there was any treasure or not. However, there's no use worrying about that. The best news is that we are not far off from a very large island, at which ships frequently touch for water and provisions."
"Good!" cried Mr. Carr. "About how far off, captain?"
"Not more than two hundred miles."
"But how can we go two hundred miles?" asked Mr. Tarbill.
"In the small boat—my gig—to be sure. We have sufficient provisions for twice that journey, and the boat is large enough."
"I'll never venture to sea in a small boat!" declared the nervous passenger.
The others paid little attention to him, being too much interested in what the captain had to say about the other island. He had never been there, but he had heard of it. It was inhabited by a tribe of friendly natives.
"Shall we start soon?" asked Mr. Carr.
"I think we'll wait a week or two and see what turns up here. We are very comfortable, and I don't want to undertake the voyage in the small boat if there is any chance of a ship taking us off from here."
The thought that they were not so very far from an island, where the chances of rescue were most excellent, put every one in good humor, save Mr. Tarbill. He remained gloomy and nervous.
It was decided to proceed with the building of the hut, and in a few days it was finished and thatched with thick green leaves, that were almost as good as shingles.
"There, now let it rain if it wants to," said Mr. Carr. "We'll be good and dry. The tent can be used as a storehouse for what the hut won't hold."
It seemed as if the rain was going to take them at their word, for there came a steady downpour the next day, and it lasted a week with but few intermissions. They were very weary of it.
Yet through it all Bob kept up his good spirits. He was a changed boy, and though, once or twice, the spirit of mischief seemed about to break out in him, he restrained it, to the secret delight of Captain Spark.
"I was right, after all," he said to Mr. Carr, one day when the rain had ceased. "It needed a sea voyage to straighten Bob out, but I didn't figure on a shipwreck doing it."
The boy was very helpful about camp. No task was too hard for him, no labor too much, and he never grumbled. He had grown almost used to life on the island, as had the other castaways. But Captain Spark had not given up the plan of sailing for the large island. He waited until he thought the weather had settled down and then, one fine morning, he gave the word to load the small boat with all their supplies.
"Do you think we can make it?" asked Mr. Carr.
"I think so. We can try, at any rate. We'll have this island and the log cabin to return to in case we have to turn back."
"Are you really going to put to sea in that small boat?" asked Mr.
Tarbill nervously, when the time for departure came.
"That's what we are," replied the captain.
"Then I'm not going."
"Very well. If you want to stay we'll leave you some provisions, and perhaps, in six months, a ship may pass here and see the shirt signal."
"Six months?"
"Well, maybe longer; maybe a shorter time."
"And I'll have to stay here all alone?"
"That's what you will," answered Captain Spark shortly, for he was beginning to tire of Mr. Tarbill's cowardice.
"Oh, dear! What shall I do?" exclaimed the nervous man.
"Come along with us," suggested Bob.
"I'm afraid."
"Then stay on the island. That won't sink," said the captain.
"I'm afraid of that, too."
"Well, we're going," announced the commander, preparing to aid in shoving the boat down to the water's edge.
"Oh! Don't leave me behind! I'll go! I'll go! But I know I'll be drowned! I'm sure of it!"
"You're a cheerful passenger," murmured the captain, as Mr. Tarbill got into the boat. "Let her go, boys!"
A few minutes later they were afloat once more, leaving "Bob's Island" behind. Would they be able to reach the other one! That was the question in every heart.
CHAPTER XXIII
A SERIOUS LOSS
Under a bright blue sky, with the sun shining down almost a little too warm for comfort, and with the sea very calm, the voyage that meant so much to all of them was begun. They looked back with a little regret at the small island they were leaving. There, at least, they knew they would be safe, but unless they desired to risk the chance of staying there many months, they must make this venture.
"Well, it was a fine little camp," murmured Bob, with a tone of sorrow in his voice.
"Indeed it was," declared Mr. Tarbill. "I wish I was back there now."
"Perhaps we all will be," said Captain Spark gravely, "but there is no use discovering a leak in your boat until it's actually there," which was his way of saying that it was bad luck to cross a bridge until you came to it.
"Now we've got to have some system about this voyage," went on the commander. "We've got enough provisions and water to last us for the trip if we are careful of them. We'll not be able to have any banquets, and I depend upon every one—in which I include myself—to be sparing of the food and drink. There is no telling what may happen."
"I have a very good appetite since taking this sea voyage," murmured Mr. Tarbill. "I can't bear to think of being hungry."
"Well, perhaps there'll be no need for it. I only wanted to warn you. Now I propose to take command of this gig, for it is my property, and I'm going to be obeyed, just as if we were on the Eagle."
"Aye, aye, sir," replied the sailors promptly.
"I'll do my best to bring the craft to the larger island as soon as possible. We'll have to depend somewhat on the wind, for we can't row all that distance in time to make our provisions last. Fortunately, I have a reliable pocket compass, so I can lay our course fairly accurately. Now, Ned Scudd and Tim Flynn, step the mast and hoist the sail and we'll see how our craft behaves under canvas."
The two sailors soon had the sail hoisted, and under the influence of a stiff breeze the gig shot rapidly ahead, the oars being shipped. They had two pairs now, one the spare lot from the gig and the other from the boat Mr. Carr had commanded.
Captain Spark arranged his pocket compass on the stern seat near the tiller, and sitting there he directed the course of the small boat as nearly as he could toward the large island. He and Mr. Carr were to divide the watches of the day and night. There would be four, of six hours each. That is, Captain Spark would be in charge of the boat for six hours, and then Mr. Carr would go on watch for the same length of time, until it became the captain's turn again. In this way each one could get sufficient rest.
The two sailors, Bob and Mr. Tarbill were divided between the two heads of the watch, Bob and Tim Flynn being chosen by the captain.
The food had been carefully stowed away in the lockers, the captain's charts, chronometer and sextant were put where he could easily get at them, and as they had breakfasted before they set off on their voyage, there was nothing to do for several hours but to make themselves as comfortable as possible in the boat.
Had it not been for the worry over what might be the outcome, and had not the dreadful memory of the shipwreck been in all their minds, they might have enjoyed the sail. As it was, no one felt very jolly. Mr. Tarbill was particularly miserable, and was continually finding fault.
"Oh, dear! It's dreadfully hot!" he exclaimed when they had been sailing for several hours and Bob's Island was out of sight. "I'm afraid I shall be sunstruck."
"Get in the shadow of the sail. Go forward," advised Captain Spark.
"I'm afraid to move for fear I'll slip overboard as Bob did."
"Well, if you do we can see to fish you out. It's daylight now."
"Oh, I'm miserable! I wish I had never come on this trip! I know
I shall never live to see home again!"
"I, too, wish you hadn't come," thought the captain, but he really felt sorry for the nervous man.
Finally it grew so hot that Mr. Tarbill could stand it no longer. He decided he would make his way forward, where he could be in the shade of the sail. The others were very warm also, but they did not complain. Even Bob, who was not used to roughing it as were the sailors, stood it bravely, though the hot sun made his head ache.
Mr. Tarbill, who was in the stern, near Captain Spark, arose and started forward. As he did so a wave, larger than any that the boat had previously encountered, careened the craft a bit.
"Oh, I'm going overboard!" exclaimed Mr. Tarbill.
He made a frantic clutch at the air, and really did almost go over the side, but it was due more to his own awkwardness than to anything else. Then he slipped down into the bottom of the gig, but as he did so his arm shot out and something bright and shining was knocked from the after locker over the gunwale into the sea, where it fell with a little splash.
"Now you have done it!" cried the captain, standing up and making a vain grab.
"Done it? Done what?" asked Mr. Tarbill.
"You've knocked overboard the only compass we had! How we're going to find the island now is more than I can tell! This is a serious loss."
CHAPTER XXIV
DAYS OF HOPELESSNESS
The captain's announcement struck terror to every heart. Even Bob, with the little knowledge of the sea he possessed, realized what that meant. They would have to "go it blind" now, and the chances of finding a comparatively small island in that vast ocean were little indeed.
"Did I knock the compass overboard?" asked Mr. Tarbill.
"You certainly did," spoke the captain grimly.
"I—I didn't mean to."
"No, I don't suppose you did. Still, it's on the bottom of the ocean by this time."
"Oh, dear! What shall we do?"
"The best we can. Fortunately, I have a general idea of the direction of our course, and at night I can make a shift to steer by the stars, but it's going to be pretty much guesswork."
"If we can't find the big island, can't we go back to the small one where we were?" asked Bob hopefully.
"It would be about as hard to find that as it's going to be to locate the other now. Still, we'll have to do the best we can. It's your watch, Mr. Carr. Keep her as near as you can about as she is while this wind holds. We'll have a bit to eat now."
The captain dealt out the food and the supply of water. The amount of the latter was very small, as they did not have many casks in which to store a supply for their voyage. Still, no one complained, even Mr. Tarbill being too stunned by what he had done to find any fault.
The day passed slowly, and the breeze kept up. But whether they were being urged on toward the island, or whether the wind had shifted and was bearing them in another direction, was something no one could tell. A deeper gloom than any that had prevailed since the shipwreck fell upon them all.
When it got dark and the stars came out Captain Spark was able to direct the boat to a little better advantage, but when morning came, after the long darkness, during which no one had slept well, they found themselves on a vast, heaving expanse of water.
"Where are we?" asked Mr. Tarbill. "Is the island in sight?"
Captain Spark swept the horizon with his glasses.
"There's not a sail to be seen," he said, "and no sign of land. I thought we would raise the island by this morning."
"Then don't you know where we are?" asked the nervous man.
"I haven't the least idea, except that we are somewhere on the
Pacific Ocean."
The captain spoke rather hopelessly.
"Never mind," said Bob cheerfully. "We've got food enough for a week, and by that time something may happen."
"Yes, something may," said Mr. Carr, with a gloomy look.
"That's the way to talk, Bob," exclaimed the captain. "Never say die. We'll cheat old Davy Jones and his locker yet."
Indeed, Bob's cheerfulness under trying circumstances was something that the captain had marked with satisfaction. The very character of the boy had undergone a change because of what he had been through. He seemed to have grown older and to have a fitting idea of responsibility. Bob was beginning to realize that life was not all play.
It was rather hopeless sailing now, not knowing whether they were headed right or not. Still they kept on. They ate all they wanted, for the food was more plentiful than water, and they knew if worst came to worst they could live for several days without victuals, but not without water.
Slowly the time dragged on. Nobody aboard the craft knew what to do. Once Bob tried to cheer up and hum a ditty, but the effort was a dismal failure.
"Bob, I reckon you are sorry now that you left home and came with me," observed the captain soberly.
"I'm not sorry that I left home," answered the lad promptly. "But I must confess I am sorry that all of us are in such a pickle as this."
"If I had known my ship was going to be wrecked I'd not have taken you on this voyage."
"It is an awful loss."
"Yes—but I sha'n't mind it so much, if only we reach a place of safety."
"Oh, if only I was home!" sighed Mr. Tarbill. "If only I was home!"
"Wouldn't just dry land suit you?" queried Bob, with a bit of his old-time humor.
"I—I suppose so, but I'd like home best."
"Any land would suit me just now," put in the captain.
"Supposing we should land among cannibals!" murmured the nervous passenger.
"I don't believe there are any around here," answered Captain Spark.
"But are you sure?"
"No, I am not sure."
"I knew it! Oh, if the savages got us it would be terrible!" And
Mr. Tarbill shuddered.
"Well, he's a wet blanket, if ever there was one!" declared Mr.
Carr, in deep disgust.
"I am—er—a wet blanket?" demanded the nervous passenger.
"Yes, you are!" declared the other. "And I, for one, am tired of hearing you croak."
"Hum!" murmured Mr. Tarbill, and then, for the time being, he said no more. The constant rocking of the boat made him somewhat sick at the stomach, and he was anything but happy.
Bob could not help but think of home, and of his dear mother and father. If he was lost, what would they say and what would they do?
"Dear folks at home!" he murmured. "If I ever get back you'll find me a different boy, yes, indeed, you will! No more silly tricks for Bob!" And he shut his lips with a firmness that meant a great deal.
The boy had just closed his eyes to take a nap when a loud cry from
Tim Flynn awoke him.
"What's the matter?" he questioned.
"What do you see, Tim?" asked the captain.
The sailor was at the bow, standing up on the seat and gazing far across the rising and falling waters. He did not answer until the craft was on the crest of a high wave.
"A ship!" he exclaimed.
"Where?" came from all of the others in concert.
"Dead ahead!"
Both the captain and Mr. Carr looked and saw that the report was true. Far, far away could be seen a low-lying dark object, with a trail of smoke behind it.
"It's a steamer," said Captain Spark.
"Is it headed this way?" asked Bob, eagerly.
"I believe so."
"Are you sure, sir?" came from Mr. Tarbill. "Please don't make any mistake."
"No, I am not sure. Tim, what do you think?" went on the captain.
The sailor shrugged his shoulders. He was too anxious to even venture an opinion.
How eagerly all on board the little craft watched that dark object so far away! One minute they felt certain the steamer was headed toward them, the next they were afraid it was moving off to the northward.
"Let's sail after the steamer," suggested Bob.
"It won't help us much," answered Mr. Carr.
"Never mind, it will help some," came from Captain Spark, and they sailed and rowed with all the skill and strength they possessed.
"Are we closer?" asked Mr. Tarbill.
"Not yet!" answered the captain.
"Can't we call to them?"
"No—but we can fire a shot," answered Captain Spark, and not one shot but half a dozen were discharged.
"If only the lookout sees us," said Bob. "I wish we could hoist some big signal."
But they had nothing larger than the sail and a shirt. Mr. Carr furnished the garment and it was tied to the masthead. But if those on the steamer saw the signal they gave no sign.
"She's goin' away!" wailed Tim Flynn at last. "Bad luck to her fer lavin' us!"
"Going away!" ejaculated Bob, and his heart sank like a lump of lead in his bosom.
"Don't say that!" wailed Mr. Tarbill. "Shout—fire a gun—anything! They must come and rescue us!" And in his nervousness the man began to caper about wildly.
"Look out, or you'll go overboard!" shouted Captain Spark.
Scarcely had he spoken when the boat was caught by a big wave and stood up almost on end. With a yell Mr. Tarbill slid to the stern, clutched at the gunwale, and disappeared with a splash.
"Man overboard!"
"Of all the fools!" muttered Mr. Carr. "Why couldn't he sit still and behave himself?" His patience, so far as the nervous passenger was concerned, was completely exhausted.
Bob reached for the boathook, and as soon as Mr. Tarbill came up, he caught the iron in the man's coat and hauled him to the side. Then the captain and Tim Flynn hauled him back on board.
"Help! I am drowning! Save me!" spluttered the nervous passenger.
"I'll go to the bottom of the Pacific!"
"No, you won't," answered Captain Spark. "But after this you had better sit still."
"Oh, what a trying experience!" wailed the unfortunate one. He cleared his mouth of water. "Why did you let me go overboard?" he demanded. "Why didn't you stop me when you saw me slipping?"
"Didn't have time," answered the captain. "You ought to thank Bob for hooking you."
"He tore my coat sleeve," said Mr. Tarbill, examining the garment.
"And it's the only coat I have now," he added mournfully.
"Never mind, maybe you won't need a coat soon," put in Mr. Carr, who was more disgusted than ever.
"How's that?"
"If we go down the fish won't care if we have coats on or not—guess they'd rather eat us without coats."
"Oh dear! Oh dear!" gasped the nervous passenger, and then he all but collapsed.
"The steamer is turning!" cried Tim Flynn, who had climbed up the mast to obtain a better view. "Good luck to her if she comes this way!"
"If only we could send her a wireless message!" said Bob.
"Yes, here is where that newfangled telegraphing would come in handy," returned Captain Spark. "But we ain't got no apparatus, so we can't do it."
With anxious eyes all watched the big steamer, which looked to be steering almost for them. The craft was a long way off, so they could make out nothing distinctly.
"It's clouding down—we are going to have a squall!" cried Captain
Spark suddenly.
He pointed to the eastward and the others saw that he was right. As if by magic dark clouds were rolling up from the horizon. The wind died out, and then came in uncertain puffs.
"The steamer is leaving us!" cried Mr. Carr.
"Oh, don't say that, please don't!" wailed Mr. Tarbill.
"Here comes the squall!" cried Captain Spark, and he was right.
Soon a sudden gust of wind struck the sailboat, almost keeling her over. As quickly as it could be done, the sail was lowered and stowed away.
The squall was of short duration, lasting all told not more than ten minutes. Only a few drops of rain fell. Then the clouds rolled off to the westward and it became as clear as before.
"The steamer! It's gone!" shouted Mr. Carr.
"What!" cried Captain Spark.
"Gone, I tell you!"
With great anxiety all strained their eyes to catch some sight of the large craft. At last Tim Flynn pointed with his finger.
"There she is—sailin' right away from us!" he said bitterly.
The words of the Irish tar proved true—the steamer had again altered her course. In a few minutes her dark form was swallowed up in the distant haze.
It must be admitted that all were much cast down by this happening. When the steamer had headed directly for them they had thought sure they would be rescued.
"They must have done it deliberately," said Mr. Tarbill. "Oh, the villains! the scoundrels!"
"I don't believe that," answered Captain Spark. "More'n likely they didn't see us. No captain would be so inhuman as to pass us by."
Two hours dragged by slowly. Tim Flynn was tired out with much watching and had lain down and Ned Scudd had taken his place.
"I see something," said Ned, presently. "Don't know what it is."
He pointed to the southward. There was some low-lying object, with the waves dashing against it.
"Perhaps it's a ship with the masts gone," said Mr. Carr.
"Or a dead whale," suggested Bob.
"It's too big for either a ship or a whale," said the captain.
"Let us sail toward it and make an inspection."
"Don't—don't run into any new danger!" pleaded Mr. Tarbill.
"Anything is better than to remain out on this dreary waste of waters," answered Mr. Carr.
The castaways turned their boat in the direction of the distant object. It was further off than they had anticipated, and as they slowly approached they made out a long, low-lying island, covered with bushes and grass. Over the island hovered myriads of birds.
"An island!" cried Bob. "Now we can go ashore anyhow!"
"Not much of a place, I am afraid," answered Captain Spark, slowly taking in the spot from end to end with his sharp eyes.
"Well, it's better nor nuthin," came from Tim Flynn. "Sure, an' some av thim burds will make good eatin', so they will!"
"We want to be careful how we go ashore," cautioned the captain.
"We don't want to damage our boat."
They approached the new land cautiously. The water all around it seemed to be deep, so there was no danger of striking a hidden reef.
Presently the captain espied a sandy beach, and straight for this the craft was headed. As the boat struck, Bob, Tim and Ned leaped out, followed by Mr. Carr, and, aided by the swells, pulled her well up.
"Am I—er—to get out?" asked Mr. Tarbill timidly.
"As you please," answered Captain Spark, grimly. "I am going ashore."
"Then I'll go, too—I don't want to be left alone," said the nervous passenger.
Soon all were on the beach, and then the boat was dragged higher up still, and tied to several of the low trees near by.
"Let me shoot some birds—they will make fine eating," said Bob to the captain, and permission being given, the young castaway went on a brief hunt. The birds were so thick that he had little difficulty in bringing down several dozen.
"Now we can have a bird pot-pie for supper," declared Mr. Carr, and he looked greatly pleased, and so did the others.
All realized that the island upon which they had landed was not to be compared to that upon which they had previously been cast. The trees were of small account, none of them bearing fruit fit to eat. Some of the bushes contained berries, and Ned began to gather a cupful.
"Go slow there, Ned," said the captain. "They may be poisonous."
"They can't be—for I saw the birds feeding on, them," said Bob.
"Oh, well, then it is all right."
But the berries proved rather bitter to the taste and nobody felt like eating many of them. Tim started a fire, and over this they broiled and roasted the birds, each fixing the evening meal in the way that best suited him.
"Are there any cannibals here?" asked Mr. Tarbill.
"I don't believe there is a soul on the island besides ourselves," answered the captain.
"I can't go to sleep if there are cannibals," groaned the nervous passenger.
As late as it was, Bob, Ned and the captain took a tramp around the island. It was not over a quarter of a mile long and an eighth of a mile wide. There was fairly good walking close to the shore, but the interior was a mass of stunted trees, thorny bushes and long trailing vines, to get through which was impossible.
"I haven't seen what I'd like most to see," said the captain, after the walk was ended.
"What is that?" questioned Bob.
"A spring of good, fresh water."
"That's so—we didn't see any spring at all!" exclaimed Ned Scudd.
"Too bad! We need water."
The castaways were thoroughly tired out, and that night all went to bed and slept soundly. Nothing came to disturb them, although at daybreak Mr. Tarbill leaped up in alarm.
"Hark!" he cried. "Somebody is coming! It must be the cannibals!"
"What!" exclaimed Captain Spark, and he jumped up, followed by the others.
Then all listened. From the interior of the little island came a most unearthly screaming.
"Somebody is being murdered!" gasped Mr. Tarbill, and sank on his knees. "Oh, oh, why did I leave home!"
They listened intently, and then Mr. Carr set up a laugh.
"What is it?" asked Bob, curiously.
"Parrots, my boy, nothing but parrots."
"To be sure—I should have knowed it," came from the captain.
"They allers screech like that in the morning."
"Are you sure they are parrots?" asked the nervous passenger.
"Dead certain," answered Mr. Carr. "If you don't believe it, just go over to yonder trees and shoo them up into the air."
"I—I don't think I care to do that—they might fly at me and peck me."
"Well, they are parrots—and they won't hurt you if you leave 'em alone."
During the morning the search for a spring of water was resumed. At last they found several pools, the water coming up in them from underground. But the birds used the pools for drinking places and they were consequently far from clean.
"How long are we to stay on this island?" asked Mr. Tarbill, while they were eating a breakfast of broiled birds, fish, and crackers.
"Not very long, I'm thinking," answered the captain. "In a storm it wouldn't be a very safe place. The water must sweep the land pretty well, and our boat would be stove to pieces."
"But where are you going?"
"We'll try to make that big island I spoke about," went on the captain. Then of a sudden, he bent closer to the nervous man. "What's that on your watch chain?" he demanded.
"My watch chain?"
"Yes. It looks like a tiny compass to me."
"Why—er—it is a compass," stammered Mr. Tarbill.
"And you never told us that you had it!" roared the captain.
"I—I forgot it!" stammered the passenger. "I—I was so upset, you know."
"Let me see it."
Captain Spark took the compass and examined it with care. It was small, but of good manufacture, and looked as if it might point true.
"Not near as good as the one we lost," he said to Mr. Carr. "But it is better than nothing."
"Indeed it is," was the reply.
"I thought that was a locket," said Bob. "I noticed it on the watch chain several times."
"It was given to me by my uncle, years ago," said Mr. Tarbill.
"Please don't lose it."
"I'll keep it safe, don't fear," answered the captain. "Reckon it is safer in my keepin' than yours," he added.
With the discovery of the tiny compass the hopes of the castaways revived. All felt that it would be a waste of time to remain on the small island, and accordingly preparations were made to leave on the following morning. To add to their stock of provisions the men and Bob brought down a large quantity of birds and also caught a lot of fish, and these were broiled and cooked, to keep them from spoiling. They also got what water they could and stored it in a cask, and Bob picked a capful of berries.
"Some of the parrots are beautiful," said the boy to the captain. "If I was sure of getting home again I'd like to take some of the feathers along, for my mother's hat."
"Better not bother, Bob."
"I'll not. I was only thinking, sir."
"I have great hopes of reaching that large island," went on Captain
Spark. "But, when we embark again, we'll have to take what comes.
That little compass will help us some, but it may not be as
accurate as is necessary."
"Why not stay on this island till a ship comes along?"
"I don't consider this as safe as the other island was."
That night Bob went to bed early. He awoke in the middle of the night to feel somebody or something pulling at his foot.
"Hi! who is there?" he shouted, sitting up. At the same moment came a wild yell from Mr. Tarbill.
"The cannibals have come!" yelled the nervous man. "One of 'em has me by the throat!"
"Stop that row!" came from Captain Spark. "There are no savages here!"
"Maybe he's got the nightmare," suggested Mr. Carr.
"No, no, I am attacked!" bawled Mr. Tarbill.
"I know what they are!" shouted Bob. "Get out of here, you imp!" And he struck something with a stick that was handy. There was a wild chattering and off into the darkness stole several impish figures.
"What were they?" asked Ned, who was still sleepy.
"Monkeys," answered the youth, "Pretty big ones, too."
"Are you sure they weren't cannibals?" queried Mr. Tarbill. "Some of the wild men are very small, you know. In Africa they are not over three feet high."
"Monkeys, true enough," said the captain. "I saw some of 'em watching our camp when we had supper. They were afraid to come close when we were stirring, but I suppose when we were quiet their curiosity got the best of them, and they had to come and feel of us."
"Ugh! I don't want any more of them to come near me," said Mr.
Tarbill, with a shudder.
The weather was all that could be desired, and the captain determined to make the most of it. An early breakfast was had, and then the things were taken back to the boat.
"All aboard!" shouted Captain Spark. "And may we now locate that large island without further trouble."
"Oh, I wish I was home!" groaned Mr. Tarbill.
The boat was floated without difficulty, and the castaways got aboard. They rowed for some distance and then the sail was hoisted. Inside of an hour the little, island faded from their view and once more they found themselves alone on the bosom of the broad Pacific.
The captain had great hopes of the small compass, but he and the others were doomed to disappointment. The compass proved unreliable, as they discovered that night, when the stars came out.
"It's no use," said Captain Spark. "We have got to sail by our wits, if we ever expect to reach a place of safety." And all that day they kept on, not knowing if they were heading in the proper direction or not.
It was just getting dusk of the second day of their voyage, when Tim Flynn, opening a forward locker to set out some things for the evening meal, made a startling discovery.
"The gig has sprung a leak!" he exclaimed.
"A leak!" cried the captain.
"Yes, this locker is half full of water, and all the stuff in it is soaked."
It was true enough. The salt water had come in through some opening of the seams of the previously tight compartment and had done much damage. The victuals were only fit to throw overboard.
"Half rations from now on," said the captain sternly.
"Half rations!" repeated Mr. Tarbill. "Why, I'm awful hungry!"
"And you're liable to be for some days to come," answered the commander. "We'll share and share alike, but every one will have to curb his appetite."
"Oh, this dreadful shipwreck! I wish I had stayed home!"
The others wished the same thing.
It was a night without hope, and the morning broke dull and gray, with the promise of a storm. The wind shifted from point to point until the castaways did not know in which direction they were going, for there was no sun to guide them. The leaky locker was tightly closed, so that there was no danger of the boat filling from it.
The amount of breakfast seemed woefully small to Bob, and he recalled with a start the wish Dent Freeman, the hired man, had expressed, that the boy who tormented him would have to eat seaweed.
"Perhaps I shall before we're through with this," said the lad to himself. "There isn't much more food left."
Still he did not complain, setting a good example in this respect to Mr. Tarbill, who did nothing but find fault, until Captain Spark ordered him to take an oar and with one of the sailors aid in propelling the boat, for the wind had suddenly died out.
For two days more they sailed or rowed on.
The weather continued unsettled, but fortunately not breaking into a storm. Sometimes there was a breeze, and again there was a dead calm, when they took turns at the oars. It was all guesswork as to whether or not they were headed for the island.
The food became less and less, until finally they were living on three dry biscuits a day each. The water, too, was getting lower and lower in the one cask that remained, and it had a warm, brackish taste. Still it was the most precious thing they possessed.
More and more worried became the look on Captain Spark's face. How anxiously each morning and a dozen times a day did he scan the horizon with his glasses for a sight of the island or a ship! But nothing was to be seen save the heaving billows.
Mr. Tarbill became weak-minded, and babbled of cooling streams of water and delicious food until Ned Scudd, losing all patience, threatened to throw the nervous man overboard if he did not cease. This had the effect of quieting him for a while.
The faces of all were haggard and thin. Their eyes were unnaturally bright. Poor Bob bore up bravely, though tears came into his eyes as he thought of his father and mother, and the pleasant and happy home now so far away.
"Bob's as good as a man," whispered the captain to Mr. Carr, and the first mate nodded an assent.
It was the third day of absolute hopelessness. The water was reduced to so little that only a small cupful could be served to each one as the day's supply. Enough biscuits for two days remained. They had lost all sense of direction, for a fog obscured the sun.
On the morning of the fourth day Bob awoke from a troubled sleep to find Mr. Carr dozing at the helm. There was no need to steer, for there had been a dead calm for many hours, and they did not row during the night.
Bob's tongue felt like a piece of rubber in his mouth. His throat was parched and dry, and his stomach craved woefully for food. He stood up on a forward locker, and, taking the captain's glasses, slowly swept them around the sky-line.