distance.”
“O, we can’t tell. They may have got into another direction altogether.”
“Well, I suppose they’ll find us some time.”
“I’m sure I don’t care.”
“Nor do I.”
“Nor I.”
“Nor I.”
“We’ll have to prepare for life on a desert island. To-morrow we’ll
explore it, and build Our camp. It’s lucky we have a hatchet and a
pistol.”
“It’s lucky we have lobsters.”
“O, we’ll find lots of other things. There are sea-gulls’ eggs, I’ll
bet.”
“And clams.”
“And perhaps oysters.”
“We’ll have to organize a government, and build a town. Wigwams will
make the best houses.”
“No--spruce camps.”
“O, wigwams are the only things that will keep the rain off.”
“I wonder if we can find any birch bark.”
“We must explore to-morrow.”
“There’s one thing more to do to-night,” said Arthur. “For my part, I
don’t want to have to run down to that miserable boat every ten minutes
till high tide. I’ve had enough of her for one day. We must get her up
now. There’s a lot of round sticks in that pile, and we can use them as
rollers; so let’s go and get the boat up now.”
This proposition was at once acted on. Four good round sticks were
found, and some others to serve as levers. With these the boys started
off to move the boat.
They found it hard work, but practicable. The progress was slow, and it
took a good hour; but at last they had the satisfaction of seeing the
boat above high-water mark, and fastened to a piece of projecting rock.
Then they selected sleeping places, and spread their beds. After this
they heaped up fresh fuel, and sat around the fire, making a hundred
plans for their desert life. Arthur was the only one who did anything.
He had found a piece of tough spruce, and with hatchet, and knife was
busily shaping it into an oar.
At last they all retired to their beds, and slept.
VIII.
_Blue Sky.--Building a House.--The Signal Staff.--A fatal
Disgust.--Mournful Forebodings._
EARLY the next morning the boys were all up, quite refreshed, in
spite of their unaccustomed beds. They gathered the embers of the fire
together, and heaping on fresh fuel, started it into a blaze. Then they
proceeded to secure a breakfast. This could not be immediately attended
to, however, for the tide was not at its lowest ebb, and it was
necessary to wait for two or three hours. Enough shell-fish remained to
stay their appetites till something better could be procured.
To their great joy, they saw that the fog had all gone. A warm, fresh
breeze was blowing, the sky was clear and cloudless, and the sun rose
brilliantly, casting his dazzling rays in a radiant flood of lustre
across the sea. If there had been any feeling of discontent, it would
have been dispelled by the grandeur of the scene.
Some eight or ten miles away they saw the main land. Far away, on the
other side of the bay, they saw a line of hills, terminating in the
familiar form of Blomidon, while, looking along the beach, they saw
lying beyond this island the one on which they had landed the day
before. They now knew that they had drifted past that, and had gone
ashore on the adjoining one, and they could understand the whole of that
course which they had made blindly through the fog. It was with much
eagerness that they looked around for the schooner. But they saw no
traces of her whatever. The place where she had anchored was plainly
discernible, but she had gone. It was not difficult to know the reason
of this, since it was the very thing which they expected would happen.
But where was the schooner now? Which way had she gone? When would she
return? How could those on board possibly find them out? All these were
questions which it was not easy to answer.
While waiting for the tide to fall, they wandered up the banks in order
to select some place suitable for a camp. It was not long before they
settled on a spot which seemed very suitable. Near where they had built
the fire, the cliff ended, and the side of the island became a wooded
slope. About fifty feet above the fire, there was a broad, open
platform, free from trees and covered with moss. Walking on beyond this,
they ascended to the edge of the cliff, where it stood up two hundred
feet above the shore. Here grew a solitary tree about fifty feet
high, and very conspicuous from its situation. Around it the rock was
uncovered in places.
The discovery of these places filled them with delight. They had already
decided to build a camp, and the platform first mentioned seemed to all
to be very suitable.
“But we must find a spring somewhere,” said Bruce, who, after his
night’s rest, declared himself as well as ever.
“So we must,” said Bart. “Boys, let some of us hunt up a spring.”
Off they went in different directions, and soon every one was shouting
out a discovery of water. In fact, in that damp and well-watered
country, springs can easily be found on every hill-side. The nearest one
was the best, and by breaking away some of the earth and digging a hole
with a stone in the clay of the bank, a well was rudely formed, which
was suitable for all immediate needs.
By the time they had finished these explorations, the tide was
sufficiently low to admit of a search for their breakfast. All the boys
went off, since all were equally interested. The search was perfectly
successful, resulting in the capture of thirteen lobsters and a great
quantity of shrimps. Bringing back their prey in triumph, they heated a
large number of stones and cooked all the lobsters together, partly for
the sake of keeping them better, and partly that they might have a good
supply of ready-cooked provisions on hand.
“Do you know, boys,” said Phil Kennedy, as they sat at breakfast, “I’ve
got an idea?”
“Good for you. What is it?”
“Why, we ought to have a signal.”
“That’s true.”
“Well, my plan is to have a signal up there,” said Phil, pointing to the
solitary tree on the top of the cliff.
“How can you manage it?”
“Why, turn that tree into a flag-staff by cutting off the branches.,
I can climb it, and if I can have the hatchet for a little-while, I’ll
promise to get every branch off.”
“Well, now, Phil,” said Bruce, “I call that a first-rate idea. But where
will you get a flag?”
“I’ll fasten my red shirt on.”
“Hurrah!” cried all, clapping Phil on the back. “Phil, you’re a genius.”
“Talking about signals,” said Tom Crawford, “a flag won’t be enough. We
want something for nights and for foggy days. We ought to build a
heap of dry brush and kindling, and be ready to light it at a moment’s
notice. Perhaps it would be too much trouble to keep it going all
night.”
“Yes; it would,” said Bruce. “The best thing would be to have a pile
ready to light. But the first thing to do is to build our camp, and
we’ll have lots of brush ready for the pile. Phil can have the hatchet
to trim the tree after we have cut the poles and things for the camp.”
“What kind of a camp shall we have?”
“A wigwam.”
“Where’ll we get the birch bark?”
“Explore the island.”
“That’ll take too much time. We want a camp to-day, and a camp we must
have. The best way will be to build an ordinary one of poles and spruce
brush, and after that is built, we can look about for birch bark.”
“And then I’ve got my oar to finish,” said Arthur, who had been working
on it at intervals all the morning.
“Well,” said Bart, “suppose we go to work at the camp first. We’ll want
something to fasten it with. If you like, I’ll go and hunt after some
roots that I know of. They’ll do first rate for ropes.”
“All right; and we’ll go and cut the poles.”
Off they went, four of them after poles and brush, and Bart after roots
for ropes. The hatchet served to cut the poles, and the knives to trim
them. Four industrious boys, working diligently at this, soon laid low a
large number of straight, slender maple trees and an immense quantity
of fir branches. These they all dragged to that platform which they had
selected as the site of their house, and then looked about to find
the best situation for the temporary camp. As they expected to build a
better one, they chose a place which would not interfere with any future
operations. It was at the rear of the platform. Four trees grew there,
at nearly equal distances, in the form of a square. They determined
to adopt these trees as part of the frame of the camp, and use them as
corner posts. Bart had succeeded in finding an immense quantity of long,
flexible roots, some of which were sassafras roots, others the long
roots of willow trees, and all very tough and strong. First of all,
they laid four of their strongest poles from tree to tree, the rear pole
being about eight feet high, and the front one five feet. The side poles
sloped up from front to rear. There they stuck a large number of poles
into the ground in front, on the sides and in the rear, about a foot
apart, leaving space for a door and a window. Then they laid poles over
the top crosswise, so as to form a good foundation for a roof. All these
were firmly fastened, so that at last, when the frame was completed, it
was as secure as though it had been nailed together; in fact, much more
so.
So far, all had been well and successfully accomplished; but the next
task was a more difficult one. This consisted in interweaving fir brush
between the poles, so that they should be firm and strong. Beginning at
the bottom, each bush was carefully inserted and pressed as closely down
as possible. It was a tedious process; but the five industrious boys
worked unweariedly, and at last had the satisfaction of seeing the rear
and the right side completed. Then they concluded to rest for a while
and dine.
Cold lobster and cold water were all the fare that they could command;
but they ate with a good appetite, and greatly enjoyed the brief respite
from their hard work. After this was over, they returned to their task,
and at length completed the front and the left side.
Now the roof remained. This was the most difficult task of all. Three
boys went on the roof, and two below handed up brush as fast as it was
required. They began at the lower side in front, and inserted the brush
so as to lie along the slope of the roof like thatch. The butt-end of
each bush was inserted, and the brush ends projected. The flat branches
of fir trees are of such a nature that they will lie very close to any
surface on which they may be placed. These brushes were all placed in
double layers; each upper row overlapped the lower one; and thus a roof
was formed thick and close enough to turn any ordinary fall of rain,
though, of course, it could not be expected to keep out the water in
case of a prolonged storm. After the roof was all covered, the last
brush at the upper edge was intertwined with others which were placed
across them, and these again were all securely fastened to the poles
below.
Then their spruce camp was finished, and was almost an exact counterpart
of the one which they had built in the woods. They had done it well and
quickly, for long practice in this work in their own woods had given
them great skill in the construction of such buildings as these.
The last thing to attend to was the beds. All the brush that remained
was brought inside and laid lengthwise at-the rear of the camp. Then
they went into the woods, and gathered an immense quantity of dry, soft
moss, which they spread over the spruce brush. In this way they formed a
bed large enough for the whole party, as soft as a hair mattress, and as
good as anything can be for the repose of a weary frame.
This completed their work, and it was not yet sundown. They had worked
nobly; and when they stood out on the platform, and regarded their
handiwork, their delight burst forth in ringing cheers.
And now Phil claimed the hatchet, so as to carry out his cherished
purpose of forming a signal staff. The others all went up to watch him
at his work. Phil climbed up without any difficulty, and began at the
upper branches, cutting away on a level with his waist, and using the
lower ones to stand on. Phil was skilful with his hatchet; the branches
were not large, and came tumbling down, beneath his strokes, with great
rapidity. These the boys below gathered together, and heaped up in a
pile, at a sufficient distance off to burn without injury to the signal
staff, and yet in such a situation that any flame would be conspicuous
to those on the sea. The work was soon accomplished; the last branch
fell, and Phil descended to the ground. Where the tree had lately been
there now arose a tall staff, naked, and ready to bear at its summit a
red shirt, a pair of trousers, or anything else which the fancy of Phil
might suggest as suitable to the place and the occasion.
Meanwhile Arthur had gone to the beach, and returned with an armful of
shavings and choppings from the wood which he had been trying to fashion
into an oar. They were dry and fine, and were intended to serve as
kindling whenever the time might come for kindling the signal fire.
And now one thing more remained to be done. They had decided to have
their fire on the platform in front of the camp--a place which was
greatly superior to the beach for such a purpose, and which also would
give them the advantage of a warm fire on a cool evening and a light
close by their dwelling-place. So they went out to collect drift-wood,
and carried up a large quantity to the place. Good stones were also
selected for cooking purposes, and the cold lobsters were carefully
brought from the beach, and deposited in the camp. But the labor of
carrying the drift-wood up the steep bank showed them that it would
be as well not to be too lavish with their fuel. In order to have the
cheerfulness of brilliant light along with the gratefulness of warmth,
they cut a quantity of brush, which they intended to throw on the fire
from time to time. Thus, with a comfortable camp, and soft beds of moss,
and plenty of fuel, and a pleasant fire, with food and drink, with fine
weather and a charming view, the “B. O. W. C.” might be considered as
tolerably happy.
And so they would have been, if it had not been for one thing--a thing
which revealed itself to them during their evening repast, and soon
threw a gloom over their prospects.
It was dark; the fire was lighted, and threw out a cheerful glow; the
cold lobster was brought out, and the boys began to partake. For some
time nothing was said. At last, the silence was broken by Bart. He had
been twisting a leg of the lobster fastidiously in his fingers, and
nibbling little morsels of it, in a way which did not look very much
like the fashion of a hungry boy who had done a good day’s work, when
suddenly he flung the lobster’s leg into the fire.
“I can’t stand the abominable stuff any longer,” he cried.
“Neither can I,” said Bruce.
“Nor I”--“Nor I”--“Nor I”--said all the others; and the fragments of the
lobster were all contemptuously thrown away.
“What are we going to do about it?” asked Tom Crawford, mournfully.
“I wouldn’t care if there was even a raw potato,” said Bart, “or a
mouldy ship-biscuit, or an old dried turnip, or a bit of pork, or
anything else to eat with it so as to take off the edge of it; but to
eat nothing else but this everlasting lobster, lobster, lobster, is more
than I can stand.”
“Tea last night,” said Tom Crawford, dolefully, “lobster. Breakfast this
morning, lobster. During the morning I felt hollow--lobster. At dinner,
lobster. For my part, I’ve had enough of it.”
“What can we do?”
“I’m tired of shrimps.”
“Bother shrimps.”
“O for a good slice of bread and butter!”
“Or a good mealy potato!”
“Or a beefsteak!”
“Or crackers and cheese!”
“What are we going to do? We’ll have to eat lobster, or starve.”
“I feel,” said Phil, “that I’m growing to be a lobster myself; my skin
is turning quite hard.”
“I’m beginning to lose faith in desert islands,” said Arthur.
“Yes,--they’re a failure.”
“But how do we know?” said Bart. “We haven’t explored yet. We don’t know
half of what may be on the island.”
“We know pretty well what there is,” said Bruce. “Spruce trees, maple
trees, moss, and rocks,--that’s about all.”
“Unfortunately, it isn’t a South Sea island, and so we can’t expect to
pull cocoa-nuts from the trees, or have bread-fruit for our breakfasts.
There are no mangoes, no bananas, no oranges, no grapes, no nothing,
unless we choose to eat bark and fir cones.”
“The next time we try a desert island, boys, I move that we make tracks
for the Pacific Ocean,” said Arthur.
“I second that motion,” cried Phil.
“It’s rather odd,” said Bart, “that all of us should get tired of
lobster at the same time.”
“It would be odder yet,” said Tom, “if any of us had been able to stand
it any longer.”
“That’s about the thing,” said Bruce. “And so the question remains yet,”
said Arthur, “What are we going to do?”
No one answered. They all sat looking at the fire. Phil seized some
brush and flung it on; the flames caught it, and crackled through it,
and dashed up fiercely and brightly, lighting up five very hungry, very
tired, and very discontented faces.
“Hurrah!” cried Bart at last, starting to his feet. “Hurrah! I have it!”
“What’s that?”
“Gulls’ eggs!” said Bart.
“Not bad,” said Bruce. “At any rate we can try it. Perhaps we may find
some young gulls. They eat young rooks in England; why shouldn’t young
gulls be good?”
“We’ll try it to-morrow,” said Tom.
“At any rate,” said Bart, “it all comes to this. We must explore the
island. I’ve got my pistol. Who knows what may turn up. We may come
across lots of rabbits, or, at any rate, wild fowl. Come, now, things
are not so bad after all. Tomorrow will show us what the chances are
for our dinner table.”
This was now the only consolation they had. The lobsters had grown
abhorrent, and they could not think of touching them any more. Hungry as
they were after all their hard work, they threw aside the only food that
they could get. They were compelled to go supperless to bed, and there
dream of more agreeable food. Fortunately, though they could not eat,
they could sleep; and soon all were wandering far away in the land of
Nod.
IX.
_Exploring.--A wild Walk.--On the Lookout for Prey.--What is it?--Is
it a wild Goose?--Tremendous Sensation, the Explorers being as much
astounded as Robinson Crusoe was when he discovered the human Footprints
in the Sand._
ON the following morning, all were up by daybreak, and Bruce could
think of nothing but gulls’ eggs. In the desperate extremity of hunger
to which they were reduced through their dislike to lobsters, they
determined to make a search along the cliffs for nests. They walked
along, and at length came to a place where some nests had been built.
They found a large number of eggs here, and appropriated them all. On
cooking them, they found them of a peculiar flavor, yet eatable, and
they congratulated themselves on their good luck.
They now determined to put into execution their cherished plan of
exploring the island. One was to stay behind to attend to the signal,
and lots were drawn to see who it would be. It fell on Phil, who at once
accepted his task with great cheerfulness, and informed them that he
would make an omelet on a hot stone. In this pleasing occupation they
left him, and went into the woods.
They found the woods here precisely like those of the other island. Fir,
and spruce, and maple grew densely together, and beneath all there was
a thick underbrush, with fallen trees, and ferns, and moss. Progress,
under such circumstances, was exceedingly difficult; but they knew that
the island was quite small, and so they kept on their way. The grounds
continually ascended for a long distance, and this, of course, added
somewhat to the difficulty of the journey; but at last the ascent
ceased, and they knew that they were on the summit of the island.
Nothing could be seen, however. So thick was the forest, that it shut
out all the view; nor was it of any use to climb a tree, ‘for all were
of nearly equal size, and if they were to climb up as far as they could,
they would only find the view obstructed by the tops of trees growing
around. So they kept on their way, and found the ground descending
continuously in an easy slope. The wood was as dense as ever, and no
living thing appeared. They had started with vague ideas of meeting with
hares or wild fowl, but thus far nothing had been visible except the
gulls overhead. They began to think that there was nothing but gulls
on the island. Bart, however, assured them that they could not judge as
yet, and expressed his unshaken confidence that he would start a rabbit
before the day was done. He had his pistol in his belt, and he was
determined to use it before going home, even if he had to shoot a gull.
So they kept on down the descent, expecting every moment to come in
sight of the bay.
At last the woods grew thinner, and before them they saw the sky through
the trees. Moving farther forward, the trees grew more scattered, and
in a short time they found themselves at the top of a long, open ground,
which sloped to the bay, and was overgrown with moss and low brushwood.
At the farther end of the open, a small eminence arose, with some bushes
on the summit. Before them the waters of the bay spread out, with the
distant horizon skirted by a range of hills.
“Here’s the place for rabbits,” said Bart, “if there are any.”
“If there are any! Of course,” said Bruce; “that’s the point.”
They walked on through the brush-wood, and at length, reaching a mossy
knoll, they sat down to rest. After a time, Bart started off alone to
pursue his investigations. He had not gone far before he stopped, and
shrunk back. Then he looked around with a triumphant expression. Then he
moved forward in a stealthy manner.
“I wonder what’s up now,” said Bruce.
“Bart’s found something at last,” said Arthur.
“A hare, perhaps,” said Tom.
The three boys started after Bart. Scarcely had they moved a half dozen
paces, when Bart took aim and fired. A loud cry was heard, a large white
bird was seen jumping in the air, and falling to the ground, and then
Bart ran forward and secured his prize.
The other boys hurried up to him. As they came, he turned to meet them,
with a face flushed with triumph, and holding the large white bird by
the legs.
“What is it?” they cried.
“A wild goose,” said Bart.
“A wild goose!” cried Bruce, who had reached him by that time. “A tame
one you mean.”
“No it isn’t, either. How can it be a tame one? It’s a wild one.”
“No, Bart,” said Arthur, “it’s a tame goose--as tame as I am.”
“You’re a tame goose yourself,” said Bart. “Do you call that a tame
goose? Why, it’s a wild one, of course. Look at its wings.”
“What about its wings? They’re tame enough. No, Bart, it’s the real
original domestic goose of the civilized farm-yard.”
“Nonsense! as though I don’t know a tame goose when I see one.”
“Well, you see one now.”
“No, I don’t.”
“This is one.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“It is.”
“Pooh!”
“Bart,” said Bruce, “did you ever see a live wild goose?”
“No, I never did.”
“Aha! How do you know anything about them, then?”
“Why, I’ve seen pictures,--lots of thorn,--and they look just like
this.”
“But I’ve seen wild geese living and flying,--and dead, too, lots
of times,--and this isn’t one.”
“O, this is a kind that you are not acquainted with. Why, there are ever
so many kinds of wild geese.”
But at this moment the boys were rudely interrupted.
“Aha! ye thafes of the wurruld, ye!” cried a loud voice close
beside them. “Ye villains, ye. What are ye doin’,--a murdherin’ and
slaughterin’ a poor man’s property. Ye blackgyards, ye! What d’ye mane
by comin’ here and shootin’ my geese?”
Thunderstruck at this unexpected interruption, the boys turned, and
found themselves face to face with an old, grizzled, red-faced little
Irishman, whose furious gestures and angry eyes were directed menacingly
toward them.
“Which af ye’s shot my goose?” he roared.
“1 did,” said Bart, quietly.
“Ye young villain! I’ll make ye pay for it,--and dear, too,--as sure as
me name’s Denny O’Rafferty. What’r ye’s doin’ here, any how? What d’ye
mane by shootin’ my goose? D’ye think I’m goin’ to be robbed be a gang
of black-gyards? Be the powers! if ye think that same, ye’ll find ye’re
mistaken, bad scran till ye!”
“Mr. O’Rafferty,” said Bart, “you’re quite mistaken. We’re honest boys,
and came here by accident.”
“What did ye shoot the goose for, then, ye imp of mischief?”
“It was a mistake,” said Bart, coolly. “Of course I didn’t know it was
yours,--in fact, I wasn’t aware that anybody was living here. I will
be happy to pay you whatever you think it’s worth,-and am sorry for the
mistake.”