A SERIOUS MISHAP
"The boat gone!" exclaimed Grant in amazement. "What do you mean?"
"What Ah say is dat de boat am gone, dat's all," said Sam.
"How could it get away though?" demanded John excitedly. "Who is there
to take it?"
"Ah don't know, sah," said Sam. "It sho' is gone though."
"There must be some one on the island then," exclaimed John. "I don't
see how it could disappear any other way."
"Maybe," admitted Grant. "It certainly is queer."
The four boys stood amazed, too surprised by this sudden catastrophe at
first to do anything. It seemed almost impossible to think that such a
thing could be.
"Are you sure you went to the right place, Sam?" demanded Fred.
"Sho' Ah is," said Sam. "Dey is no doubt ob it."
"Let's all go and have a look," George suggested.
"The first sensible idea yet, Pop," exclaimed Grant. "Come on,
everybody."
Helter skelter and making as fast time as they could, the little party
set out to retrace their steps to their landing place. Fear filled their
hearts, not only on account of the disappearance of their boat, but also
because there was the chance that some one else was on the island who
might have stolen it. Not that the boys would not have been glad to see
other people, but because they feared that the strangers might turn out
to be enemies. Certainly, if they were friends, it seemed queer they
should steal the boat.
It was not long before they came to the little harbor. Grant was the
first to reach the water's edge and he looked about him eagerly, for
traces of the missing boat.
"Here's where it was," exclaimed Fred.
"There isn't even a mark on the beach where it was pulled up," said
John. "That's a queer thing it seems to me."
"You're sure this is the spot?" said Grant.
"I know it is," said George, confidently. "There is no doubt of it."
"See any footprints around?" asked Fred.
"None at all," replied John. "What do you think of it all?"
"What do you think, Grant?" inquired George. Grant was always the one to
whom the other boys turned when there was any question to be settled.
Grant stood on the beach and gazed fixedly out to sea.
"What are you looking at?" demanded John.
"I'm looking at our boat," replied Grant quietly.
"What!" exclaimed Fred. "Where is it?"
"Right out there," said Grant, pointing to a white speck that could be
faintly seen far out on the water.
"But how did it get there?" insisted Fred.
"It floated," said Grant quietly, "and I'll tell you how. You know we
pulled it up on the shore, but I'm afraid we didn't pull it far enough.
While we were away, the tide must have come in and floated it off. There
it goes, and here we stay, I guess."
"Don't be so sure of that," exclaimed George, and he began to divest
himself of his few remaining clothes as rapidly as possible.
"What do you think you're going to do, Pop?" demanded Grant.
"I'm going after that boat."
"By swimming?"
"Of course. How else could I reach it?" and by this time George was
almost stripped to his skin.
"Don't be silly, Pop," exclaimed Fred. "That boat is at least a
half-mile from shore and you couldn't possibly catch it. It's getting
farther away all the time."
"It's worth a try, isn't it?" demanded George. "You don't want to stay
here the rest of your life, do you?" He was a splendid swimmer and had
won many prizes in this line of sport. At the same time what he proposed
to attempt now was most ambitious.
"You're crazy, Pop," said Grant earnestly. "You can't possibly make it."
"I'll tell you that later," said George doggedly, and he made as if to
start down the beach. John, however, seized him and held him firmly.
"Please don't try it," he begged. "You'll only drown."
"Let me go," exclaimed George.
"Think ob dem sha'ks," said Sam. "Dey's millions ob dem out dar."
"That's right, Pop," cried Grant. "Think of those sharks. Even if you
could swim that far the sharks would get you."
"Put your clothes on again," said Fred. "We need you worse than we do
the boat."
The argument about the sharks had more influence on George than anything
else. He did not mind the ocean, but the thought of its hungry
inhabitants was too much for him. He yielded to the pleas of his
comrades and slowly began to put on his clothes.
"What'll we do?" he said dazedly. "It looks as if we were stranded."
"I guess we are," agreed Grant grimly. "We'll have to sit here and wait
until some steamer happens by and picks us up."
"But how will any one know we're here?" said George.
"We'll hoist a flag."
"That's all right, but where are we going to get a flag?"
"I'll show you," exclaimed Grant, and he made his way to the spot where
their stores and provisions were piled. A moment later he returned with
the canvas tarpaulin that had been used as a cover. "Here's our flag,"
he said, waving the heavy piece of canvas around his head.
"It's too heavy," objected John. "It would take a gale to make that
stand out."
"It is heavy," admitted Grant. "I don't know of anything else we can use
though."
"Except my shirt," said George quickly. "That'll make a real flag."
"But what will you wear?" said John.
"Nothing maybe," replied George, cheerfully. "In this climate I don't
believe any one would suffer much from lack of clothes."
"Probably not," Grant agreed. "Why use your shirt in preference to any
one else's though."
"Because I offer it first."
"All right," laughed Grant. "Pass it over."
George handed his shirt to Grant and soon the seams were ripped so that
it covered the largest amount of possible space. "Now for a flag-pole,"
exclaimed Grant.
"I'll attend to that," exclaimed Fred and he straightway fell upon a
nearby tree with his jackknife. He cut off one of the longest and
straightest branches after considerable trouble, and presented it for
his companions' approval. "How's that?" he demanded proudly. "It's about
thirty feet long and stuck up on top of that hill, it could be seen for
a long, long distance."
"We'll now go up and raise the flag," cried Grant, and leading the way
he set out for the top of the hill.
"Look at the brook," exclaimed John suddenly, after they had covered
about half the distance to their destination.
"It's not a very big one," remarked George as he stepped across the tiny
stream. "I wonder where it comes from."
"We can follow it and see," said Grant. "If the water is good to drink,
we are in luck, for we may need it desperately before long."
"It looks clear enough," said Fred. "I'll taste of it."
"Wait till we find the source," advised Grant. "We can tell better then
whether it is good or not."
They soon discovered the origin of the little stream. Set in among a
grove of scrub palmetto trees was a spring. The water bubbled merrily
out into a little pool, the bottom of which was covered with shining
white pebbles.
"That looks all right to me," exclaimed Fred eagerly and a moment later
he was flat on his stomach, taking long draughts of the clear water.
"Whew, that's fine," he said enthusiastically, as he rose to his feet
once more and sighed with satisfaction.
"Is it cool?" asked John.
"It's almost cold," said Fred. "Why don't you try it?"
John did try it and so did every one else. All pronounced it to be just
as Fred had described it. "We can live for a long while on that water
and the fruit that's here," remarked Fred. "We won't have to worry about
starving anyway."
"Just the same we want to get our flag up," exclaimed Grant. "Let's do
it now and get it over with."
Without further delay they proceeded to the top of the hill. There were
no trees on the summit and for a space of two or three hundred yards,
the ground was bare and unobstructed. The very highest point on the
island was selected and there a hole was dug. Sticks and knives and
fingers and anything that could be found was used in the task, for no
tools had been put in the life-boat.
"If we only had the oars," said George, "we could have tied them all
together and made a real flag pole."
"What's the matter with this?" demanded Fred. "It may not be very
beautiful, but it'll do the work all right. It's limber too, so that if
a high wind comes up it will bend and not break."
"All right," exclaimed George, "put the flag on and we'll set it up."
The sleeves were torn from George's sacrificed shirt. The sleeves in
turn were torn into strips and with these the rest of the shirt, or
rather the flag, was tied securely to the pole.
"Hoist it up," cried George. "I must say I never expected to have my
shirt used for a flag on some deserted island though."
"It makes a good one all right," said Grant. "That ought to be visible
for a good long distance."
"Do you suppose any one would take the trouble to investigate if he did
see it?" inquired John skeptically.
"Any one would certainly investigate a flag like that," laughed George.
"They'd think it was a Chinese laundry or something."
"Maybe they'll take it for a pirate flag," suggested Fred.
"This island looks like a good place for pirates all right," remarked
John.