EXPLORING A TROPICAL ISLAND
The night to follow was an anxious one for all on board the _Stormy
Petrel_. The sea was still too rough to think of venturing ashore, and
so it was impossible to learn to what harbor they had floated and what
was the prospect of continuing their voyage to Sobago Island.
"We must be at least two hundred miles out of our reckoning," said
Captain Marshall, in reply to a question from Phil. "This may be Tapley
Island, but I am not sure."
"Is Tapley Island inhabited?"
"I am not sure about that, either. There was once a colony there, but I
think it died out. The natives on the other islands around here are very
fierce."
"Then I hope we haven't landed on one of the other islands," remarked
Dave.
"If we came over a reef, how are we to get out of this harbor?"
questioned Roger.
"That remains to be learned, Roger," answered the master of the _Stormy
Petrel_, gravely.
During the night the sea went down a great deal, and in the morning the
harbor could be plainly distinguished. A boat was lowered, and Captain
Marshall went ashore, taking Dave and Phil with him.
It was an easy matter to beach the rowboat on the sands, and the boys
leaped ashore quickly and ran up to the nearest of the palm trees. A
look around showed all how the gigantic tidal wave had torn and twisted
everything growing near the water's edge. In some spots the sand lay a
foot thick on beds of grass and moss and small brushwood.
"We can be thankful that our ship was not cast up high and dry on the
shore," remarked Captain Marshall, as he gazed around. "That wave must
have done the shipping for hundreds of miles around great damage."
The party walked up and down the beach for almost a mile, but without
seeing the first sign of inhabitants of any sort. The shore was full of
dead fish and overturned turtles, and the sailors took some back to the
ship with them for eating purposes.
It was nearly midday when they returned to the ship, and the boys were
so hungry that a mess of fried fish was particularly appetizing to them.
At noon the captain made some observations and got out his charts, and
finally announced that they must be at a small island, one hundred and
sixty miles to the southward of Sobago.
"The island is not of great importance," said he. "It is shaped a good
deal like the letter B, and this harbor is formed by the double curve on
one side. The interior of each of the two portions is mostly marsh
land--a good place for tropical fevers. The reef outside of the harbor
is well defined on the chart, and extends in a semicircle for many
miles."
"Isn't there any opening at all?" queried Dave.
"For small vessels, yes."
"But not for a bark the size of ours?"
"That remains to be found out. I shall go this afternoon and make some
soundings."
"If there isn't any opening in the reef, what are we to do?" asked Phil,
blankly. "Why, the _Stormy Petrel_ will have to remain here forever!"
"Which puts me in mind of a story, as Shadow Hamilton would say," came
from Dave. "I once heard of a fellow who built a rowboat in the garret
of his house. After the boat was done, it was so large he couldn't get
it out of the door or window, and he had to take the boat apart again."
"If the boys at Oak Hall could see us now!" cried Roger. "But about our
ship. We didn't build it here--the tidal wave sent it in, over yonder
reef. Now the question arises, how are we to get over the reef again?"
"If there is no opening in the reef, maybe we can blow one out with
dynamite," suggested Phil.
After dinner Captain Marshall went out in the largest of the rowboats,
taking with him his pick of the sailors. They took a lead line along,
and remained away until dark, taking as many soundings as they possibly
could. It was dangerous work, and those on the bark were glad when the
rowboat returned.
"Well, did you find a channel?" asked the first mate.
"No," was the short answer. "There are several openings, but none, that
I discovered, wide enough for the _Stormy Petrel_."
"Of course, you didn't cover the whole reef?"
"By no means. I will go out again to-morrow--or you may do so."
The news the captain brought was very disheartening, and it was a gloomy
party that assembled in the cabin of the bark that evening.
"We shall be perfectly safe in this harbor, so long as the weather
remains fair," said Captain Marshall. "But a heavy blow might cause us
to drag our anchors and either run ashore or on the reef. We must get
away in the near future, if it can possibly be accomplished."
"You can't get away and to Sobago any too quick for me," replied Dave.
That evening Jasper Van Blott came out of hiding and attempted to take
his place at the cabin table. But Captain Marshall would have none of
this and sent the former supercargo forward, where the sailors made room
for him in the forecastle. This angered Van Blott intensely, and he
gritted his teeth with rage.
"Wait until I get the chance," he said to himself. "I'll get square for
this insult!"
"He can't run away for the present," the captain explained to the boys.
"When we get to a regular stopping place, I'll put him in irons."
On the following morning it was so fair all the boys begged to be
allowed to go ashore and do a little exploring. The captain was willing,
but told them to be careful. Billy Dill was to go with them, and they
took along a pistol, a shotgun, and some provisions.
"If you get into trouble, fire two shots in quick succession," said
Captain Marshall. "If I want you to return, I'll fire two shots."
The boys got into the boat, and Billy Dill took one pair of oars and
Dave the others. They were soon at the beach and landed in true nautical
style. Then the rowboat was drawn up out of the water and into the shade
of some palms, that the sun might not crack open the seams.
"We must be extremely careful," observed Phil. "Remember, we do not know
what is on this island."
"Sure, there might be lions," suggested Roger, with a wink and a glance
at Billy Dill.
"You boys know better nor thet," rejoined the old tar. "None o' these
South Sea islands have much in the way o' wild beasts. But you may
strike a big snake."
"Excuse me, but I don't want to be introduced to his snakeship," cried
the senator's son.
After a little look around, they determined to start up the shore, and
did so, with their provisions on their backs and Dave carrying the
shotgun and Phil the pistol. Roger and the old tar armed themselves with
big sticks.
A half-mile was covered, when they came to a hollow, in which were
basking a number of turtles, all of great size. Phil gave a shout, and
on the instant the turtles all headed for the ocean with clumsy, but
swift, strides. Billy Dill made after them and managed to catch the last
one and turn him over.
[Illustration: Billy Dill managed to catch the last one and turn him
over. _Page 233._]
"He will make fine turtle soup," said the tar.
"So he will!" cried Dave. "I suppose I might have shot at them."
"Not worth while, lad; one is enough."
They soon came to a portion of the shore where the undergrowth was
exceedingly close, and they had to journey a short distance inland. The
palms were thick, and they saw numerous cocoanuts and great varieties of
beautiful ferns and gigantic creeping vines. Billy Dill also pointed
out three varieties of bread-fruit trees.
"Well, a fellow wouldn't starve here, in spite of the scarcity of meat,"
observed Dave.
"And meat isn't especially good in hot weather," added Roger.
"Natives down here eat very little meat," said the old tar. "They use
lots of yams and such stuff, besides bananas and plantains. Everything
grows of itself, and they have a lazy man's life of it."
"Excepting when they fight each other," observed Phil.
An hour later they came out on the shore again. They were now away from
the harbor and could look straight out on the ocean.
"Look! look!" cried Roger, pointing seaward. "Am I mistaken, or do I see
a long canoe filled with men?"
"It certainly is a canoe," declared Dave, after a look.
"And it is filled with natives," added Phil. "What do you make of this?"
he added, turning to Billy Dill. "Are they coming here?"
"I don't think they are, Phil. They seem to be headed away from this
island."
The canoe was certainly a large one, and they counted at least twelve
natives at the paddles, or sweeps. Other natives were in the bow and
stern of the craft. In quarter of an hour the canoe was but a speck in
the distance, and then it was lost to sight altogether.
"We'll have to tell the captain about this," declared Dave. "If there
are natives around, he will want to know it."
"Perhaps they can tell us of a way out of the harbor," suggested Roger.
"Like as not, if there is a way out," spoke up Billy Dill. "They
generally know the coasts putty well--bein' out so much in their
canoes."
The little party continued on its exploring tour, but soon came to a
portion of the marsh land the captain had mentioned. Not wishing to get
stuck, they began to retrace their steps, until they were in the midst
of the thickets again. Then a strange rushing sound through the trees
broke upon their ears.
"Wait!" whispered Billy Dill, "I know what that is. Don't make any
noise."
"Is there any danger?" queried Roger.
The old tar shook his head. Then he pointed upward, and the boys saw a
large flock of beautiful tropical birds settling down on all sides of
them.
"What a sight!" murmured Dave. "How pretty they are!"
"They get birds for ladies' hats from places like this," whispered Billy
Dill.
"I know it. What a shame to shoot them down, too!"
"It is a shame, lad; and ladies ought to stop wearin' sech finery," said
the old tar, soberly.
They watched the beautiful birds for some time. Then the creatures
discovered the strangers, and off they went in a mad flight, and were
lost to sight.
An hour later found the party passing down the shore once more. Here
they walked on the sand until they came to something of a cove,
surrounded by stately palms.
"Might as well rest a bit----" began Roger, when Dave uttered a cry:
"See, the remains of a campfire!"
"Yes, and the remains of a feast, too!" added Phil. "Those natives must
have been here!"