A MAP AND A PLOT
The boys and Billy Dill viewed the surroundings with interest. Some
bones lay on the ground, and they kicked them over.
"These can't be human bones, can they?" whispered the senator's son to
Dave.
"No, Roger, they are nothing but the bones of some small animal."
"I was afraid the natives might be cannibals!"
To one side of the camp lay a fantastically carved stick, evidently cut
by somebody during his leisure. Dave picked this up and saw that it
contained a heart, an anchor, a cross, several links of a chain, and
some stars. At the big end of the stick was an American flag.
"Hello, look here!" exclaimed the country boy. "This is strange, to say
the least. I don't believe any native would cut a stick in this
fashion."
"Neither do I," declared Phil. "That must have been carved by an
American, and with his jack-knife. Perhaps some sailors were camping out
here."
"To me this campfire, or what's left o' it, looks to be about a week
old," said Billy Dill. "The question is, where did the crowd go to from
here?"
"Maybe there were some Americans with those natives in that canoe,"
suggested Roger.
"In that case, the natives must be friendly," returned Phil.
They walked around the locality and down the shore half a mile further,
but could find nothing more of interest. Then they sat down to enjoy the
lunch they had brought, washing the meal down at a spring, close by
where the campfire had been.
"It is wonderful that fresh water should be so close to the salt,"
observed the senator's son. "You'd think it would all get salt."
"Nature knew man wanted fresh water, and so it was placed there,"
replied Billy Dill. "Trust a kind Providence to take care on us every
time."
After the meal the party set off for the opposite shore of the island,
over a small hill which divided one end from the other. Here the jungle
was so thick they had to literally force their way through, and each of
the boys got his clothing torn more or less. Once the old tar became so
completely fastened that the lads had to go to his assistance and cut
him loose with their pocket-knives.
"I'm jest about anchored!" remarked Billy Dill. "This is worse nor the
Sargasso Sea, ain't it?"
By the middle of the afternoon they gained the opposite shore of the
island. Here the ground was very rough, but at one spot they found the
remains of a village--two houses of logs and half a dozen thatched huts.
The houses and huts were bare, and nothing of interest was to be found
around the remains of half a dozen campfires.
"This shows that somebody lived here once upon a time," observed Phil.
"But it couldn't have been much of a population."
"Can't tell as to thet," came from the old sailor. "These natives live
pretty thick sometimes, ten or a dozen in one hut--and a good many live
right out under the trees."
Dave and Roger had passed into one of the deserted log houses, and the
country youth struck a match, that they might see around a little
better. Somewhat to their astonishment, they saw pinned up on a wall a
sheet of water-stained brown wrapping paper, upon which was drawn
something of a map, with a heavy cross where two lines met.
"Here's a discovery!" cried Dave. "Wonder what this map was for?"
The others came in, and a minute later a torch was lit, and all examined
the map with care. Then Roger uttered a cry:
"Dave, look there!" and the senator's son pointed to one corner of the
map. In faint letters was the written name:
_Dunston A. Porter._
"The very man I am looking for!" ejaculated Dave, and his heart gave a
bound. "Oh, boys, what can it mean?"
"It means that Mr. Porter has been here," answered Roger.
"He must have been hunting for that treasure," said Phil. "This may be
one of his maps."
"That's a fact," said Billy Dill. "He was always drawing jest such
things when I was with him. He said he was bound to find that treasure
some day."
"This map looks to be quite old," went on Dave, in disappointed tones.
"I wish it was fresh and he was here."
"He must have come here after sailing to Sobago Island," said the
senator's son, "and that can't be so very long ago."
After that they made a closer hunt than before in and around the camp,
but found nothing, outside of two buttons, a bit of lead pencil, and the
broken handle of a spade.
"That spade proves there was some digging done," said Phil. "Undoubtedly
he came here looking for that treasure."
"Did you ever get any of the particulars of that treasure?" asked Dave,
of the old sailor.
"Not much, exceptin' that it was a treasure of pearls and precious
stones once hidden by some native king. Mr. Porter didn't want to tell
much about it, and I didn't feel as I had the right to ask him."
It was now growing late, and all felt that it was time to return to the
ship. Before leaving the hut, Dave pinned a slip of paper over the map,
writing upon it as follows:
"TO DUNSTON A. PORTER:
"I am very anxious to meet you. I am on board the bark _Stormy
Petrel_, in the harbor of this island, and bound for Sobago
Island. Please see me, by all means.
DAVID PORTER."
To this the youth added the date, and also his home address, in case he
should fail to meet Dunston Porter and the man should wish to write to
him.
"That certainly ought to interest him--especially if he is interested in
a lost boy," was Roger's comment.
Dave was in a sober mood when he returned to the ship and did not feel
much like talking. He allowed the others to relate the day's experience,
to which Captain Marshall listened closely.
"It is certainly a pity we didn't get a chance to talk to those
natives," said the master of the _Stormy Petrel_. "They might have shown
me some way out of this harbor."
"Then you haven't found any passage through the reef?"
"Not yet. The first mate was out with four of the crew, but they could
find nothing wide enough," answered Captain Marshall.
The master of the bark thought he spoke the truth, but he was mistaken.
Unknown to the captain, the first mate had found a passage, rather
twisting in shape, but perfectly safe. It was near the northern end of
the reef--a locality Captain Marshall had not visited. One of the
sailors who had been out with the mate also knew of the passage, but
Paul Shepley had pledged him to secrecy for the time being.
While the boys and Billy Dill were in the cabin of the _Stormy Petrel_
relating their experiences, an interesting conversation was going on in
another part of the ship, between the first mate and Jasper Van Blott.
"I have made an important discovery," said Shepley, in a low tone, so
that no others might hear. "I have found a safe passageway out of this
harbor."
"Did you tell the old man?" demanded the former supercargo, quickly.
"No; I told him that there wasn't any opening wide enough for the bark."
"Good! Now, if we can only arrange this other matter, Shepley, we'll
make a fine thing of this," went on Jasper Van Blott.
"I don't know about this other thing, as you call it," grumbled the
first mate. "I'll be running a tremendous risk."
"Oh, it will be perfectly safe."
"Don't you know that mutiny on the high seas is punishable by death?"
"I do--if you get caught. But you won't get caught. Besides that, please
to remember that I am not going to suffer for this cargo affair alone.
If I have to stand trial, you'll have to do the same."
"Then you really mean to drag me into it, eh?" said the first mate,
sourly.
"Unless you consent to my plan. Why, man, it's dead easy," continued the
former supercargo, earnestly. "I know that at least four of the sailors
will stand in with us from the start, and we can easily win over the
others by the promise of a big reward. All we have got to do is to get
Captain Marshall, Billy Dill, and those three boys ashore, and then sail
away for some distant port. On the way we can change the name of the
bark and I'll fix up the clearance papers, and there you are. You and I
can become equal owners, and we can go into the regular Australian-New
Zealand trade and make a barrel of money in a few years."
"But supposing some of the men raise a row?"
"We won't give them a chance, until we are out on the ocean. We can tell
them--after the captain's crowd is gone--that you have orders to try to
clear the reef. When we are on the ocean, I don't think it will be so
hard to manage things. We can arm ourselves and lock up all the other
weapons, and tell the men they shall have big money if they ask no
questions and stick to their duty," added Jasper Van Blott.
"Well, how do you propose to get that crowd ashore? They may not happen
to go of their own free will."
"I think I can manage that, sooner or later. The main thing is, we must
watch our chances and strike as soon as the right moment arrives. Now
then, what do you say, Shepley?"
The first mate hesitated, and an argument lasting a full hour ensued,
during which the former supercargo's plot was discussed from every
possible point of view. At last the first mate agreed to do as Jasper
Van Blott wanted, and then the two separated, to await the time for
making their first move.