SHOTS FROM THE BEACH
It was Jim, as usual, who first caught sight of it, and Dave looked at
it for a long time through the binoculars, full of wonder and hope.
Either they were doomed to disappointment or this was the mysterious
place that they had struggled so persistently to reach.
“I’d give something to know just what happened to the _Firefly_ in that
gale,” he said, turning to Tempest.
“So would I,” was the reply. “They had their full share of it, you may
be certain, but, as we weathered it, it’s most likely that they did the
same unless an unlucky wave flopped on board and foundered them.”
“If that is Lost Island, I suppose we shall soon have a fair idea what
happened to Joe Flagg,” said Dave.
“You can wager your last cent on that. If they haven’t got ashore there
by now they never will step ashore anywhere on this earth. It’ll be
a comical situation, anyway, to meet them. I can almost hear Flagg
already saying ‘Dear me, what a surprise! Now, when I was in Dogtooth
City――’”
Another hour brought the _Nautilus_ so close that it was possible to
get a fair notion of the island’s appearance through the glasses.
Both Dave and Tempest were filled with suppressed excitement. There
certainly was a prominent hill there, which might have been cast up
by volcanic action, but from where they lay it bore no resemblance to
either a camel or any other animal.
Dave spoke of that fact in disappointed tones.
“Shucks! What of it?” said Tempest encouragingly. “You don’t know where
the lagoon is yet, if there is one there. Probably you can’t see the
resemblance except from that side. Patience, sonny. It is early yet to
give up hope. Wait till we get closer in and then we will make a little
trip right round the place on the look-out for zoological specimens
like camels.”
There were many dangerous rocks, some of them only half submerged, when
they got within a mile of the coast, making navigation a hazardous
business. Tempest placed Jim in the bow on the look-out for snags, and
decided to beat his way round the northern point of the island. More
than once a warning shout from the Kanaka only just saved them from
tearing out the bottom of the _Nautilus_ on a jagged peak; and it was a
relief when they got round to the western side to find the water there
clear of such death-traps.
All the time Dave’s eyes were glued on the crag-strewn hill, on which
he sought feverishly to distinguish something remotely resembling a
camel.
“Gee,” exclaimed Tempest at last, “if there isn’t a lagoon down there
I’ll eat my hat! We shall be able to make sure on that point soon,
anyway.”
“The camel, Tempest! The camel!” Dave shouted a few minutes later as
they got farther to the south. “Don’t you see it?”
“It’s a funny sort of camel,” the other commented with a dry smile.
“Wait till we get a bit down the coast. It may show up a little clearer
then.”
“It _is_ the camel, Tempest. Look! Look!” Dave cried as the formation
of the hill gradually resolved itself into the shape he was looking
for. The resemblance was by no means perfect. Its most noticeable
feature was the lump in the middle. Further behind there was a rising
sweep which might roughly be spoken of as the hind quarters of the
animal. The shoulders were fairly distinct, and also the rise of the
neck, but there was no head.
“Great guns and little fishes, Dave, but you’re right! We’re there at
last. Now, where the dickens is the entrance to this lagoon? We don’t
want a smash up now after all our trouble. Jim, you tinted heathen, how
do you reckon we can get in?”
[Illustration: LOST ISLAND]
The Kanaka stood up and surveyed the reef of rocks which formed the
lagoon.
“Maybe p’raps over there,” he said, pointing. “Go easy.”
The islander’s instinct proved right. He directed Tempest to the only
channel leading into the calm water beyond the reef.
“You’ve never seen this place before, I suppose, have you, Jim?”
Tempest asked.
The Kanaka nodded.
“Never been on him though. He called Tai-o-Vai. Used to sail past
sometimes long time ago.”
“Tai-o-Vai, eh?” said Dave. “Why didn’t you tell us so before?”
“You didn’t ask him, idiot,” laughed Tempest. “Probably he’s never seen
a camel in his life, so it’s no use pulling off that stunt. Jiminy! but
isn’t this one pretty lagoon?”
Dave did not answer. They were just rounding a bend and the boy put one
hand on Tempest’s shoulder, pointing with the other.
“As I live,” Tempest exclaimed, “it’s the remains of the old _Hatteras_
after all!”
The wreck lay embedded in the sand, just as the ancient mariner had
described it in Brooklyn so long ago. She was not in an excellent state
of preservation, but the mere sight of her gladdened the hearts of the
adventurers.
Tempest pulled the tiller over and turned the nose of the _Nautilus_
straight towards the remains of the old barque. They were within about
four hundred yards of her when the sharp crack of a rifle echoed over
the water, and a bullet skimmed the surface uncomfortably near.
“Somebody is at home!” said Tempest with a puzzled expression. “I
suppose that is just to show us how pleased they are to see us.”
He jibed the boat, which then lay with her sails flapping.
“It’s Flagg,” Dave suggested.
“Dear old Joe Flagg, late of Dogtooth City,” Tempest muttered. “And he
sent that bullet as a present. The old villain wasn’t drowned in that
gale, Dave.”
“What are you going to do now?” the boy asked. “We’re not going to turn
tail at this stage.”
“If Mr. Flagg imagines that one shot from a pop-gun is going to keep us
off he never made a bigger mistake in his life,” Tempest said. “But
as it is a question of life and death, when people are throwing lead
around, we’d better come to an understanding. I know you’re no coward,
Dave, but I don’t want to take chances without you agreeing. What do
you say?”
“I’m game for anything,” said the boy. “Perhaps he only intended to
frighten us off. He would hardly be likely to shoot us in cold blood
when we got near, would he?”
“Jim, your skin is as precious to you as ours is to us,” Tempest said.
“Are you agreeable to running the risk of looking like a sieve?”
“Sieve?” the Kanaka repeated without understanding.
“There’s a kindly disposed gentleman over there who wants to make
little holes in us with a gun, and he may do so if we go much nearer.
But we particularly do want to go nearer. Do you mind?”
Jim shrugged his shoulders.
“Good enough,” said Tempest. “Now, Joe Flagg, we’ll just see a little
further into this matter. I’ll have a word with you if it kills me.”
He brought the boat round and she moved once more towards the wreck.
There was no sign of any human being ashore. The _Nautilus_ ran another
hundred yards without interruption before the crack of another shot
rang out, and there was a splash sixty feet ahead of them.
“Keep your heads ducked well down, boys,” said Tempest. “He couldn’t
shoot a haystack in a passage. If only we can get ashore we may be all
right.”
They were twenty yards from the beach when a bullet crashed through the
side of the _Nautilus_ just above her water line, and grazed Jim’s leg.
At the same moment the form of Joe Flagg emerged from the trees.
Holding his rifle up menacingly he advanced to meet the incoming boat.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Flagg,” greeted Tempest. “You’re looking very
well. Pretty scenery about here, isn’t it.”
“If you come any nearer I’ll shoot the lot of you,” snarled the fat
man. There was nothing urbane about his manner. The mask was off now.
“You’re not feeling very well, Mr. Flagg,” said Tempest. “Perhaps you
had a bad night’s rest. I’m afraid you’ve had a long journey and you
must be tired.”
“This island is private property,” snapped Flagg. “It’s mine, see?
And I don’t allow any trespassing. Keep off, or there’ll be a quick
funeral.”
“You’ve bought it in a mighty hurry,” replied Tempest. “You don’t
happen to have the title-deeds about you, do you? Now, don’t try to
be funny,” he added sharply. “We’re a long way from civilization, but
even in the middle of the Pacific you can’t kill people with impunity.
There’s a law against it, you know, Mr. Flagg.”
“Dead men don’t tell tales,” Flagg snapped, “and I warn you you’ll be
as dead as mutton if you land here. It’s my island, and I won’t have
any one on it.”
“I hate to argue with you under the circumstances,” said Tempest, “but
I’m afraid I don’t believe that yarn. Now, listen, I’ll make you a
little business proposition.”
“What is it?” asked Flagg.
“We will assume that we are all here for the same purpose.”
“I’m not here for my health,” said Flagg ungraciously.
“Precisely. You came after our treasure.”
“That’s my business.”
“And it is mine too, Mr. Flagg,” said Tempest. “If I had a gun I
shouldn’t feel inclined to be so amiable about it, either. However,
I’ll make you a sporting offer, to save further unpleasantness. You’ve
been very good to us at your home, even if you did finish up with a
sneaking trick by trying to steal a march on us. Look here, I’ll agree
to give you a third of anything we may find.”
“Nothing doing,” replied Flagg without a moment’s hesitation. He was
perfectly aware that he held the trump card in his hand, and moreover
he was not in the mood to accept anything less than the lot.
“Now be reasonable,” Tempest urged. “We may have an awful lot of
trouble before we get it, anyway, even if we ever do get it, and so we
might just as well be friends instead of enemies. Because you don’t
think we’re going to slip away quietly and leave you in possession of
the field, do you?”
“I neither know nor care. Clear out.”
“But I told you we were not going to clear out.”
“That’s up to you,” said Flagg in level tones. “I’m tired of this. If
you like getting shot that’s your own affair.”
Without further warning he pulled the trigger again, and a splinter
jumped into the air from the gunwale of the _Nautilus_.
“You murderous old crook,” shouted Dave.
“That’s nothing. I’m only finding the range,” Flagg said with a
mirthless laugh, as the rifle spoke once more.
“It’s no use committing suicide,” muttered Tempest, swinging the boat
round. “Good afternoon, Mr. Flagg. I hope you will take great care of
your health until I see you again. I’m afraid you’re not exactly in
training, so I shall anticipate the pleasure of giving you the biggest
walloping you ever had when I wade into you.”
Flagg’s reply, as the _Nautilus_ began to gather speed, was another
shot which ricochetted past.
“All right,” Tempest shouted back over his shoulder. “You’re only
storing up trouble for yourself.”
“Isn’t he a nice, kind-hearted gentleman?” commented Dave. “Let’s try
to land somewhere on the other side of the island.”
“We can try,” said Tempest, “but to tell you the truth I don’t think
we shall stand a dog’s chance. That brute doesn’t mean to stop at
anything. I believe he would polish the lot of us off without the
slightest scruple. There was nothing playful about the way he handled
that gun of his, you must remember. And I do hate being shot on a
Tuesday. This is Tuesday, isn’t it? The blooming island is so small
that he can dodge round as fast as we can. However, we’ll fool him if
we can. Here goes.”
Tempest ran the boat straight out to sea until the sun dipped under the
horizon. It was far from dark, for the stars were aggravatingly bright,
and a full moon was soon due to appear on the scene.
“It’s a chance,” Tempest said, as he headed once more for Tai-o-Vai,
“but an extremely rotten chance. We’ll see what we can do at the back
of the island now. I doubt whether we could land there anyhow because
of the surf.”
A slight haze partly obscured the moon when it rose, but there was
far too much light to please Dave and Tempest, who would have liked a
coal-black night for such work as they had on hand. Trusting to memory
to avoid the dangerous patch of rocks through which they had threaded
their way earlier in the day, they made a wide detour, and then headed
straight for the surf. The thunderous roar of it reached them when they
were still a quarter of a mile off.
“That sounds lively, doesn’t it!” Dave commented. “There’s no earthly
hope of making the beach in that without smashing the _Nautilus_ up and
probably ourselves too.”
“Jim,” said Tempest, “you can see like a cat in the dark. Can you tell
us how we’re going to get ashore?”
The Kanaka shook his head. That was a problem beyond him.
“Maybe p’raps there’s a li’le cove somewhere along here,” he suggested.
“Try bit furth’r down.”
“All right,” said Tempest. “It’s rocky along here, and we can’t see
where we are going, so don’t be surprised if we have to swim for it all
of a sudden.”
More by good fortune than by good management they escaped piling the
boat up, and, sure enough, Jim piloted them to a sheltered cove.
“’Pon my word, I believe we’ve caught him napping, Dave,” Tempest said
as they approached the beach.
“There’s no sign of anybody,” agreed the boy, eagerly scanning the
shore.
They were within fifty yards――forty――thirty.
Crack!
A little spurt of light flashed out and a bullet sang its way over
their heads.
Tempest ground his teeth. Had he been alone he would have made a dash
for it. Reluctantly he put the helm over and swung the boat away again.
“That is one extra thump in the ribs he will get from me when we do
meet,” he said bitterly. “Hang me if I know what we are going to do
now! We can’t mess about like this indefinitely.”
“He certainly has got us in a corner,” said the boy.
“It is a corner we have got to wriggle out of, somehow,” observed
Tempest. “I think I’ve got a scheme that will work, though. It seems to
me the only way. Desperate situations demand desperate measures. Dave,
I want you to stop in the _Nautilus_ whatever happens until I tell you
to come ashore. I’m going to swim to the beach.”
“And what then?”
“I’ll deal with Flagg once I get on dry land with him. We’ll go round
to the lagoon, where the wreck is. That is the best place.”
“But he’ll shoot you the moment he sets eyes on you.”
“He’ll probably try to, but I’m going to take the risk. I may be able
to take him off his guard.”
“Um rain pretty soon, pretty hard,” said the Kanaka, sniffing the air
as they ran round to the lagoon. Clouds were already gathering.
“Tempest, let’s wait a while and see exactly what is going to happen.
I’ve got an idea that we might be able to land after all, without your
running an almost certain chance of getting hit with a bullet.”
A few heavy drops were beginning to fall, and the light was failing.
“If a regular tropical shower does come down, that will work the
trick,” Tempest said.
Almost as he spoke the patter of the rain drops increased. They got
through the channel into the lagoon just in time before the shower
became a drenching storm, blotting everything out of sight.
“Now for it!” said Tempest. “Not a sound, boys!”