Repairs and Renewals
At sunrise on the following morning Peter scaled the highest point of
the island, hoping that in the clear air his range of vision would be
increased sufficiently to make out land.
He was disappointed. Nothing of the nature of land was in view. The
horizon, clear and well defined, surrounded him in an unbroken circle.
He was considerably troubled in his mind over the situation. Desert
islands were all very well in their way, provided there was a chance of
getting away from them. Evidently this island was well out of the
regular steamer track, while sailing vessels, running between The Cape
and India and the Federated Malay States, would pass well to the
eastward in order to take full advantage of the monsoons.
The boat was practically useless as a means of leaving the island. Had
there been a supply of nails in the locker, Peter would not have
hesitated to fasten a sheet of painted canvas over the holes in the
garboards, and then risked a dash for Madagascar. But without suitable
material that was out of the question.
Naturally of an inventive turn of mind, Peter thought out half a dozen
plans to make the boat seaworthy; but, as fast as he worked out a
solution of the difficulty, objections apparently insurmountable caused
him to reject the scheme and start afresh on another tack.
His previous error in navigation rather damped his enthusiasm, but with
Preston on the road to recovery he was no longer dependent on himself.
The Acting Chief had had years of experience of the Indian Ocean, and,
knowing the set of the chief currents and the direction of the
prevailing winds, would be of material assistance in navigating the
boat--provided she could be made seaworthy.
Still pondering, Mostyn descended from the bluff and walked towards the
camp. A more urgent problem demanded his attention: that of catering
for the needs of his companions and himself.
The biscuits would not last out much longer, coconuts were unsatisfying
fare, and apt to have injurious effect if used as a staple form of
food. Whether the island possessed other resources, either animal or
vegetable, had yet to be seen. Preliminary investigations had drawn
blank in that direction.
Returning to camp, Mostyn found the others busily engaged in getting
breakfast. Mahmed had found some oysters, many of them a foot in
diameter, while the lascars had surprised and killed a small turtle.
It was rather a curious fact that Mrs. Shallop, childishly ignorant on
most matters, was an authority on cooking. She just "took on" the
turtle as a matter of course, and by the time Peter returned the
choicest parts of the animal were stewing over a wood fire. In the
absence of a suitable pot, for the baler was far too small, the
self-constituted cook had employed the shell of the turtle as a
receptacle for the stew. The oysters were eaten raw, flavoured with
the vinegary milk of a young coco-nut.
But the success of the meal was the result of Mahmed's investigations.
He had wandered towards the main coco-nut grove on the southern point
of the island and had discovered a number of "jack-fruits", a species
of bread-fruit. These had been sliced and roasted, forming a good
substitute for bread. The lascars, however, disdained the fruit, and
were content with the seeds, which they bruised and cooked in coconut
shells.
For the moment the grim spectre of starvation had been driven away.
"I've been thinking, Peter," remarked Olive during the rest-interval.
"Couldn't we make a canvas boat? We have plenty of sail-cloth, and we
could use timbers and planking out of the damaged boat."
"Might," admitted Mostyn. "It would take some doing, and after all it
would be a frail craft to carry seven people. We might try it."
He thought over the matter, and the more he did so the greater became
the difficulties. Even in calm water a canvas boat, unless properly
constructed of suitable materials, is a sorry craft. In the
high-crested waves of the Indian Ocean she would not stand a dog's
chance.
Yet Olive's suggestion was not without good result. Based upon the
idea, Peter's thoughts returned to the damaged boat. Could that not be
patched with canvas and strengthened by woodwork so that it would be
once more seaworthy?
"By Jove, Olive!" he exclaimed. "I believe you've put me on the right
tack. Come on down to the boat. We'll take the lascars with us and
see what's to be done. The sooner we get away from this place the
better."
Olive did not agree with the latter remark, although she made no
audible comment. She was rather enjoying the novelty of the situation.
Peter, on the other hand, had got over the glamour of desert islands.
An exciting time upon a coral island in the North Pacific had cured him
of that. It wasn't to be regretted from a retrospective point of view,
but he did not hanker after a repetition.
By the aid of a tackle composed of the halliards and main-sheet blocks
the boat was canted over and finally lowered keel uppermost. The full
extent of the damage was then apparent. There was a jagged hole about
nine inches in diameter through the garboard strake and the strake next
to it on the port side about five feet from the stem. On the starboard
hand was a smaller hole close to the bilge keel, while there was a
slight fracture on the same side eighteen inches from the stern-post.
"Rather a lash-up, what?" exclaimed Peter, as he noted the damage.
"Guess we'll be able to tackle that."
He first directed one of the lascars to trim the jagged holes with the
axe. The next step was to smooth down the planking adjacent to the
gaps by means of canvas and wet sand. This done, the boat was lifted
on to her side and the bottom boards removed. A corner of the axe was
then employed to remove the brass screws from the stern-sheet benches,
while the gratings were sacrificed for the sake of the brass brads that
secured them.
This task occupied the whole morning.
After lunch, work was resumed. Strips of painted canvas, smeared with
a sticky substance smelling of turpentine, were laid over the holes and
tacked down with the brads. Over this canvas the dismembered
bottom-boards were firmly screwed. In less than an hour and a half
this part of the work was completed.
The boat was then turned over on her keel, and the holes levelled flush
with the inside planking by means of clay found in the bed of the
little stream. Over this additional canvas was tacked and pressed into
position by strips of wood from the bottom boards, struts being fixed
between them and the under side of the thwarts to counteract the
pressure of the water.
Well before sunset the task of making the boat water-tight was
completed, and Peter surveyed the result with intense satisfaction.
"To-morrow," he declared to Olive, who had been working as steadily as
anyone, "to-morrow we'll test her. I don't think she ought to leak
very much."
"Aren't we going to explore the island, Peter?" asked the girl
wistfully.
Mostyn capitulated.
"Yes, certainly, if you wish," he replied. "We can do that easily in a
few hours. I don't suppose you'll find it particularly interesting.
You see, the weather looks as if it will be fine for some days, and I
naturally want to take advantage of it. What do you say to a jaunt
before breakfast? We could take something to eat with us, of course.
That will leave the forenoon clear for testing the boat."
This suggestion was acted upon, and soon after dawn on the following
day Peter and Olive set out on their tour of exploration.
It was a very enjoyable walk for both: to Mostyn because of the
companionship of a jolly, unaffected girl; to Olive, because of the
novelty of it all. But there was nothing of an adventure about it.
The island was devoid of anything of a romantic nature. There were no
caves, no traces of former inhabitants. It would have taken a
high-flown imagination to weave a thrilling story round that isolated
chunk of earth rising out of the Indian Ocean.
They saw no signs of animal life, beyond a few turtles basking on the
coral sands, and an occasional lizard scooting for shelter under the
trees. There was not a bird to be seen or heard.
Nor did the vegetation give much variety, although Olive discovered a
grove of orange trees on the northern extremity of the island. To her
disappointment the fruit was intensely bitter and quite unfit to eat.
They returned in time for breakfast, and were greeted warmly by
Preston. Mrs. Shallop eyed them with marked disapproval. Although she
refrained from making any remark, there was a specially sour look upon
her face. Perhaps she regretted having given her companion her
dismissal, since by so doing she no longer had control over the girl's
freedom.
Directly the meal was over, Peter took one of the lascars down to the
beach. It was a perfect day for testing the boat, as the water was as
smooth as a millpond, and the tide being full there was little
difficulty in launching the repaired craft.
To Mostyn's delight and satisfaction the boat answered admirably. The
canvas stood well, and beyond a few drops of water leaking through the
seams owing to the action of the sun's rays, the boat was practically
watertight.
Quickly the good news was conveyed to the others at the camp, and
preparations were begun for the voyage.
Mrs. Shallop had baked quite a quantity of jack-fruit, and had prepared
about thirty pounds of turtle-flesh, treating it with brine in order to
preserve it for future use. The water-beaker was filled at the stream,
and additional water carried in the shells of fully-matured coco-nuts.
By two o'clock in the afternoon, just as the north-east breeze sprang
up, the camp was struck and the gear stowed away on board the boat.
"Now, old man," said Peter to the Acting Chief; "no mistake this time.
You set the course and I'll see that it's kept."
"Right-o!" agreed Preston.