ON A LONE SCOUT
The captain's oracular advice mystified the boys until, seated by
their evening camp fire of driftwood, he explained to them that the
mysterious box might be filled with articles such as Juan Bego and
his men were both hiding and collecting.
"I dunno as he's been as far up the coast as this," Vinton added,
"but 'twouldn't be hard for a sly old sea-dog like him to creep
along these keys at night time 'most any distance."
"Are we far from the Everglades?" asked Billy, cautiously stirring
the fire; for, in spite of the spring warmth, there was a decided
chill in the air so close to the ocean.
"Well, the 'Glades are a good stiff hike from here," replied the
captain. "Eh, Dave; how about it?"
The guide made no answer. Wearied with doing nothing all day, save
lying around on the deck of the _Arrow_ a prey to seasickness, he had
fallen asleep. Above the splash of the surf and the rustle of the
wind in the palmettos, his snores could be heard distinctly, making
night hideous. Alec was on the point of waking him with a nudge
in the ribs, when Hugh restrained him.
"Let him sleep, Alec," he whispered. "Poor old Injun, he's comfortable
at last!"
"So am I," added Chester, stretching himself out on the warm sand.
"This is better than those stuffy little bunks in the cabin, isn't it?"
The next minute he regretted those words, for Captain Vinton looked
at him with an aggrieved expression, as if peeved to hear any
disparagement of the _Arrow_. The good captain was inordinately
proud of his sloop, which he preferred to all other craft; indeed,
had he been offered the command of one of the gigantic Atlantic
liners, it is likely that he would have declined the honor.
Presently Vinton rose and, beginning to stroll up and down the beach,
looked all around him and up at the sky in the scrutinizing way which
seafaring men have when they retire for the night or turn out in the
morning, to ascertain what sort of weather they may expect.
Overhead, he saw large masses of clouds scudding across the starry
heavens, driven by the wind which bid fair to continue all night and
all the next day. Off on the lagoon loomed the dark hulk and slender
mast of the sloop, rising and falling on the choppy waves, her bow
light gleaming across the water like a watchful eye. At his feet
lay the dory, drawn up on the sand and moored by a line fastened
to a palmetto, well out of reach of the rising tide.
Behind him sparkled the ruddy camp fire with the recumbent figures
of the five scouts, Norton and the Indian grouped around it, and
nearby lay the neat little pile of provisions and utensils covered
with a tarpaulin. What matter if rain should chance to fall during
the night? They had brought light blankets and rubber ponchos from
the sloop, so they would be well protected.
Everything was safe and in order; he was satisfied and at peace with
all mankind,---even with the smugglers who had roused his righteous
wrath,---and his youthful companions were happy, enjoying the cruise
and their adventures.
So unpromising did the weather beyond the keys look, and so congenial
seemed the lagoon and this sheltered islet, the captain came to
the conclusion that it would not be amiss if they should linger there
a day or two longer than they had planned. After all, Alec's father
had set no time limit for the cruise and the boys were in no hurry to
return to Santario.
Thinking thus, he rejoined his crew around the fire and heard
them discussing a plan to take the dory and row out on the lagoon
in the morning, if it were not too rough, in the hope of catching
some fresh fish for breakfast. He assented to this plan, for
he himself intended to go aboard the _Arrow_ the first thing on
the morrow to look her over and see how she had weathered the
night. Wrapping himself in a blanket and bidding the boys follow
his example, he lay down beside the embers and was soon asleep.
Hugh and Billy, lovers of surf-bathing, would fain have taken a dip
into the breakers before going to sleep; but Alec sensibly counseled
them against this.
"Wait till daylight If you shed your clothes now and go in, the
mosquitoes will eat you alive before you're dry again," he warned
them. "Besides, it's dangerous to go in around these shores in
the darkness. You might stumble into a hole or a sea-puss and
be carried out to sea before you knew what had happened. And
Dave told me there are sharks that-----"
"Oh, forget it!" laughed Billy. "We have no intention of furnishing
supper to a shark. Anyway, real, live, man-eating sharks are as
scarce as hens' teeth---almost."
Nevertheless, being overruled by Hugh, who saw the wisdom of Alec's
advice, he promptly abandoned the desire for a plunge; and, as he
soon learned, they did well to seek the protection of their smoke
smudge, for the mosquitoes were truly formidable. Even under the
canopy of smoke, these noxious insects darted viciously to bite and
torment the campers. Time and time again, the boys were awakened
from sleep by the attacks of these buzzing pests; but at last they
grew more accustomed to such onslaughts, and pulling nets closely
around their limbs and faces, they sank into deeper slumber.
* * * * * *
"The evening red, the morning gray
Sets the traveler on his way.
The evening gray, the morning red
Brings showers down upon his head."
Hugh whispered these words softly to himself when he awoke in the
dim twilight hour just before dawn. It was still too dark for him
to distinguish objects clearly, and for a moment he felt that queer
sensation of being lost, of not knowing just where he was---that
feeling which sometimes comes to one even in the most familiar
surroundings. At once, however, it left him, and the little rhyme
crept into his mind instead.
"Wonder why I waked up so suddenly?" was his silent query as he
lay there blinking up at the sky, watching the few visible stars
grow pale and paler. "Thought I heard some noise like distant
thunder, very far away, and then it changed into the sound of
muffled oars, or the tchug-chug-tchug of a motor boat. Then a
voice said softly, 'It's a fine morn---' Oh, pshaw! Must have
been dreaming. Is anybody else awake?"
He sat up and peered through the dusk. No, his companions were
still asleep, prone on the sand. The breeze had lessened and
the nocturnal insects had begun to take flight into the shadowy
undergrowth, retreating before the advance of day. Across the
dark stretch of water between this island and the mainland a flock
of waterfowl flew noiselessly and vanished over the dunes. The
surf broke with monotonous, soothing rhythm, stirring the silence
with little waves of sound.
"It must have been the surf I heard," Hugh thought, still trying
to decide what had roused him from sleep.
Quietly rising, so as not to disturb his friends, he stole down
to the beach and stood gazing at the sloop, which now rode calmly
at anchor, her bow light still shining.
"And yet it did sound like a motor boat," he said aloud.
The sound of his own voice, breaking the stillness, almost startled
him. With a short, low laugh at his habit of talking aloud when
alone, he turned his back on camp and walked on for some little
distance up the beach, until he rounded a curve of the shore and
saw before him a narrow channel separating the island on which he
stood from another, slightly larger. Clumps of young palms grew on
that other island, taller and greener than those around the camping
place. Hugh had been told that a palmetto bud cut out of a young,
fresh, green palm would be fine with a piece of fat pork in making
a stew; so he felt tempted to swim across the estuary and gather a
choice bud.
The fact is, this desire was chiefly an excuse for a bit of exploration.
Hugh loved to prowl around in unfamiliar places even if he were
alone, though he naturally preferred to share a quest of discoveries
with some comrade. So now, shedding his coat, outer shirt, and shoes,
but retaining his other garments for protection against mosquitoes,
he dived into the inlet and swam across it easily.
Continuing his tramp, he presently found himself on the slope of a
sandy mound which formed the northeastern extremity of the small
island. From the top of this he could obtain a good view of the
surrounding islands and the mainland. He sat down to rest on the
mound and to enjoy the outlook.
By this time the eastern sky was beginning to show a pale rosy glow,
and soon the first rays of the rising sun turned the edges of clouds
into flame. Across this glowing expanse the mainland stretched as
far as the eye could see, a dark, low-lying, emerald-hued mass,
varied and mysterious.
As Hugh gazed, the sun rose into view, flooding earth and sky and sea
with glorious light. The boy drew a deep breath of wonder and turned
to look around him on all sides. As he did so, his eyes rested on
something which changed his breath of admiration into a gasp of
astonishment.
At the base of the mound on which he sat, partly hidden by clumps
of stunted cypress and palms, was a small hut built of bamboo
and thatched with palm leaves. It was built in the form of a
lean-to against the slope of a sand dune near the shore, and at
first glance it seemed to be part of the island itself. Indeed,
it was so well concealed that Hugh might never have noticed it
at all, save for the fact that he caught sight of a canoe with three
men in it approaching the hut, from behind still another island.
Some instinct warned him not to let himself be seen, and he slid
down from the top of the mound and lay flat, watching the canoe.
He felt like a scout in the enemy's territory, or a sentry on duty,
stationed there to observe the actions of unknown foes.
To his surprise, the canoe came to land directly in front of the
hut, and the three men sprang out into the shallow water and drew
it up on the beach. From the bottom of the canoe they lifted a long
object rolled in canvas. Suspending this from their shoulders, they
disappeared into the hut.