THE WILD MAN
Bunny and Sue would at once have rushed down the sand toward the
funny little wooden house, just as they would have dashed toward the
grass hut when they first saw that. But Mr. Brown called to them to
wait.
“We want to see if any one is in that hut before we go too near,” he
said. “Perhaps some one is living there.”
“Oh!” murmured Bunny, and Sue clasped her doll closer as if she
feared some one from the wooden house would come forth to take
Elizabeth.
“Isn’t it rather queer to find a wooden house on an island like
this?” asked Mrs. Brown.
“Yes, it is,” agreed her husband. “This must have been built by a
white man, for natives would not take the trouble to put up anything
more than a leaf or grass hut, which does them very well.”
“However, there doesn’t seem to be any one in that place—neither
native nor white man,” went on Mrs. Brown after a pause, during which
they all looked intently at the small house. “It may be like the
hut—deserted.”
“It seems so,” said her husband, while Bunny and Sue waited for what
would next happen. “Hello in there!” suddenly called Mr. Brown in a
loud voice. “Is any one there?”
No one answered nor did any one come forth. After waiting a little
longer Mr. Brown walked slowly toward the house, followed by his wife
and the children. And as he drew near it Mr. Brown cried out:
“Why, it’s a ship’s deckhouse. This is part of a wrecked ship that
has been washed up on shore. I thought it looked so at the first
glimpse I had of it, and now I am sure. This house is part of a ship.”
“What ship?” Sue Brown wanted to know.
“That would be hard to say unless the name of the vessel was painted
somewhere on the house,” answered her father. “But let’s look
inside.”
When they had done this they found the ship’s house to be well fitted
up for a home. On one side of the place were two berths like those in
the _Beacon_, only smaller. One of these was arranged with blankets
and a pillow and it looked as if it was ready for some one to sleep
in. The upper berth was not made up, but there was a pile of blankets
in it.
In the middle of the little house was a table, and on it were some
dishes. A few boxes served as chairs. In a corner a rough fireplace
had been made of stones, plastered together with mud and sand.
“Some one has been living here!” exclaimed Mrs. Brown.
“Yes,” agreed her husband. “And it looks, from the neatness of it, to
be the home of some sailor. No native would keep the place so nice.”
“Look! Here is a lot of canned food,” said Mrs. Brown, opening the
door of a cupboard. On the shelves were arranged many cans of things
to eat.
“I can guess what has happened,” said Mr. Brown. “The ship, of which
this deckhouse was a part, was wrecked on this island, or near it.
There must have been big waves to have washed the house this far up
on the sand, or else the shipwrecked sailors hauled it here. There
must have been more than one of them to do the work, for the house is
heavy.”
“Well, where are the sailors now?” Bunny wanted to know.
“Maybe they went home,” suggested Sue.
“They seem to have deserted the place,” said Mr. Brown. “Like the
grass hut, this place has been lived in, but there is no one here
now.”
Mrs. Brown, who had been walking about the place looking at things
here and there, went over to the stone fireplace and held her hand
down near the ashes.
“What’s the matter, Mother, are your hands cold?” asked Sue.
“No, I wanted to see if these ashes were warm,” was the answer. “And
they are!” she called to her husband. “Feel, Walter! These embers
aren’t cold yet! That shows some one has been living here very
lately. They must have gone out just before we came in! They must
have cooked their breakfast here!”
She stood up and looked at her husband. He came over and put his hand
down near the ashes.
“Yes,” he said, “there has been a fire here within two hours. I am
sure now that there is some one on this island besides ourselves. We
must look about.”
“This is very strange,” said Mrs. Brown. “I wonder who it can be?”
“Some sailor, you can depend on that,” her husband answered. “No one
but a sailor would have things arranged like this. It is in shipshape
fashion. We must send Will and Sam over to look at this. They may be
able to tell from what ship this house was torn away.”
“Could we come and live here?” Bunny asked. “I think it’s nicer than
the grass hut.”
“So do I,” added Sue. “It’s got a door to it that shuts, and windows
with glass in ’em.”
This last was only partly true, for out of the windows, of which
there were two on either side, most of the glass was broken. It was
surprising that even a single pane remained, when one stops to think
of the violent storm that had torn the house loose from the ship.
“I hardly think we had better move our camp over here until we see
who is living here,” said Mr. Brown. “Whoever does, has a right to
this place and they might not like visitors. But if we find that the
person who left this place isn’t coming back, then we would have a
right to come here. Let’s look about a bit outside.”
There were several chests and boxes in the deckhouse, but these Mr.
Brown did not open, though they were not locked. He wanted first to
find out what sort of person or persons had been living in the place,
cooking over the fireplace and sleeping in the lower bunk.
However, there was little outside to tell anything. Scattered about
the beach were broken boxes and barrels and what seemed to be part of
a wrecked vessel of some sort.
“It was a sailing ship and not a steamer, that much is sure,” said
Mr. Brown, as he and the children picked up pieces of wood. “If we
could find out the name we would know more about the wreck.”
Mrs. Brown was growing curious, now that it was certain some one else
was on the island besides themselves. She wondered who he was and how
long he had been here.
“If we could only find out who it is,” she said to her husband.
“We will in a little while, I’m sure,” he said. “The place isn’t very
big.”
“But there are many places to conceal one,” Mrs. Brown went on, a
sudden thought coming to her. “The cocoanut palm trees and bushes are
very thick. Even now some one may be hiding and looking out on us.”
“Whoever has been living in that house,” said Mr. Brown, turning to
glance at it, “is a white man, I’m sure. He wouldn’t hide and spy
out on us. He would be only too glad to see us, for if he is here by
himself he must be very lonesome. What I think is that he has had his
breakfast and has gone off hunting or fishing to get something more
to eat. Probably he is tired of living on canned food and wants some
fresh meat or fish.”
“I wish he’d let me help him fish,” put in Bunny Brown. “I could fish
here all right, couldn’t I, Daddy?” he asked.
“If we had a hook and line we might,” was the answer. “But we didn’t
bring any of those things with us.”
“They might be in the boat,” suggested Mrs. Brown. “So many things
were in her that I feel quite sure it will contain a fishing outfit.”
“Perhaps,” assented her husband. “But now we had better go back to
camp and tell Will and Sam what we have found.”
“I think that would be best,” said Mrs. Brown. “They, being sailors,
would know what sort of ship this house came from. And when we return
this man—whoever he may be—will probably be back. Then we can see who
he is.”
Bunny and Sue had wandered off a little way from their parents during
this talk. They now came running back, somewhat out of breath and
much excited.
“I think—” panted Bunny, “I think he’s coming back now!”
“Who?” asked his father.
“The man that lives in this house.”
“And he’s a wild man!” gasped Sue.
“A wild man?” echoed her mother.
“Yes, he’s got long black hair and long black whiskers and he looks
funny. There he goes now! Look!”
Both children pointed to an opening in the bushes and Mr. and Mrs.
Brown saw a strange figure running away. As Sue had said, he did,
indeed, look like a “wild man,” for his hair was long and straggly
and his beard was so lengthy that it flowed over his shoulders as he
ran.
“Look!” cried Bunny. “He’s a wild man all right!”