CHAPTER
VIII.
LIFE ON THE LONELY ISLAND.
THE influence of a brisk wood fire on a dark night
is remarkable. Not only does it give freely of its
heat and light, but gloom and despair are banished by
its ruddy glow, while cheerfulness and hope spring
forward as if by magic to occupy their vacant places.
At least, this was the effect of the cheery blaze our
canoemates had at length succeeded in coaxing into
life, and though it had cost them two of their
half-dozen cartridges, they felt that these had been
well expended. Their prospects had looked dismal
enough when they had been compelled to contemplate an
existence without a fire; but with it to aid them,
they felt equal to almost any emergency, and they
turned to the preparing of their ducks for supper with
renewed energy. Surely fire is well worthy of being
classed with air and water as one of the things most
necessary to human life and happiness.
Now that they had time to think of it, the boys
were very hungry, for since an early breakfast they
had eaten but a light lunch of crackers and jam. So
they barely waited to assure themselves that their
fire was going to burn, before the feathers from their
ducks were flying in all directions. When the birds
were plucked and cleaned, two sharpened sticks were
thrust through their bodies. These were rested on one
rock, with another above them to hold them in place,
so that the ducks were lifted but a few inches above a
great bed of glowing coals. Then the hungry lads sat
down to watch them, and never, to their impatient
belief, had two fowls taken so long to roast before.
They began testing their condition by sticking the
points of their knives into them long before there was
a chance of their being done. At length Sumner
declared that he was going to eat his even if it were
still raw, and the half-cooked ducks were placed on
two broad palm leaves that served at once as tables
and plates.
"My! hut isn't this fowl tough!" exclaimed Worth,
as he struggled with his share of the feast. "Sole
leather and rubber are nothing to it."
"Yes," replied Sumner; "ten-ounce army duck would
be easier eating than this fellow. I wish we could
have stewed them with rice, a few bits of pork, a
slice or two of onion, and a seasoning of pepper and
salt. How do you think that would go?"
"Please don't mention such things," said Worth,
working at a drumstick with teeth and both hands.
"Ducks ought always to be parboiled before
roasting," remarked Sumner, wisely.
"I believe this fellow would be like eggs," replied
Worth; "the more you boiled him the harder he would
get."
However, hunger and young teeth can accomplish
wonders, so it was not very long before two little
heaps of cleanly-picked bones marked all that was left
of the ducks, and though they could easily have eaten
more, the boys wisely decided to reserve the doves for
breakfast.
Although the darkness rendered it a difficult task,
Sumner managed to cut a few armfuls more of palmetto
leaves. These, shredded from their heavy stalks and
spread thickly over the floor of the lean-to, made a
couch decidedly more comfortable than a bed on the
bare ground would have been.
They could do nothing more that night, and lying
there in the firelight they had the first opportunity
since discovering the loss of their canoes to
thoroughly discuss the situation.
"What would our mothers say if they could see us
now, and know the fix we are in?" queried Worth, after
a meditative silence.
"I'm awfully glad they can't know anything about
it," replied Sumner.
"But I wish some one could know, so that they could
send a boat for us. I am sure that we don't want to
stay on this island for the rest of our lives."
"Of course not, and I don't propose to, even if no
boat comes here."
"What do you propose to do?" inquired Worth,
leaning on his elbow, and gazing at his companion with
eager interest.
"Well, in the first place, I propose to explore
this key thoroughly tomorrow, and see if any traces of
the canoes are to be found, as well as what it will
afford in the way of food and lumber. Then, if we
don't find the canoes, and no boat comes along, I
propose to build some kind of a raft, on which we can
float over to Indian Key. While boats rarely pass this
way, some are certain to pass within a short distance
of it almost every day. So from there we would have
little difficulty in getting taken off."
"Well," said Worth, regarding his companion
admiringly, "I'm sure I couldn't build a raft with
only a hatchet, and I'm awfully glad that I'm not here
all alone. What can possibly have become of our
canoes, anyway?"
"I'm sure I can't imagine," replied Sumner, "unless
some one stole them, and I don't know of any one on
the reef mean enough to do that. Besides, we haven't
seen a sail all day, nor a sign of a human being. They
couldn't have gone adrift, either -- at least, I don't
see how they could. So, on the whole, it's a conundrum
that I give up. You'd better believe that I feel badly
enough, though, over losing Psyche. That worries me a
great deal more than how we are going to get away from
here, for I never expect to own another such beauty as
she is. But there's no use crying over what can't be
helped, so let's go to sleep, and prepare for a fresh
start tomorrow. Whenever you wake during the night you
want to get up and throw a fresh stick on the fire,
and I will do the same, for we can't afford to let it
go out."
"All right," said Worth. "But, Sumner, there aren't
any wild beasts or snakes on this key, are there?"
"I don't believe there are any snakes," was the
reply, "while there certainly aren't any animals
larger than 'coons, and they won't hurt any one. No,
indeed, there is nothing to be afraid of here, and you
may be as free from anxiety on that score as though
you were in your own room in New York City. More so,"
he added, with a laugh; "for there you might have
burglars, while here there is no chance of them. I
only wish there was; for burglars in this part of the
country would have to come in boats, and we might
persuade them to take us off the key. Now go to sleep,
old man, and pleasant dreams to you."
"Good night," answered Worth, and closing his eyes,
the boy made a resolute effort to sleep. Somehow he
found it harder to do so now than it had been on his
first night of camping out The loss of the canoes
seemed to have removed an element of safety on which
he had depended, and to have suddenly placed him at an
infinite distance beyond civilization, with all its
protections. It was so awful to be imprisoned on this
lonely isle, in those faraway southern seas. He
wondered what his father and mother and Uncle Tracy
were doing, and if there was a dance at the Ponce de
Leon that night, and what his school fellows in New
York would say if they knew of his situation. He
wondered and thought of these and a thousand other
things, until finally he, too, fell asleep, and the
silence of the lonely little camp was unbroken save by
the voice of the great hoot owl, who called at regular
intervals, "Whoo, whoo, whoo-ah!"
It still wanted an hour or so of moonrise, when the
waning firelight half disclosed a human figure that
emerged from the woods behind the lean-to, and
stealthily crouched in the black shadow beside it. For
some moments it remained motionless, listening to the
regular breathing of the boys. Then it moved
noiselessly forward on hands and knees.
Suddenly Worth awoke, and sprang into a sitting
posture. At the same time he uttered a startled cry,
at the sound of which the creeping figure drew quickly
back, and disappeared behind the trunk of a tree.
"What is it?" asked Sumner, who, awakened by
Worth's cry, was also sitting up.
"I don't know," answered the boy, "but I am almost
certain that some one was trying to pull my gun
away."
CHAPTER IX.
THE NOCTURNAL VISITOR
FOR at full minute the boys sat motionless,
listening intently for any sound that should betray
the presence of the intruder who, Worth was positive,
had visited their camp. Once they both heard a slight
rustling in the bushes behind them; and Worth, putting
his hand on Sumner's arm, whispered, breathlessly,
"There !--hear that?"
"That's nothing," answered Sumner. "Probably that
'coon has come back to look for the rest of his
supper."
"But a 'coon wouldn't pull at a gun," insisted
Worth.
"Oh, you must have been dreaming," returned Sumner.
"Your gun hasn't disappeared, has it?"
"No, but I am sure I felt it move. I threw my arm
across it before I went to sleep, and its moving woke
me. I felt it move once after I was awake, as though
some one were trying to pull it away very gently. Then
I sat up and called out, 'Who's there?' but there
wasn't any answer, and I didn't hear a sound. But,
Sumner, there's some one on this island besides
ourselves, I know there is, and he'll kill us if he
gets the chance. Can't we get away somehow -- can't
we? I shall die of fright if we have to stay here any
longer!"
'SOME ONE WAS TRYING TO PULL MY GUN AWAY.'
"Yes, of course we can," answered Sumner,
soothingly, "and we'll set about it as soon as
daylight comes. Until then we'll keep a sharp lookout,
though I can't believe there is a human being on the
key besides ourselves. We surely would have seen some
traces of him."
As the boy finished speaking he went outside and
threw some more wood on the fire. In another minute a
bright blaze had driven back the shadows from a wide
circle about the little hut, and rendered it
impossible for any one to approach without discovery.
Then the canoemates sat with their precious guns in
their hands, and talked in low tones until the moon
rose above the trees behind them, flooding the whole
scene with a light almost as bright as that of
day.
By this time Worth's conversation began to grow
unintelligible; his head sank lower and lower, until
at length he slipped down from his sitting position
fast asleep. Then Sumner thought he might as well lie
down, and in another minute he, too, was in the land
of dreams. Worth was very restless, and occasionally
talked in his sleep, which is probably the reason why
the dark form still crouching in the shadows behind
the camp did not again venture to approach it.
It was broad daylight, and the sun was an hour
high, when the boys next awoke, wondering whether
their fright of the night before had been a reality or
only a dream. Under the fear dispelling influence of
the sunlight even Worth was inclined to think it might
have been the latter, while Sumner was sure of it.
After replenishing their fire, they went down to
the beach in the hope of seeing a sail, and for their
morning plunge in the clear water. There was nothing
in sight; but while they were bathing, Sumner
discovered a fine bunch of oysters. These, roasted in
their shells, together with the birds saved from the
evening before, made quite a satisfactory breakfast.
After eating it, and carefully banking their fire with
earth, they set forth to explore the island.
As they were most anxious to search for traces of
the lost canoes, and had already penetrated the
interior as far as the central pond of freshwater,
they decided to follow the coastline as closely as
possible. Accordingly, with their loaded guns over
their shoulders, they set out along the water's edge.
Their progress was slow, for in many places the
mangroves were so thick that they found great
difficulty in forcing a way through them. Then, too,
they found a quantity of planks, many of which they
hauled up, as well as they could, beyond the reach of
the tide for future use. While thus engaged, the
meridian sun and their appetites indicated the hour of
noon before they reached a small grove of coconut
trees on the north end of the island, beneath which
they decided to rest.
Sumner climbed one of the tall, smooth trunks, and
cutting off a great bunch of nuts, in all stages of
ripeness, let it fall to the ground with a crash. As
he was about to descend, his eye was arrested by
something that instantly occupied his earnest
attention. It was only the stem of another bunch of
nuts; but it had been cut, and that so recently that
drops of fresh sap were still oozing from it. From his
elevated perch he could also see where other bunches
had been cut from trees near by, and he slid to the
ground in a very reflective frame of mind. He could
not bear, however, to arouse Worth's fears by
communicating his suspicions until he had reduced them
to a certainty. The nuts might have been taken by some
passing sponger, though he did not believe they had
been.
So he said nothing of his discovery while they
lunched off of coconuts, ripe and partially so, and
took refreshing draughts of their milk. He did,
however, keep a sharp lookout, and finally spied what
resembled a dim trail leading through the bushes
behind them towards the interior.
Finally, on the pretext that he might get a shot at
some doves, and asking Worth to remain where he was
for a few minutes, Sumner entered the bushes,
determined to discover the mystery, if that trail
would lead him to it. lie had not gone more than a
hundred yards when his foot was caught by a low vine,
and he plunged head first into a thick ty-ti bush. He
fell with a great crash, and made such a noise in
extricating him self from the thorny embrace that he
did not hear a quick rush and a rustling of the
undergrowth but a short distance from him. What he did
hear, though, a minute after he regained his footing,
was a startled cry, and the roar of Worth's gun. Then
came a succession of yells, mingled with cries of
murder, and such shouts for help, coupled with his own
name, that for a moment he was paralyzed with
bewilderment and a sickening fear. Then he bounded
back down the dim trail, just in time to see Worth
throw down his gun and rush towards the struggling
figure of a Negro. The latter was rolling on the
ground at the foot of a coconut tree, and uttering the
most piercing
yells.
THE LATTER WAS ROLLING ON THE GROUND
AT THE FOOT OF A COCOANUT TREE.
