Part 26 (2/2)

”Leave the island? Never! I'm on dry land now, and I'm never going to trust myself in a boat again.”

”Maybe you'll think differently after a bit,” said the captain.

By this time Bob and Tim had the boat in very shallow water. They managed to turn it on the keel, and the first thing they saw was the sail in the bottom. Ropes, fastened to various projections, had prevented the canvas from floating away.

”There!” cried the captain, when he saw it. ”That solves our shelter problem for us. We'll make a tent. Oh, we're in luck, all right. 'Bob's Island' isn't such a bad place after all.”

Bob blushed with pleasure. Then and there he made up his mind that his foolishness should be a thing of the past. He was of some importance in the world now, and it would not do to be playing childish pranks.

But if the captain was delighted at finding the sail, he was much more so when, on opening the lockers, which fastened with patent catches, everything was found to be as ”dry as a bone,” as Tim Flynn expressed it.

”Now we can have a change from the fish and fruit diet,” said the captain, as he showed where the canned food had been stowed away.

There were tins of s.h.i.+p's biscuits, some jars of jam and marmalade, plenty of canned beef, tongue and other meats, rice, flour--in short, a bountiful supply for the small party of castaways.

Captain Spark had ordered the boats to be well provisioned when he knew the _Eagle_ was doomed, and his forethought now stood them in good stead.

In another locker was a kit of carpenter's tools, which would come in very handy if they were to remain long on the island, and in another water-tight compartment the captain had stowed his chronometer, his instruments for finding the position of the s.h.i.+p, and some charts.

Owing to the fact that the lockers remained tightly closed when the boat capsized, nothing had been lost out of them, and they had also served to make the gig more buoyant. Practically nothing was missing from the boat save the personal belongings of Bob and the others--their clothing in the valises, the mast which had floated away, and some of the captain's papers relating to the s.h.i.+p. But this did not worry them, as they were now in good shape to live on the island, at least for several weeks.

”All hands to lighten s.h.i.+p!” called the captain, when he had looked over what the boat contained. They made short work of carrying the things from the lockers well up on the beach. With the boat thus made lighter, it was pulled out of reach of the waves.

”Now for a shelter!” the commander called, when the gig had been safely moored. ”This sail will make a fine tent.”

So it proved when it was set up on some poles which Tim Flynn cut with a light hatchet found among the tools. Mr. Tarbill could not be depended on to do anything, and he was so mournful, standing around and lamenting the fact that he had ever undertaken the trip, that, to get rid of him, Captain Spark sent him off once more to catch turtles, or, if he could not do that, to gather some of the eggs. This last Mr. Tarbill was able to do, but he was not successful in turning any of the crawling creatures over on their backs.

The tent was erected before dark, and, with a cheerful fire burning in front of it, supper was prepared. This time they had tin dishes to eat from, as a supply was found in the gig's lockers.

Tired out with their day's work, and by the struggle with the sea, the castaways all slept soundly. Nor was there any need to stand guard during the night. On beds of palm leaves, under the tent, they slumbered undisturbed until the sun, s.h.i.+ning in on them, awoke all four.

”Well, I'm beginning to feel quite to home,” remarked the captain, who could be cheerful under misfortune. His good spirits should have been a lesson to Mr. Tarbill. That gentleman had lost nothing but what could be easily replaced, but the captain had lost his fine s.h.i.+p. Still he did not complain, and Bob, seeing his demeanor under trying circ.u.mstances, resolved to try and be like the stanch mariner.

After breakfast Captain Spark looked carefully over the gig to see if the craft was seaworthy. He decided that it was, and he sent Tim to look about for a suitable small tree to be cut down as a mast for the sail.

”Are you going to sail away?” asked Mr. Tarbill nervously.

”I don't know. I want to be all ready to do so in case we find it necessary. This noon I will work out our position and locate this island on the chart. Then I can determine how far it is to the nearest mainland, or to a larger island.”

”I'll never go in a small boat on this big ocean,” declared Mr.

Tarbill.

Captain Spark, who had completed his examination of the gig, was standing near it, idly gazing off across the waste of water, which had greatly subsided since the storm, when he caught sight of some small object about two miles off sh.o.r.e.

”Bob!” he called, ”bring me the binoculars,” for a pair of marine gla.s.ses had been found in one of the lockers.

The captain gazed through the gla.s.ses for several seconds. Then he cried out:

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