Part 37 (1/2)
”A SAIL! A SAIL!”
Twice daily on each of the succeeding days Mr. McKay and his companions paid a hurried visit to the treasure-cave, and at the end of that time the bulk of the buccaneers' spoil was safely hidden in the spot chosen for its reception.
Then, with the return of the spring tides, the work of salving the yawl was resumed.
Slowly, yet without a hitch, the sunken craft was moved towards the cradle which awaited its burden, till the falling off of the tides found the yawl within ten yards of low-water mark.
”I have been thinking, pater,” observed Andy one day, as they were preparing to revisit the cave.
”Thinking what, my boy?”
”Why, every journey we make to the cavern we perform practically empty-handed. Would it not be well to carry a supply of provisions with us and store them in the cave? You see, if those savages should return we might be glad of a retreat.”
”Quite true, though I sincerely hope we shall not be put to such straits. However, we'll take a few barrels of provisions and some rifles and ammunition as well.”
”And water?”
”Ay, but that's the rub. Water is heavy to carry about, and as far as I can see there's no spring or brook within a mile of the entrance to the cave.”
”I wonder if there's water to be found above the cliffs in which lies the mouth of the tunnel. I noticed several small streams when I climbed the mountain, though, of course, I didn't ascend on that side.
I think I'll explore that slope as soon as possible.”
”Why not to-day? Ellerton and you can do so while we are making our midday trip back to the house.”
Accordingly, instead of ascending the tunnel with Mr. McKay and Terence, the two chums clambered up the face of the cliff. At the top they found that the land sloped steeply towards the peak, the ground being thickly covered with stunted bushes and occasional clumps of palms.
”Look here, Hoppy,” remarked Andy, as they sat down to recover their breadth after their fatiguing climb. ”It's all very well living on an island when everything goes well, but we can't say that it is now.
Perhaps it's a useless fear, but I fear that there's always the possibility of those savage brutes coming back here in overwhelming numbers and wiping us out. That does not tend to make things comfortable, although it may tend to liven things up.”
”But they had such a terrible smas.h.i.+ng last time,” replied Ellerton.
”True! But didn't we give them a good licking when they pursued us in their canoes? That didn't prevent them repeating their unwelcome attentions.”
”I hope you don't mean to show the white feather, Andy?”
”Not I. If there's a dust-up, I'll do my best; but, at the same time, I shan't be sorry to get the yawl repaired and say good-bye to the island. The treasure can wait till we charter a steamer to fetch it.”
”Well, the savages haven't returned, so we can still make the best of things,” replied Ellerton cheerfully. ”But we must be moving or we'll find no water.”
The two lads had not gone fifty yards ere they came across a small stream. Andy bent down, and raising some of the water in the palm of his hand applied it to his lips.
”Fresh as one could wish,” he p.r.o.nounced.
”Good! Now we'll follow its course and see if it approaches the mouth of the cave.”
The rivulet, for it was nothing more, wended its way in an almost semicircular direction, till, at about two hundred yards from where the lads had struck it, it emptied itself into a rift in the rocks, the splash of its fall echoing dimly from apparently unfathomable depths.
”Look! We are not very far from that part of the cliff that overhangs the mouth of the cave,” exclaimed Ellerton. ”What is to prevent us from digging a shallow trench and conducting the water right to the entrance to the tunnel?”
”It's fairly hard rock,” objected Andy, ”It will be no end of a task cutting a new watercourse.”