VIII.
Blue Sky.—Building a House.—The Signal Staff.—A fatal Disgust.—Mournful Forebodings.
EARLY the next morning the boys were all up, quite refreshed, in spite of their unaccustomed beds. They gathered the embers of the fire together, and heaping on fresh fuel, started it into a blaze. Then they proceeded to secure a breakfast. This could not be immediately attended to, however, for the tide was not at its lowest ebb, and it was necessary to wait for two or three hours. Enough shell-fish remained to stay their appetites till something better could be procured.
To their great joy, they saw that the fog had all gone. A warm, fresh breeze was blowing, the sky was clear and cloudless, and the sun rose brilliantly, casting his dazzling rays in a radiant flood of lustre across the sea. If there had been any feeling of discontent, it would have been dispelled by the grandeur of the scene.
Some eight or ten miles away they saw the main land. Far away, on the other side of the bay, they saw a line of hills, terminating in the familiar form of Blomidon, while, looking along the beach, they saw lying beyond this island the one on which they had landed the day before. They now knew that they had drifted past that, and had gone ashore on the adjoining one, and they could understand the whole of that course which they had made blindly through the fog. It was with much eagerness that they looked around for the schooner. But they saw no traces of her whatever. The place where she had anchored was plainly discernible, but she had gone. It was not difficult to know the reason of this, since it was the very thing which they expected would happen. But where was the schooner now? Which way had she gone? When would she return? How could those on board possibly find them out? All these were questions which it was not easy to answer.
While waiting for the tide to fall, they wandered up the banks in order to select some place suitable for a camp. It was not long before they settled on a spot which seemed very suitable. Near where they had built the fire, the cliff ended, and the side of the island became a wooded slope. About fifty feet above the fire, there was a broad, open platform, free from trees and covered with moss. Walking on beyond this, they ascended to the edge of the cliff, where it stood up two hundred feet above the shore. Here grew a solitary tree about fifty feet high, and very conspicuous from its situation. Around it the rock was uncovered in places.
The discovery of these places filled them with delight. They had already decided to build a camp, and the platform first mentioned seemed to all to be very suitable.
“But we must find a spring somewhere,” said Bruce, who, after his night’s rest, declared himself as well as ever.
“So we must,” said Bart. “Boys, let some of us hunt up a spring.”
Off they went in different directions, and soon every one was shouting out a discovery of water. In fact, in that damp and well-watered country, springs can easily be found on every hill-side. The nearest one was the best, and by breaking away some of the earth and digging a hole with a stone in the clay of the bank, a well was rudely formed, which was suitable for all immediate needs.
By the time they had finished these explorations, the tide was sufficiently low to admit of a search for their breakfast. All the boys went off, since all were equally interested. The search was perfectly successful, resulting in the capture of thirteen lobsters and a great quantity of shrimps. Bringing back their prey in triumph, they heated a large number of stones and cooked all the lobsters together, partly for the sake of keeping them better, and partly that they might have a good supply of ready-cooked provisions on hand.
“Do you know, boys,” said Phil Kennedy, as they sat at breakfast, “I’ve got an idea?”
“Good for you. What is it?”
“Why, we ought to have a signal.”
“That’s true.”
“Well, my plan is to have a signal up there,” said Phil, pointing to the solitary tree on the top of the cliff.
“How can you manage it?”
“Why, turn that tree into a flag-staff by cutting off the branches., I can climb it, and if I can have the hatchet for a little-while, I’ll promise to get every branch off.”
“Well, now, Phil,” said Bruce, “I call that a first-rate idea. But where will you get a flag?”
“I’ll fasten my red shirt on.”
“Hurrah!” cried all, clapping Phil on the back. “Phil, you’re a genius.”
“Talking about signals,” said Tom Crawford, “a flag won’t be enough. We want something for nights and for foggy days. We ought to build a heap of dry brush and kindling, and be ready to light it at a moment’s notice. Perhaps it would be too much trouble to keep it going all night.”
“Yes; it would,” said Bruce. “The best thing would be to have a pile ready to light. But the first thing to do is to build our camp, and we’ll have lots of brush ready for the pile. Phil can have the hatchet to trim the tree after we have cut the poles and things for the camp.”
“What kind of a camp shall we have?”
“A wigwam.”
“Where’ll we get the birch bark?”
“Explore the island.”
“That’ll take too much time. We want a camp to-day, and a camp we must have. The best way will be to build an ordinary one of poles and spruce brush, and after that is built, we can look about for birch bark.”
“And then I’ve got my oar to finish,” said Arthur, who had been working on it at intervals all the morning.
“Well,” said Bart, “suppose we go to work at the camp first. We’ll want something to fasten it with. If you like, I’ll go and hunt after some roots that I know of. They’ll do first rate for ropes.”
“All right; and we’ll go and cut the poles.”
Off they went, four of them after poles and brush, and Bart after roots for ropes. The hatchet served to cut the poles, and the knives to trim them. Four industrious boys, working diligently at this, soon laid low a large number of straight, slender maple trees and an immense quantity of fir branches. These they all dragged to that platform which they had selected as the site of their house, and then looked about to find the best situation for the temporary camp. As they expected to build a better one, they chose a place which would not interfere with any future operations. It was at the rear of the platform. Four trees grew there, at nearly equal distances, in the form of a square. They determined to adopt these trees as part of the frame of the camp, and use them as corner posts. Bart had succeeded in finding an immense quantity of long, flexible roots, some of which were sassafras roots, others the long roots of willow trees, and all very tough and strong. First of all, they laid four of their strongest poles from tree to tree, the rear pole being about eight feet high, and the front one five feet. The side poles sloped up from front to rear. There they stuck a large number of poles into the ground in front, on the sides and in the rear, about a foot apart, leaving space for a door and a window. Then they laid poles over the top crosswise, so as to form a good foundation for a roof. All these were firmly fastened, so that at last, when the frame was completed, it was as secure as though it had been nailed together; in fact, much more so.
So far, all had been well and successfully accomplished; but the next task was a more difficult one. This consisted in interweaving fir brush between the poles, so that they should be firm and strong. Beginning at the bottom, each bush was carefully inserted and pressed as closely down as possible. It was a tedious process; but the five industrious boys worked unweariedly, and at last had the satisfaction of seeing the rear and the right side completed. Then they concluded to rest for a while and dine.
Cold lobster and cold water were all the fare that they could command; but they ate with a good appetite, and greatly enjoyed the brief respite from their hard work. After this was over, they returned to their task, and at length completed the front and the left side.
Now the roof remained. This was the most difficult task of all. Three boys went on the roof, and two below handed up brush as fast as it was required. They began at the lower side in front, and inserted the brush so as to lie along the slope of the roof like thatch. The butt-end of each bush was inserted, and the brush ends projected. The flat branches of fir trees are of such a nature that they will lie very close to any surface on which they may be placed. These brushes were all placed in double layers; each upper row overlapped the lower one; and thus a roof was formed thick and close enough to turn any ordinary fall of rain, though, of course, it could not be expected to keep out the water in case of a prolonged storm. After the roof was all covered, the last brush at the upper edge was intertwined with others which were placed across them, and these again were all securely fastened to the poles below.
Then their spruce camp was finished, and was almost an exact counterpart of the one which they had built in the woods. They had done it well and quickly, for long practice in this work in their own woods had given them great skill in the construction of such buildings as these.
The last thing to attend to was the beds. All the brush that remained was brought inside and laid lengthwise at-the rear of the camp. Then they went into the woods, and gathered an immense quantity of dry, soft moss, which they spread over the spruce brush. In this way they formed a bed large enough for the whole party, as soft as a hair mattress, and as good as anything can be for the repose of a weary frame.
This completed their work, and it was not yet sundown. They had worked nobly; and when they stood out on the platform, and regarded their handiwork, their delight burst forth in ringing cheers.
And now Phil claimed the hatchet, so as to carry out his cherished purpose of forming a signal staff. The others all went up to watch him at his work. Phil climbed up without any difficulty, and began at the upper branches, cutting away on a level with his waist, and using the lower ones to stand on. Phil was skilful with his hatchet; the branches were not large, and came tumbling down, beneath his strokes, with great rapidity. These the boys below gathered together, and heaped up in a pile, at a sufficient distance off to burn without injury to the signal staff, and yet in such a situation that any flame would be conspicuous to those on the sea. The work was soon accomplished; the last branch fell, and Phil descended to the ground. Where the tree had lately been there now arose a tall staff, naked, and ready to bear at its summit a red shirt, a pair of trousers, or anything else which the fancy of Phil might suggest as suitable to the place and the occasion.
Meanwhile Arthur had gone to the beach, and returned with an armful of shavings and choppings from the wood which he had been trying to fashion into an oar. They were dry and fine, and were intended to serve as kindling whenever the time might come for kindling the signal fire.
And now one thing more remained to be done. They had decided to have their fire on the platform in front of the camp—a place which was greatly superior to the beach for such a purpose, and which also would give them the advantage of a warm fire on a cool evening and a light close by their dwelling-place. So they went out to collect drift-wood, and carried up a large quantity to the place. Good stones were also selected for cooking purposes, and the cold lobsters were carefully brought from the beach, and deposited in the camp. But the labor of carrying the drift-wood up the steep bank showed them that it would be as well not to be too lavish with their fuel. In order to have the cheerfulness of brilliant light along with the gratefulness of warmth, they cut a quantity of brush, which they intended to throw on the fire from time to time. Thus, with a comfortable camp, and soft beds of moss, and plenty of fuel, and a pleasant fire, with food and drink, with fine weather and a charming view, the “B. O. W. C.” might be considered as tolerably happy.
And so they would have been, if it had not been for one thing—a thing which revealed itself to them during their evening repast, and soon threw a gloom over their prospects.
It was dark; the fire was lighted, and threw out a cheerful glow; the cold lobster was brought out, and the boys began to partake. For some time nothing was said. At last, the silence was broken by Bart. He had been twisting a leg of the lobster fastidiously in his fingers, and nibbling little morsels of it, in a way which did not look very much like the fashion of a hungry boy who had done a good day’s work, when suddenly he flung the lobster’s leg into the fire.
“I can’t stand the abominable stuff any longer,” he cried.
“Neither can I,” said Bruce.
“Nor I”—“Nor I”—“Nor I”—said all the others; and the fragments of the lobster were all contemptuously thrown away.
“What are we going to do about it?” asked Tom Crawford, mournfully.
“I wouldn’t care if there was even a raw potato,” said Bart, “or a mouldy ship-biscuit, or an old dried turnip, or a bit of pork, or anything else to eat with it so as to take off the edge of it; but to eat nothing else but this everlasting lobster, lobster, lobster, is more than I can stand.”
“Tea last night,” said Tom Crawford, dolefully, “lobster. Breakfast this morning, lobster. During the morning I felt hollow—lobster. At dinner, lobster. For my part, I’ve had enough of it.”
“What can we do?”
“I’m tired of shrimps.”
“Bother shrimps.”
“O for a good slice of bread and butter!”
“Or a good mealy potato!”
“Or a beefsteak!”
“Or crackers and cheese!”
“What are we going to do? We’ll have to eat lobster, or starve.”
“I feel,” said Phil, “that I’m growing to be a lobster myself; my skin is turning quite hard.”
“I’m beginning to lose faith in desert islands,” said Arthur.
“Yes,—they’re a failure.”
“But how do we know?” said Bart. “We haven’t explored yet. We don’t know half of what may be on the island.”
“We know pretty well what there is,” said Bruce. “Spruce trees, maple trees, moss, and rocks,—that’s about all.”
“Unfortunately, it isn’t a South Sea island, and so we can’t expect to pull cocoa-nuts from the trees, or have bread-fruit for our breakfasts. There are no mangoes, no bananas, no oranges, no grapes, no nothing, unless we choose to eat bark and fir cones.”
“The next time we try a desert island, boys, I move that we make tracks for the Pacific Ocean,” said Arthur.
“I second that motion,” cried Phil.
“It’s rather odd,” said Bart, “that all of us should get tired of lobster at the same time.”
“It would be odder yet,” said Tom, “if any of us had been able to stand it any longer.”
“That’s about the thing,” said Bruce. “And so the question remains yet,” said Arthur, “What are we going to do?”
No one answered. They all sat looking at the fire. Phil seized some brush and flung it on; the flames caught it, and crackled through it, and dashed up fiercely and brightly, lighting up five very hungry, very tired, and very discontented faces.
“Hurrah!” cried Bart at last, starting to his feet. “Hurrah! I have it!”
“What’s that?”
“Gulls’ eggs!” said Bart.
“Not bad,” said Bruce. “At any rate we can try it. Perhaps we may find some young gulls. They eat young rooks in England; why shouldn’t young gulls be good?”
“We’ll try it to-morrow,” said Tom.
“At any rate,” said Bart, “it all comes to this. We must explore the island. I’ve got my pistol. Who knows what may turn up. We may come across lots of rabbits, or, at any rate, wild fowl. Come, now, things are not so bad after all. Tomorrow will show us what the chances are for our dinner table.”
This was now the only consolation they had. The lobsters had grown abhorrent, and they could not think of touching them any more. Hungry as they were after all their hard work, they threw aside the only food that they could get. They were compelled to go supperless to bed, and there dream of more agreeable food. Fortunately, though they could not eat, they could sleep; and soon all were wandering far away in the land of Nod.