X.
New Attempts at Cookery.—Phil on the Lookout.—A Sail! A Sail!—The Signal of the red Shirt.—The Home of the O’Raffertys.
WE left Phil behind, on the beach.
After the others had departed, Phil occupied himself with making arrangements to while away the time. First of all, he set to work to try and make an omelet. After a long search on the beach, he found some clam shells, which he took up to the platform; and then, selecting some flat stones, he threw them into the fire. Then he mixed some eggs in one of the shells, and tried to beat them with his jackknife. His success was not exactly dazzling; but he was satisfied to a certain extent, and intensely interested. At length, drawing forth one of the stones, which, by this time, was red hot, he poured the mixture on its surface. There was a fizzle, a steam, a hiss, and then a horrible smell of burnt egg. Phil made an awful face, and giving the stone a kick, sent it flying down to the beach, omelet and all.
Not at all discouraged, he began again ab ovo. Drawing out another stone, he determined to give it time to cool. So he mixed up some more eggs in the shell; and after waiting patiently for a long time for the stone, he at length thought it was cool enough, and poured the mixture upon it. It certainly had grown cool this time in fact, somewhat too cool, as Phil gradually learned, when, after waiting patiently, he found that there was no appearance of any progress whatever in the cookery. So this, too, was a failure, and Phil disdainfully hurled it after its predecessor.
But he was not discouraged even yet. Once more he took his shell and made another mixture, and then drew forth the stone, and carefully watched it, trying it from time to time with the tip of his finger, to see if it was of the proper temperature. Having singed the tips of all his fingers, he concluded that it was time to stop that mode of testing, and run the risk of an actual trial. So he once more poured the mixture on the stone. Aha! this time there was no mistake. A pleasant steam came up, which was grateful to a famished boy. The only trouble was, the lower part was done before the upper was in the least affected; and worse still, it began to burn while the upper part was raw. Phil was not yet disheartened, however; and drawing his knife, he made desperate efforts to insert it under the omelet, so as to turn it over. But these efforts were not successful. He only succeeded in intermixing all together in a mess, and mangling it into a general mush. In trying to taste some of it, he found in his mouth nothing but a very unpleasant mixture of raw and burnt egg. With a sigh he relinquished his experiments, and sent this stone after the others.
He now contented himself with roasting two of them; and having partaken of them, he sauntered up the hill to the signal station. Here he lay down, and looked lazily out at the water.
Scarcely had he done so, than he gave a start. An object was before his eyes which he had not been able to see from the platform. The other end of the island could not be seen from there, because a projecting bank shut it out from view; but from here there was a fair view of the other islands. And there, just coming out from behind Pinnacle Island, was a schooner of the size and rig of the Antelope, and he did not doubt for a moment but that it was their schooner. She was now sailing along, and was not far from that very anchorage where he had seen her last.
With a shout and a wild beating of his heart, he sprang to his feet, and stared, with eager eyes, upon the schooner.
She was coming on very well, with a good breeze, and was coming in his direction. Would she continue on her course? If so, she would soon be there. Would she turn aside, and pass through the channel that separated the islands, or sail away to the main land opposite? The thought was intolerable. He had grown weary of desert life; he longed to leave the island,—or, rather, he longed to get something to eat.
So he rushed away to the pile of brush, and lighting his matches,—a whole card at a time,—he touched up the kindling wood, and in a few moments the blaze was spreading through the mass of dry brush. Soon the flames rose high into the air, bearing with them vast volumes of black smoke.
Would they see that signal? They could not help seeing it. Would they understand it? Ah! that was another question. Still it came on in the same direction, without showing any signs of turning either to the right hand or the left. And now it had passed the channel between the islands, and was coming along in a line with the beach below, and not more than half a mile out.
The brush fire was burning briskly, and could last for half an hour without replenishing; but something more was needed. What could he do? At first he thought of running down to the beach and shouting. But then he feared that he might not be seen on the beach, and that his voice might not be heard. So that plan was rejected. One only remained, and that was, to climb the signal-staff. In an instant all this had passed through his mind, and in another instant it was acted upon. He tore off his red shirt, tied the sleeves together loosely, and hung it around his neck, and then, with wonderful agility, climbed the tree till he reached the top. The stumps of the branches, which remained on the trunk of the tree, formed a good foothold, and he was able to stand securely, clasping the tree with one arm, while with the other he took his shirt from around his neck, and waved it to and fro in the air. Below, and about thirty feet on one side, the fire blazed; and there, fifty feet in the air, on that solitary tree, stood the boy, waving, wildly and incessantly, the brilliant scarlet cloth. He felt that he had done the best, and if this would not attract attention, nothing would.
All this time the schooner came on, and at length came nearly opposite. Phil saw the crowd on board. He saw them staring and gesticulating. He was recognized—he was safe! Yes, there was Mr. Long,—he knew that tall figure in black,—and he was going to the stern. What for? Aha! wasn’t that glorious? He had gone and had seized the ropes, and lowered and hoisted the flag again a score of times. Ha, ha, ha! What flag? What flag? Why, their own flag,—the flag of the “B. O. W. C.,”—which had’ evidently been waving there ever since their departure, and now saluted them as it brought them safety.
Phil’s merry laughter rang out loud and clear, as he saw all this, in his excitement and his joy. He saw the schooner head in straight toward the shore, then sweep round; and then down rattled her anchor, her sails fell, and she lay waiting.
Phil gave a final wave and a loud, shout; and then, descending the tree, he scampered down the slope and along the beach, as fast as his little legs would carry him, until at last he reached the verge of the shore opposite the schooner. Here he gave a loud hurrah. His shrill voice reached the schooner, which was only a short distance off, and was responded to by a loud cheer from all on board.
“Where are the other boys?” cried Mr. Long.
“In the woods; they’ll be here soon.”
“Where’s the boat?”
“Up there,” said Phil, pointing to where it lay.
“We can’t get ashore. We’ve got no boat.”
“When the tide gets up, and the boys come back, we can get the boat out,” said Phil.
“How are you all?” cried Mr. Long.
“Very well, but nearly starved.”
Instantly Mr. Long disappeared into the cabin. Returning shortly, he had a bundle in his hand, around which a string was tied. Then taking one end of the string, and whirling it violently around, sling fashion, he hurled it through the air toward the shore. The parcel fell about twenty feet beyond Phil. He ran to it, and, on opening it, found a quantity of sandwiches.
The ravenous way in which he devoured the sandwiches showed to those on board, far more powerfully than words, how famished poor Phil must have been.
“Will the others be back soon?” asked Mr. Long.
“O, yes. They’ve gone across the island to explore.”
“Were you able to sleep?”
“Sleep? O, yes, first rate.”
“How?”
“In the camp up there,” said Phil, with his mouth full of sandwich, waving his hand in the direction of the platform. “We’d have enjoyed it if we’d only had some sandwiches,” he added after a time, as he made a fresh onslaught on the parcel.
It was now about eleven o’clock, and not quite half tide. The tide was rising, however, and in due time would be up to the boat; and then, if the boys did not come, they might get in near enough to throw Phil a line, and from the schooner pul the boat into the water. For the present it was necessary to wait; so Phil ate his sandwiches, and talked with those on board. And this was the scene which met the eyes of Dennis O’Rafferty as he descended to the beach.
Dennis soon understood it all. Ge saw that the schooner had been searching for the boys, and had come here in their absence, and had found this boy. He hurried, without delay, to the beach, and at once told Phil where his friends were, and explained to those on board the schooner what they were doing, and why he had come.
“An’ is the docthor on board?”
“No; he didn’t come.”
“Ah, thin it’s mesilf that’s sorry for that same,” said Dennis.
On understanding the difficulty about the boat, he at once set himself to work remedying it. He found the rollers which the boys had used, and the poles; and then, with Phil’s assistance, he began to push her down toward the water. It was far easier pushing her down than it had been pulling her up, and the boat soon reached the water’s edge.
“We lost our oar, and we were making another. I don’t know whether you can use it or not,” said Phil. “Wait here, and I’ll go and get it.”
On bringing it, Dennis found it quite rough, of course, but still capable of working the boat along. So he launched the boat, and Phil jumped in, and Dennis followed; and in a short time the boat touched the vessel’s side. The current just here was not strong, for it was half tide, and the vessel was very close to the shore. Phil was dragged on board by a dozen hands, and nearly suffocated by their rapturous greetings.
Mr. O’Rafferty then explained again where the other boys were, and invited all on board to come to his house and meet them. His invitation was eagerly complied with. Another oar was found on board, and soon Messrs. Simmons and Long, with all the boys, were on the beach.
Then they started. Phil insisted on showing the camp and the signal station, and told them all about their experience in shell-fish and lobsters.
Then they followed O’Rafferty across the island to his house.
On the way, Mr. Long told Phil all about the dismal voyage of the schooner after them. After cruising all about the Basin of Minas on the previous day, they had decided to come back to the Five Islands, and search along the shores, with the hope of finding them, or at least some traces of them. They had been watching the shore of this island so closely, that they had seen the first flash of the fire on the signal station. When they saw the red shirt by it, and then the figure climbing the tree, they knew that their search was at last successful. He made Phil tell him, over and over again, all about his own eventful escape, and shuddered to think how extreme their peril had been.
The walk over O’Rafferty’s path was a most delightful one to all. The fearful cloud, that had so long hung over them, was at last dispelled, and in their reaction from sorrow, they all felt the wildest extreme of joy. So the boys went on with shouts, and songs, and laughter, till they reached their destination.
There the others had finished their repast, and were waiting for Phil. Great was their amazement to see the crowd. At once all was explained. With a wild cry of delight, they rushed to meet their friends, and their hands were nearly shaken off by their excited comrades.
Mr. O’Rafferty then left them, and Mrs. O’Rafferty prepared a repast for the company. But first she set before Phil the good things that she had been saving for him; and, though that young gentleman had disposed of an immense quantity of sandwiches, he yet was able—thanks to his excellent appetite and vigorous constitution—to do full justice to Mrs. O’Rafferty’s tea and cream, and brown crusty bread and golden butter, and rich bacon, and mealy potatoes. Then the table was once more spread for the other guests; and they found the repast an agreeable change from the ship stores on which they had been feeding. To tell the truth, there were many among the company who were as famished, and had eaten quite as little, during the last twenty or thirty hours, as the castaways themselves.
They then strolled about the fields and along the beach, till suddenly a shout from one of the boys attracted the attention of all.
There, coming round the point, was the familiar form of the Antelope, her boat towed behind her once more; Captain Corbet, the mate, and O’Rafferty on board, and the black flag of the “B. O. W. C.” floating gloriously aloft.
“It’s been there all the time,” said Billymack. “Wasn’t it odd? Mr. Long wouldn’t let any one pull it down.”
“And all the schooners laughed at us,” said Bogud. “It was such nonsense.”
“Nonsense?” said Bart. “Far from it, Bogud. There’s good luck in that emblem. So long as it floats on the breeze, we’ll turn out all right.”
“If you call this good luck, I should like to know what bad luck is.”
Here the anchor rattled, and all the boys ran to the beach.
When the time came for them to leave, O’Rafferty was in despair. He wanted them to stay at least one night. But Mr. Long could not. They had already lost much time, and must make amends for it. They had to go that evening to Pratt’s Cove. So O’Raflerty consoled himself by extorting a promise that the next time they came to the Five Islands they would anchor off his beach, and stop at least two days with him.
Meanwhile the boys had a long debate as to what they could give to O’Raflerty. To offer money would be an insult. They had to select from among their possessions something that would be appropriate for a parting gift. Bart proposed his pistol, but it was considered as not adapted to be of use to O’Rafferty. At last it was decided to give him the hatchet. A hatchet would always be useful; and it was so pretty a little tool, that it would be in itself a graceful keepsake. So Bart, with his jackknife, cut into the handle, very, neatly, the initials of the different members of the “B. O. W. C.,” and handed the gift to the old man.
“You won’t refuse it,” said Bart, “will you, Mr. O’Rafferty?” And he explained the initial letters to him.
Tears started to the old man’s eyes.
“It’s fairly heart-broken I am to part wid ye; but I’ll take the hatchet to remember yer sweet faces by, and wid the hope that you won’t forget owld O’Rafferty. And many’s the drame I’ll be draimin’ about yes, till me owld eyes gets a look at yes again.”
“An’ may the blessin’s av Heaven go wid yes all, ye darlin’s av the worruld,” ejaculated the old woman. “It’s meself that’ll pray for yes, that the Lard ‘ll stan’ betune yes and harrum. I’ll be lookin’ out for yes all another year, jewels; an’ I’ll have such crame, chayse, an’ such maily taters, as ye never saw the like of before.”
The old couple wrung the hands of all of them, and watched them embark. Soon all were on board. Then the anchor went up, and up went the sails. The schooner started, and moved slowly away.
And as she moved away, the boys saw the old couple standing on the beach waving farewells. There they stood till the vessel rounded a promontory which shut them from sight.
They were on their way to Pratt’s Cove.