CHAPTER XXII: FOOTPRINTS ON THE SAND.
From the galley and store-rooms he collected a good stock of provisions and such utensils as he thought he was likely to need. For the boy had come to a hasty conclusion that he would take up quarters on Skull Island for the present, at any rate. He knew that whalers and sealers sometimes touched there, and he might stand a chance of being rescued if he remained there instead of venturing, in a flimsy dory, on unknown seas.
But when he had the dory all loaded a difficulty he had not thought of in his haste presented itself.
How was he to launch it?
This problem bothered him not a little for some time. But at last he solved it. At each end of the dory was a “becket� or loop of rope. Raynor unfastened the throat halyards of the mainsail and hooked them into these loops. Then it was an easy matter to hoist the dory aloft by the aid of block and tackle. The Polly Ann had heeled so far over by this time, that once the dory was in the air, it swung out over the water, to which Raynor quickly lowered it.
Then he dropped over the side and on board his little craft.
“Good-bye, old Polly Ann,� he exclaimed, as he took up the oars and began rowing through the drifting ice for the shore of Skull Island. “You saved my life, but even so I can’t say I’ve any particular love for you.�
With this exordium he set to work at his rowing in earnest. It was hard work but at last he grounded his boat on a strip of sandy beach.
“Welcome to Skull Island,� he said to himself, “Let’s hope our stay here will be a short one.�
He dragged the boat up as far as he could on the beach, and then unloaded his various goods. They made quite a pile.
“I’m a regular Arctic Robinson Crusoe,� he exclaimed, half aloud.
He had hardly made the remark when he started violently. His resemblance to Robinson Crusoe was even closer than he had thought.
On the close-packed sand of the beach were the footprints of a man!
There was somebody else on the island then. For a minute he half suspected that one of the landing party, who had come ashore for water, might have made the tracks. But this solution of the matter was negatived by the fact that they had landed on the other side of the island, and had been too busy to roam about.
Who could this man be? Captain Carson had told him the island was uninhabited. Certainly nobody with the landing party had noticed any human being on it or they would have been sure to have mentioned it.
Raynor began to feel uncomfortable. He had no weapon, and the strange man might be hostile. Certainly he must be an out of the ordinary individual to live on such a forsaken island. And why had he not appeared when the schooner anchored?
“Maybe he is some desperate criminal hiding here from the law,� mused Raynor. “In that case my life will be in danger.�
He traced the footsteps till they became lost in loose sand. But as nearly as he could judge, the man had walked along the beach, and then turned inland.
Raynor felt badly shaken by his discovery. It was not pleasant to contemplate sharing an island with a man who might prove a dangerous enemy. However, there was no help for it, The Polly Ann was sinking and the island was his only refuge.
He looked about him. Back of the beach the island shores sloped upward abruptly, shutting out any view of the interior. Gnarled shrubs and bushes grew among the rocks. They were twisted into all sorts of grotesque shapes by the rigors of the Arctic winds. From the beach he could see the hull of the ill-fated Polly Ann.
The schooner had canted over more but did not appear to have sunk any lower in the water. “If only she’d keep afloat I’d go right back to her,� muttered Raynor.
He fell to examining the footmarks again. They were very large and made with heavy, clumsy boots to judge by their appearance.
“The man who made these tracks must be a big fellow, more than a match for me in physical strength,� reflected Raynor.
He decided not to penetrate into the interior of the island but to set up a camp where he had landed, at all events, for the present. He had a half formed plan in his mind, too, of rowing out to the Polly Ann and getting more provisions before she finally sank. He had brought some canvas along to make a tent and he constructed quite a snug shelter by turning the boat upside down and supporting it on stones. This made a water-tight roof over which he threw the canvas. Next he collected wood and built a fire. It was not till that moment that he recollected that he would have to go to the other side of the island for water.
He did not much like the task. He might encounter the man of the island and be attacked by him. Still he thought an encounter was bound to occur before long, if he remained. So, cutting a stout club from the bushes, and taking up a bucket he had brought, he set out for the spring.
By this time it was growing dusk, so much longer than he realized had his preparations taken him. He started off, walking briskly, and had almost reached the part of the island where he knew the spring was located, when he gave a violent start.
Ahead of him, standing on a rock as if gazing at something, was the figure of a man!