Every one was in high spirits and Captain Edwards felt confident that even if he could not fill up he could secure enough oil to meet the expenses of the cruise when he reached the West Indian grounds. Once more, however, ill luck seemed to be with the Hector. For week after week she cruised about, with lookouts constantly at the mastheads, but never the welcome “There she blows!” sounded from aloft, and once again the men began to grumble and the skipper lost his smile and jollity.
“Guess it’s no use, Mr. Potter,” he announced one day. “Might as well give up. We’re just wasting time and money here,—must be I’m getting too old for a-whaling.”
Faint upon the distant horizon, shimmered a small island, and putting his glasses to his eyes the captain studied it intently for a time.
“I expect we’d better run over to Monita yonder,” he remarked, half to himself. “There’s good water there and coconuts. Might as well fill the casks and let the men stretch their legs ashore before squaring away for Gay Head.”
At his direction, the helmsman spun the wheel a few spokes, the bark’s head swung towards the island and the boys, elated at thoughts of going ashore, gazed with interest at the little speck of sea-girt land as the bark rapidly bore down upon it. Soon the nodding palms upon the shores were visible, the boys could see the rich, green growth upon the low hills; upon the beach of coral sand they could see the slender thread of white foam and near one end they made out a small stream flowing across the beach to the sea. Never, they thought, had they seen such a beautiful spot as this little West Indian island. They were fascinated by the wondrous blue and turquoise of the sea. The fact that it was uninhabited thrilled them with the boyish love of desert islands, and they were crazy with impatience to get ashore and explore the land beyond the wave-worn rocks that bounded the beach at either end.
Half a mile from the shore, the bark came to anchor, and as the boat was lowered and the boys dropped into it, they uttered cries of wonder and delight at the marvelous scene which met their eyes as they looked over the boat’s side. Through the crystal-clear water the bottom, five fathoms below, was as plain as though they were looking through air. Half buried in the sand, was the bark’s great anchor with its trailing cable; huge starfish and sponges of every hue dotted the ocean’s floor; big purple and violet sea-fans waved gently to an unseen current and about the many-colored masses of coral, gay-hued fish swam to and fro like submarine butterflies.
As the boat grated upon the snowy sand beach, the boys leaped ashore, and yelling like Indians with the sheer joy of the feel of land under their feet they raced up the beach. While some of the men rolled the water casks to the edge of the stream, others proceeded to gather coconuts, while Cap’n Pem seated himself under the shade of a spreading tree, and lighting his pipe lay back upon the soft, warm sand.
Intent upon exploration, the two boys hurried along the beach to the outjutting rocks—stopping now and then to examine some odd specimen of marine life cast up by the sea—and scrambling over the sharp limestone, they found themselves at a little semicircular cove bordered by a second beach.
A few yards from them, a large, irregular grayish object was bobbing about at the edge of the water and thinking it some strange fish or animal, the boys hurried to it. Much to their surprise, they found it to be a mass of curious, porous material unlike anything they had ever seen.
“It looks like pumice-stone,” commented Tom. “But there isn’t any volcano here.”