Jack’s announcement filled all of those below with keen disappointment. They had hoped from his position in the tall palm that he would discover either that they were on a point of the mainland or that some sort of settlement was not far away.
“Gee, we’re regular Robinson Crusoes!” declared Andy, with a sigh. “What do you know about that!”
“And not a sail in sight!” murmured Fred.
“Yes, and nothing in the way of a boat to get away on,” added Randy.
“I thought it might be that way,” put in the old sailor. “We sure are in a pickle, an’ no mistake. But it’s a mighty good thing you sighted the raft an’ got them stores ashore. That food will last us quite a spell.” And then he added suddenly: “Don’t he see nothin’ of the Coryanda?”
“What about the steam yacht?” called up Fred.
“Nowhere in sight,” was Jack’s answer, after another look around.
“Then she must have gone to the bottom,” came solemnly from the lanky sailor. “I thought she was doomed.”
“Well, there’s one satisfaction,” was Andy’s comment. “If she went down, it’s good-bye to all those savage beasts and those horrible snakes.”