“She’s gone! They didn’t even notice us!” exclaimed Fred, and his voice had something of tears in it.
All were downcast, and it was some time before they could get back to a more optimistic frame of mind.
“They should have seen the smoke, even if they couldn’t see us waving the sailcloth,” said Randy, bitterly.
“Well, if they saw the smoke, they might have thought it was from a fire built by some of the natives,” answered Jack. “If I was sailing among a great bunch of islands like the West Indies, I wouldn’t want to stop to investigate every pillar of smoke I saw.”
“If we only had a regular flag, then we could hoist it up in one of the trees. If we placed it upside down, that would be sure to attract attention sooner or later.”
“Yes; but we haven’t a flag, so we’ve got to do without it,” said Andy, who was now rubbing his hurt ankle in an endeavor to limber it up.
Another day passed, and by this time the boys felt a little more at home on the island. A few hours of fishing had sufficed to bring in a goodly mess, and while some of these were eaten, the others were placed in a pool where they might be drawn upon whenever necessary. The boys had also made a hunt for oysters, and while they had found a few of the bivalves, they were not of a particularly good variety, and no one cared for them except the old tar.
“Some day I’m goin’ to make myself a good, big stew of ’em,” said Ira Small. “I always did like a stew made of oysters caught on the spot.”
Now that he could rest whenever he desired, the lanky sailor recovered rapidly, so that in a couple of days he was able to hobble around with the aid of a cane which Jack cut for him. A great friendship had sprung up between the young major and the old tar.
“I ain’t forgot how you saved me from goin’ down to Davy Jones’ Locker,” the old sailor said more than once. “An’ don’t you forgit what I said about that pirates’ gold. If I lay hands on it, you git your full share.”