"But what shall we do?" Robert inquired; "we cannot stay here for ever."
"No; but we can remain here, or somewhere else as safe, until we better understand our case," answered Harold. "And who knows but in the meantime some vessel may pass and take us home. One passed on yesterday."
Robert mused awhile, and replied, "I believe you are right as to the propriety of our waiting. Father will certainly set all hands to work to search for us. The vessel we saw yesterday will no doubt carry to him the news of their seeing us going in a certain direction at a certain time. He will be sure to search for us somewhere in this neighbourhood; and we had better on that account not move far away."
Mary and Frank were attentive, though silent listeners to this colloquy. Mary's colour went and came with every variation in their prospect of an immediate return. She was anxious, principally, on her father's account. Her affectionate heart mourned over the distress which she knew he must then be feeling; but when she came to reflect on the uncertainty of their position, and the danger of a voyage, and also that her father had probably ere this heard of them through the cutter, she was satisfied to remain. Poor Frank cried bitterly, when he first learnt that they were not to return immediately; but his cheerful nature soon rebounded, and a few words of comfort and hope were sufficient to make him picture to himself a beautiful vessel, with his father on board, sailing into their quiet river, and come for the purpose of taking them all home.
"Before we conclude on remaining here," said Harold. "I think it will be best for us to sail around the island, if it is one, and see what sort of a place it is."
This precaution was so just that it received their immediate assent. They fixed upon the next morning as the time for their departure; and not knowing how far they should go, or how long they might stay, they concluded to take with them all that they had.
"But," inquired Mary, "what shall we do with our large fat turkey?" (a part of it only having been prepared for the table); "shall we cook it here, or carry it raw?"
"Let us cook it here," said Harold; "I will show you how to bake it, Indian fashion, without an oven."
Among the articles put up by William were a spade and a hoe. With these Harold dug a hole in the dryest part of the beach; and, at his request, Robert took Mary and Frank to the tree above, and brought down a supply of small wood. The hole was two and a-half feet deep and long, and a foot and a-half wide, looking very much like a baby's grave. Frank looked archly at his cousin, and asked if he was going to have a funeral, now that he had a grave. "Yes," replied Harold, "a merry one." The wood was cut quite short, and the hole was heaped full; and the pile being set to burning at the top, Harold said,
"There is another little piece of work to be done, which did not occur to me until digging that hole. It is to set up a signal on the beach to attract attention from sea."