"Well, I'm beginning to feel quite to home," remarked the captain, who could be cheerful under misfortune. His good spirits should have been a lesson to Mr. Tarbill. That gentleman had lost nothing but what could be easily replaced, but the captain had lost his fine ship. Still he did not complain, and Bob, seeing his demeanor under trying circumstances, resolved to try and be like the stanch mariner.
After breakfast Captain Spark looked carefully over the gig to see if the craft was seaworthy. He decided that it was, and he sent Tim to look about for a suitable small tree to be cut down as a mast for the sail.
"Are you going to sail away?" asked Mr. Tarbill nervously.
"I don't know. I want to be all ready to do so in case we find it necessary. This noon I will work out our position and locate this island on the chart. Then I can determine how far it is to the nearest mainland, or to a larger island."
"I'll never go in a small boat on this big ocean," declared Mr.
Tarbill.
Captain Spark, who had completed his examination of the gig, was standing near it, idly gazing off across the waste of water, which had greatly subsided since the storm, when he caught sight of some small object about two miles off shore.
"Bob!" he called, "bring me the binoculars," for a pair of marine glasses had been found in one of the lockers.
The captain gazed through the glasses for several seconds. Then he cried out:
"More arrivals! Prepare for company, Bob!"
"Who, captain?"