Chapter Fifteen.
The trio rested at the top of the peak for a couple of hours, and then started back, the doctor taking the lead again so as to vary the way of descent, and gain an acquaintance with as much of the island as was possible.
This had the effect of lengthening out the journey, for there were many detours to be made to avoid dense jungly patches through which they would have had to clear their way; so that it was getting on towards evening when, after descending slope after slope and dodging, as Carey termed it, through little maze-like valleys, they came in sight of the waving cocoanut palms beneath them, and finally passed through to reach the sands.
They were still some distance from the landing place where the raft lay, and the sand was hot, loose, and painful to walk upon; but at last the rocky natural pier was reached, the raft cut loose, and, there being a pleasant evening breeze sufficient to ripple the water, they sailed steadily across.
“Might get a fish or two for supper easy to-night, sir,” said Bostock. “I’ve got a line, sir. Shall I try?”
“No, we’ve done enough to-day,” replied the doctor. “Let’s be satisfied with what we’ve done and the provisions we have on board.”
“Right, sir,” said Bostock. “There is plenty of pickled fish.”
“I feel more like a cup of tea than anything,” replied the doctor. “It was a thirsty climb. Better take out the cartridges from your gun, Carey.”
“Mind taking mine out too, Master Carey?” said Bostock, who was steering.