“Well, then, we will not wake him,” said the captain. “It is so intensely dark that we shall have difficulty in getting him home, and it can’t be very long to-day.”
It was longer than the captain thought, but he sat chatting about how busy they had been setting up the second hut and improving the first, besides making preparations for their home becoming permanent.
“The ship will supply us with endless useful things,” he said, “even if much of the cargo is burned. This man has again proved himself a treasure, Mark, for it might have been a long time before we had explored far enough to enable us to find the hull.”
“When shall you go to see it, father?” asked Mark.
“To-day, my boy. We’ll get back to camp and have a good breakfast and then start. By the way, the major says you have got some capital birds.”
“Eight, and they are bigger than fowls. Curious-looking things, with a sort of helmet on their heads.”
“I think I know them,” said the captain, “a sort of brush-turkey, I expect, the maleo birds I think they are called, and they are splendid eating. I don’t think we shall starve, my lad.”
“Day!” said Mark eagerly, pointing to a faint gleam away to his right.
“Yes; the first touch of dawn. I think we may prepare to go now. Get together the birds, my lads.”
Widgeon and Small obeyed, finding them already tied, and slinging them over their shoulders.