CHAPTER XVII.
STRANGE LIFE ON THE BEAUTIFUL ISLAND.
TOM TALISKER knew nothing for some time after this of the terrible tragedy that had taken place on the island. The place had once been a small penal settlement for political prisoners from Ecuador, the governor himself a suspect; but the men had revolted and slain both him and his family, and escaping on a raft or boat had gone no one knew whither, though in all probability to the bottom of the sea.
Such things as men landing from a passing ship, to rob and mayhap murder a few inhabitants of a lonely island, have happened many times and oft, and might happen again, Tom thought. He was determined, therefore, to be prepared. So he built a little outlook, well screened with trees, on the top of one of the highest hills, and here he or Brandy could go every morning to reconnoitre, with the aid of the telescope they had brought with them. They could from this vantage ground see passing ships, and if possible signal to them by smoke or otherwise; but if men came on shore who looked like cut-throats, it would be easy for them to hide in the forest.
The finding of the skeletons and their burial in the orange grove did not tend to raise the spirits of our hero; but as to Ginger Brandy, nothing on earth was calculated to depress that boy long. More than once next day, while they were busily engaged building their new hut not far from the ruins of the old settlement, though nearer to the orange grove, Brandy told Tom he was glad they had been cast away here, and that for his part he would be sorry if any ship found them and brought them away.
The building of the new villa, as they called it, was a work of time as well as art. First and foremost they had to transport all their stores to a tent of bamboo and plaintain leaves which they erected near the old settlement. This necessitated a great many journeys back and fore to the coast; and when night came at last, and they could no longer work, both were so tired that they fell sound asleep after supper, and did not awake until well into the morning.
Some cattle were browsing near, but they fled in wild alarm as soon as they saw human beings. One immense red-eyed fierce-looking bull at first showed fight, but finally retreated slowly towards the other end of the plain, growling ominously as he did so, and giving Tom clearly to understand that his presence here was an intrusion that he should one day resent. This bull had evidently been monarch of all he surveyed before Tom’s arrival, and now to be deposed was hard indeed to bear.
But how labour lightens the mind. Both Tom and his dusky companion were singing and laughing all day long as they worked away at the building of the villa.
It really was no child’s play, however, which they had taken in hand. All the uprights and transverse beams, the couples, &c., had to be made of trees cut down in the woods, and borne on the shoulders to the site they had chosen. Here they had to be deprived of their bark, for Tom knew better than leave any shelter in his house for venomous creepie-creepies. While he would be engaged at this bark-stripping Brandy would be busy cooking the one great meal of the day, namely, supper, which they discussed together by the camp fire and under the stars.
It took them three whole weeks to complete the building of the house, but when it was at last finished they had good cause indeed to be proud of their handiwork. It was certainly of no great size, nor was it of very showy pretentions. The couples that supported the grass roof came right down to the ground, as they had no iron nails big enough to affix it to the top of the plank walls. A couple of axes, a good saw, some hammers and chisels, were all the tools they possessed, and the nails had to be made of hard wood, the holes to receive them being bored by means of a piece of red-hot iron.
All their energies and all their ingenuity too was therefore taxed to make a complete job of this rustic dwelling.