“I hope we shall have a chance to rescue the prisoners they are still holding,” said Archie. “It must be dreadful to pass one’s life here among these heathen. The worst part of such a captivity to me would be the knowledge that every now and then friends came here who would be only too willing to take me off if I could only get to them. I wish there were enough of us to take the island.”
Probably the prisoners who were still in the hands of the natives wished the same thing. Perhaps, too, they had some hopes of rescue when they heard the roar of the thirty-pounder awaking the echoes among the hills. But the schooner’s company was in no situation to render them assistance, and the Club were now as near the island as they ever went. While they were at supper, the officer of the deck suddenly descended the companion-ladder and interrupted the lively conversation that was going on by asking the captain if he would come on deck a minute. Uncle Dick went, and had hardly disappeared before the boys heard the boatswain’s whistle, followed by the order: “All hands stand by to get the ship under way.”
With one accord the Club dropped their knives and forks and ran up the ladder to see what was the occasion of the order; some of them being in such a hurry that they did not stop to find their caps.
“Master Frank,” said Dick Lewis, who met his young friend at the top of the ladder, “is that a quid out thar? Is that ole whale comin’ to ax the cap’n what he’s done with her baby?”
The trapper pointed seaward, and Frank, looking in the direction indicated by his finger, saw a dark cloud rising rapidly in the horizon, and beneath it a long line of foam and a dense bank of mist that was moving toward the island.
“Rodgers says we’re done for now,” continued Dick, whose face was white as a sheet. “He says me and Bob never seed a whale yet, but will see one now; that is, if we have a chance to see anything afore she opens her mouth and sends us to—, to—; what sort of a place did he say that was, Bob?” inquired Dick, turning to his frightened companion, who stood close beside him.
“I don’t know; somebody’s cupboard,” replied Bob.
“Davy Jones’s locker, most likely,” explained Frank. “Now, Dick, when Rodgers or anyone else, says such a thing to you again, you just tell him that you know better. We’re going to have a blow, that’s all. You have seen enough of them among the mountains and on the prairies to know what they are.”
“But, whar be we goin’?” asked Dick, seeing that the Stranger was walking rapidly up to her anchor.
“We’re going out, of course.”