The three on-lookers felt an infinite compassion for the unfortunate outcast; and although he had been, by his own showing, a party to the most dreadful atrocities, yet Roger and the seamen felt that it was not for them to judge him. They recognised that he had never been a willing participator in the horrors he had described, and in their opinion he had fully expiated his offences by the suffering and agony of remorse which he had endured on the sand-bank. Roger tenderly supported the emaciated frame in his arms, and tried to coax some food down the sick man’s throat; but he weakly pushed away the hands of the would-be benefactor, and, the light of reason presently returning to his eye, he said he could eat nothing, but pleaded for a draught of water. This was at once given him, and, seeing that the man was too weak to swallow anything solid, Roger ceased to persuade him. In a few minutes the poor fellow was again sunk in a profound stupor. As no more could be done for him, the others turned their attention to their own meal, and, being ravenously hungry, did full justice to the food before them, averring that they had never in the whole course of their lives tasted anything half so enjoyable, thus conclusively proving the truth of the statement that “hunger is the very best sauce.”
Having at length satisfied their appetites, it was considered quite time to go and wait for Mistress Turtle to make her appearance. So away they went, and, the distance not being great, they soon arrived at the spot, where, sure enough, they saw a fine large turtle. They had been none too cautious in their manner of approach, as they hardly anticipated finding her there so soon, if at all; and, directly they appeared over the ledge of rock, away she went as fast as she could for the sea. But Roger, who was a very fast runner, soon got in front of her and headed her off; and a few seconds later the men came up, when their united efforts were sufficient to turn her over on her back, after which she was safe. Bevan then drew his knife and cut off the head, which was thrown away; and then, making fast a rope which they had brought with them to one of the fins, they dragged the carcass off, and at length got it to the hut. They then started to cut it up, one of the fins being at once dropped into the pot and stood on the fire to make soup, that the sick man might have something more nourishing than water to drink. Then they put away as much as would keep fresh until they had used it, and the remainder they hung out in the sun to dry, after cutting the flesh into strips, thus ensuring for themselves a plentiful supply of meat for some time to come. They all now felt somewhat more comfortable in their minds, for they were certain that with the fish they hoped to catch, and an occasional turtle or two, with a further possibility of eggs now and then, and, above all, a plentiful supply of water, they would be able to hold out until the fleet came back to take them off their temporary prison.
Having removed every particle of flesh from the shell, Irwin signified his intention of taking the latter down to the water’s edge to clean it thoroughly, as it would then afford a very handy and useful receptacle for water, and it would be further very useful as a bath; for it was highly dangerous to attempt bathing in the sea, the likelihood being that the adventurous swimmer would be snapped up by some voracious shark before he had been a minute in the water. He therefore went off, dragging the shell after him, while Bevan returned to the turtle’s nest for the remainder of the eggs, and Roger busied himself with the simmering turtle soup, also taking a few strips of the meat and impaling them on pieces of wood in readiness for the next meal. Having performed this part of his duty he strolled away down to the beach to watch Jake clean the turtle’s shell. As he came in sight of the beach, what was his surprise to see Jake Irwin in the water up to his arm-pits, reaching out as though endeavouring to get hold of some object just beyond him. The man did not see Roger, and continued his strange antics; but presently he got hold of what he was after, which had the appearance of a small keg that seemed to be about as much as he could conveniently carry. He then turned round and began to make his way ashore again, carrying his prize with him. He glanced up, saw Roger, and shouted: “I have something here, Master Trevose, which will be very valuable to us if it is what I believe it to be.” He soon waded out and flung down a small barrel on the sand at his feet.
“Why,” said Roger, “what is that? It is a barrel of some sort, as, of course, I can see; but what do you suppose its contents to be?”
“Well,” responded the sailor, “as I was getting water to clean the shell, I saw some object washed up and then taken out again by the undertow; so I determined to get hold of it if possible; and next time it rolled in I made a grab at it, but missed it; then I ran out after it, and, after making several attempts, managed to get a hold of it, and brought it ashore; and here it is. And I think it valuable because it looks to me like one of the ship’s spirit-casks. It may be brandy, and if the brandy has not been spoiled by the salt water getting at it, it will be a great blessing to that sick man Evans, and may even save his life. And it may save ours too, if we get taken ill; for there is no knowing when the fleet will be here again.”
“Very true,” responded Roger. “I do not believe that the skipper will give up looking for us while his ships hold together; but, as you say, it may be a long time before we are rescued, so it is as well to secure everything we can lay our hands on. Meanwhile, let us take the barrel up to the huts and open it, and see if the contents are what we hope them to be, and whether they have been reached by the sea-water, and spoiled, or not.”
Then, each taking an end of the barrel—which was one of those small casks called breakers, holding about twelve to fourteen gallons, and therefore very weighty,—they carried it up to the hut, where they found Bevan just returned with the remainder of the turtle’s eggs. Irwin at once set to work to remove the bung of the cask, while Roger went into the hut and fetched out the only small vessel belonging to the little community, a wooden mug capable of holding somewhere about a pint and a half.
A few moments more and Irwin said: “Ready, Master Trevose?”
“Yes,” replied the lad.
“Then, here you are, sir.”