Dick Leslie's Luck: A Story of Shipwreck and Adventure

by Harry Collingwood

The careful and systematic inspection of the entire length of beach consumed an hour, and was without result; no human footprints were anywhere to be seen; and Leslie was confident that if any person had walked upon that sand within the week, he would have left plain indications behind him, for the wind throughout that time had been too gentle to obliterate marks of any kind, as was evidenced by the fact that the footprints of birds were everywhere clearly distinguishable. Once, indeed, he thought he had found what he sought; but upon closer inspection the signs proved to be the track of a turtle that had come up on the sand to lay her eggs, as was evidenced by the fact that the eggs themselves were found, and a few of them appropriated.

Although his investigation thus far was reassuring, Leslie was not yet by any means satisfied. He wished to obtain a much clearer idea than he yet possessed of the actual extent and general shape of his island; and the only way by which this was to be accomplished, and at the same time a general survey of it effected, was to ascend to the summit of the mountain. This promised to be a decidedly arduous task, in that climate, especially as they had been cooped up for so long a time within the narrow confines of a small vessel, with very limited space for taking exercise. But he determined nevertheless to attempt it, feeling that he could never be perfectly easy in his mind until he had done so, and they accordingly set out forthwith on their way.

Path, of course, there was none; but this was of little moment, for they knew that so long as they continued to ascend every step took them so much nearer to the summit; and they were agreeably surprised to find that the bush and undergrowth that, at a distance, had appeared to be absolutely impenetrable, was not nearly so dense as it had looked. They were consequently enabled, by adopting a somewhat serpentine route, to make very fair upward progress, although they occasionally encountered spots where a passage had to be forced, and where Flora’s dainty white costume suffered somewhat.

They had not gone very far upon their way before Leslie discovered, to his great relief and satisfaction, that they certainly need have no fear of starvation, even in the event of their being doomed to remain where they were for the rest of their lives. For, as they went, fruit-bearing trees of many kinds were found in great profusion, growing luxuriantly, and many of them loaded with most luscious fruit. Mangoes, bananas, plantains, limes, custard-apples, and bread-fruit were among the varieties that Leslie recognised; and there were many others with which he was unfamiliar, and which he therefore regarded with more or less suspicion. They saw no signs of animals of any kind; but the forest seemed

to be alive with birds, the extraordinary tameness—or rather fearlessness—of which seemed to argue an unfamiliarity with man.

Two hours of arduous climbing brought the adventurers to a most romantic spot, where a small stream of deliciously pure and cold fresh water gushed out from under a huge overhanging moss-grown rock, the banks of the rivulet being clothed with ferns of the most lovely and delicate varieties, while the surrounding sward was gay with flowers of strange forms and most exquisitely delicate and beautiful combinations of colouring. A huge tree, bearing large blossoms of vivid scarlet instead of leaves—which Leslie identified as the “bois-immortelle”—overhung the spot; and as the pair were by this time feeling somewhat tired and hungry, they seated themselves upon the yielding sward, and Leslie surrendering the lunch-basket to Flora, the latter spread the cloth on the grass and set out as dainty and enticing a luncheon as, supplemented by the fruit with which Leslie had filled his pockets, two hungry people need ever desire to find before them.

A narrow vista through the trees afforded the travellers a glimpse of the sea stretching blue and foam-flecked below them and right out to the horizon; and as Leslie judged from this glimpse that they must have accomplished considerably more than half their climb, the pair lingered for some time over their meal, resting their tired limbs and enjoying the loveliness of their surroundings. Then, after an interval of about an hour and a half, they again proceeded on their way, making better progress now than they did at first, as the undergrowth and trees became from this point steadily thinner as they progressed, until at length they were able to catch occasional glimpses of the summit for which they were aiming. Finally they emerged from the bush altogether, to find themselves breasting a steep slope, the soil of which was composed of fine scoriae and ashes.

“Just as I anticipated,” ejaculated Leslie, as he stooped to examine the ground. “This island is volcanic; and yonder peak—the top of which, you will notice, appears to have been broken off—is the crater. But do not be alarmed,” he continued, seeing a startled expression leap into his companion’s eyes, “the volcano is undoubtedly extinct, and has probably been so for ages; for if you will but look around you at all this vegetation you will notice that it bears no remotest sign or indication of ever having been disturbed by volcanic action. I am not botanist enough to be able to judge the ages of those trees that we see below us; but thousands of them must be considerably more than half a century old; and as it is evident that no eruption has taken place since they started to grow, I think we may rest satisfied that no disturbance is in the least likely to occur during our occupation of the place. But let us push on; it is nearly one o’clock, and I am anxious to get up there to have a good look round and make a complete survey of our dominions.”

They accordingly resumed their climb; and after a further three-quarters of an hour of arduous labour—the steepness of the acclivity and the looseness of the soil rendering progress exceedingly slow and difficult—they finally reached their goal, to find themselves standing, as it were, upon the rim of a huge basin about a third of a mile in diameter and some three hundred feet deep, the inner sides sloping almost perpendicularly, and the bottom forming a small lake. The perfectly bare sides were much too steep and the soil altogether too loose and treacherous to render an attempt at descent advisable, even had they wished it—which they did not—it sufficed Leslie that the whole appearance of the place confirmed his previous conviction that the volcano was extinct; and without wasting a second glance upon it he at once turned his attention to the scene beneath him.