There, indeed, lay the wreck of the Amazon, close to the beach, about two miles off, and sorely mauled about she was; so much so, that I greatly doubted whether Bob would ever have identified her as our old ship, had not my father’s presence, and the story we had already heard of her loss, assisted him. Her three lower-masts were still standing, but the whole of her upper works were gone, and I at first supposed that they had been used for fire-wood, until we opened up a tiny bay somewhat nearer us to the southward, and saw a small vessel in process of being built on the beach.
“You have established a ship-yard here, I see, sir,” I remarked, as this object came in view.
“Yes,” answered my father; “but we have made but poor progress, so far. You will be of the greatest assistance to us, my dear boy—you and Robert here. Since you have managed to turn out such a sweet little craft as this cutter, I shall be strongly inclined to pull our work to pieces and begin all over again.”
“How do you mean, sir?” I inquired. “You surely do not imagine that Bob and I built this cutter?”
“Did you not?” returned my father. “Then where did you pick her up?”
“She was built on the Thames,” I replied; “and Bob and I have managed to bring her out here between us.”
My father was greatly surprised at hearing this, but as we were now approaching the anchorage, it was decided to defer all explanations until we could have an opportunity of proceeding with them in a straightforward fashion. Sail was shortened, and in about ten minutes afterwards we dropped our anchor in a pretty little well-sheltered bay, within a couple of cables’ length of the beach, and in full view of a neat little cottage constructed of bamboo, which stood on a lawn of about an acre in extent, environed with beautiful tropical trees and plants.
Winter was down on the beach full of curiosity respecting the new-comers, and I will leave to the reader’s imagination the surprise and delight with which he recognised in them two of his old shipmates.
The two canoes conveyed all hands of us ashore, and my father, after welcoming us heartily to “his dominions” as we stepped from the canoes to the beach, gave his arm to Ella, and with me on his other side, and Bob and Winter following arm-in-arm astern, and the two natives bringing up the rear, we at once wended our way to the cottage, where we found that Winter had prepared a sumptuous breakfast in anticipation of our arrival.
Whilst discussing this meal, I related, at my father’s earnest solicitation, our whole story, commencing with an account of the wreck on Portland beach, and of the tale of the treasure-island told by the dying Spaniard, and then going on to relate how we had been induced, by a belief in this story, to build and fit out the Water Lily and sail in her in search of the treasure, mentioning, in due course, our meeting with the seaman who had given us a clue to the Amazon’s fate, and of our resolve, therefore, to search the whole Archipelago, if need be, for the abandoned ones; and winding up with an account of our late achievement of the destruction of the Albatross and of the consequent imprisonment of her crew, upon the island we had so recently sailed from.