All this while a sharp lookout had been kept for passing vessels, but, though once or twice smoke from steamers, hull down on the horizon, had been seen, none approached the island, and the tattered signals fluttered desolately in the wind. But Dick and his marooned chums were too busy to give up hope.
"If we only had more food I wouldn't worry so much," said the young millionaire, the night before they were to start off on the raft. "Our supply is getting lower, and, though we can take along a lot of clams, and maybe catch some fish, it's going to be mighty small eating for a while, fellows."
"I had pretty good luck catching fish to-day," announced Beeby. "Maybe we can get a lot and smoke 'em!"
"The very thing!" cried Dick. "We'll wait another day, and take along a supply of smoked fish."
They crawled into the bower that night, and stretched out on beds of dry seaweed, wondering and fearing what the morrow would bring forth.
CHAPTER XXIX THE RESCUE
With soft clams for bait, Paul Drew and Tim Muldoon made up the fishing party next day, while Dick, Henry and Widdy, aided by the two Cubans, put the finishing touches on the raft. Beeby went off with his camera, which he had brought to the island. He said he wanted to get some last views of the place where they had been marooned.
The fishing, which was done off some rocks that jutted out from shore, was good, and soon the two youths had a fine supply. The old sailor cleaned them, and then, laid on a network of sticks, over a slow fire, the fish were smoked, to preserve them for use as food when the voyage of the raft should have been started.