“I suppose he thought we would never come back; that the voudoos were sure to catch us. We must ask him how it is he feels secure now, when a short time ago he was confident we should not live to get home again.”
“He has probably conjured up some kind of a charm,” the mate replied, as he leaped aboard the yacht, painter in hand, and at that instant the cook disappeared very suddenly.
Captain Mansfield was taking his ease under the awning aft when the boys came over the rail, and from the expression on their faces he knew the forenoon’s work had produced no satisfactory results.
“Treasure-hunting in such a climate isn’t what it is cracked up to be, eh?” he cried.
“We haven’t found what we wanted yet, but we may be more successful to-morrow,” Gil said, just a trifle sheepishly.
“Take your time about it, but let me know when you begin to grow discouraged, for this isn’t the safest anchorage I have seen, in case the wind comes from any northerly quarter.”
It really seemed as if Mr. Jenkins had been seized with an attack of the treasure-hunting fever, for, without waiting to eat dinner, which was already prepared, he produced his glass and began searching the thicket.
“Are you looking for an old tree?” Nelse asked.
“Yes; we may as well get our bearings at once, and save just so much time to-morrow morning.”
“Do you see any?”