CHAPTER XI.—THE CAVE OF THE PEARLS.
Two days later, following the arrival at the island of the coal ship—a small, rusty tramp steamer—the boys set out for the village to meet their friends, who had swum out to the ship almost daily, despite the sharks, to see the white youths. As they left the yacht they saw Thurman, who had been put to work in the crew, laboring with the other blackened “hands” at getting the fuel on board.
“He doesn’t look as if he liked his job much,” said Jack.
“He ought to be glad he’s alive,” supplemented Billy Raynor. “I wonder if he has really mended his ways or if it was just the effect of his scare that made him promise to reform.”
“Impossible to say,” replied Jack, “but time will show, I guess.”
The boys found their friends on the beach with a long, cranky-looking canoe, paddled with wonderfully carved paddles. In the canoe were bananas, roast pork and other delicacies; also several empty cocoanut shells.
“What are those for?” asked Jack, looking at the latter.
“We put um pearl in them if so be we get any,” grinned Anai.
“Do you really think we’ll get any?” asked Billy.
“No can say. Think cave good place. You ready?”