“Faytan!” cried Bry, and covered his face with his hands.
“Faytan!” echoed Nux; but he frowned and said nothing more.
The other boats had followed our lead and, heavily laden though they were, managed to round the point. Within half an hour we had run all three boats upon the tiny beach, pulled them out of reach of the sea, and stood wet and despondent in a dismal group upon this unknown isle.
CHAPTER VII
THE PEARL PEOPLE
“This is a terrible experience,” said De Jiminez in a gloomy voice. “A nation’s fate has been decided by a South Sea typhoon!”
“All is not lost,” replied Little Jim, attempting to console him. “The ship is high on the rocks yonder, and all the arms and ammunition may yet be saved. Perhaps the natives of this island are civilized and friendly, and will care for us until we can find another ship to take us to Colombia.”
His father shook his head disconsolately.
“I doubt if any people at all live on these rocks,” he said. “The place seems absolutely barren.”
“Why, there is a grove of big trees a quarter of a mile back,” declared Alfonso, “and the island is surely big enough to support many inhabitants. Wherever there are trees we are likely to find fields of grain and fruits. Come; let us go inland and explore the place.”
During this conversation the three women had huddled under their wet cloaks, terrified and trembling. To them this adventure was a dreadful thing. To be shipwrecked upon a barren island is not wholly unknown to mankind but may well be regarded at all times with foreboding and horror.