"I quite envy you that delightful experience," asserted Madeline.
"Don't," said Sybil. "The adventure wasn't all pleasant, by any means. The hoots of those dreadful birds will ring in my ears for years to come; the food was far from satisfying and I piled rocks and tramped and sweated until I was worn to a frazzle. If we had not invented our checker set I believe we would have become raving maniacs by the time you found us."
As they drew near to the island they found it even more green and beautiful than they had suspected.
"It's queer," said Steve, eyeing the place thoughtfully, "how very imperfect those seamen's charts are. The one Captain Krell has indicates nothing but barren rocks in these seas. Not one is deemed important enough to name; yet here is a good-sized island that is really inviting enough to attract inhabitants."
"And, by Jove, it has 'em!" cried Chesty Todd, pointing eagerly to a thin streak leading skyward. "See that smoke? That means human beings, or I'm a lobster."
"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Cumberford. "That interests me; it does, really. Head around to the right, Steve; that's where we'll find the natives."
Steve obeyed. Skirting the shore of the island he rounded the northern point and found before him a peculiar inlet. The shore was rocky and rather high, but in one place two great pillars of rock rose some fifty feet in the air, while between them lay a pretty bay which extended far inland. They afterward found this was the mouth of a small river, which broadened into a bay at its outlet.
As the launch turned into this stretch of water, moving at reduced speed, their eyes were gladdened by one of the loveliest natural vistas they had ever beheld. The slope from the table-land above to the inlet was covered upon both sides with palms, flowering shrubs and fruit trees, all of which showed evidence of care. A quarter of a mile up the little bay was a little dock to which were moored several boats. The largest of these was a sixty-foot launch, which made Madeline's little craft look like a baby. Two sailboats and a trio of rowboats, all rather crude in design, completed the flotilla. On the end of the dock two men stood, motionless, as if awaiting them.
"Why, they're not natives at all," exclaimed Sybil, in a low voice. "They—they're clothed!"
So they were, but in quite a remarkable fashion. Their feet were bare, their trousers ragged and soiled; but they wore blue vests highly embroidered in yellow silk, with velvet jackets and red sashes tied around their waists. Add to this outfit, peaked Panama hats with broad, curling brims, and a revolver and knife stuck in each sash, and you will not wonder that our friends viewed this odd couple with unfeigned amazement.