"Melton birds are not bad, the others are no good, a man must be fairly on the verge of starvation to tackle them," replied Moss.
"There does not appear to be much fear of starving here," laughed Jack.
"Perhaps not, but the diet would soon become monotonous," replied Harry.
It was time to return to the schooners, as they had been absent all day, and it was not advisable to leave them for a longtime. It was tedious work running out of the bay, and rather dangerous, as the tide was much lower and here and there sharp pieces of coral stood out of the water. Had one of the boats struck on such a projection it would have speedily ripped open the bottom, or the side.
Phil Danks, however, was a careful steerer and navigated them into the open sea, the dinghy in tow having one or two narrow escapes.
When the blacks saw the boat load of turtle, they gave vent to their joy and danced about the deck.
"You'll see how they gorge themselves to-night," said Phil, "it is enough to make a man cry off turtle for ever to watch them."
"Then I propose we leave them to it," said Jack. "I do not want to spoil my appetite."
The cargo was hauled on board, and the schooners were soon under weigh, Harry Marton remaining on the "Heron" for the night.
There was very little breeze, and the movement was scarcely perceptible. It was a glorious night, the sun shining on the water and illuminating the coast line. The air was pure and cool, and as Jack Redland sat alone at the stern of the schooner, his thoughts commenced to wander to a far different scene thousands of miles away.