"My father," answered the young girl, "was an excellent swimmer. I have heard him say he once swam across the East River, New York, while a boy.
"Then again the captain informed me that, in falling overboard, it was found that my parent had carried away with him a plank, which, from carelessness, had been left hanging loosely over the stern. Now what more likely than that with the help of the plank, and this island but two miles to leeward, he should succeed in reaching it?"
Harry shook his head.
"Of course," said he, "such things have happened, but I have no idea that your father reached the island."
For several hours the two walked over the isle, which they found to be a beautiful place. There were flowers of almost every hue, clear, purling streams, rocks, caverns and cascades, while through the green shrubbery the banana and the breadfruit were visible.
The wanderers, however, came upon no traces of Mr. Manton, and Harry could see that his companion's hopes in this respect were almost extinguished.
Returning to the spot where the shelters were located, they found Turk already at work upon his boat, assisted by Brand.
"You are making good progress," remarked Harry.
"Ay, ay," answered Turk, "there's no chance for laziness, now. The sooner we leave this island the better, accordin' to my notion."
The old tar spoke solemnly.