George Mayfield and Harry Crandall, together with a Professor, were mates on a ship training school, which sailed from New York one year before. A terrific explosion at sea cast them adrift in mid-Pacific Ocean, and after five days of suffering they were cast ashore on an apparently uncharted island, without any food, and entirely devoid of any tools, implements or weapons.
Exercising the knowledge of the Professor, and the ingenuity of the boys, they gradually dug from mother earth and from the rocks and trees the articles necessary to sustain life, and eventually they found different ores from which various implements and weapons were made. They constructed numerous machines, crude, at first, and gradually developed them. They succeeded in capturing yaks, a bovine species of animals, some of which were trained like oxen; wagons were built; a shop constructed; a water wheel installed; a primitive sawmill put up; a primary battery made; articles of clothing woven; felt made; and numerous things of this character originated from material which nature had furnished in its crude state.
While doing all this the desire to explore the island was a predominating one. Four trips into the interior had been made in order to ascertain whether or not it contained any human beings. During those trips numerous evidences were found to show that savages were there, and some indications that civilized people had visited the island.
The peculiar happenings which excited their interest were the mysterious things that occurred at various times, among which the following may be briefly enumerated: The disappearance of a boat, which they built, and which was left at the place where the team was lost; the subsequent finding of the boat among debris on the seashore, having oars and rope in it which were strange to them; the removal of the flagpole and flag which had been erected up on a high point near the ocean, called Observation Hill, and the fire in the forest.
To the foregoing may be added the discovery of a prospecting hole, which had been dug, evidently, by some one in the hope of finding mineral; a yak with a brand on it; wreckage of a boat, which, undoubtedly, belonged to their ill-fated ship; a gruesome skeleton on the seashore; and finally one of the lifeboats of the schoolship and a companion to their own, found on the shore of the stream where they now were.
All these things were sufficient not only to cause alarm, but the greatest consternation on the part of the boys. It must be said, however, that the trials of the boys, under the calm, calculating deportment of the Professor, had done much to make them self-reliant. George, the elder, was of an exceedingly inquisitive turn of mind; he was a theorist, and tried to find out the reason for everything. On the other hand, Harry was practical in all his efforts; he could take the knowledge obtained and profit by it, as the previous volumes show. It was fortunate, therefore, as the Professor put it, that theory and practice were personified in the two boys, who, although companionable, were the exact opposites as types.
The Professor never showed a preference, in any manner, for either. Like the true philosopher he saw the value of the two distinct qualities, the one useless without the other.
When they had fully recovered from their astonishment, George was the first to speak. "They may have broken the fastenings."
The Professor, who had been intently examining the tree to which they were hitched, said: "I can find no evidence of any undue wrench which might show that they had gotten away by their own exertions. Let us see whether we can follow the trail."
The ground was covered with leaves, so that no earth was visible, and the only sort of trail left in a forest, under those conditions, is the slightly depressed tracks which the wheels make. They examined this, noting also the overturned leaves, which are usually left in the wake of cattle.