In this he was mistaken. It was scarcely the beginning of what was to prove a thrilling adventure. “The North Star!” he exclaimed suddenly. “She was tied to the dock. What will happen to her?”
Since the girl did not know the answer, she did not reply.
A moment later, the Carib crept up the bank of the pit to disappear into the storm. Ten minutes later, when he reappeared, his jacket was filled with cocoanuts.
“Food and drink,” smiled Madge. “We shall not fare so badly in our cave, after all.”
Still the wind raged on. Rain came and with it night.
A great flat boulder, turned half over by the uprooted tree, left a sort of narrow grotto with a stone floor. By crowding well back into this grotto, Johnny and the girl were able to escape the terrific downpour of rain. The Carib, who minded a wetting about as much as a duck, sat chuckling to himself beneath the tree’s great roots.
For a time the girl and the boy talked of many things, of their homes, of their native lands, of strange customs and stranger laws, of the sea and of the land.
The conversation turned to chicle gathering. Then it was that Johnny told of his friend Pant, how he had found his long lost grandfather and how they were, beyond doubt, at that very moment gathering chicle in the forest around Rio de Grande.
“The Rio de Grande!” exclaimed the girl. “Diaz gathers chicle there. He will stop them if he can.”
“Diaz!” came from Johnny. “He has a hand in everything down here!”