“We may rightly acknowledge that; but what has become of the other boats and the old barkey?” said Tom.
Chapter Two.
Land—Bury the boat—Take shelter under a rock—The hurricane rages—The night passes by—Desmond shoots at a wild beast—Storm abates—No ship—Boat missing—Boat discovered—Tim’s pork chops—Digging out the boat—Pat charged by a wild boar—Flag-staff set up—No ship appears—A hut built—Explore the island—Miss the hogs, but kill some birds—Preparations for the voyage—Turtle—Billy’s exploit—Leaky condition of the boat—Search for pitch—Tom and Desmond set out to explore the island.
Tom steered the boat up the bay towards the beach they had so lately left. It no longer afforded an easy landing place, for the waves came rolling in, even through the narrow entrance, creating a surf on the sandy shore, and scarcely had her stern touched the beach than a sea burst on board, not only wetting every one through, but nearly washing several articles out of her. All hands therefore jumped out.
“Now, lads, a long pull, a strong pull, and a pull all together,” cried Tim. In another minute the boat was hauled up the beach, and they began taking out the things and carrying them to the spot where they had left their fire burning. Fortunately, the muskets and ammunition, though wet, had been saved, as had the articles of value in the boat, together with a compass which Tom had thoughtfully brought, although they had hitherto had no use for it. The ashes of their fire were still alight, but they at once found that the exposed beach was not the spot where they would exactly wish to encamp.
“We must find some sheltered place, where we can put up our tent,” said Tom to Desmond. “A high overhanging rock would suit us best, but it won’t do to be under these tall mahogany trees, which may at any moment crash down upon our heads, and we have already had a specimen of how they are likely to behave.”
“I’d rather get into a snug cavern, if we can discover one,” said Desmond. “But how is that to be found in the dark?”
“I’ll soon twist up a couple of torches such as I used to make when I was Prime Minister of the Cannibal Islands,” cried Pat Casey. “I think we could find our way to the left, where I saw some big rocks this morning, and I should not be surprised to find tolerable shelter under them.”