The Castaways of the Flag (11 page)

           
It was a
trifling disadvantage, that these recesses, which were of varying depth, were
rather dark during the day, and that the cave itself was never very light. For,
except in bad weather, it would only be occupied at night. At earliest dawn
Captain Gould would be carried outside, to drink in the salt, invigorating air
and bask in the sunshine.

           
Inside the
cave Jenny arranged to occupy one of the recesses with her husband. A larger
one, sufficient to accommodate all three of them, was taken possession of by
James Wolston and his wife and little Bob. Frank contented himself with a
corner in the large hall, where he shared the company of the skipper and the
boatswain.

           
The remainder
of the day was given up entirely to rest. The boat's passengers had to recuperate
after the many emotions of this last week and the awful trial they had endured
so bravely.

           
Wisdom
dictated their resolution to spend a fortnight in this bay, where material
existence seemed to be secured for some time to come. Even if the Captain's
condition had not required that they should do so, John Block would not have
advised an immediate departure.

           
In the
evening, after a second meal of turtle soup, and turtle flesh and eggs, Frank
led them in prayer, and all went into the cave. Captain Gould, thanks to the
ministrations of Jenny and Dolly, was no longer shaking with fever. His wound
now closing, gave him less pain. He was progressing rapidly towards complete
recovery.

           
To keep a
watch during the night was needless. There was nothing to fear on this lonely
shore, neither savages nor wild beasts. It was unlikely that these gloomy and
depressing wastes had ever been visited by man before. The stillness was only
broken by the harsh and melancholy cry of the sea-birds as they came home to
their crannies in the cliff. The breeze died gradually away, and not a breath
of air stirred till the rising of the sun.

           
The men were
out at daybreak. First of all John Block went down the beach along the
promontory and made for the boat. It was still floating but would soon be left
high and dry by the ebb tide. Being fastened by hawsers on both sides, it had
not bumped against the rocks, even when the tide was at its highest, and as
long as the wind continued to blow from the east it could come to no harm. In
the event of the wind veering to the south they would see if it was necessary
to look for other moorings. Meantime the weather seemed to be definitely set
fair, and this was the fine season.

           
When he got
back the boatswain sought out Fritz and spoke to him about this.

           
"It's
worth giving a little thought to," he said. "Our boat comes before
everything else. A snug cave is fine. But one doesn't go to sea in a cave, and
when the time comes for us to leave—if it ever does come—it's important that we
shouldn't be prevented from doing so."

           
"Of
course, Block," Fritz answered. "We will take every possible care to
prevent the boat coming to harm. Do you think perhaps there is a better mooring
for her on the other side of the promontory?''

           
"We'll
see, sir, and since everything is all right on this side I will go round to the
other and hunt turtles. Will you come with me?"

           
"No,
Block. Go alone. I am going back to the captain. This last good night's rest
must have reduced the fever. When he wakes he will want to discuss the
situation. I must be there to tell him all that has happened."

           
"Quite
right, Mr. Fritz; and mind you tell him that there is nothing to be uneasy
about at present."

           
The boatswain
went to the far end of the promontory, and sprang from rock to rock across the
creek towards the place where he and Frank had come upon the turtles the day
before.

           
Fritz returned
to the cave, up to which Frank and James were busy bringing armfuls of
sea-weed. Mrs. Wolston was dressing little Bob. Jenny and Dolly were still with
the captain. In the corner of the promontory the fire crackled under the stove,
and the kettle began to boil, white steam escaping from its spout.

           
When Fritz
had finished his conversation with the captain, he and Jenny went down to the
beach. They walked a little way and then turned back under the lofty cliff
which enclosed them like a prison wall.

           
Fritz spoke
in tones of deep emotion.

           
"Dear
wife, I must talk to you of what is in my heart. I can see you with me in the
canoe after I had found you upon Burning Rock. And then our meeting with the
pinnace, and our return to Rock Castle with all the others! Two happy years
slipped by with nothing to mar their quiet happiness! You were the joy and
charm of our circle. We were so accustomed to life under those conditions that
it seemed as if there were no world outside our island. And if it had not been
for the thought of your father, beloved, perhaps we should not have sailed on
the
Unicorn
—perhaps we should never have left New Switzerland."

           
"Why do
you talk now of this, Fritz, dear?" said Jenny, greatly moved.

           
"I want
to tell you how heavy my heart has been since ill fortune has set in upon us.
Yes! I am full of remorse at having brought you to share it with me!"

           
"You
must not fear ill fortune," Jenny answered. "A man of your courage,
your energy, will not give way to despair, Fritz."

           
"Let me
finish, Jenny! One day the
Unicorn
arrived, over there, off New
Switzerland. She went away again, and took us to Europe. From that moment
misfortune has never ceased to strike you. Colonel Montrose died before he
could see his child –"

           
"Poor
father!" said Jenny, her eyes wet. "Yes, that happiness was withheld
from him— of clasping me in his arms, and rewarding my rescuer by placing my
hand in his. But God willed otherwise, and we must submit."

           
"Well,
Jenny dear," Fritz went on, "at all events there you were, back in
England; you had seen your own land again; you might have remained there with
your own people and found quiet happiness."

            "
Happiness!
Without you, Fritz?''

           
"And
then, Jenny, you would not have incurred fresh dangers, after all those which
you had escaped so miraculously. Yet you consented to follow me back to our
island again."

           
"Do you
forget that I am your wife, Fritz? Could I have hesitated to leave Europe, to
rejoin all those whom I love, your family, which is mine henceforward?"

           
"But Jenny,
Jenny, that does not make it less true that I drew you into fresh danger— and
danger that I cannot think of without panic. Our present situation is
desperate. Oh! those mutineers who caused it all, who cast us adrift! And you,
shipwrecked once in the
Dorcas,
now cast again upon an unknown island
even less habitable than Burning Rock!"

            "
But
I am not alone; I have you, and Frank, and our friends, brave and determined
men. Fritz, I shrink from no dangers present or to come! I know that you will
do everything possible for our safety."

           
"Everything,
my darling," Fritz exclaimed, "but though the thought that you are
there must double my courage, yet it also grieves me so much that I want to
throw myself at your knees and beg for your forgiveness! It is my fault that
–"

           
"Fritz,"
she answered, clinging to him, "no one could possibly have foreseen the
things which have happened—the mutiny, and our being cast adrift at sea. Far
better forget the ill fortune and contemplate only the good! We might have been
murdered by the crew of the
Flag,
or doomed to the tortures of hunger
and thirst in the boat. We might have perished in some storm. But instead we
have reached a land which is not quite without resources, which at least gives
us shelter. If we do not know what land it is we must try to find out, and we
will leave it if we find that we must."

           
"To
go—whither, my poor Jenny?"

           
"Somewhere
else, as our dear boatswain would say; to go wherever God wills that we
shall!"

           
"My dear
wife!" Fritz exclaimed. "You have given me back my courage! Yes! We
will fight on; we will not give way to despair. We will think of the precious
lives that are confided to our care. We will save them! We will save them—with
the help of God!"

           
"On whom
we never call in vain!" said Frank, who had overheard the last words
spoken by his brother. "Let us keep our trust in Him, and He will not
forsake us!"

           
Under Jenny's
encouragement Fritz recovered all his energy. His companions were as ready as
he was to spend themselves in superhuman efforts.

           
About ten
o'clock, as the weather was fine,

           
Captain Gould
was able to come and stretch himself in the sun at the far end of the
promontory. The boatswain returned from his trip round the creek as far as the
foot of the bluff to the east. Beyond that it was impossible to go. Even at low
tide it would have been useless to attempt to get round the foot of this huge
rock, about which the surf beat violently.

           
John Block
had been joined by James in the creek, and both brought back turtles and eggs. These
chelones swarmed upon the shore. In anticipation of an early departure it would
be possible to lay in a large stock of their flesh, which would secure a supply
of food for the passengers.

           
After
luncheon the men talked while Jenny, Polly, and Susan busied themselves washing
the spare linen in the fresh water of the stream. It would dry quickly in the
sun, for the day was hot. Afterwards, all the clothes were to be mended, so
that everybody might be ready to go aboard the boat again directly it should be
decided to make a start.

           
They had
important questions to answer. What was the geographical position of this land?
Was it possible to ascertain it without instruments, within a few degrees,
taking the position of the sun at noon as a basis for calculation? Such an
observation could not be absolutely accurate. But to-day it seemed to confirm
the opinion, already advanced by Captain Gould, that this land must lie between
the fortieth and thirtieth parallels. What meridian crossed it from north to
south there were no means of ascertaining, although the
Flag
must have
been somewhere in the western waters of the Pacific Ocean.

           
Then the idea
of reaching the upper plateau came up again. Pending the recovery of the
captain, was it not necessary to find out whether the boat had come ashore on a
continent, an island, or a mere islet? As the cliff was seven or eight hundred
feet high it was quite possible that some other land might be visible a few
miles out at sea. So Fritz and Frank and the boatswain made up their minds to
climb to the top of the cliff.

           
Several days
passed without bringing any change in the situation. Every one realised the
necessity of escaping from it somehow or other, and all were seriously afraid
that it might become worse. The weather remained fine. The heat was great, but
there was no thunder.

           
On several
occasions John Block and Fritz and Frank had walked round the bay from the
western bastion as far as the bluff. In vain had they looked for a gorge or
less precipitous slope by which they might gain the plateau above. The wall
rose sheer.