The Castaways of the Flag (9 page)

           
"I think
so, too, Block, and I think that we shall be able to renew our provisions by
fishing, if we can't by hunting."

           
"As you
say, sir. Then, if the game here only amounts to sea-birds which one can't live
on, we will hunt in the forests and plains inland and make up our fishing that
way. Without guns, of course –"

           
"What
brutes they were, Block, not even to leave us any firearms!"

           
'' They were
perfectly right—in their own interests, you understand," the boatswain
replied. "Before we let go I could not have resisted the temptation to
shoot at the head of that rascal Borupt—the treacherous hound!"

           
"Traitors
all," Fritz added; "all of them who stood in with him."

           
"Well, they
shall pay for their treachery some day!" John Block declared.

           
"Did you
hear anything, bos'un?" Fritz asked suddenly, listening intently.

           
"No;
that sound is only the ripples along the shore. There is nothing to worry
about, so far, and although the night is as dark as the bottom of the hold I've
got good eyes."

           
"Well,
don't shut them for a moment, Block; let us be prepared for anything."

           
"The
hawser is ready to be cast off," the boatswain answered. "If need be,
we shall only have to seize the oars, and with one shove with the boat-hook
I'll guarantee to drive the boat a good twenty yards from the rocks."

           
More than once,
however, during the night, Fritz and the boatswain were set on the alert. They
thought they could hear a crawling sound upon the sandy shore.

           
Deep silence
reigned. The breeze had died away; the sea had fallen to a calm. A slight surf
breaking at the foot of the rocks was all that could be heard. A few birds, a
very few,, gulls and sea-mews flying in from the sea, sought their crannies in
the cliffs. Nothing disturbed the first night passed upon the shore.

           
Next morning
all were astir at daybreak, and it was with sinking hearts that they examined
the coast on which they had found refuge.

           
Fritz had
been able to see part of it the day before, when it was a mile or so away.
Viewed from that point it extended ten or twelve miles east and west. From the
promontory at the foot of which the boat was moored, only a fifth of that, at
most, could be seen, shut in between two angles with the sea beyond, clear and
lucent on the right hand but still dark upon the left. The shore extended for a
stretch of perhaps a mile, enclosed at each end by lofty bastions of rock,
while a black cliff completely shut it in behind.

           
This cliff
must have been eight or nine hundred feet in height, rising sheer from the
beach, which sloped steeply up to its base. Was it higher still beyond? That
could only be ascertained by scaling the crest by means of the bastions, one of
which, the one to the east, running rather farther out to sea, presented an
outline that was not so perpendicular. Even on that side, however, the ascent
would be an uncommonly difficult one, if indeed it were not impracticable.

           
Captain Gould
and his companions were first conscious of a feeling of utter discouragement as
they beheld the wild desolation of this carpet of sand, with points of rock
jutting out here and there. Not a tree, not a bush, not a trace of vegetation!
Here were the melancholy and horror of the desert. The only verdure was that of
scanty lichens, those rudimentary productions of nature, rootless, stalkless,
leafless, flowerless, looking like scabby patches on the sides of the rocks,
and of every tint from faded yellow to brilliant red. In some places, too,
there was a kind of sticky mildew caused by the damp. At the edge of the cliff
there was not a blade of grass; on its granite wall there was not a single one
of those stone-crops or rock plants which need so very little soil.

           
Was it to be
deduced that soil was lacking on the plateau above as well? Had the boat found
nothing better than one of those desert islands undeserving of a name?

           
"It
certainly isn't what you might call a gay place," the boatswain murmured
in Fritz's ear.

           
"Perhaps
we should have had better luck if we had come ashore on the west or east."

           
"Perhaps,"
Block assented; "but at any rate we shall not run up against any savages
here."

           
For it was
obvious that not even a savage could have existed on this barren shore.

           
Jenny, Frank,
Dolly, James, and Susan sat in the boat, surveying the whole coast, so
different from the verdant shores of the Promised Land. Even Burning Rock,
gloomy of aspect as it was, had had its natural products to offer to Jenny
Montrose, the fresh water of its stream and the game in its woods and plains.
Here was nothing but stones and sand, a bank of shells on the left, and long
trails of sea-weeds left high and dry by the tide. Verily, a land of
desolation!

           
The animal
kingdom was represented by a few sea-birds, gulls, black-divers, sea-mews, and
swallows, which uttered deafening cries at finding their solitude disturbed by
the presence of man. Higher up, great frigate-birds, halcyons and albatrosses
sailed on powerful wings.

           
"Well,"
said the boatswain at last, "even if this shore is not so good as yours in
New Switzerland, that's no reason for not landing on it."

           
"Then
let us land," Fritz answered. "I hope we shall find somewhere to
shelter at the foot of the cliff."

           
"Yes,
let us land," said Jenny.

           
"Dear
wife," said Fritz, "I advise you to remain here in the boat, with
Mrs. Wolston and Dolly, while we make our trip. There is no sign of danger, and
you have nothing to be afraid of."

           
"Besides,"
the boatswain added, "we most likely shan't go out of sight."

           
Fritz jumped
on to the sand, followed by the others, while Dolly called out cheerfully:

           
"Try to
bring us back something for dinner, Frank! We are relying upon you."

           
"We must
rely upon you rather, Dolly,"

           
Frank
replied. "Put out some lines at the foot of those rocks."

           
"We had
better not land," Mrs. Wolston agreed. "We will do our best while you
are away."

           
"The
great thing," Fritz remarked, "is to keep what little biscuit we have
left, in case we are obliged to put to sea again."

           
"Now,
Mrs. Fritz," John Block said, "get the stove going. We are not the
kind of people to be satisfied with lichen soup or boiled pebbles, and we
promise to bring you something solid and substantial."

           
The weather
was fairly fine. Through the clouds in the east a few sun-rays filtered.

           
Fritz, Frank,
James, and the boatswain trudged together along the edge of the shore, over sand
still wet from the last high tide.

           
Ten feet or
so higher the sea-weeds lay in zig-zag lines.

           
Some were of
kinds which contain nutritive substances, and John Block exclaimed:

           
"Why,
people eat that—when they haven't got anything else! In my country, in Irish
sea-ports, a sort of jam is made of that!"

           
After walking
three or four hundred yards in this direction, Fritz and his companions came to
the foot of the bastion to the west. Formed of enormous rocks with slippery
surfaces, and almost perpendicular, it plunged straight down into the clear and
limpid water which the slight surf scarcely disturbed. Its foundations could be
seen seven or eight fathoms below.

           
To climb
along this bastion was quite impossible for it rose perpendicularly. It would
be necessary to scale the cliff in order to find out if the upper plateau
displayed a less arid surface. Moreover, if they had to abandon the idea of
climbing this bastion it meant that they could only get round it by means of
the boat. The matter of present urgency, however, was to look for some cavity
in the cliff wherein they could take shelter.

           
So all went
up to the top of the beach, along the base of the bastion.

           
When they
reached the corner of the cliff, they came upon thick layers of sea-weeds,
absolutely dry. As the last water-marks of the high tide were visible more than
two hundred yards lower down, this meant—the steep pitch of the shore being
taken into account—that these plants had been thrown up so far, not by the sea,
but by the winds from the south, which are very violent in these waters.

           
"If we
were obliged to spend the winter here," Fritz remarked, "these
sea-weeds would supply us with fuel for a long time, if we could not find any
wood."

           
"Fuel
that burns fast," the boatswain added. "Before we came to the end of
heaps like that, of course            . But we have still got something to boil
the pot with to-day. Now we must find something to put in it!"

           
"Let's
look about," Frank answered.

           
The cliff was
formed by irregular strata. It was easy to recognise the crystalline nature of
these rocks, where feldspar and gneiss were mixed, an enormous mass of granite,
of plutonic origin and extreme hardness.

           
This
formation recalled in no respect to Fritz and Frank the walls of their own
island from Deliverance Bay to False Hope Point, where limestone only was
found, easily broken by pick or hammer. It was thus that the grotto of Rock
Castle had been fashioned. Out of solid granite, any such work would have been
impossible.

           
Fortunately
there was no need to make any such attempt. A hundred yards from the bastion,
behind the piles of sea-wrack, they found a number of openings in the rock.
They resembled the cells of a gigantic hive, and possibly gave access to the
inside of the rock.

           
There were
indeed several cavities at the foot of this cliff.

           
While some
provided only small recesses, others were deep and also dark, owing to the
heaps of sea-weed in front of them. But it was quite likely that in the
opposite part, which was less exposed to the winds from the sea, some cavern
opened into which they might carry the stores from the boat.

           
Trying to
keep as near as possible to where the boat was moored, Fritz and his companions
walked towards the eastern bastion. They hoped to find this more practicable
than the other, because of its elongated outline in its lower portion, and
thought that they might be able to get round it. Although it stood up sheer in
its upper portion, it sloped towards the middle and ended in a point by the sea.

           
Their
anticipations were not disappointed. In the corner formed by the bastion was a
cave quite easy of access. Sheltered from the easterly, northerly, and
southerly winds, its position exposed it only to the winds from the west, less
frequent in these regions.