CHAPTER XXVIII
MAROONED
On the following morning Captain Marshall went out once more to look for a passageway through the reef. Dave accompanied him, and so did Billy Dill. In the meantime Roger and Phil rowed ashore, to see if they could find any more traces of the natives.
The captain and Dave had been out about an hour, when they noticed a small boat coming toward them, containing two sailors and the first mate.
"Captain Marshall, you are wanted on shore at once!" cried Paul Shepley, when within hearing distance. "Those two boys just sent word to the ship by a native. They said to bring young Porter and Dill along."
"They must have discovered something!" cried Dave, quickly. "Oh, let us go, by all means!"
"I will," answered the master of the Stormy Petrel. "Did they say where they were?"
"Near the interior of the island, I believe," answered the mate.
No more was said, and, winding up his lead line, the captain had the rowboat turned around and headed for the island. In the meantime the first mate returned to the bark. Once on the deck of the ship he was quickly joined by the former supercargo.
"What did he say?" asked Jasper Van Blott, anxiously.
"Said he'd go."
"Then we must lose no time in getting up the anchors. Luckily the breeze is just right."
"Wait until they are ashore and have disappeared," answered the first mate, nervously. He was really a coward at heart, and now fairly under the thumb of Van Blott.
It took but a few minutes for the captain, Dave, and Billy Dill to gain the stretch of sand. Then those on the Stormy Petrel saw them draw the small craft up to a safe place and disappear in among the trees.
"Now then, act as quickly as you can," said Jasper Van Blott.
An order was issued for the sailors to come on deck, and all did so, and the second mate, a young man named Bob Sanders, also appeared. Then Paul Shepley issued orders to hoist the anchors and raise some of the sails.
"What does this mean, Mr. Shepley?" asked the second mate, in surprise.
"The captain has found a passageway and wants me to take the ship out and around to the other side of the island," replied the first mate. "He wants us to be lively, too."
Bob Sanders was mystified, but, as he was not on particularly good terms with the first mate, he asked no more questions. Soon the sails were up, and Paul Shepley himself steered the bark toward the passageway he had discovered.
"You are sure of what you are doing?" asked Jasper Van Blott, coming to the wheel. "We don't want to strike and go to the bottom."
"I wish I was as sure of the future as I am of the passageway," answered the first mate, somewhat grimly.
"Oh, don't worry about the future," answered the former supercargo, lightly. "In a few days we'll have everything in apple-pie order."
There was a good breeze, and the bark cleared the reef with but little difficulty. Then Paul Shepley had all the sails set, and soon the Stormy Petrel was leaving the island far behind.
In the meantime Captain Marshall, Dave, and the old tar were looking everywhere for Phil and Roger. They dove straight into the jungle and called out as loudly as they could. But no answer came back.
"It is queer that we can't locate them," was Dave's comment. "If they wanted us, I should think they would be watching out, wouldn't you?"
"Perhaps they are in trouble," answered the captain, gravely.
He fired .his pistol as a signal, and at last came an answering shot from the lower end of the island. At once they hurried in that direction, only to find themselves cut off by a stretch of impassable marsh land.
"Reckon as how we'll have to go around," observed Billy Dill. "If we try to go through thet we'll git stuck, fer sartin!"
Going around was not so easy, and it took them nearly half an hour to cover a mile. Then the captain discharged his pistol once more, and a'minute later came an answering shot but a short distance away.
"I see them—at the top of the hill!" cried Dave, and, looking ahead, the others discovered Phil and Roger at the top of the slight rise of ground, waving their handkerchiefs to attract attention. Soon the two parties were together.
"What's the news?" cried Captain Marshall, looking around to see if anybody else was present.
"No news," answered Phil. He gazed at them curiously. "What's up? You look rather excited!"
"Didn't you send for us?" gasped Dave.
"Send for you? What do you mean?" queried Roger.
"The first mate said you sent a native to the bark, asking us to come to you," said Captain Marshall.
"We sent nobody—we have seen no natives to day."
There was a pause, during which each looked blankly at the others.
"I can't understand this," said Dave, slowly. "Mr. Shepley certainly delivered that message."
"It is a trick of some sort!" burst out Captain Marshall. "The very best thing we can do is to get back to the vessel without delay.
The others thought so, too, and in a moment more all were on their way to the shore, hurrying through the undergrowth as rapidly as the bushes and vines would permit. Phil and Roger had managed to shoot two small animals that looked like hares, but that was all.
At last they came out on the sands, and a shout of dismay went up.
"The ship is gone!"
"The Stormy Petrel has sailed away and left us!"
The boys and the old sailor turned to Captain Marshall, whose face had turned white. Now it grew dark and stern.
"How could they get out of the harbor?" questioned Dave.
"Shepley must have found a passageway," answered the captain.
"But where has the ship gone to?" queried Phil. "I can't see her anywhere."
Instead of replying, the captain of the Stormy Petrel clenched his hands and compressed his lips. He was doing some deep thinking.
"I must say, this looks to me as if somebody had run off with the ship!" declared the senator's son.
"And that is just what they have done!" cried the captain. "Oh, the rascals! the scoundrels! If I ever catch them" He could not finish, so great was his rage.
"Run off with the ship!" burst out Dave. "How could they do that? Do you think there was a regular mutiny?"
"There may have been—anyway, the bark is gone—and we are left to shift for ourselves."
"I think I see through it," said Phil. "The first mate and Van Blott have hatched this up between them. I know they were as thick as peas—in fact, I suspect Shepley helped the supercargo to hide away on board. They must have bought over the crew and Mr. Sanders."
"I don't think they could buy over Bob Sanders," declared the captain. "I know him too well. He is very quiet, but I'd trust him with almost anything. But I can't say as much for all the crew. Shepley got some of the men to ship, and he most likely knew whom he was getting."
"What are you going to do about it?" asked Roger.
"I don't exactly know what to do, yet, lad. We are marooned, that is all there is to it. And it doesn't look as if they had left us anything to live on, either," added the captain, casting his eyes along the shore.
"Do you mean to say they have deserted us?" cried Dave.
"Doesn't it look like it?"
"And stolen the bark?"
"Yes."
Dave drew a long breath. Here was another set-back, of which he had not dreamed. If the Stormy Petrel had really sailed away, not to return, what were they to do, and when would they get a chance to leave the lonely island?
"This is positively the worst yet!" groaned Roger. "The fellows who would do such a thing ought to be—be hanged! And they haven't left us a thing!"
"Let us separate and see if we can sight the bark," said the captain, and this was done, one party going to the upper end of the island and the other to the lower. But not a trace of the missing vessel was to be seen.
It was a decidedly sober party that gathered on the sands two hours later to discuss the situation and decide upon what was to be done. Here they were, marooned on a deserted island, with no food and but little shelter, and with only two pistols and a shotgun between them. It was certainly not a situation to be envied.
"I used to think, when I was a small boy, that I'd like to play Robinson Crusoe," remarked Roger. "But I've changed my mind, and I'd much rather be back on the ship."
"Humph! If you are going to talk that way, what will you say if we have to stay here weeks, or months, or maybe years?" asked Phil.
"Gracious!" burst out Dave. "You don't think we'll have to stay here years, do you?"
"We'll have to stay until we can git away," was the sage remark of Billy Dill. "Captain, are we in the track o' any ships?"
Captain Marshall shook his head slowly.
"I don't think we are. That storm blew us far out of our course. I doubt if a ship comes this way once in three months."
"There, what did I tell you!" cried Phil. "But don't think I want to stay," he added, quickly. "I am just as anxious to get away as any one, and anxious to regain my father's ship, too. Why, to lose her would mean a serious loss to my father!"
They talked the matter over until nightfall, but without reaching any satisfactory conclusion. Not one of the party could bring himself to think that he would really have to stay on the island for any great length of time.
"If we do have to stay, we'll havetorassle around fer somethin' to eat," remarked Billy Dill. "The mean sharks! They might at least have left us a barrel o' salt horse an' some canned goods—an' a little tobacco," he added, dolefully. His pipe was empty and so was his pouch, and this added the last drop to his misery.
As night came on they gathered some driftwood and lit a campfire, not because they were cold, but because it looked more cheerful, and because it also helped to keep away some obnoxious insects that had appeared. Over the fire they cooked the game Roger and Phil had shot, and made a supper of this and some crackers the boys had been carrying in their pockets. Then they sat down to talk the matter over once more. As the night advanced, the bright stars bespangled the heavens and all became perfectly calm and quiet. Tired out by what had passed, one after another sought a comfortable resting-place, and soon all were sound asleep.