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Bob the Castaway

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<h2 id="id01354" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XXIII</h2> <h5 id="id01355">A SERIOUS LOSS</h5> Under a bright blue sky, with the sun shining down almost a little too warm for comfort, and with the sea very calm, the voyage that meant so much to all of them was begun. They looked back with a little regret at the small island they were leaving. There, at least, they knew they would be safe, but unless they desired to risk the chance of staying there many months, they must make this venture. "Well, it was a fine little camp," murmured Bob, with a tone of sorrow in his voice. "Indeed it was," declared Mr. Tarbill. "I wish I was back there now." "Perhaps we all will be," said Captain Spark gravely, "but there is no use discovering a leak in your boat until it's actually there," which was his way of saying that it was bad luck to cross a bridge until you came to it. "Now we've got to have some system about this voyage," went on the commander. "We've got enough provisions and water to last us for the trip if we are careful of them. We'll not be able to have any banquets, and I depend upon every one—in which I include myself—to be sparing of the food and drink. There is no telling what may happen." "I have a very good appetite since taking this sea voyage," murmured Mr. Tarbill. "I can't bear to think of being hungry." "Well, perhaps there'll be no need for it. I only wanted to warn you. Now I propose to take command of this gig, for it is my property, and I'm going to be obeyed, just as if we were on the Eagle." "Aye, aye, sir," replied the sailors promptly. "I'll do my best to bring the craft to the larger island as soon as possible. We'll have to depend somewhat on the wind, for we can't row all that distance in time to make our provisions last. Fortunately, I have a reliable pocket compass, so I can lay our course fairly accurately. Now, Ned Scudd and Tim Flynn, step the mast and hoist the sail and we'll see how our craft behaves under canvas." The two sailors soon had the sail hoisted, and under the influence of a stiff breeze the gig shot rapidly ahead, the oars being shipped. They had two pairs now, one the spare lot from the gig and the other from the boat Mr. Carr had commanded. Captain Spark arranged his pocket compass on the stern seat near the tiller, and sitting there he directed the course of the small boat as nearly as he could toward the large island. He and Mr. Carr were to divide the watches of the day and night. There would be four, of six hours each. That is, Captain Spark would be in charge of the boat for six hours, and then Mr. Carr would go on watch for the same length of time, until it became the captain's turn again. In this way each one could get sufficient rest. The two sailors, Bob and Mr. Tarbill were divided between the two heads of the watch, Bob and Tim Flynn being chosen by the captain. The food had been carefully stowed away in the lockers, the captain's charts, chronometer and sextant were put where he could easily get at them, and as they had breakfasted before they set off on their voyage, there was nothing to do for several hours but to make themselves as comfortable as possible in the boat. Had it not been for the worry over what might be the outcome, and had not the dreadful memory of the shipwreck been in all their minds, they might have enjoyed the sail. As it was, no one felt very jolly. Mr. Tarbill was particularly miserable, and was continually finding fault. "Oh, dear! It's dreadfully hot!" he exclaimed when they had been sailing for several hours and Bob's Island was out of sight. "I'm afraid I shall be sunstruck." "Get in the shadow of the sail. Go forward," advised Captain Spark. "I'm afraid to move for fear I'll slip overboard as Bob did." "Well, if you do we can see to fish you out. It's daylight now." "Oh, I'm miserable! I wish I had never come on this trip! I know I shall never live to see home again!" "I, too, wish you hadn't come," thought the captain, but he really felt sorry for the nervous man. Finally it grew so hot that Mr. Tarbill could stand it no longer. He decided he would make his way forward, where he could be in the shade of the sail. The others were very warm also, but they did not complain. Even Bob, who was not used to roughing it as were the sailors, stood it bravely, though the hot sun made his head ache. Mr. Tarbill, who was in the stern, near Captain Spark, arose and started forward. As he did so a wave, larger than any that the boat had previously encountered, careened the craft a bit. "Oh, I'm going overboard!" exclaimed Mr. Tarbill. He made a frantic clutch at the air, and really did almost go over the side, but it was due more to his own awkwardness than to anything else. Then he slipped down into the bottom of the gig, but as he did so his arm shot out and something bright and shining was knocked from the after locker over the gunwale into the sea, where it fell with a little splash. "Now you have done it!" cried the captain, standing up and making a vain grab. "Done it? Done what?" asked Mr. Tarbill. "You've knocked overboard the only compass we had! How we're going to find the island now is more than I can tell! This is a serious loss." <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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