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Bob the Castaway

<h2 id="id01383" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XXIV</h2> <h5 id="id01384">DAYS OF HOPELESSNESS</h5> The captain's announcement struck terror to every heart. Even Bob, with the little knowledge of the sea he possessed, realized what that meant. They would have to "go it blind" now, and the chances of finding a comparatively small island in that vast ocean were little indeed. "Did I knock the compass overboard?" asked Mr. Tarbill. "You certainly did," spoke the captain grimly. "I—I didn't mean to." "No, I don't suppose you did. Still, it's on the bottom of the ocean by this time." "Oh, dear! What shall we do?" "The best we can. Fortunately, I have a general idea of the direction of our course, and at night I can make a shift to steer by the stars, but it's going to be pretty much guesswork." "If we can't find the big island, can't we go back to the small one where we were?" asked Bob hopefully. "It would be about as hard to find that as it's going to be to locate the other now. Still, we'll have to do the best we can. It's your watch, Mr. Carr. Keep her as near as you can about as she is while this wind holds. We'll have a bit to eat now." The captain dealt out the food and the supply of water. The amount of the latter was very small, as they did not have many casks in which to store a supply for their voyage. Still, no one complained, even Mr. Tarbill being too stunned by what he had done to find any fault. The day passed slowly, and the breeze kept up. But whether they were being urged on toward the island, or whether the wind had shifted and was bearing them in another direction, was something no one could tell. A deeper gloom than any that had prevailed since the shipwreck fell upon them all. When it got dark and the stars came out Captain Spark was able to direct the boat to a little better advantage, but when morning came, after the long darkness, during which no one had slept well, they found themselves on a vast, heaving expanse of water. "Where are we?" asked Mr. Tarbill. "Is the island in sight?" Captain Spark swept the horizon with his glasses. "There's not a sail to be seen," he said, "and no sign of land. I thought we would raise the island by this morning." "Then don't you know where we are?" asked the nervous man. "I haven't the least idea, except that we are somewhere on the Pacific Ocean." The captain spoke rather hopelessly. "Never mind," said Bob cheerfully. "We've got food enough for a week, and by that time something may happen." "Yes, something may," said Mr. Carr, with a gloomy look. "That's the way to talk, Bob," exclaimed the captain. "Never say die. We'll cheat old Davy Jones and his locker yet." Indeed, Bob's cheerfulness under trying circumstances was something that the captain had marked with satisfaction. The very character of the boy had undergone a change because of what he had been through. He seemed to have grown older and to have a fitting idea of responsibility. Bob was beginning to realize that life was not all play. It was rather hopeless sailing now, not knowing whether they were headed right or not. Still they kept on. They ate all they wanted, for the food was more plentiful than water, and they knew if worst came to worst they could live for several days without victuals, but not without water. Slowly the time dragged on. Nobody aboard the craft knew what to do. Once Bob tried to cheer up and hum a ditty, but the effort was a dismal failure. "Bob, I reckon you are sorry now that you left home and came with me," observed the captain soberly. "I'm not sorry that I left home," answered the lad promptly. "But I must confess I am sorry that all of us are in such a pickle as this." "If I had known my ship was going to be wrecked I'd not have taken you on this voyage." "It is an awful loss." "Yes—but I sha'n't mind it so much, if only we reach a place of safety." "Oh, if only I was home!" sighed Mr. Tarbill. "If only I was home!" "Wouldn't just dry land suit you?" queried Bob, with a bit of his old-time humor. "I—I suppose so, but I'd like home best." "Any land would suit me just now," put in the captain. "Supposing we should land among cannibals!" murmured the nervous passenger. "I don't believe there are any around here," answered Captain Spark. "But are you sure?" "No, I am not sure." "I knew it! Oh, if the savages got us it would be terrible!" And Mr. Tarbill shuddered. "Well, he's a wet blanket, if ever there was one!" declared Mr. Carr, in deep disgust. "I am—er—a wet blanket?" demanded the nervous passenger. "Yes, you are!" declared the other. "And I, for one, am tired of hearing you croak." "Hum!" murmured Mr. Tarbill, and then, for the time being, he said no more. The constant rocking of the boat made him somewhat sick at the stomach, and he was anything but happy. Bob could not help but think of home, and of his dear mother and father. If he was lost, what would they say and what would they do? "Dear folks at home!" he murmured. "If I ever get back you'll find me a different boy, yes, indeed, you will! No more silly tricks for Bob!" And he shut his lips with a firmness that meant a great deal. The boy had just closed his eyes to take a nap when a loud cry from Tim Flynn awoke him. "What's the matter?" he questioned. "What do you see, Tim?" asked the captain. The sailor was at the bow, standing up on the seat and gazing far across the rising and falling waters. He did not answer until the craft was on the crest of a high wave. "A ship!" he exclaimed. "Where?" came from all of the others in concert. "Dead ahead!" Both the captain and Mr. Carr looked and saw that the report was true. Far, far away could be seen a low-lying dark object, with a trail of smoke behind it. "It's a steamer," said Captain Spark. "Is it headed this way?" asked Bob, eagerly. "I believe so." "Are you sure, sir?" came from Mr. Tarbill. "Please don't make any mistake." "No, I am not sure. Tim, what do you think?" went on the captain. The sailor shrugged his shoulders. He was too anxious to even venture an opinion. How eagerly all on board the little craft watched that dark object so far away! One minute they felt certain the steamer was headed toward them, the next they were afraid it was moving off to the northward. "Let's sail after the steamer," suggested Bob. "It won't help us much," answered Mr. Carr. "Never mind, it will help some," came from Captain Spark, and they sailed and rowed with all the skill and strength they possessed. "Are we closer?" asked Mr. Tarbill. "Not yet!" answered the captain. "Can't we call to them?" "No—but we can fire a shot," answered Captain Spark, and not one shot but half a dozen were discharged. "If only the lookout sees us," said Bob. "I wish we could hoist some big signal." But they had nothing larger than the sail and a shirt. Mr. Carr furnished the garment and it was tied to the masthead. But if those on the steamer saw the signal they gave no sign. "She's goin' away!" wailed Tim Flynn at last. "Bad luck to her fer lavin' us!" "Going away!" ejaculated Bob, and his heart sank like a lump of lead in his bosom. "Don't say that!" wailed Mr. Tarbill. "Shout—fire a gun—anything! They must come and rescue us!" And in his nervousness the man began to caper about wildly. "Look out, or you'll go overboard!" shouted Captain Spark. Scarcely had he spoken when the boat was caught by a big wave and stood up almost on end. With a yell Mr. Tarbill slid to the stern, clutched at the gunwale, and disappeared with a splash. "Man overboard!" "Of all the fools!" muttered Mr. Carr. "Why couldn't he sit still and behave himself?" His patience, so far as the nervous passenger was concerned, was completely exhausted. Bob reached for the boathook, and as soon as Mr. Tarbill came up, he caught the iron in the man's coat and hauled him to the side. Then the captain and Tim Flynn hauled him back on board. "Help! I am drowning! Save me!" spluttered the nervous passenger. "I'll go to the bottom of the Pacific!" "No, you won't," answered Captain Spark. "But after this you had better sit still." "Oh, what a trying experience!" wailed the unfortunate one. He cleared his mouth of water. "Why did you let me go overboard?" he demanded. "Why didn't you stop me when you saw me slipping?" "Didn't have time," answered the captain. "You ought to thank Bob for hooking you." "He tore my coat sleeve," said Mr. Tarbill, examining the garment. "And it's the only coat I have now," he added mournfully. "Never mind, maybe you won't need a coat soon," put in Mr. Carr, who was more disgusted than ever. "How's that?" "If we go down the fish won't care if we have coats on or not—guess they'd rather eat us without coats." "Oh dear! Oh dear!" gasped the nervous passenger, and then he all but collapsed. "The steamer is turning!" cried Tim Flynn, who had climbed up the mast to obtain a better view. "Good luck to her if she comes this way!" "If only we could send her a wireless message!" said Bob. "Yes, here is where that newfangled telegraphing would come in handy," returned Captain Spark. "But we ain't got no apparatus, so we can't do it." With anxious eyes all watched the big steamer, which looked to be steering almost for them. The craft was a long way off, so they could make out nothing distinctly. "It's clouding down—we are going to have a squall!" cried Captain Spark suddenly. He pointed to the eastward and the others saw that he was right. As if by magic dark clouds were rolling up from the horizon. The wind died out, and then came in uncertain puffs. "The steamer is leaving us!" cried Mr. Carr. "Oh, don't say that, please don't!" wailed Mr. Tarbill. "Here comes the squall!" cried Captain Spark, and he was right. Soon a sudden gust of wind struck the sailboat, almost keeling her over. As quickly as it could be done, the sail was lowered and stowed away. The squall was of short duration, lasting all told not more than ten minutes. Only a few drops of rain fell. Then the clouds rolled off to the westward and it became as clear as before. "The steamer! It's gone!" shouted Mr. Carr. "What!" cried Captain Spark. "Gone, I tell you!" With great anxiety all strained their eyes to catch some sight of the large craft. At last Tim Flynn pointed with his finger. "There she is—sailin' right away from us!" he said bitterly. The words of the Irish tar proved true—the steamer had again altered her course. In a few minutes her dark form was swallowed up in the distant haze. It must be admitted that all were much cast down by this happening. When the steamer had headed directly for them they had thought sure they would be rescued. "They must have done it deliberately," said Mr. Tarbill. "Oh, the villains! the scoundrels!" "I don't believe that," answered Captain Spark. "More'n likely they didn't see us. No captain would be so inhuman as to pass us by." Two hours dragged by slowly. Tim Flynn was tired out with much watching and had lain down and Ned Scudd had taken his place. "I see something," said Ned, presently. "Don't know what it is." He pointed to the southward. There was some low-lying object, with the waves dashing against it. "Perhaps it's a ship with the masts gone," said Mr. Carr. "Or a dead whale," suggested Bob. "It's too big for either a ship or a whale," said the captain. "Let us sail toward it and make an inspection." "Don't—don't run into any new danger!" pleaded Mr. Tarbill. "Anything is better than to remain out on this dreary waste of waters," answered Mr. Carr. The castaways turned their boat in the direction of the distant object. It was further off than they had anticipated, and as they slowly approached they made out a long, low-lying island, covered with bushes and grass. Over the island hovered myriads of birds. "An island!" cried Bob. "Now we can go ashore anyhow!" "Not much of a place, I am afraid," answered Captain Spark, slowly taking in the spot from end to end with his sharp eyes. "Well, it's better nor nuthin," came from Tim Flynn. "Sure, an' some av thim burds will make good eatin', so they will!" "We want to be careful how we go ashore," cautioned the captain. "We don't want to damage our boat." They approached the new land cautiously. The water all around it seemed to be deep, so there was no danger of striking a hidden reef. Presently the captain espied a sandy beach, and straight for this the craft was headed. As the boat struck, Bob, Tim and Ned leaped out, followed by Mr. Carr, and, aided by the swells, pulled her well up. "Am I—er—to get out?" asked Mr. Tarbill timidly. "As you please," answered Captain Spark, grimly. "I am going ashore." "Then I'll go, too—I don't want to be left alone," said the nervous passenger. Soon all were on the beach, and then the boat was dragged higher up still, and tied to several of the low trees near by. "Let me shoot some birds—they will make fine eating," said Bob to the captain, and permission being given, the young castaway went on a brief hunt. The birds were so thick that he had little difficulty in bringing down several dozen. "Now we can have a bird pot-pie for supper," declared Mr. Carr, and he looked greatly pleased, and so did the others. All realized that the island upon which they had landed was not to be compared to that upon which they had previously been cast. The trees were of small account, none of them bearing fruit fit to eat. Some of the bushes contained berries, and Ned began to gather a cupful. "Go slow there, Ned," said the captain. "They may be poisonous." "They can't be—for I saw the birds feeding on, them," said Bob. "Oh, well, then it is all right." But the berries proved rather bitter to the taste and nobody felt like eating many of them. Tim started a fire, and over this they broiled and roasted the birds, each fixing the evening meal in the way that best suited him. "Are there any cannibals here?" asked Mr. Tarbill. "I don't believe there is a soul on the island besides ourselves," answered the captain. "I can't go to sleep if there are cannibals," groaned the nervous passenger. As late as it was, Bob, Ned and the captain took a tramp around the island. It was not over a quarter of a mile long and an eighth of a mile wide. There was fairly good walking close to the shore, but the interior was a mass of stunted trees, thorny bushes and long trailing vines, to get through which was impossible. "I haven't seen what I'd like most to see," said the captain, after the walk was ended. "What is that?" questioned Bob. "A spring of good, fresh water." "That's so—we didn't see any spring at all!" exclaimed Ned Scudd. "Too bad! We need water." The castaways were thoroughly tired out, and that night all went to bed and slept soundly. Nothing came to disturb them, although at daybreak Mr. Tarbill leaped up in alarm. "Hark!" he cried. "Somebody is coming! It must be the cannibals!" "What!" exclaimed Captain Spark, and he jumped up, followed by the others. Then all listened. From the interior of the little island came a most unearthly screaming. "Somebody is being murdered!" gasped Mr. Tarbill, and sank on his knees. "Oh, oh, why did I leave home!" They listened intently, and then Mr. Carr set up a laugh. "What is it?" asked Bob, curiously. "Parrots, my boy, nothing but parrots." "To be sure—I should have knowed it," came from the captain. "They allers screech like that in the morning." "Are you sure they are parrots?" asked the nervous passenger. "Dead certain," answered Mr. Carr. "If you don't believe it, just go over to yonder trees and shoo them up into the air." "I—I don't think I care to do that—they might fly at me and peck me." "Well, they are parrots—and they won't hurt you if you leave 'em alone." During the morning the search for a spring of water was resumed. At last they found several pools, the water coming up in them from underground. But the birds used the pools for drinking places and they were consequently far from clean. "How long are we to stay on this island?" asked Mr. Tarbill, while they were eating a breakfast of broiled birds, fish, and crackers. "Not very long, I'm thinking," answered the captain. "In a storm it wouldn't be a very safe place. The water must sweep the land pretty well, and our boat would be stove to pieces." "But where are you going?" "We'll try to make that big island I spoke about," went on the captain. Then of a sudden, he bent closer to the nervous man. "What's that on your watch chain?" he demanded. "My watch chain?" "Yes. It looks like a tiny compass to me." "Why—er—it is a compass," stammered Mr. Tarbill. "And you never told us that you had it!" roared the captain. "I—I forgot it!" stammered the passenger. "I—I was so upset, you know." "Let me see it." Captain Spark took the compass and examined it with care. It was small, but of good manufacture, and looked as if it might point true. "Not near as good as the one we lost," he said to Mr. Carr. "But it is better than nothing." "Indeed it is," was the reply. "I thought that was a locket," said Bob. "I noticed it on the watch chain several times." "It was given to me by my uncle, years ago," said Mr. Tarbill. "Please don't lose it." "I'll keep it safe, don't fear," answered the captain. "Reckon it is safer in my keepin' than yours," he added. With the discovery of the tiny compass the hopes of the castaways revived. All felt that it would be a waste of time to remain on the small island, and accordingly preparations were made to leave on the following morning. To add to their stock of provisions the men and Bob brought down a large quantity of birds and also caught a lot of fish, and these were broiled and cooked, to keep them from spoiling. They also got what water they could and stored it in a cask, and Bob picked a capful of berries. "Some of the parrots are beautiful," said the boy to the captain. "If I was sure of getting home again I'd like to take some of the feathers along, for my mother's hat." "Better not bother, Bob." "I'll not. I was only thinking, sir." "I have great hopes of reaching that large island," went on Captain Spark. "But, when we embark again, we'll have to take what comes. That little compass will help us some, but it may not be as accurate as is necessary." "Why not stay on this island till a ship comes along?" "I don't consider this as safe as the other island was." That night Bob went to bed early. He awoke in the middle of the night to feel somebody or something pulling at his foot. "Hi! who is there?" he shouted, sitting up. At the same moment came a wild yell from Mr. Tarbill. "The cannibals have come!" yelled the nervous man. "One of 'em has me by the throat!" "Stop that row!" came from Captain Spark. "There are no savages here!" "Maybe he's got the nightmare," suggested Mr. Carr. "No, no, I am attacked!" bawled Mr. Tarbill. "I know what they are!" shouted Bob. "Get out of here, you imp!" And he struck something with a stick that was handy. There was a wild chattering and off into the darkness stole several impish figures. "What were they?" asked Ned, who was still sleepy. "Monkeys," answered the youth, "Pretty big ones, too." "Are you sure they weren't cannibals?" queried Mr. Tarbill. "Some of the wild men are very small, you know. In Africa they are not over three feet high." "Monkeys, true enough," said the captain. "I saw some of 'em watching our camp when we had supper. They were afraid to come close when we were stirring, but I suppose when we were quiet their curiosity got the best of them, and they had to come and feel of us." "Ugh! I don't want any more of them to come near me," said Mr. Tarbill, with a shudder. The weather was all that could be desired, and the captain determined to make the most of it. An early breakfast was had, and then the things were taken back to the boat. "All aboard!" shouted Captain Spark. "And may we now locate that large island without further trouble." "Oh, I wish I was home!" groaned Mr. Tarbill. The boat was floated without difficulty, and the castaways got aboard. They rowed for some distance and then the sail was hoisted. Inside of an hour the little, island faded from their view and once more they found themselves alone on the bosom of the broad Pacific. The captain had great hopes of the small compass, but he and the others were doomed to disappointment. The compass proved unreliable, as they discovered that night, when the stars came out. "It's no use," said Captain Spark. "We have got to sail by our wits, if we ever expect to reach a place of safety." And all that day they kept on, not knowing if they were heading in the proper direction or not. It was just getting dusk of the second day of their voyage, when Tim Flynn, opening a forward locker to set out some things for the evening meal, made a startling discovery. "The gig has sprung a leak!" he exclaimed. "A leak!" cried the captain. "Yes, this locker is half full of water, and all the stuff in it is soaked." It was true enough. The salt water had come in through some opening of the seams of the previously tight compartment and had done much damage. The victuals were only fit to throw overboard. "Half rations from now on," said the captain sternly. "Half rations!" repeated Mr. Tarbill. "Why, I'm awful hungry!" "And you're liable to be for some days to come," answered the commander. "We'll share and share alike, but every one will have to curb his appetite." "Oh, this dreadful shipwreck! I wish I had stayed home!" The others wished the same thing. It was a night without hope, and the morning broke dull and gray, with the promise of a storm. The wind shifted from point to point until the castaways did not know in which direction they were going, for there was no sun to guide them. The leaky locker was tightly closed, so that there was no danger of the boat filling from it. The amount of breakfast seemed woefully small to Bob, and he recalled with a start the wish Dent Freeman, the hired man, had expressed, that the boy who tormented him would have to eat seaweed. "Perhaps I shall before we're through with this," said the lad to himself. "There isn't much more food left." Still he did not complain, setting a good example in this respect to Mr. Tarbill, who did nothing but find fault, until Captain Spark ordered him to take an oar and with one of the sailors aid in propelling the boat, for the wind had suddenly died out. For two days more they sailed or rowed on. The weather continued unsettled, but fortunately not breaking into a storm. Sometimes there was a breeze, and again there was a dead calm, when they took turns at the oars. It was all guesswork as to whether or not they were headed for the island. The food became less and less, until finally they were living on three dry biscuits a day each. The water, too, was getting lower and lower in the one cask that remained, and it had a warm, brackish taste. Still it was the most precious thing they possessed. More and more worried became the look on Captain Spark's face. How anxiously each morning and a dozen times a day did he scan the horizon with his glasses for a sight of the island or a ship! But nothing was to be seen save the heaving billows. Mr. Tarbill became weak-minded, and babbled of cooling streams of water and delicious food until Ned Scudd, losing all patience, threatened to throw the nervous man overboard if he did not cease. This had the effect of quieting him for a while. The faces of all were haggard and thin. Their eyes were unnaturally bright. Poor Bob bore up bravely, though tears came into his eyes as he thought of his father and mother, and the pleasant and happy home now so far away. "Bob's as good as a man," whispered the captain to Mr. Carr, and the first mate nodded an assent. It was the third day of absolute hopelessness. The water was reduced to so little that only a small cupful could be served to each one as the day's supply. Enough biscuits for two days remained. They had lost all sense of direction, for a fog obscured the sun. On the morning of the fourth day Bob awoke from a troubled sleep to find Mr. Carr dozing at the helm. There was no need to steer, for there had been a dead calm for many hours, and they did not row during the night. Bob's tongue felt like a piece of rubber in his mouth. His throat was parched and dry, and his stomach craved woefully for food. He stood up on a forward locker, and, taking the captain's glasses, slowly swept them around the sky-line. Was it imagination, or did he really see some small black object off to the left? His heart beat fast, and his nerves were throbbing so he could not hold the glasses steady. Captain Spark roused himself from a brief nap. He saw what Bob was doing. "See anything?" he asked listlessly. "I don't know—I'm not sure—there's something off there that looks like——" "Let me take the glasses!" cried the commander. He fairly snatched them from the boy. With his trained vision he looked long where Bob pointed. Then he cried: "Thank God! There's a boat coming toward us. I think we're saved! There are natives in it, but they don't seem to have any weapons! I believe they're from the big island. Row, men, row as hard as you can and we'll meet them the sooner!" Tim and Ned caught up the oars and sent the gig over the calm water at a fast rate of speed. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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