Dave Porter in the South Seas: or, The Strange Cruise of the Stormy Petrel

After a little look around, they determined to start up the shore, and did so, with their provisions on their backs and Dave carrying the shotgun and Phil the pistol. Roger and the old tar armed themselves with big sticks.

A half-mile was covered, when they came to a hollow, in which were basking a number of turtles, all of great size. Phil gave a shout, and on the instant the turtles all headed for the ocean with clumsy, but swift, strides. Billy Dill made after them and managed to catch the last one and turn him over.

"He will make fine turtle soup," said the tar.

"So he will!" cried Dave. "I suppose I might have shot at them."

"Not worth while, lad; one is enough."

They soon came to a portion of the shore where the undergrowth was exceedingly close, and they had to journey a short distance inland. The palms were thick, and they saw numerous cocoanuts and great varieties of beautiful ferns and gigantic creeping vines. Billy Dill also pointed out three varieties of bread-fruit trees.

"Well, a fellow wouldn't starve here, in spite of the scarcity of meat," observed Dave.

"And meat isn't especially good in hot weather," added Roger.

"Natives down here eat very little meat," said the old tar. "They use lots of yams and such stuff, besides bananas and plantains. Everything grows of itself, and they have a lazy man's life of it."

"Excepting when they fight each other," observed Phil.

An hour later they came out on the shore again. They were now away from the harbor and could look straight out on the ocean.

"Look! look!" cried Roger, pointing seaward. "Am I mistaken, or do I see a long canoe filled with men?"

"It certainly is a canoe," declared Dave, after a look.

"And it is filled with natives," added Phil. "What do you make of this?" he added, turning to Billy Dill. "Are they coming here?"

"I don't think they are, Phil. They seem to be headed away from this island."

The canoe was certainly a large one, and they counted at least twelve natives at the paddles, or sweeps. Other natives were in the bow and stern of the craft. In quarter of an hour the canoe was but a speck in the distance, and then it was lost to sight altogether.

"We'll have to tell the captain about this," declared Dave. "If there are natives around, he will want to know it."

"Perhaps they can tell us of a way out of the harbor," suggested Roger.

"Like as not, if there is a way out," spoke up Billy Dill. "They generally know the coasts putty well – bein' out so much in their canoes."

The little party continued on its exploring tour, but soon came to a portion of the marsh land the captain had mentioned. Not wishing to get stuck, they began to retrace their steps, until they were in the midst of the thickets again. Then a strange rushing sound through the trees broke upon their ears.

"Wait!" whispered Billy Dill, "I know what that is. Don't make any noise."

"Is there any danger?" queried Roger.

The old tar shook his head. Then he pointed upward, and the boys saw a large flock of beautiful tropical birds settling down on all sides of them.

"What a sight!" murmured Dave. "How pretty they are!"

"They get birds for ladies' hats from places like this," whispered Billy Dill.

"I know it. What a shame to shoot them down, too!"

"It is a shame, lad; and ladies ought to stop wearin' sech finery," said the old tar, soberly.

They watched the beautiful birds for some time. Then the creatures discovered the strangers, and off they went in a mad flight, and were lost to sight.

An hour later found the party passing down the shore once more. Here they walked on the sand until they came to something of a cove, surrounded by stately palms.

"Might as well rest a bit – " began Roger, when Dave uttered a cry:

"See, the remains of a campfire!"

"Yes, and the remains of a feast, too!" added Phil. "Those natives must have been here!"

CHAPTER XXVII

A MAP AND A PLOT

The boys and Billy Dill viewed the surroundings with interest. Some bones lay on the ground, and they kicked them over.

"These can't be human bones, can they?" whispered the senator's son to Dave.

"No, Roger, they are nothing but the bones of some small animal."

"I was afraid the natives might be cannibals!"

To one side of the camp lay a fantastically carved stick, evidently cut by somebody during his leisure. Dave picked this up and saw that it contained a heart, an anchor, a cross, several links of a chain, and some stars. At the big end of the stick was an American flag.

"Hello, look here!" exclaimed the country boy. "This is strange, to say the least. I don't believe any native would cut a stick in this fashion."

"Neither do I," declared Phil. "That must have been carved by an American, and with his jack-knife. Perhaps some sailors were camping out here."

"To me this campfire, or what's left o' it, looks to be about a week old," said Billy Dill. "The question is, where did the crowd go to from here?"

"Maybe there were some Americans with those natives in that canoe," suggested Roger.

"In that case, the natives must be friendly," returned Phil.

They walked around the locality and down the shore half a mile further, but could find nothing more of interest. Then they sat down to enjoy the lunch they had brought, washing the meal down at a spring, close by where the campfire had been.

"It is wonderful that fresh water should be so close to the salt," observed the senator's son. "You'd think it would all get salt."

"Nature knew man wanted fresh water, and so it was placed there," replied Billy Dill. "Trust a kind Providence to take care on us every time."

After the meal the party set off for the opposite shore of the island, over a small hill which divided one end from the other. Here the jungle was so thick they had to literally force their way through, and each of the boys got his clothing torn more or less. Once the old tar became so completely fastened that the lads had to go to his assistance and cut him loose with their pocket-knives.

"I'm jest about anchored!" remarked Billy Dill. "This is worse nor the Sargasso Sea, ain't it?"

By the middle of the afternoon they gained the opposite shore of the island. Here the ground was very rough, but at one spot they found the remains of a village – two houses of logs and half a dozen thatched huts. The houses and huts were bare, and nothing of interest was to be found around the remains of half a dozen campfires.