"Now, what I want to know," said Jack, "is what sort of fish this is, which side of him belongs on top, and what use he makes of this match-lighter."
"I'm afraid I can't help you much," said Ned. "A year ago I would have told you at once that the fish is a shark's pilot, so called because he follows ships as sharks do, and the sailors think he acts as a pilot for the sharks. But now I don't know what to call it."
"Why not?" asked Charley.
"Because I don't know. I've been reading up in the cyclopædias and natural histories and ichthyologies about our fishes down here, and have found out that whatever I know isn't so."
"Why, how's that?"
"Well, take the whiting, for example. When I began reading up to see if there was any sort of cousinship between him and the dolphin, I soon found that the whiting isn't a whiting at all, but I couldn't find out any thing else about him. The whiting described in the books is a sort of codfish's cousin, and he lives only at the North. Neither the pictures nor the descriptions of him at all resemble our whiting, so I don't know what sort of fish our whiting is. I only know that he isn't a whiting, and isn't the remotest relation to the dolphin, because he is a fish and has scales, while the dolphin is a cetacean."
"What's a cetacean?" asked Charley.
"A vertebrated, mammiferous marine animal."
"Well; go on; English all that."
"Well, whales, dolphins narwhals, and porpoises are the principal cetaceans. They are not fish, but marine animals, and they suckle their young."
"Well, that's news to me," said Charley.
"Now, then," said Jack, "if you two have finished your little side discussion, suppose we come back to the subject in hand. What do you know, Ned, about this fish that I have in my hand, and why don't you call him a shark's pilot now, as you say you did a year ago?"
"Why, because the books treat me the same way in his case that they do in the whiting's. They describe a shark's pilot which is as different from this as a whale is from a heifer calf, and so I don't know what to call this fellow. Did he make a fight when you caught him?"
"Indeed he did. I was sure I had a twenty-pound something or other on my hook, and when I pulled up this insignificant little creature, with the match box on his head, I was disgusted. I looked at him to see if he hadn't a steam-engine somewhere about him, because he pulled so hard, and that's what made me observe his match box and his curious up-side-down-itiveness."
"I say, Ned," said Charley, "why is it that our Southern fishes are so neglected in the books?"
"Well, I've asked myself that question, and the only answer I can think of is this: in the first place, there is no great commercial interest in fishing here as there is at the North; and then the natural history books and the cyclopædias are all written at the North or in Europe, and so there are thousands of curious fish down here which are not mentioned. There's the pin-cushion fish, for example. I can't find a trace of that curious creature in any of the books."
"What sort of thing is a pin-cushion fish?" asked Jack.
"He's simply a hollow sphere, a globular bag about twice the size of a walnut, and as round as a base ball."
"Half transparent, is he? Red, shaded off into white? with water inside of him, and pimples, like pin-heads, all over him, and eyes and mouth right on his fair rotundity, making him look like a picture of the full moon made into a human face?" asked Jack eagerly.
"Yes, that's the pin-cushion fish."
"I thought so. That's my other one," said Jack.
"What do you mean?" asked Ned.
"Why, that's the other thing I had to show you, but couldn't find. I caught him with the cast net."
"And kept him to show to me?" asked Ned.
"Yes, but he disappeared."
"Of course he did. He spat himself away."
"How's that?"
"Why, if you take a pin-cushion fish out of the water, and put him down on a board, he'll sit there looking like a judge for a little while; then he'll begin to spit, and when he spits all the water out, there's nothing left of him except a small lump of jelly. They're very curious things. I wish we had a good popular book about our Southern fishes and the curious things that live in the water here on the coast."
"Don't you suppose these things are represented at all in scientific books?" asked Jack.
"I suppose that many of them are, but many of them are not, and those that are described, are described by names that we know nothing about, and so only a naturalist could find the descriptions or recognize them when found. With all Northern fishes that are familiarly known, the case is different. If a Northern boy wants to find out more than he knows already about a codfish, he looks for the information under the familiar name 'Codfish,' and finds it there. He does not need to know in advance that the cod is a fish of theGadusfamily, and theMorrhua vulgarisspecies. So, when he wants to know about the whiting that he is familiar with, he finds the information under the name whiting; but the scientific men who wrote the books, however much they may know about the fish that we call whiting, do not know, I suppose, that it is anywhere called whiting, and so they don't put the information about it under that head. They only come down South as far as New Jersey, and tell about a species of fish which is there called whiting, though it isn't the real whiting. If they had known that still another and a very different fish goes by that name down here, they would have told us about that too, in the same way."
"What's the remedy?" asked Charley.
"For you, or Jack, or me," answered Ned, "to study science, and to make a specialty of our Southern fishes. When we do that and give the world all the information we can get by really intelligent observation, all the scientific writers will welcome the addition made to the general store of knowledge. That is the way it has all been found out."
"Why can't we begin now?"
"Because we haven't learned how to observe. We don't know enough of general principles to be able to understand what we see. Let's form habits of observation, and let's study science systematically; after that we can observe intelligently, and make a real contribution to knowledge."
"You're not going to write your book on the Marine Fauna of the Southern States to-night, are you?" asked Jack.
"No, certainly not," said Ned, with a laugh at his own enthusiasm.
"Then let's go to bed; I'm sleepy," said Jack.
The three tired boys went to sleep easily enough, and the snoring inside their hut gave fair promise of a late waking the next day. But before long Jack became restless in his sleep, and began to toss about a good deal. Charley seemed to catch his restlessness, and presently he sat up in the bunk and began to slap himself. This thoroughly aroused him, and as Jack and Ned were tossing about uneasily he had no scruple in speaking to them.
"I say, fellows, we're attacked."
"What's the matter?" muttered Ned, at the same time beginning to rub himself vigorously, first on one part of the body, then on another.
"Mosquitoes," said Jack, violently rubbing his scalp.
"Worse than mosquitoes," said Charley; "they feel more like yellow jackets or hornets, I should say; and they're inside our clothes too."
"Whew!" exclaimed Ned, leaping out of the bunk, "I didn't think of that."
"What is it?" asked both the other boys in a breath.
"A swarm of sand-flies."
"Sand-flies! what are they?" asked Jack.
"Wait, and I'll show you," replied Ned, going out and stirring up the fire so as to make a light. Meantime the boys rubbed and writhed and turned themselves about in something like agony, for, though they suffered no severe pain at any one spot, their whole bodies seemed to be covered with red pepper. Every inch of their skins was inflamed, and the more they rubbed the worse the irritation became.
When Ned had made a bright light, he showed his companions what their tormentors were. Jack and Charley saw some very minute flying insects—true flies indeed—not much larger than the points of pins. There were millions of the creatures. The whole air seemed full of them indeed, and wherever one rested for a moment upon the skin of its victim, there was at once a pricking sensation, followed by the intolerable burning and irritation already mentioned.
Charley was at first incredulous. "You don't mean to tell me," he said, "that those little gnats have done all this."
"Yes, I do," answered Ned, "and more than that, I have known them to kill a horse, tormenting him to death in a few hours. They'll get under a horse's hair by millions and literally cover him, until you can see the hair move with them. But they are not gnats."
"But, see here, Ned," said Jack; "when I barely touch one of the creatures, it not only kills him but distributes him pretty evenly over the surrounding surface. They haven't strength enough to hang together."
"Yes, I know," replied Ned; "what of that?"
"Why, how can such things bite so? and especially how can they force their way through our blankets and clothes? I should think they'd tear themselves to pieces in the attempt."
"So should I, if I didn't know better; but as a matter of fact they do manage to get through without dulling their teeth, as we have proof."
"Have the creatures teeth?" asked Charley.
"No, of course not; but they have a sort of rasping apparatus which is just as bad. They have an acrid kind of saliva too, which they put into the wounds they make, and that is what smarts so. But come, this won't do. We must make a good smudge."
"What's a smudge?" asked Jack.
"I'll show you presently," answered Ned, while he began to build a small fire immediately in front of the tent. When it had burned a little, he smothered it with damp leaves and moss, so that it gave off a dense cloud of smoke which quickly filled the hut.
"Now the tent will soon be clear of them," said Ned.
"Sand-flies object to smoke, I suppose," said Jack.
"Very much indeed," answered Ned, "and it is customary here on the coast to have a pair of smudge boxes in front of every house."
"I don't blame them for objecting," grumbled Charley, coughing and wiping his smoke-inflamed eyes; "I can't say that I find smoke the most delightful atmosphere myself. But what is a 'smudge box,' Ned?"
"Simply a shallow box of earth set upon a post, to build a smudge upon."
"I say, Ned," asked Jack, "what do you mean by saying that sand-flies aren't gnats?"
"Simply that they aren't," said Ned.
"What are they, then?"
"Flies."
"Well, what is a small fly but a gnat?"
"And what is a gnat but a small fly?" added Charley.
"The two are not at all the same thing," answered Ned. "That is a popular mistake. I have heard people say they could stand mosquitoes, but couldn't endure gnats; and yet the mosquito is a gnat, and what these people call gnats are not gnats at all, but simply small flies."
"What constitutes the exact difference?"
"The shape of the body. All flies are two-winged insects, and gnats are flies in that sense, of course; but gnats are those flies that have long bodies behind their wings, to balance themselves with. Mosquitoes are our best example of them. These sand flies, you see, have very short bodies."
"Yes, but very long bills, I fancy," said Charley.
"Well," said Jack, "all that is news to me."
"I suppose it is. Most people think a whale is a fish, too, but for all that it is nothing of the kind. What are you doing, Charley?"
"Tossing up heads or tails for it," answered Charley, who had left the tent and gone to the large fire.
"Tossing up for what?"
"To determine the method and manner of my death," answered Charley, with profound gravity. "If I stay in the hut I shall die of suffocation in the smoke, and if I stay out here the sand flies will kill me. I can't quite make up my mind which death I prefer, so I'm tossing up for it."
"Good! there's a breeze," said Ned; "if it rises it'll relieve you of the necessity of choosing."
"How? By blowing the smoke away, and so giving the sand flies a fair field?"
"No; by blowing the sand flies away; they can't stand much of a breeze. It is coming up, too, and we shall get some sleep after all."
The breeze did indeed rise after a time, but the dawn was almost upon them before the boys really slept again, so severely were their skins irritated by their small enemies.
They had learned a lesson, however, and during the rest of their stay on the island they never neglected to make a smudge in front of the hut before attempting to sleep. It was not often that the sand flies appeared in such numbers as on this night, and hence it was not often necessary to fill the tent too full of smoke for comfort.
The first care of the boys the next morning was to dig their well. This was a comparatively trifling task, as they had only to dig four or five feet through soft alluvial soil and sand. Instead of making perpendicular sides to their well, they dug it out in the shape of a bowl, so that they could walk down to the water and dip it up as they needed it.
Having a hut to live in and a well from which to get fresh water, they were now free to begin the sport for which they had come to the island. They went fishing first, of course, that being the obvious thing to do, but after a few hours of this the tide became too full, and the fish ceased to bite satisfactorily.
"Let's crusoe a little," said Jack, winding up his line.
"In what particular way?" asked Ned.
"Why, let's sail around our domain and see how the island looks on its other sides. Perhaps we may discover the savages, or find some game."
"A good idea; but we must go back to camp first, to leave our fish and get the gun and the sail; and while we're there we'd better get some dinner."
So said, so done. Dinner was very hastily dispatched, as the boys were anxious to get off, in order that the circuit of the island might be completed before night.
"It looks like rain," said Ned, as he shook out the sail, "but we don't mind a wetting."
There was a good breeze, and the boat bounded away, rocking a good deal, for the wind had been blowing all day, and there was more sea on than was usual in those quiet waters. Ned let the centre-board down, which steadied the boat somewhat, and enabled her to carry her sail without danger. The plan was to coast along about half a mile off shore in order that the island might be seen to good advantage; but as the eastern shore was reached the sea became heavier, and the roar of the surf on shore warned Ned of broad sands upon that side.
"I've got to make more offing here," he said.
"What do you mean by that? turn it into English," said Charley Black, who persistently refused to understand any thing that sounded like a nautical term.
"Well, I mean I've got to sail farther away from the shore."
"'Cause why?" asked Jack.
"Because of two things," replied Ned. "In the first place the sea comes in between those two islands over there, and has a fair sweep at about half a mile of our island's coast, and so for the next half mile we shall have some pretty rough water, and I prefer to be well off shore."
"I should think you'd prefer to be close inshore if there's danger. Then if any thing happens we can land."
"That's all you know about it," said Ned. "I don't think there's the least danger, so long as we keep off shore, because this boat, with her centre-board down, is seaworthy; but as she isn't beach-worthy—and no vessel is that—I don't want to get her upon a beach. That brings me to my second reason. I want to take a good offing, because by the way the surf roars here, and by the look of it, I judge that there's a long sandy beach running out from this part of the island, and I don't want to risk getting into too shallow water."
"But why couldn't we land if there were danger?" asked Jack Farnsworth. "If I had the helm that would be the first thing I'd try to do."
"So should I if I had a harbor to run into," replied Ned. "But don't you see that if we ran upon a sandy beach when there was a sea on, we should soon come to a place where there wouldn't be water enough except as a wave came in? Then the boat would be lifted up by every wave, and suddenly dropped upon the hard sand, and I can tell you she wouldn't stand much of that. Did you never notice that nearly all shipwrecks occur along shore?"
"Yes, that's true," replied Jack. "Ships that come to grief nearly always run on breakers or something; but I never thought of it before."
By this time Ned had secured at least a mile of offing but the sea grew every moment heavier. The wind had risen to half a gale, and in spite of the close reefing of the sail the boat lay far over and Ned directed his companions to "trim ship" by sitting upon the gunwale.
Jack Farnsworth soon discovered that Ned was becoming anxious. He quietly said:
"You suspect danger, Ned?"
"Oh, no," replied Ned, "at least I think not."
"Yes you do. I see it in your face. Now I want to say at once that whatever the danger is, we can only increase it by losing our wits. The important thing is for you to keep perfectly cool, because you know more than we do about sailing. Then you can tell us what to do, if there's any thing."
"Thank you," said Ned; "the fact is this: I think by the look of the horizon out there at sea, that we are likely to have a squall—that is, a sudden and very violent blow, added to the steadier wind that blows now. If we can run across this open space before it comes, we'll be all right under the lee of that island over there, and if no squall comes we're safe enough even here, because the boat is seaworthy. But a knock-over squall might capsize us. It's coming, too—let go the sheet—cut it—any thing!"
As he said, or rather shouted this, Ned tried to head the boat to the wind, while Jack and Charley let go the sheet, and thus set the sail free. If the squall had struck the boat with the sheet fastened and the sail thus held in position, theRed Birdwould have capsized instantly; but with the sail swinging freely, less resistance was offered, and Ned expected in this way to avoid a catastrophe. He headed the boat to the wind, which was the best thing to do.
The squall struck just as the sail swung free, but before theRed Birdcould be brought completely around.
It seemed to the boys that the boat had been struck violently by a solid ball of some kind, so sharply did the squall come upon it. Having her head almost to the wind, she reared like a horse, swung around, and very nearly rolled over, but she did not quite capsize. The mast, however, snapped short off, and the sail fell over into the water, being held fast to the boat only by the guys.
"Cut the guys, Jack," cried Ned, "or that sail will swamp us! There! now all sit down in the bottom of the boat; no, no, Charley, not on the thwart, but on the bottom!"
Ned had to shriek these orders to be heard above the roar of the squall, which had not yet subsided. He knew that the immediate danger now was that the boat might turn over, and to prevent this, he ordered his companions to sit upon the bottom, as he himself did, in order that their weight might be where it would best serve as ballast.
This brought the three very nearly together, so that they could speak to each other without shouting quite at the top of their voices.
"Well, Ned?" said Charley Black.
"Well," replied Ned, "we shan't capsize now. That danger is over; but there's another before us that is just as bad."
"What is it?" asked Charley.
"And what shall we do toward meeting it?" asked Jack, whose superb calmness and manly resolution to look things in the face and to make fight against danger won Ned's heart.
"We're being driven at railroad speed upon the beach," answered Ned, "and we'll strike pretty soon. We've already lost the oars, and we couldn't use them if we had them in this sea; so we have nothing to do but wait. When we strike, the boat will be mashed into kindling wood. Every thing depends then upon where we strike. If it is far from shore the big waves will beat us to a jelly on the sand. Our only chance will be, as soon as the boat strikes, to catch the next wave, swimming with it toward shore, taking care, when it recedes, to light on our feet, and then run with all our might up the sand. If we can get inside the break of the surf before the next wave catches us we're safe; but that's the only chance. Every thing depends now on where we strike."
"Boots off," cried Jack; "we may have to swim."
Ned and Charley accepted the suggestion. All now anxiously scanned the shore, which seemed to be coming toward them at a tremendous speed. Suddenly Ned cried out:
"There's a reef just ahead; when we strike try to cross it into the stiller water."
At that moment it seemed as if the sandy reef had suddenly shot up from below, striking the bottom of the boat as a trip-hammer might, and shivering it into fragments. What had really happened was this: the boat, driving forward on the crest of a wave, had been carried to a point immediately over the sand ridge or reef, and there suddenly dropped by the receding of the wave. It had struck the sandy bottom with sufficient violence to crush its sides and bottom into a shapeless mass.
The boys were wellnigh stunned by the blow, but rallying quickly they ran forward in water only a few inches deep, and before the next incoming wave struck, they had crossed the narrow sand reef, and plunged into the deep, but comparatively still water that lay inside. The surf was broken, of course, upon the reef, and although the waves passed completely over it, their force was expended upon it, so that inside the barrier the boys found the water disturbed by nothing more than a swell. The distance to the shore was small, and they soon swam it, pulling themselves out on the sand, drenched, bare-headed, bootless, and weary beyond expression, not so much from exertion as from the strain through which their brains and nerves had passed.
The first thing to be done was to rest. Utterly exhausted, the lads dragged themselves a few feet from the water and threw themselves down upon the sand, thinking of nothing and caring for nothing except to lie still. The squall had passed away as quickly as it had come, and although a stiff breeze was still blowing the afternoon sun beating down upon them warmed as well as dried them rapidly. Jack Farnsworth was the first to recover his wits.
"I say, fellows, this won't do," he said, raising himself to a sitting posture. "The day is waning and we've got to get back to our camp before night."
Ned and Charley tried to rise. Ned accomplished the feat, but poor Charley found it impossible.
"Why, boys," he said, sinking back upon the sand, "I'm all of a tremble; I don't know what's the matter."
"Reaction," said Ned.
"What's that?"
"Why, under all that excitement you kept your strength up by a tremendous effort, and now you're paying the bill you owe your nerves."
"But I'm sure I didn't tremble when we were in danger."
"No, because you wouldn't give way then. Your will was master. It ordered your nerves to furnish strength enough to keep still, and commanded your muscles to do what was necessary to get you safe ashore. They obeyed, and now your will is in their debt. It took more than was due, and your nerves and muscles have presented their bill. They are bullying your will in return for the bullying it gave them a little while ago. That's the way my father explained it to me once when I trembled after a big scare. Only lie still awhile and you'll come round. I was as weak as water five minutes ago, but I'm getting my strength back again now."
"'As weak as water,'" said Jack Farnsworth meditatively. "I used to think that a good comparison, but I've altered my opinion. Water is the strongest thing I know."
"How is that?" asked Ned.
"Why, think how it picked theRed Birdup and flung her down on the sand like an angry giant—but with ten thousand times a giant's strength! And it picks great ships up in the same way and dashes them to pieces as I might do with an egg-shell or a China cup. Water is a giant, a demon of angry strength. I shall never think of it again as a thing of weakness. It means infinite power to me now."
"Poor oldRed Bird!" said Ned; "there are her bones!"
There indeed lay what was left of the boat, where it had been drifted upon the sands by the swell. The tide, which had now begun to run out, had left the wreck "high and dry," and instinctively the boys went to look at it, Charley managing now to stagger forward slowly.
The wreck was a mass of timbers, ribs, and planking, looking like a boat that has been crushed flat under some enormous weight.
"What kept her from going all to bits?" asked Charley.
"Her copper bolts," answered Ned. "You see, she was particularly well built. There wasn't a nail in her. From stem to stern all the fastenings were of copper, and copper is so tough that no ordinary wrenching will break it. It bends instead. But if we had simply run upon a beach in that sea, even copper bolts wouldn't have held the pieces together. Every wave would have lifted the wreck up and dashed it down on the sand until the planks and ribs were beaten into bits. As it is, theRed Birdstruck only once. The next wave that came lifted her up and carried her clear across the reef into deep water before it dropped her, and so she received only that one blow. Once inside the reef, she drifted with the swell toward shore. She is an utter wreck though, and will never sail again."
There was a melancholy tone in the boy's voice as he said this, for he had sailed in this boat many and many a time, and had come to love her as if she had been a live thing.
"I'll tell you what, boys," said Jack; "we've got to start toward camp. It won't do to be caught out to-night without supper or fire. Weary and soaked as we are, we shall be sick if we don't get something to eat and a fire to sleep by. Let's get a vine and tie the wreck here so that it can't drift away with the next tide, and then be off at once. It's nearly sunset."
When the "bones" of the boat were well secured, the boys set out; Charley having recovered his strength somewhat, they walked at a good pace along the shore, and reached camp just at dark. Building a large fire they soon had a hearty supper, with plenty of hot coffee, and when supper was done, they gladly put themselves to bed, aching a good deal from exhaustion, but really unharmed by their adventure.
Jack was the first to wake the next morning, but he did not get up immediately. He lay still, evidently thinking. After a while he arose quietly and, before dressing himself, made an examination of the stores of food on hand. Finally he roused his companions, and the three took a dip into the water.
"Now," said Jack, when all were seated at breakfast, "I want you boys to help me think a little, and you, Ned, to answer some questions."
"All right," said Ned, "I'm thinking already."
"What are you thinking?" asked Charley.
"That these fish aren't as fresh as they might be; so I'm going fishing before dinner."
"What in?" asked Jack.
"That's a fact," said Ned and Charley in a breath. "We haven't a boat now."
"No," said Jack. "We have no boat, and that's what I want to think about. How far is it to Bluffton, Ned?"
"About twelve miles."
"Is that the nearest point on the mainland?"
"Yes."
"Then we've got to stay here till we can build a boat with such tools and materials as we have, if we can do it at all," said Jack.
"We can't do it," said Ned, with a look of consternation on his face; "we lack nearly every thing. We haven't even the plank!"
"Now don't let's become demoralized," said Jack, who, ever since the accident of the day before, had been the leading spirit of the party. "We must keep our wits about us and lay our plans intelligently. But first of all we must look the facts in the face. We are on a deserted island twelve miles from the mainland, without a boat. We must stay here until we can make arrangements of some kind for getting away, and that will be a good deal longer than we thought of staying when we came, for I don't suppose you meant it, Ned, when you told Maum Sally that we'd be gone a month."
"No, I hadn't a thought of staying more than a few days, or a week at most. We didn't bring enough provisions to last for more than a week."
"That is what I was coming to," said Jack. "I've been looking over our stores this morning. We've got to face the fact that we haven't nearly enough, and we must use what we have judiciously, taking great care to add other things as we can. Unluckily we lost our best friend when the gun went down in the wreck of theRed Bird. We can't hunt, but must depend upon other sources of supply. I suppose, Ned, there's very little to be done fishing from the shore?"
"Nothing at all, I imagine," replied Ned; "but I may possibly catch a few mullets with the cast net. You see mullets run up into little bays to feed, and we sometimes go after them with the net, especially at night. Then I can catch shrimps and some few crabs, and I suppose we shall find an oyster bank somewhere."
"Yes," said Jack, "I suppose we can manage somehow to get enough food; the trouble will be to get variety enough. Shrimps and crabs and oysters and fish are good food, but one doesn't want to make them an exclusive diet. For health we must have variety."
"That is true," said Ned, "and our greatest trouble will be about bread. We haven't flour or rice or sweet potatoes enough to last more than a few days."
"No," said Jack, "and we have nothing to substitute for them. We must have everything of the vegetable kind that we can get. Now what is there? I don't know, and can't think of a thing."
"There are several things," said Ned, "such as they are."
"Well, we'll hunt for them. What are they?" asked Jack.
"There may possibly be wild sweet potatoes somewhere on the island, though that is doubtful. The soft parts of most roots are edible; there are plenty of wild grapes in the woods, I suppose, and for a good substantial vegetable, we can eat an occasional dish of algæ."
"What's that?"
"'What are they,' you should say; noun of the first declension,—alga, algæ, algæ, algam, etc.,—so algæ is the nominative plural."
"Oh, stop the declension—we have enough of that at school—and tell us what algæ are," said Charley.
"Sea-weeds. There are a great variety of them, and many kinds are eaten in different parts of the world. They are all harmless and more or less nutritious. We can try the different sorts that come ashore here and use the best that we can get."
"Shall we boil them?" asked Jack.
"I don't know. We'll try that and see, at any rate."
"All right. Now we must manage each day to get as much food, of one kind and another, as we eat; it won't do to run short and trust to the future. We must save our flour and bacon for special occasions and as a reserve to fall back upon if at any time the supplies of other food fail us. We must keep our coffee, too, for use in case of sickness, or a bad drenching in a cold rain. There may be times when we shall need it badly, and so we must do without it now. I think we shall get on pretty well for several weeks, and by that time I hope we shall be ready to leave the island."
"How?"
"Well, I've a plan, but I'm not sure about it yet. I thought of it yesterday, just after we came ashore. You two see what you can do toward getting some food, while I go off to inspect and lay my plans. When I come back I'll tell you about them."
When Jack departed without telling his companions what he meant to do, Ned and Charley went up the shore with the cast net, and managed, within an hour or two, to secure a good supply of shrimps, one or two mullets, and a few oysters, though they discovered no oyster bed, as they had expected to do. They hoped to accomplish this by a longer journey along the shore, to be made on some other day. Having enough fish and shrimps for immediate use, they wished now to see what could be done toward securing a supply of vegetable food. They discovered no palmetto trees, but gave their attention to the wild grapes, of which there were a good many in the woods.
It was well past mid-day when Ned and Charley, loaded with their spoils of sea and land, returned to the camp. There they found Jack, sitting on a log meditating.
"Boys," he said, "the important thing is not to let any thing discourage us. We must keep a stiff upper lip, no matter what happens."
"Yes, certainly," said Charley, "but what's the special occasion of this lecture?"
"You are sure that no matter what happens, you'll not give up, or grow scared, or get excited in any way?" asked Jack.
"Well, I must say—" began Charley.
"Hush, Charley," said Ned; "something's wrong. Let's hear what Jack has to say."
"What is it, Jack? Tell us quick."
"Well, only that we're out of food."
"What do you mean?"
"Why, that some animal or other has robbed us while we were all away from camp! Every thing's gone, even to the box of salt and the coffee. We haven't a thing to eat except what you've brought with you."
To say that the boys were shocked and distressed by their new mishap, is very feebly to express their state of mind. There was consternation in the camp, from which Jack alone partially escaped. Jack had an uncommonly cool head. In ordinary circumstances there was nothing whatever to distinguish him from other boys. He rushed into difficulties as recklessly as anybody—as he did on the first day when he tried to use the cast net,—and joined in all sports and boyish enterprises with as little thought as boys usually show. But in real difficulty Jack Farnsworth was seen in a new light. He was calm, thoughtful, resolute, and full of resource. Ned had his first hint of this during that last voyage of theRed Bird, and as their difficulties multiplied both Ned and Charley learned to look upon Jack as their leader. They turned to him now precisely as if he had been much older than themselves, and asked:
"What on earth are we to do, Jack?"
"First of all," Jack replied, "we are to keep perfectly cool. Excitement will not only keep us from doing the best that we can, but it will weaken us and unfit us for work, even if it doesn't bring on actual sickness, which it may do. Care killed a cat, you know. We positively must not get excited. After all, what occasion for uneasiness is there? We are pretty genuine Crusoes now, but we can stand that. We are literally wrecked upon a deserted island. We have lost our boat and our boots, our hats, our gun and our supply of provisions, and so we are not quite so well situated as Robinson Crusoe was; but on the other hand we're not going to stay here year after year as he did, and besides there are three of us to keep each other company."
"Well, company's good, of course," said Charley Black, "but I'm not so sure on the other points."
"How do you mean?" asked Ned.
"I'm not so sure about our getting away sooner than Crusoe did. I don't see how we're to get away at all for that matter, but may be somebody will rescue us after twenty-eight years or so."
"Well, if they do," said Ned, "won't it be jolly fun to go back to school then, with long whiskers, and make old Bingham take us through the rest of Cæsar!"
Ned was naturally buoyant in spirits, and the spice of difficulty and danger in their situation had now begun to stimulate his gayety instead of depressing him. He was of too hopeful a nature to believe that their enforced stay upon the island was likely to be very greatly prolonged, although, if put to the proof, he had no more notion than Charley Black had, of a possible means of escape.
"Yes," answered Jack Farnsworth, "and after that length of time we'll have a lot of things to learn besides Latin. We'll have to study geography all over again to find out how many States there are in the Union, and whether France has swallowed Germany, or Russia has conquered England and moved her capital to London. Then, again, Ned, your science will be out of date, and you won't dare to mention oxygen even, for fear that somebody has found long ago that there isn't any such thing as oxygen. We'll be regular Rip Van Winkles. Who knows? Perhaps we shall find the United States turned into an empire, and steam-engines forgotten, and electricity, or something that we've never heard of, doing the world's work. On the whole, I think if we stay here twenty-eight years, it will be better not to leave the island at all."
The banter between Ned and Jack was kept up in this way for some time, Ned talking for fun merely, while Jack talked for the purpose of overcoming poor Charley's evident depression of spirits. Finally Jack said:
"But we're not going to be Rip Van Winkles or even Crusoes very long. We'll have our lark out and then go back home in time for school—say about three weeks or a month hence, keeping Ned's appointment with Maum Sally."
"But how on earth are we to get back?" asked Charley.
"In a boat, to be sure; we can't walk twelve miles on the water," answered Jack, "particularly now that we're barefooted. We'd get our feet wet, without a doubt."
"Where are we to get a boat?"
"Well, that is what I've been thinking about," said Jack, "and I think I've worked the problem out."
"All right, what's the answer?" asked Ned.
"Why, that we must rebuild theRed Bird."
"How can we? She is mashed into kindling wood," said Charley.
"No, not quite," answered Jack. "She is badly mashed, certainly, but it's simply mashing. I have been to look at her. She lies there as flat as if a steam-ship had sat down upon her, but I have carefully examined every stick of her timber, and while theRed Birdis no more a boat than a lumber pile is a house, still she is a pretty good pile of lumber. Comparatively few of her planks are badly split or broken, while her ribs seem to be broken only in one or two places each. After examining her very carefully I am satisfied that her timbers will furnish us enough material for a new boat. We must build a smaller boat out of her bones—particularly a shorter boat. She was twenty-four feet long, and by shortening her in the middle—that is, by leaving out the middle ribs—we shall have enough planking to make a new boat. Patching up the ribs will be the most difficult job, but I think we can manage it. Most of the planks are broken in two, but we can join the ends on ribs, and, if we are patient, we can make a pretty good boat. Patience is the one thing needful, especially for inexperienced workmen with a scanty supply of tools. We must make good joints if we have to work a week over the joining of two boards."
"What are we to do for nails?" asked Ned; "we haven't more than a pound or two here."
"We haven't a single nail," said Jack; "the wild animal, whatever it was, that robbed us, seems to have had a very miscellaneous appetite. It not only took our flour and bacon, our salt and our coffee and sugar; it seems to have had an appetite for nails and blankets too. At any rate, it stole them all, but luckily it didn't find the tools, because you had the hatchet with you, and I had the axe."
"The mischief!" exclaimed Ned.
"Yes, it's mischief enough for that matter, but it might have been worse. I suppose some rascals landed here while we were away and robbed us. Of course it couldn't have been an animal, although that was my first thought when I found the provisions gone. Whoever it was he isn't likely to come again, but we must watch our camp now, and particularly we must take care of our tools."
"But you haven't answered my question about nails," said Ned.
"We must make them of theRed Bird'scopper bolts," answered Jack; "and if we run short we can use wooden pins; but I think there is an abundance of the copper. Luckily the anchor came ashore entangled in the wreck, and that will serve us for an anvil. We can hammer the bolts into nails, using the hatchet for a hammer. It will be slow work, because while the hatchet is in use making nails we can't use it in building the boat."
"I'll tell you what," said Charley, whose spirits began now to revive; "we'll work hard of nights making nails, and have them ready for the next day."
"Yes, and we shan't want any nails for a day or two, while we're making preparations to begin, and so we can get a good supply in advance."
"That's so," said Ned; "but do you know we're wasting precious time? It is nearly sundown, and we have a lot to do before we go to bed. We haven't thought of dinner yet, and we can't now till after our work is done. We must bring the wreck around here to-night. The fellow that robbed our camp was probably some negro squatter from some of the islands around us, and if he got sight of the wreck on his way back, he is sure to come over and carry away all that is valuable of theRed Bird'sbones to-night. We must get ahead of him, and bring the wreck around to the camp the first thing we do."
This suggestion commended itself to Ned's companions, and the boys set off at once, taking the axe and hatchet with them.
When they arrived at the wreck the tide was very nearly full, so that there was not much difficulty in getting the remains of theRed Birdafloat. It was a mere raft of plank and timbers, of course, which must be dragged through the water along the shore by means of the anchor rope and some wild vines cut in the woods. For a time the still incoming tide was in their favor, and they travelled the first half mile pretty rapidly. When the tide turned, however, the labor became very severe, and it was ten o'clock at night when the wreck of theRed Birdwas safely landed at the camp. The boys were exhausted with work, and very hungry. Ned stirred up the fire and put on a kettle of salt water, into which, as soon as it boiled, he poured a quart or two of shrimps.
"We'll make a shrimp dinner to-night," he said, "and that will leave us the mullets and wild grapes for breakfast."
"All right," answered Jack; "I'm hungry enough not to care for variety to-night; speed is the word just now."
Dinner over, the boys had still to collect a large mass of the long gray moss to serve instead of the stolen blankets, so that it was quite midnight when they finally got to sleep.
"How shall we cook our fish, Ned?" asked Charley, the next morning. He had already thrown wood upon the embers when Ned and Jack came out of the hut.
"We must roast them," said Ned, "now that we have no bacon to fry them with. We can broil sometimes and roast sometimes, for variety. Without butter broiled fish are rather dry. I'll be cook this morning, and show you how to roast small fish."
With that he went to the beach and walked along the water's edge till he found a bunch of clean, wet sea-weed. Returning to the fire, he carefully wrapped the mullets in this, and placed them in the hot ashes, covering them with live coals to a depth of several inches. Half an hour later he took them carefully out of their wrappings, and placed them on the log that did duty for a table.
The fish were beautifully done, and looked as tempting as possible, but, upon tasting them, a look of consternation came over Jack's countenance.
"I never thought of that," said Jack, "but we are out of salt! What shall we do? We can't live altogether on shrimps and oysters; and fish without salt is a difficult dish to eat."
"We must make some salt," said Ned.
"Out of the sea-water?" asked Charley.
"Yes. It is slow work, and without clarifying materials we'll get a rather black product, but it will be salt for all that."
"What will make it black?" asked Jack.
"Impurities. The sea-water is filled with various things—common salt, mostly, of course, but there are Glauber's salts, Epsom salts, magnesia, and many other things, including salts of silver and iron. In making salt out of sea-water, these impurities must be got rid of, or the salt will be of a dirty brownish color. We can't clarify it, but we can use it very well for all our purposes. We'll have to put up with a poor breakfast, but we'll do better by night. I'll start our salt-works immediately after breakfast, and then I'll leave Charley in charge of the business, because I have an idea of my own that I want to carry out. We must devote ourselves to-day exclusively to the business of getting food, I suppose."
"Yes, that is the first thing to be done. We are at the starvation point and must get something to eat before we begin on the boat. What is the plan that you speak of?"
"I shan't tell you, because it may come to nothing, though I'm hopeful."
"All right, I hope it will turn out well. Meantime, I'll take the cast net and get some shrimps and possibly some fish, and then if I had any thing to bait with, I would set some rabbit traps or something of that sort. But I haven't, and so I can't. Charley can carry on the salt-works while you do whatever it is you mean to do."
The salt-works consisted of nothing more than the kettle. Filling this with clear sea-water, Ned set it to boil, saying:
"Now, Charley, as it boils down add more water, and toward night we can stop adding water and let the salt settle. It will begin to settle before that time, and when it does you can dip the wet salt up from the bottom and spread it out on a plank to dry."
"All right. I'll make a dipper out of a tin cup by fastening a stick to it for a handle. But what makes the salt settle?"
"Why, don't you see? You can only dissolve a certain amount of salt in a certain amount of water; if you put more in it sinks to the bottom, being heavier than water, and stays there. When a liquid has as much of any thing dissolved in it as it can hold, it is said to be saturated; we call it a saturated solution. Now when you boil sea-water it evaporates, and the quantity of water steadily decreases. After awhile so much of the water is evaporated that we have a saturated solution, and then if you evaporate half a pint more of it the salt that a half pint of water can hold in solution must settle to the bottom. It is a curious fact that water which is saturated with one substance, so that it can not hold any more of it, is still capable of dissolving other substances and holding them in solution. Sometimes, in making salt, men take advantage of that fact."
"How?" asked Jack, who had become interested in Ned's explanation.
"Why, by washing out the impurities of the salt with salt water. Having a quantity of impure salt they put it into a funnel-shaped vessel with a small hole in the bottom; then they take clear water and pure salt and make a saturated solution of that; this water cannot dissolve any more salt, but it is still capable of dissolving the other substances which constitute impurities; so it is poured into the vessel that contains the impure salt, and as it passes through it dissolves and carries off the impurities, but doesn't dissolve any of the salt."
"Why can't we purify our salt in that way?" asked Charley.
"Because we have no pure salt with which to make the solution."
"That's so, but I didn't think of it. I wish I knew as much as you do about such things."
"I don't know much," answered Ned. "I have always been curious to know facts of the sort, and my father has encouraged me to find them out. I ask questions and read what books I can on such subjects; but I learn most by looking and thinking for myself. Still I know very little about scientific matters; really I do. But we're wasting time; I must be off and so must you, Jack. Keep the salt kettle boiling, Charley, and don't forget to add water to it from time to time. When you pour cold water in you can skim the scum off, and in that way you'll get rid of a good deal of impurity."
With that the boys separated. Jack went down along the shore, with the cast-net in his hand; while Ned struck off into the woods with the coffee-pot, which, now that the boys had no coffee, was no longer in use at camp.
Jack returned about noon, bringing back a fine lot of shrimps, half a dozen fish, a few crabs, and some oysters, together with the news that he had discovered a large oyster bank which could be reached by wading at low tide.
Charley greeted him with a smiling face on which there was a look of triumph.
"Look here, Jack," he said, going to a plank upon which there were two or three little white heaps; "Ned is out in his science this time; I've got beautifully white salt as you see, and not the dark, impure stuff he said I would get; but that isn't all; instead of settling to the bottom of the kettle, it rises to the top to be skimmed off."
"Yes, I could have told you that," said Ned, who had arrived unobserved. "It's a way that it has. Taste your salt, Charley."
Charley did so, looked puzzled, and then turned to Ned.
"What is it, old fellow?" he asked.
"Why, beautifully white salt to be sure," answered Ned; "isn't that what you said it was?"
"Yes, I said that," answered Charley, "but now I know better. It is tasteless."
"Magnesia usually is," said Ned.
"Is that magnesia?"
"Yes, in the main. It is mixed a little with other things perhaps, but it is mostly magnesia. That is why I told you to skim it off. We don't want it in the salt."
"But I haven't any salt," said Charley, "I've filled the kettle up every fifteen minutes but no salt has settled yet."
"Your solution isn't saturated yet," said Ned. "This water contains only about two per cent of salt, or possibly in its impure state three per cent. To make one kettleful of salt we must boil away from thirty to fifty kettlefuls of water. The kettle holds two gallons, and so, in order to get a pint of salt we must boil away two or three kettlefuls of water. You have filled it up enough for to-day; now keep it boiling and we'll get a pint or two of salt, before night, and meantime we can pour a little of the boiled-down water on our fish for dinner, for I'm hungry."
"By the way, Ned," said Jack, "what luck have you had?"
"Good. I've brought back a coffee-pot half full, and have made arrangements for more to-morrow."
"Well, I like puzzles and riddles and things of that sort," said Jack, "but I hate to wait for 'our next month's number' for the answer. What is it you've got in the coffee-pot?"
"Bread," answered Ned, "or a substitute for it. I've been gathering the seeds of grasses and weeds."
"Seeds of grasses!" exclaimed Charley; "why, who ever heard of anybody eating grass seeds?"
"You've turned sceptic, Charley, since your faith in your beautiful white salt received such a shock," said Ned; "but still I think some grass seeds are occasionally eaten by men,—wheat, for example, and rice and corn."
"That's so," said Charley, abashed; "only I never thought of wheat and rice, etc., as grasses. But are wild grass seeds good to eat?"
"Yes, of course. All ordinary grass seeds are composed of substantially the same materials, and they are all nutritious. I have gathered about a quart, meaning to mash them up and make a sort of bread out of them; but there isn't time for that now, so I mean to boil them for dinner. The important thing is to have some kind of grain food to eat, and in that way we'll get it somewhat as if we had rice."
"That's a capital idea, Ned," said Jack. "Is there plenty of seed to be had?"
"Yes, now that I know where it is, though it is very slow work gathering such seed. I have only to gather it and winnow it. I can winnow a little faster next time, because I shall take something along to winnow upon, if it is only a clean handkerchief. I've thought of something else too."
"What is that?" asked Charley.
"Acorns and other nuts. They are rather green yet, but they are nutritious, and we can beat them into a palatable bread. Hogs grow fat on them, and there is no reason why they should not prove nutritious to us. I'm going to find some edible roots, too, if I can."
"What a splendid provider you are, Ned," said Charley, "particularly as we have the oysters, shrimps, etc., for a foundation to build upon."
"Well," replied Ned, "do you know I have been thinking that we should not starve even if we hadn't the water for a source of supply?"
"How is that?"
"In casting about for a variety of things to eat, I have naturally tried to think of every thing that could support life, and have been surprised to find how many things there are that can be eaten in extreme cases. If we were in real danger of starving we could eat snails and earthworms for meat——"
"Ugh!" exclaimed Charley.
"Well, snails and earthworms are both regarded as delicacies by many people in France. They actually have snail farms, where the creatures are fattened for market."
"As a business?"
"Yes, as a business. There is a demand for snails at high prices, because people who can pay well for them are fond of them. Then we could kill a few snakes and lizards here, I suppose. In fact, I killed a snake this afternoon, and if I hadn't been afraid of disgusting you fellows, I should have brought it home as a valuable contribution to our larder, for snakes are uncommonly good eating."
"Did you ever eat one?" asked Jack.
"Yes; or at least a part of one. There is no reason why snakes should not be eaten, except a groundless prejudice. Their flesh is both good and wholesome."
"Hurrah for our scientist!" said Jack. "I begin to see now, that our supplies are a good deal greater than I supposed. For my part, I mean to have a snake breakfast some of these mornings just for variety's sake. Why, we shall begin to live like princes presently."
"Will you really lay aside prejudice, Jack, and eat a well-cooked snake?" asked Ned.
"Certainly I will," said Jack.
"And you, Charley?"
"I see no objection, now that I think of it," said Charley.
"Very well; then I'll go for my snake. It isn't a hundred yards away, and it will furnish us meat, which is much more strengthening than an exclusive diet of fish and such things can be."
The snake—a large one—was brought to camp, skinned, dressed, and broiled to a crisp brown on a bed of coals. When done it was appetizing both in appearance and in odor, and the boys, who, naturally, were very hungry after their scanty breakfast and diligent work, ate it with keen relish, eating with it some boiled grass seeds. The only complaint made concerning the grass seeds was that there was not half enough of them.
The salt kettle had been filled more frequently than Ned had supposed, and the yield for the day was more nearly a quart than a pint.
"Now we are beginning to know how to live," said Jack. "We have only to get a good start and keep a fair supply of food ahead. But we must lay in a good stock of seeds to-morrow. I'll go with you, Ned, and we'll both work at that, while Charley minds camp and makes salt."
"To-morrow will be Sunday," said Charley.
"No it won't; this is Friday," said Jack.
"Let's see," said Ned. "We got to Bluffton on Monday evening, didn't we? Well, the next day we went fishing; that was Tuesday. The next day we came over here; that was Wednesday. The next day, Thursday, the wreck of theRed Birdoccurred. Friday we spent in getting food and bringing the wreck around here to the camp. That was yesterday, and so to-day is Saturday. Lucky that Charley thought of it. We mustn't work to-morrow, and so we must catch a lot of shrimps and fish with the net to-night."
The boys worked with the net until nearly midnight, and slept late the next morning. They observed Sunday as a day of rest, and rest was a thing that they greatly needed just at that time. It was agreed that on Monday morning Jack and Ned should go after grass seed, while Charley should mind camp, make salt, and use the net.
The harvest of seeds from which Ned and Jack were to draw their supplies, was found in an abandoned field, half a mile from the camp. Here various wild grasses and weeds grew in rank profusion, and had already ripened in the sun. Some yielded seeds so small and so few in number that it was a waste of time to thresh them; others were richer in larger seeds; while many of the weeds, particularly, gave a profuse supply of seeds almost as large as grains of wheat, but these were mostly worthless.
Ned was the recognized "scientist" of the party, and upon him devolved the task and responsibility of determining what kinds of seed to gather and what to leave. He was familiar with the ordinary plants of the country, and knew which of them were poisonous. It remained only to determine whether or not a seed, known to be harmless, was of any value as food, and Ned's method of doing this was very simple. He bit the seed to discover what he could about its flavor and general character in that way; then he split a seed and inspected it. If it seemed to consist principally of starch, gluten, and fruity matter, he accepted that kind of seed; if it appeared dry, hard, and black upon the inside, he deemed it unworthy.
Passing the point at which he had gathered seeds on the day before, Ned selected a good spot for a threshing-floor, and said:
"Now, Jack, I'll clear a space here and get ready for threshing; we'll get on faster in that way. You go off out there and gather grasses. Pretty soon I'll join you, and when we get a supply, we'll thresh awhile."
With this the boys separated. Ned worked diligently at his clearing, and Jack brought in armfuls of grass.
After awhile Ned finished his task and began to wonder what had became of Jack, who had been absent for a considerable time. He called, but Jack did not answer. Thinking nothing of the matter he went on with the work of gathering grass. Still Jack did not return, and after an hour had passed Ned became positively uneasy. He again called aloud, and Jack answered, but his voice came from a considerable distance.
Continuing his work Ned waited, and after awhile he heard Jack coming through a briar thicket, muttering complaints of some sort with a good deal of vigor.
"What's the matter, old fellow?" he asked.
"Matter enough," answered Jack, from the depths of the briar patch in which he was completely hidden; "I'm torn to pieces by the briars, and by the time I get to you I shan't have enough skin left on me to serve for patches."
"Nonsense!" said Ned; "shield your face with your arm and break right through. Your clothes are thick and stout."
"Yes," answered Jack, "so they are; but I haven't got them on."
Ned leaped to his feet, for he had been kneeling to arrange the grass for threshing. He remembered how rapidly he and his companions had been reduced in their possessions, until now they were boatless, bootless, hatless, and without regular supplies of food; and so when Jack declared that he had no clothes on, Ned at once imagined that some new calamity had befallen him.
"What!" he exclaimed. "No clothes! Why, we'll be naked savages before another week is out."
"I didn't say I had no clothes," answered Jack, still picking his way carefully through the briars. "I only said I had no clothes on, or at least none to speak of."
"Well, then, you must be out of your head," answered Ned. "Why don't you put them on?"
"Because I can't till we get to camp," and with that Jack made a final leap into the open space and stood before his astonished companion. He presented a queer appearance. For clothing he had on only his drawers and a thin undershirt. These were torn and stained with blood from many scratches. Jack's face, too, was a good deal scratched, but there was a triumphant look in his eyes which made Ned forget to look at the briar wounds. Jack's trowsers, tied at bottom and stuffed full of some heavy material, sat astride his neck, looking for all the world like the lower half of a very fat boy. His shirt, also well filled, was carried in one hand, while his coat, made into a bundle and likewise filled, was held in the other.
"What in the name of common-sense have you been stuffing your clothes with, Jack?" asked Ned in astonishment.
"Grass seed," answered Jack, throwing his burden on the ground.
"Not much," said Ned; "why it would take both of us a month to gather and thresh out that quantity."
"I thought you scientific people always recognized one fact as worth more than any number of 'must be's'; here I have the facts—a trowsers-full, a shirt-full, and a coat-full,—and yet you argue about what must be and what can't be."
"I admit the trowsers and the shirt and the coat, and I see that they are full," said Ned; "I only doubt the character of their contents. I don't believe you could have gathered such a quantity of grass seed within so short a time."
"Not of the kind that grows here, but mine are not of that kind."
"Let me look at them," said Ned.
"Not till we get to camp; I can't open the bags without spilling a lot."
"Well, tell me about it then."
"Well, I was gathering grasses over there by those tall trees, when I happened to look away toward the south. There I saw, about half a mile away, what looked like a patch of ripe wheat or oats. There were two or three acres of it down in a sort of marsh, so I went over there to see what it was. I found the little marsh covered thickly with a tall grass somewhat like oats, and all had gone to seed. The seeds are about the size of grains of wheat, but rather longer, and each grain, when threshed out, is covered with a brown husk that clings closely to the body of the grain. The seeds themselves are starchy, glutinous, and, if I am not mistaken, excellent food. It was too far to call you, so I made up my mind I would thresh some of the grass and bring away what I could of the result. I filled my shirt, coat, and trowsers, and I should have used my drawers in the same way if I could have carried any more. As it is, I've a big load."
"I should say so," answered Ned, "and a mighty good load, too, if I'm not mistaken."
"Why, what do you suppose it is?"
"Grass seed," answered Ned, "of the kind that we callrice."
"But how did it come there?" asked Jack. "Does rice grow wild?"
"Yes, sometimes. When a rice field is allowed to stand too long before cutting, the grain drops out of the heads, of course, and the next year a fair volunteer crop comes up. In this case, I suppose, the explanation is simple. When the island was abandoned during the war, there was probably a growing crop of rice in that little swamp. If so, it went to seed, and not being harvested, the seed fell to the ground, coming up again the next year only to repeat the process year after year. That's my explanation at any rate, and the only one I can think of. But come! let's go to camp. It isn't worth while now to fool away time over this grass. Now that you have found a rice field, we'll eat rice instead, and some day soon we'll go there and bring back enough to last us till we leave the island."
Upon their arrival at camp the contents of Jack's clothes proved to be, as Ned had conjectured, rough rice; that is to say, rice from which the outer husks have been removed, leaving only the closely clinging inner husk on the grain. The amount secured was sufficient to last the boys for a considerable time, and in the absence of bread, it was a thing of no little moment to them.