The Castaways of the Flag (15 page)

           
If the
albatross had come from so far, it was no doubt because these powerful birds
can fly vast distances. Quite likely this one had come from the east of the
Indian Ocean to these regions of the Pacific possibly more than a thousand
miles away!

           
Much petting
was lavished upon the messenger from Burning Rock. It was like a link between
the shipwrecked people and their friends in New Switzerland.

           
Two days
later the year 1817 reached its end.

           
What did the
new year hold in store?

           
IF Captain Gould was not mistaken in his calculations about the
geographical position of the island, the summer season could not have more than
another three months to run. After that, winter would arrive, formidable by
reason of its cold squalls and furious storms. The faint chance of attracting
the attention of some ship out at sea by means of signals would have
disappeared. In winter sailors avoid these dangerous waters. But just possibly
something would happen before then to modify the situation.

           
Existence was much what it had been ever since that gloomy 26th of
October when the boat was destroyed. The monotony was terribly trying to such
active men. With nothing to do but wander about at the foot of the cliff which
imprisoned them, tiring their eyes with watching the ever deserted sea, they
needed extraordinary moral courage not to give way to despair.

           
The long, long days were spent in conversation in which Jenny bore the
principal part.

           
The brave
young woman loved them all, taxed her ingenuity to keep their minds occupied,
and discussed all manner of schemes, as to the utility of which she herself was
under no misapprehension.

           
Sometimes
they wondered if the island really lay, as they had supposed, in the west of
the Pacific. The boatswain expressed some doubt on this point.

           
"Is it
the albatross's coming that has changed your mind?" the captain asked him
one day.

           
"Well,
yes, it has," John Block replied; "and I am right, I think."

           
"You
infer from it that this island lies farther north than we supposed,
Block?"

           
"Yes,
captain; and, for all anybody knows, somewhere near the Indian Ocean. An
albatross might fly hundreds of miles without resting, but hardly
thousands."

           
"I know
that," Captain Gould replied, "but I know, too, that it was to
Borupt's interest to take the
Flag
towards the Pacific! As for the week
we were shut up in the hold, I thought, and so did you, that the wind was from
the west."

           
"I
agree," the boatswain answered, "and yet, this albatross –, Has it
come from near, or from far?"

           
"And
even supposing you are right, Block, even supposing we were mistaken about the
position of this island, and that it really is only a few miles from New
Switzerland, isn't that just as bad as if it were hundreds of miles off, seeing
that we can't get away from it?"

           
Captain
Gould's conclusion was unfortunately only too reasonable. Everything pointed to
the probability of the
Flag
having steered for the Pacific, far, very
far, from New Switzerland's waters. And yet what John Block was thinking,
others were thinking too. It seemed as if the bird from Burning Rock had
brought hope with it.

           
When the bird
recovered from its exhaustion, which it speedily did, it was neither timid nor
wild. It was soon walking about the beach, feeding on the berries of the kelp
or on fish, which it was very clever in catching, and it showed no desire to
fly away.

           
Sometimes it
would fly along the promontory and settle on the top of the cliff, uttering
little cries.

           
"Ah,
ha!" the boatswain used to say then. '' He is asking us up! If only he
could give me the loan of his wings I would willingly undertake to fly up
there, and look over the other side. Very likely that side of the coast isn't
any better than this one, but at any rate we would know."

           
Know? Did
they not know already, since Fritz had seen nothing but the same arid rocks and
the same inaccessible heights beyond the bluff?

           
One of the
albatross's chief friends was little Bob. A comradeship had promptly been
established between the child and the bird. They played together on the sand.
There was no danger to be apprehended from the teasing of the one or the
pecking of the other. When the weather was bad both went into the cave where
the albatross had his own corner.

           
Serious
thought had to be given to the chances of a winter here. But for some stroke of
good fortune they would have to endure four or five months of bad weather. In
these latitudes, in the heart of the Pacific, storms burst with extraordinary
violence, and lower the temperature to a serious extent.

           
Captain
Gould, Fritz, and John Block talked sometimes of this. It was better to look
the perils of the future squarely in the face. Having made up their minds to
struggle on, they no longer felt the discouragement which had been caused
earlier by the destruction of the boat.

           
"If only
the situation were not aggravated by the presence of the women and the
child," Captain Gould said more than once, "if we were only men here
–"

           
"All the
more reason to do more than we should have done," Fritz rejoined.

           
One serious
question cropped up in these anticipations of the winter: if the cold became
severe, and a fire had to be kept up day and night, might not the supply of
fuel give out?

           
Kelp was
deposited on the beach by every incoming tide and quickly dried by the sun. But
an acrid smoke was produced by the combustion of these sea-weeds, and they
could not make use of them to warm the cave. The atmosphere would have been
rendered unbearable. So it was thought best to close the entrance with the
sails of the boat, fixing them firmly enough to withstand the squalls which
beset the cliff during the winter.

           
There
remained the problem of lighting the inside of the cave when the weather should
preclude the possibility of working outside.

           
The boatswain
and Frank, assisted by Jenny and Dolly, made many rude candles out of the
grease from the dog-fish which swarmed in the creek and were very easy to
catch.

           
John Block
melted this grease and so obtained a kind of oil which coagulated as it cooled.
Since he had at his disposal none of the cotton grown by M. Zermatt, he was
obliged to content himself with the fibre of the laminariae, which furnished
practicable wicks.

           
There was
also the question of clothes, and that was a different question indeed.

           
"It's
pretty clear," said the boatswain one day, "that when you are
shipwrecked and cast on a desert island it is prudent to have a ship at your
disposal in which you can find everything you want. One makes a poor job of it
otherwise!''

           
They all
agreed. That was how the
Landlord
had been the salvation of the people
in New Switzerland.

           
In the
afternoon of the 17th an incident of which no one could have foreseen the
consequence caused the most intense anxiety.

           
As already
mentioned, Bob found great pleasure in playing with the albatross. When he was
amusing himself on the shore his mother kept a constant watch upon him, to see
that he did not go far away, for he was fond of scrambling about among the low
rocks of the promontory and running away from the waves. But when he stayed
with the bird in the cave there was no risk in leaving him by himself.

           
It was about
three o'clock. James Wolston was helping the boatswain to arrange the spars to
support the heavy curtain in front of the entrance to the cave. Jenny and Susan
and Dolly were sitting in the corner by the stove on which the little kettle
was boiling, and were busy mending their clothes.

           
It was nearly
time for Bob's luncheon.

           
Mrs. Wolston
called the child.

           
Bob did not
answer.

           
Susan went
down to the beach and called louder, but still got no reply. Then the boatswain
called out: "Bob! Bob! It's dinner time!"

           
The child did
not appear, and he could not be seen running about the shore.

           
"He was
here only a minute ago," James declared.

           
"Where
the deuce can he be?" John Block said to himself, as he went towards the
promontory.

           
Captain
Gould, Fritz, and Frank were walking along the foot of the cliff.

           
Bob was not
with them.

           
The boatswain
made a trumpet of his hands and called out several times:

           
"Bob!
Bob!"

           
The child
remained invisible.

           
James came up
to the captain and the two brothers.

           
"You
haven't seen Bob, have you?" he asked in a very anxious voice.

           
"No,"
Frank answered.

           
"I saw
him half an hour ago," Fritz declared; "he was playing with the
albatross."

           
And all began
to call him, turning in every direction.

           
It was in
vain.

           
Then Fritz
and James went to the promontory, climbed the nearest rocks, and looked all
over the creek.

           
Neither child
nor bird was there.

           
Both went
back to the others. Mrs. Wolston was pale with fear.

           
"Have
you looked inside the cave?" Captain Gould asked.

           
Fritz made
one spring to the cave and searched every corner of it, but came back without
the child.

           
Mrs. Wolston
was distracted. She went to and fro like a mad woman. The little boy might have
slipped among the rocks, or fallen into the sea. The most alarming suppositions
were permissible since Bob had not been found.

           
So the search
had to be prosecuted without a moment's delay along the beach and as far as the
creek.

           
"Fritz
and James," said Captain Gould, "come with me along the foot of the
cliff. Do you think Bob could have got buried in a heap of sea-weed?"

           
"Yes,
you go," said the boatswain, "while Mr. Frank and I go and search the
creek."