Read A Boy Crusoe; or, The Golden Treasure of the Virgin Islands Page 23


  *CHAPTER XXIII.*

  _*Rescue at Hand; Leaving the Island*_*.*

  Marjorie had heard the sound, also, and came toward us.

  Suddenly she pointed out toward the sea, uttering the exclamation,"look."

  We both turned and looked in the direction indicated.

  A boat was rounding the point; a real boat.

  There were men in it, four men. The boat shot around the point andbegan skirting the shore toward us.

  We saw that they were black men, dressed in rough but civilizedgarments.

  They were conversing among themselves, speaking in a tongue which we didnot understand.

  Were they friends or foes? Stepping quickly into the house we took ourguns and waited behind the stockade, standing so we could watch theboat. It had the appearance of a canoe, made of wood. Evidently theblack men had seen our house as the canoe was turned toward the shore.

  She grounded in a few seconds, and the men sprang ashore. Theycautiously approached the boat-shed peered into it, and then came slowlytoward the house. Beckoning Marjorie to remain out of sight we graspedour guns and stepped boldly out, resolved to meet the emergencyunhesitatingly, whatever it might be.

  To our surprise the black men stopped with a shout of joy.

  One a tall, fine looking negro, stepped toward us and extended his handto us.

  "Fo' de Lard, Marsa; Who is yo', how long yo' ben heah?"

  I told him that I had been here many months, and that my two companions,pointing to Mr. Harborough and to Marjorie, who now came forward, hadbeen here half as long.

  Then he told us a strange story, one which gave us great joy.

  He said that they were coming from their island to this one to huntturtles, at the great breeding place which I had discovered on my firstmarch to the mountain, and that, while nearing the east coast of ourisland a steamer came along, slowed down and then stopped.

  Men on the steamer seemed to be looking at the island with glasses, andthen the whistle of the steamer was blown. This was in the late eveningbefore. Presently the steamer started and when it came up with thecanoe the "cap'n" asked them if there were any people living on theisland.

  The black men answered in the negative, adding that none of the turtlehunters dared go far from shore, for a terrible savage monster half manand half demon, lurked in the forest. The "cap'n" told them he had seena beacon on the top of the mountain, and that he believed some one wassignalling for assistance. So he bargained with them to follow closealong the shore, searching carefully in every cove, while the steamerfollowed slowly.

  The steamer anchored during the night and the black men were taken onboard.

  At daylight that morning the black men continued along the shore in thecanoe, the steamer following. As the canoe came in sight of the covethey saw the wreck and signalled back to the steamer, which had answeredby a blast on her whistle.

  It was the sound of the steamer's whistle which we heard just before theboat appeared. In a few minutes a large steamer came in sight frombehind the point and anchored off the cove. A boat was immediatelylowered and rowed swiftly ashore. A man in uniform sprang ashore andcame hurriedly to us, extending both his hands which we eagerly grasped.

  He was the second officer of the Royal Mail steamship _Dunmore Castle_,from England for West Indian and Colombian ports. When off the eastside of the island somewhat out of her course by reason of a heavysquall into which she had run a few hours before sighting the island,the first officer had seen my beacon and called the Captain's attentionto it. The rest had been related by the black men.

  My story is nearly told. We were transported on board the steamer, withsuch of our belonging as we wished to take with us. The great weight ofMarjorie's trunk called forth some remarks from the men who handled it,but we made some casual allusion to rare sea-shells and other curios andfelt relieved when the trunk was on board.

  The _Dunmore Castle_ proceeded to make her ports of call, during whichwe had to give a detailed account of our life and strange adventures onthe island, to the wondering passengers.

  We were landed at Kingston, Jamaica, from whence we proceeded by stageover-land to Port Antonio on the north-east coast, where we embarked onthe steamship _Sama_, for Boston, with fruit.

  I have nothing more of interest to relate, unless the reader may like toknow that I see Marjorie every day still, and that her father visits usat least once each year, when we talk over and over again, the incidentsthat I have, in my humble way, tried to relate.

  FINIS.

 
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