Part 13 (1/2)
”Why don't you do as I do, pick things up and look for them afterward?”
he said, excitedly.
”What is it? What did you find?” queried Bert, who was more inclined to be sure of his ground before he became enthusiastic. ”It looks a good deal like any other old memorandum book, as far as I can see.”
”All right, then, we'll read it and see what _is_ in it,” replied Tom.
”Why, it's a record of somebody's life on the island here. I suppose maybe you think that's nothing to find, huh?”
Without waiting for a reply he started to read the mildewed old book, and Bert and d.i.c.k read also, over his shoulder.
The first entry was dated about a month previous to the time of reading, and seemed to be simply a rough jotting down of the important events in the castaway's life for future reference. There were records of the man, whoever he might be, having found the spring beside which he had built the hut in which they were now standing; of his having erected the rude shelter, and a good many other details.
The three boys read the scribbled account with breathless interest, as Tom turned over page after page. ”Come on, skip over to the last page,”
said Bert at last, ”we can read all this some other time, and I'm crazy to know what happened to the fellow, whoever he is. Maybe he's written that down, too, since he seems to be so methodical.”
In compliance with this suggestion, Tom turned to the last written page of the note-book, and what the boys read there caused them to gasp. It was scribbled in a manner that indicated furious haste, and read as follows:
”Whoever you are who read this, for heaven's sake come to my aid, if it is not too late. Last night I was awakened by having my throat grasped in a grip of iron, and before I could even start to struggle I was bound securely. By the light of torches held by my captors I could see that I was captured by a band of black-skinned savages. After securing me beyond any chance of escape, they paid little further attention to me, and held what was apparently a conference regarding my disposal. Finally they made preparations to depart, but first cooked a rude meal and my hands were unbound to enable me to eat. At the first opportunity I scrawled this account, in the hope that some party seeing my signal, might by chance find it, and be able to help me. As the savages travel I will try to leave some trace of our progress, so you can follow us. I only hope--” but here the message ended suddenly, leaving the boys to draw their own conclusions as to the rest of it.
For a few moments they gazed blankly into each other's faces, and uttered never a word. Bert was the first to break the silence.
”I guess it's up to us, fellows,” he said, and the manly lines of his face hardened. ”We've got to do something to help that poor devil, and the sooner we start the better. According to the dates in this book it must have been last Thursday night that he was captured, and this is Monday. If we hurry we may be able to trace him up and do something for him before it's too late.”
The thought that they themselves might be captured or meet with a horrible death did not seem to enter the head of one of them. They simply saw plainly that it was, as Bert had said, ”up to them” to do the best they could under the circ.u.mstances, and this they proceeded to do without further loss of time.
”The first thing to do,” said Bert, ”is to scout around and see if we can find the place where the savages left the clearing with their prisoner. Then it will be our own fault if we cannot follow the trail.”
This seemed more easily said than done, however, and it was some time before the three, fretting and impatient at the delay, were able to find any clue. At last Bert gave an exultant whoop and beckoned the others over to where he stood.
”I'll bet any amount of money this is where they entered the jungle,” he said, exultantly. ”Their prisoner evidently evaded their observation while they were breaking a path through, and pinned this on the bush here,” and he held up a corner of a white linen handkerchief, with the initial M embroidered on the corner.
”Gee, I guess you're right,” agreed d.i.c.k. ”Things like that don't usually grow on bushes. It ought to be easy for us to trace the party now.”
This proved to be far from the actual case, however, and if it had not been for the occasional sc.r.a.ps of clothing fluttering from a twig or bush every now and then their search would have probably ended in failure. So rank and luxuriant is the jungle growth in tropical climates, that although in all probability a considerable body of men had pa.s.sed that way only a few days before, practically all trace of their progress was gone. The thick underbrush grew as densely as ever, and it would have seemed to one not skilled in woodland arts that the foot of man had never trod there. Monkeys chattered in the trees as they went along, and parrots with rainbow plumage shot among the lofty branches, uttering raucous cries. Humming clouds of mosquitoes rose and gathered about their heads, and added to the heat to make their journey one of torment.
Their previous experience as campers now stood them in good stead, and they read without much trouble signs of the progress of the party in front of them that they must surely have missed otherwise.
After three hours of dogged plodding, in which few words were exchanged, Bert said, ”I don't think we can have very much further to go, fellows.
I remember the captain saying that this island was not more than a few miles across in any direction, and we must have traveled some distance already. We're bound to stumble on their camp soon, so we'd better be prepared.”
”Probably by this time,” said Tom, ”the savages will have returned to the mainland, or some other island from which they came. I don't think it very likely that they live permanently on this one. It seems too small.”
”Yes, I thought of that,” said Bert, ”but we've got to take our chance on that. If they are gone, there is nothing else we can do, and we can say we did our best, anyway.”
”But what shall we do when we find them?” asked Tom, after a short pause, ”provided, of course, that our birds haven't flown.”
”Oh, we'll have to see how matters stand, and make our plans accordingly,” replied Bert. ”You fellows had better make sure your revolvers are in perfect order. I have a hunch that we'll need them before we get through with this business.”