King o' the Beach Part 8

"Faint?"

"Yes, sir. Human nature's human nature, you know, sir, and if you stop its victuals it gets ravenish. I aren't had a mouthful of anything but salt water for quite thirty hours, and I don't believe you have neither."

"I don't believe I have, Bostock," said the doctor, smiling.

"Thought not, sir. So what do you say to going and looking up the stooard's and the cook's quarters and seeing what we can find?"

"Yes, Bostock, the wisest thing we can do, and I must be thinking about my patient too. I must not let him starve."

CHAPTER SEVEN.

There was not much time for examination before darkness set in, but enough to prove to the two seekers that there was not the slightest cause for anxiety respecting provisions; for, without taking into consideration what the sea and sh.o.r.e might afford them upon being tried, there was the full run of the ample stores provided for about a hundred people, and the great tanks of fresh water. In short, as Bostock put it:

"Why, there's enough for us three to live like fighting c.o.c.ks for a whole year, sir, and to have company too. Then there's water ash.o.r.e, as we saw plainly enough, and there's sure to be something or another to eat there, besides cocoanuts, which aren't bad if you drink 'em. Bound to say there's hysters too, while, as for fish, I know what these waters are. You've only got to put a bit o' bait on a hook and hold it out, and the fish are so hungry for it that they'll jump out o' water or rush ash.o.r.e to catch it. Why, we're in luck, sir."

"Luck, Bostock?" said the doctor, sadly.

"Yes, sir, luck. It's an awful bad job for the old _Susan_ to be wrecked; but she's well insured, I've no doubt, and there must be disasters at sea sometimes."

"And the pa.s.sengers and crew, my man?" said the doctor, bitterly.

"Saved, every one of 'em, we hope and pray, sir, and as I said afore, pitying us poor chaps as they think warn't. Beg pardon, sir, you're a gentleman and a scholar, while I'm only a poor uneddicated sort of a fellow as never had any time for schooling but I've larnt a deal in my time, not book larning, but useful stuff."

"Well," said the doctor, smiling, for the old sailor had stopped short; "why don't you go on, Bostock?"

"Thought I was getting too forrard, sir."

"No, no, go on; what were you about to say just now?"

"Well, sir, only this, that it's best to take things as they come and not grumble. Here we are, unfortunate, as you may say, but what a lot worse off we might be. Little while ago, as we thought, there was young Master Carey dying as fast as he could, and us just waiting to go to the bottom. Now here's that there dear lad asleep comf'table and getting better, and you and me with the pick o' the berths and the saloon all to ourselves, getting ready to have a reg'lar good, square meal. Aren't got so werry much to grumble at, have we?"

Doctor Kingsmead gave the speaker a hearty slap on the shoulder.

"Bostock," he said, "you're a philosopher. There, we'll make the best of things, and, in the hope that our poor friends are all saved, I will not murmur against our fate."

"That's right, sir, and now if you don't mind my being a bit rough I'll be cook and stooard, and you'll soon have your bit to eat, and when you've done--"

"You will have done too," said the doctor, "and we must drop distinctions now. So help me make the coffee, and then we'll have our meal, and afterwards we must make our plans."

They made very few plans that night, for in spite of their long sleep that day the exhaustion they had gone through during the typhoon still told upon them so that, after seeing to Carey, who was sleeping peacefully enough, they took it in turns to keep watches of three hours'

length, and pa.s.sed the night sleeping or listening to the soft, low boom of the breakers on the reef.

The morning broke gloriously, and the suns.h.i.+ne and soft air seemed to send a thrill of elasticity through the doctor, which grew into a feeling of joy as he examined his patient, who slept still as if he had not moved during the night.

He stepped out of the cabin to hear Bostock whistling away cheerily in the steward's department: but the whistling ceased as soon as the doctor appeared.

"Morning, sir. What do you make o' the young skipper?"

"Sleeping still," said the doctor; "a beautiful, restful sleep, without a trace of fever."

"Hooroar for that, sir. Best thing for him, aren't it?"

"Yes, so long as we keep up his strength."

"We, sir? You mean you."

"I mean we, Bostock, for you will help."

"All right, sir, ready _and_ willin'."

"The sleep will be the best thing for him, and when we can move him we'll have him up on deck, and contrive a shade."

"Oh, I can soon do that, sir. We couldn't rig up the old awning again, but there's plenty of canvas to set up a little un. Is he ready for some breakfast, do you think?"

"I would not wake him on any consideration. Let him sleep."

"Good, sir. There's a bit ready as soon as you like, and after that we can get to work."

Carey still slept on whilst the doctor and old Bob made a hearty meal, and, taking advantage of the freedom thus afforded them, they examined their position in relation to the sh.o.r.e by naked eye and with one of the gla.s.ses from the captain's cabin.

There it all was as they had partly seen overnight: the vessel firmly fixed in the rocky shallows of a great lagoon, whose waters were fast becoming of crystal-clearness and as smooth as a pond, while sea-ward there was the great sheltering reef with everlasting breakers thundering and fretting and throwing up a cloud of surf.

On the other side, comparatively close at hand, was, as far as they could make out, the lovely sh.o.r.e of a beautiful island, bathed in suns.h.i.+ne and glorious in rich verdure and purple shade, while they could now clearly see the sparkling surface of the stream, which tumbled in rapids and falls down to the vivid blue waters of the lagoon.

"Looks good enough for anything, sir, don't it?"

"A perfect paradise, Bostock," said the doctor, who could hardly tear his eyes from the glorious scene.

"It just is, sir," said the old sailor; "makes a man feel quite young again to see it. My word! won't that dear lad enjy hisself as soon as he's well enough to go ash.o.r.e? I'm reckoning ongoing with him, sir.

Won't be to-day, I suppose?"

"No," said the doctor, smiling, as he closed the gla.s.s in its case; "nor yet this month, Bostock."

"That's a long time, sir. I might pig-aback him if we got him ash.o.r.e."

"Let's get him well first."

"Right, sir, you know best; but I don't want the poor young chap to be dull and moping. I might rig up some fis.h.i.+ng-tackle for him, though, so's he could sit on deck here and fish."

"Yes, by-and-by; but he will not be dull. We'll amuse him somehow."

"That we will, sir; and now you must be skipper and take the lead, for I s'pose we shall have to live here a bit."

"Is that likely to be the mainland?" said the doctor, by way of answer.

"Not it, sir. One of the hundreds of islands out in these parts."