Van Resen had already established that the yurt’s previous occupant had used the curious dwelling’s fireplace as an oven, but the scientist thought it wise to cook outdoors unless inclement weather forced them to do otherwise.
Fire for heat or comfort, like the one they’d had the previous night was essential, but the yurt was their only sanctuary in the vast jungle, and he did not want to risk a grease fire destroying it.
Rain would eventually drive them to use the fireplace for cooking, but he hoped to inspect the chimney thoroughly before that happened.
Jacob poured water from the five gallon barrel left them into a large kettle marooned along with the Quarrie’s cooking utensils. He set this to heat on the rocks beside the growing flames.
They would have to be careful with their water supply.
The rain had made Van Resen consider setting out pots to collect it until a nearby spring or stream could be found; but before any such expedition, he wished to determine what they had as armaments besides his butcher knife and Jacob’s axe.
Virginia and Jacob left the water to boil and Holmes to tend the fire, before climbing back into the yurt where Mrs. Quarrie was setting breakfast out on the butcher block. This consisted of cheese, biscuits, tinned sardines and jars of apricots and peaches that had been stranded with them. It was clear that while the mutineers had not wished them well, they did not want them to die outright; however Van Resen had noted the absence of coffee, which seemed a cruel and unusual punishment to him.
The scientist was pleased that the women were not insisting that they dress for breakfast, though he understood the previous evening’s formal dining to be a tonic for their anxiety.
Mrs. Quarrie had turned up several unopened tins and jars of food during the previous day’s housecleaning, but those would be saved and only used in extremis. It was clear from their covering of cobwebs and dust that they were many years old and their edibility was in question.
The castaways had enough food of their own to settle in and keep them fed until they could find other sources growing in the jungle. Van Resen had plans to identify fruit and vegetables before recommending which were safe for consumption. He had also talked to Jacob about beachcombing for shellfish, and constructing nets and fishing poles to exploit the sea that was almost at their doorstep.
The fact that the mutineers had left them with some means for survival confirmed to Van Resen that the castaways were intended as ransom or as a bargaining chip for later use.
It had not come from Christian charity, of that the scientist was certain.
Of course, this worried him because it suggested that the criminals would return, and he doubted the castaways could repel an armed invasion.
As it was, survival of any sort was at stake with only the manservant and the elder Quarrie with whom he could discuss threats and strategy. Both men like their female companions had lived amid comforts too long to easily consider such things.
In all fairness, Van Resen could only rise to the challenge because of his ready knowledge of the biological sciences, his experience as a field researcher in Germany and because of his fondness for hiking and nature.
The scientist had not considered bringing Phillip Holmes into any discussion of their future. Already, the young man’s minor complaints about the conditions of their “camp” had turned to justifications for avoiding work as had been shown only moments before by his willingness to let Jacob split wood for the fire.
“We must focus on rescue,” Holmes had said as he fulfilled his job setting a match to Jacob’s wood. “Only a beast could survive here for long.”
Van Resen knew that focusing on rescue rather than survival would have only one tragic outcome. The young man was out of his element and frightened, and had been unsettled since the night before when he saw an animal in the trees as they smoked cigars.
He had become inconsolable about the “bloodthirsty creature,” finally requiring strong words from the other men to stop his disturbing chatter around the women.
After that Holmes understood that his male companions would avoid confrontation if he spoke freely in such fair company. It was a situation that would not last, but until the women adapted to the rigors of the jungle, Van Resen decided to leave it alone.
Holmes would get his comeuppance later.
When the tea was ready, Miss James called for Lilly to join them by the fireplace where they gathered to consume their portions from Mrs. Quarrie’s fine china. The tea was excellent despite the rustic setting, and many remarked at the cheerful taste of their Bohemian fare.
After some delay, the girl came out. She wore her dressing gown with a dark red kerchief wrapped up under her chin to make her face a chalky cameo set in a tangle of golden ringlets that cascaded from beneath Captain Seward’s Stetson.
“Goodness, Lilly!” her grandmother remarked. “You look like a frightful ghost!”
“Oh Granby,” the girl answered, coming up to kiss the old woman’s ruddy cheek. “I’ve only just awakened. Is there tea?”
“Of course there is,” Miss James said, moving to her with a cup. “But little sugar and neither cream nor milk. However the doctor assures us that we’ll discover a natural source of sweetness given time.”
“Honey, most definitely, and there will be berries and fruit,” Van Resen said, munching on a biscuit. He was breakfasting cross-legged on the floor beneath the hunting trophies. “I will not rule out milk in the future, but such an undertaking would be challenging.” The scientist began formulating a list of African dairy animals, and pictured a great water buffalo. “Yes, indeed—challenging!”
“Doesn’t ‘honey’ mean bees?” Lilly drawled, taking her cup of tea. “And ‘bee’ mean stingers!”
“Excellent point,” Van Resen said, nodding. “I am glad to see you using your wits, my dear girl. We’ll have
