Next morning we ran the boat down to the water’s edge and tried to launch her. Two of us got into her and made ready to pull, while the others shoved her off. Then the others jumped in and we pulled five or six strokes, when a huge breaker caught her, lifted her up and turned her right over, rolling us all in a heap on to the beach. We tried again, with the same result, and then gave the attempt up, and went back to our morning’s dig, hoping for better luck in the afternoon.
Day after day we tried and always failed. It seemed as if the sea would never go down. Our stores were now all but exhausted, and we lived chiefly on the wild seabirds. Every morning we would climb to a ravine where the birds are in great quantities, and pluck the young, unfledged ones from their nests, their mothers circling round us, striking at us with beaks and wings, uttering hoarse cries, and even spitting morsels of fish at us in their fury. We then took our victims down to the camp, cooked and ate them. The old birds are inedible, and even the flesh of the young ones is, without exception, the most horrible kind of food I have ever tasted.
At last, on February 5, after a week of this sort of thing, we could stand it no longer, and determined to get off somehow. Three times we tried, and each time were swamped and driven back; the fourth time we waited for a lull, ran the boat out, jumped in, and pulled away with all our strength. A huge breaker rolled up. The boat stood up on end, hesitated for an instant; one mighty tug at the oars, she righted, and before another wave could catch us we were out of danger, soon reached the Alerte, and our imprisonment was at an end.
I cannot close this account of our life on the island without saying a word in praise of the two coloured seamen who were left with us. Always willing to work hard, and always cheerful and obliging, they tried to make our life as comfortable for us as possible. When the provisions ran short, they would have lived, had we allowed them, on nothing but a few handfuls of rice or cassava, saying:—“You gentlemen eat the meat; me and George, we used to anything, even starving—you gentlemen not. We don’t want meat—you do.” In saying this, I do not wish it to be thought that I am making any invidious comparison between these two men and the two white sailors whom Knight had with him on board at this time. They also were good men and capable sailors, and had they been ashore with us would, I know, have done their duty well and willingly. They deserved thoroughly the good discharge which Knight gave them on parting.
XXI
We Abandon the Search
The five men I had left on the island had certainly done their work well. The doctor had made an excellent leader, and had organised all the operations capitally. They had toiled hard, and had kept up their spirits all the while, and, what is really wonderful under circumstances so calculated to try the temper and wear out patience, they had got on exceedingly well with each other, and there had been no quarrelling or ill-feeling of any sort.
The ravine had been very thoroughly explored, and we felt that there was but little chance of our finding the treasure. It was highly improbable that the massive golden candlesticks of the Cathedral of Lima would ornament our homes in England. It was decided, however, that, if the weather permitted, we should stay here another three weeks or so, and—as we were satisfied that the treasure could not be at the first bend of the ravine—that we should dig in such other spots as appeared suitable hiding-places, and would be naturally selected for the purpose by a party of men landing in this bay.
The shore-party were glad of a holiday on the yacht after all their labours and privations, and no attempt was made to take the whaleboat through the surf again that day. All hands stayed on board for the night, and on the following morning, as the sea was still breaking too heavily on the beach of Southwest Bay to permit of a landing, I proposed to my companions that we should take another holiday and go for a picnic on the water. The cook, was, therefore, instructed to prepare an especially good dinner, and, after shaking the reefs out of our mainsail, we proceeded to circumnavigate the island, keeping as close to the shore as we were able, so that we could have a good view of the scenery.
We sailed by the different points which we now knew so well—the Ness, the Pier, the Ninepin—and at last doubled North Point. This extremity of the island is extremely wild and desolate, and is utterly inaccessible. Many of the sharp pinnacles which cap the mountains are out of the perpendicular, and lean threateningly over the sea. I have already explained that the different species of birds occupy
