"Wild pigeons!" exclaimed Dave. "And hundreds of them! Shall I give them a couple of barrels, captain?"

"Might as well, lad. Wild pigeons are good eating, especially when you are hungry. Get as many of 'em as you can."

Dave approached a little closer and took aim with care. Bang! went the shotgun, and a wild fluttering and flying followed. Bang! went the second barrel of the weapon, and then, as the smoke cleared away, the boys and the captain saw seven of the pigeons come down to the ground.

Several others fluttered around and Phil caught one and wrung its neck, and Roger laid another low with a stick he had picked up.

"Fine shots, both of them," declared Captain Sanders. "Now load up again, Dave, so as to be ready for anything else that shows up."

"I am afraid I have scared the rest of the game," declared our hero, and so it proved, for after that they saw nothing but some small birds.

They pa.s.sed through a thick woods and then came rather unexpectedly to a wall of rocks, all of a hundred feet in height. At the base of the wall was an opening leading into a broad cave. Near the entrance was the remains of a campfire.

"Somebody has been here and that recently!" cried Phil, as he examined the embers.

"Must be Merwell and Jasniff!" cried Dave. "For if they were strangers they would come out and see what the shooting meant."

"Shall we go into the cave, or continue on the way to the sh.o.r.e?"

questioned the senator's son.

"Oh, let us take a peep into the cave first," cried Phil. "It looks as if it was inhabited."

The others were willing, and lighting a firebrand that was handy, they entered the cavern. In front they found the opening to be broad and low, but in the rear the ceiling was much higher and there were several pa.s.sageways leading in as many different directions.

"What an island!" murmured Roger. "Why, one could spend a year in visiting all the caves!"

"It's like a great, big sponge!" returned Phil. "Holes everywhere!"

"Take care that you don't slip down into some opening!" warned Captain Sanders.

In one of the pa.s.sages they came across the remains of a meal and also some empty bottles. Then Dave saw some bits of paper strewn over the rocky floor.

"What are they, Phil?" he asked, and then both commenced to pick the pieces up. Roger helped, while the captain held the firebrand.

"Well, of all things!" cried the shipowner's son. "Now what do you make of this?"

"The chart!" cried Dave.

"Yes!"

"What chart?" queried the master of the _Golden Eagle_.

"The treasure chart those four Englishmen had," answered Dave. "Now what made them come here with it and tear it to pieces?"

"Hum!" mused the captain. "One of two things would make 'em do that, lad. Either they got the treasure and had no further use for the map, or else they found the whole thing was a fake and in their rage they tore the map to shreds."

"They must have gotten the gold!" murmured Roger and Phil.

"No, I think they got fooled," said Dave.

"The question is, if those Britishers were here, where did they go to?" asked the captain.

"Let us call," suggested Dave. "They may be in some part of this cave where they couldn't hear the shots from my gun."

All called out several times, and listened intently for a reply.

"Hark! I hear something!" cried Roger. "Listen!"

They strained their ears, and from what appeared to be a great distance they heard a human voice. But what was said they could not make out.

"Too many echoes here," declared the captain. "A fellow can't tell where the cry comes from."

"Well, let us investigate," said our hero.

They moved forward and backward, up one pa.s.sageway and down another, calling and listening. At times the voice seemed to be quite close, then it sounded further off than ever.

"This sure is a mystery!" declared Phil. "What do you make of it, Dave?"

"I am beginning to think the call came from somewhere overhead,"

answered our hero. "Captain, see if you can flash a light on those rocks to the left of our heads."

Captain Sanders did as requested, and presently all in the party saw another pa.s.sageway, leading up from a series of rocks that formed something of a natural stairway. Up this they went, Dave leading the van. Then they came to a small opening between two rocks.

"Help! help!" came in a half-smothered voice. "Help, please. Don't leave me here in the dark any longer!"

CHAPTER XXIV-JASNIFF AND MERWELL

"It's a man!"

"One of the Englishmen!"

"You are right, lads," came from Captain Sanders. "And see, he is bound hands and feet to the rocks!"

What the master of the _Golden Eagle_ said was true, and as the firebrand was flashed on the scene, the chums could do little but stare in astonishment.

Lying on his back between the rocks was the Englishman named Giles Borden. Hands and feet were bound with a strong cord, which ran around a projection of the rocks in such a manner that the prisoner could scarcely move.

"Who tied you up?" questioned Dave, as he and Phil set to work to liberate the prisoner.

"Geswick, Pardell, and Rumney," groaned the prisoner. "Oh, if only I had my hands on them!"

"Why did they do it?" asked Captain Sanders.

"They wanted to rob me-and they did rob me!" answered Giles Borden.

"Oh, help me out of this wretched hole and give me a drink of water! I am dying from thirst!"