The Boy Aviators' Polar Dash - Part 10
Library

Part 10

Ben's surmise was right. The adventurers pa.s.sed the remainder of the night in peace.

As soon as day broke over a sea unmarred by a single ripple, there was an eager scrutiny of the horizon by all the castaways, but to their bitter disappointment not a sign of the Southern Cross, or any other vessel, could be descried.

"Looks like we'll have to spend some more time on 'Monkey Island',"

said Ben with a shrug.

"We can't spend much more time," said Frank, grimly.

"Why not?" demanded Ben.

"What are we to do for water?"

Things did, indeed, look black. Breakfast was eaten in comparative silence, and after the meal was concluded, at Frank's suggestion, it was decided to explore the island for a spring that could be tapped for further water supply. The boys all admitted to themselves that the chance of finding one was remote, but they determined to try and locate one in any event. At any rate Frank felt it would keep their minds off their troubles to have something to do.

The best part of the morning was spent in the search and although they came across occasional driblets of water,--the remnants of springs started by the heavy rain that marked their first night on the island,--they found nothing that promised an available supply. At noon they sat down in the shade of a huge palm to rest and made a meal off the nuts that lay at its foot. The milk of these proved cool and refreshing and was drunk out of the sh.e.l.l after one end of it had been hacked off with Frank's hunting knife.

"Well, we might as well make a start back for our camp," suggested Frank, after some moments had pa.s.sed in silence.

"Camp," repeated Harry, bitterly, "that's a fine camp. Why, there's nothing there but trees and sand and howling monkeys."

Nevertheless a start was made for the resting place of the previous night, the party trudging along the narrow beach in Indian file. All at once Ben, who was in the lead, stopped short.

"Look!" he exclaimed, pointing overhead.

The boys followed his finger and gave a shout of astonishment.

"Smoke!" cried Frank.

"Hurrah," cheered Harry, "it's the Southern Cross."

He waved his hat at the dark wreaths of vapor that were blowing across the island overhead.

The smoke scudded across the sky like small fleecy clouds, but it momentarily grew thicker and blacker.

"She's smoking up all right," laughed Billy Barnes, all his fears gone now that rescue seemed at hand.

Ben alone of the party seemed troubled.

"I'm not so sure that that's steamer smoke," he said slowly.

"Why, what else can it be?" demanded Frank.

"I don't know,"--sniff,--"but it seems to me,"--sniff,--"that's a whole lot of smoke for a steamer to be making, and"--sniff--"I don't like the looks of it."

"What else could make such smoke?" demanded Harry.

For reply Ben asked what seemed a strange question.

"Did you put the fire out when we left the camp?"

In an instant they all perceived without his speaking a word, what the sailor feared.

The island was on fire!

A few minutes later the smell of the burning trees and the crash as they fell, while the flames leaped through the brushwood beneath them, was clearly borne to them.

They were marooned on a floating island, and the island was in flames.

The dense smoke of the fire had by this time blotted out the sky and all they could see above them was a thick canopy of smoke. It rose in a huge pillar blotting out the sky and poisoning the air.

"What are we to do?" gasped Billy.

"I don't see what we can do," was Frank's reply, "our escape is cut off. We shall burn to death."

Indeed it seemed as if the boys were doomed to death in the flames.

With incredible rapidity the fire, undoubtedly started by their carelessness in not extinguishing their camp fire, came leaping and roaring through the forest.

Suddenly out of the woods directly in front of them leaped a lithe spotted form, and without glancing to right or left, the creature shot into the sea. It swam quite a distance and then sank.

"A jaguar," exclaimed Ben; "a good thing it was too scared to attack us."

"Yes, I haven't got a cartridge left," said Frank, gazing ruefully at his empty revolver.

"I don't think that would do us much good if you had; we might as well die by a jaguar's teeth and claws as by being burned to death," said Harry.

The boys were now witnesses of a strange scene. Driven by the heat of the fire scores of terrified animals pa.s.sed them. There were small agoutis or wild pigs, monkeys, birds of various kinds,--including huge macaws and numerous snakes. The creatures paid not the least attention to the boys, but, crazed with fear, made for the sea. The birds alone soared off and doubtless the stronger winged of them reached land.

"If we only had the Golden Eagle here," sighed Frank.

"Hurrah," suddenly shouted Ben, capering about, "hurrah, I've got a plan."

For a minute or two the boys regarded him as one might an insane person, but as he went on to explain his plan they grasped at it as a last resort. Two large tree trunks lay near to where they stood. They had fallen apparently in some tropical storm, so that their bulk rested on some smaller trees. It was as if they were on rollers.

"We will lash those together with some withes and make a raft,"

exclaimed Ben.

"How are you going to get them into the water?" asked Billy.

"By the natural rollers that are underneath them," replied the sailor; "come, we have no time to lose if we are to escape."

Indeed they had not. The fire was now so close that they could feel its ardent breath. Sparks were falling about them in red-hot showers and already some of the brush in their vicinity was beginning to smoke. Soon it would burst into flame and then they were doomed.

Feverishly they worked and soon had the two trunks lashed together firmly with long "lianas" or creepers of tough fibre that grew in great profusion everywhere. The work of getting the trunks into the water was, thanks to the natural rollers, not so hard as might have been antic.i.p.ated. Ben and Frank managed the placing of the rollers, which were carried in front of the logs as fast as its hinder end cleared some of them. In this manner their "raft," if such it could be called, was soon afloat.

It seemed a terribly insecure contrivance with which to risk a voyage, but they had no choice. The whole island, except the spot in which they had worked, was now one raging furnace, and had their situation not been so critical, the party would have been compelled to admire the wild magnificence of the spectacle. Great red tongues of flame shot up through the blanket of dark smoke, dying it crimson.

Occasionally there would be a dull crash as some huge forest monarch fell prostrate, or the dying scream of some creature overtaken by the flames rang out.

"Quick, onto the raft," shouted Frank as the clumsy craft floated at last.