Without further delay they proceeded to the top of the hill. There were no trees on the summit and for a s.p.a.ce of two or three hundred yards, the ground was bare and un.o.bstructed. The very highest point on the island was selected and there a hole was dug. Sticks and knives and fingers and anything that could be found was used in the task, for no tools had been put in the life-boat.

"If we only had the oars," said George, "we could have tied them all together and made a real flag pole."

"What's the matter with this?" demanded Fred. "It may not be very beautiful, but it'll do the work all right. It's limber too, so that if a high wind comes up it will bend and not break."

"All right," exclaimed George, "put the flag on and we'll set it up."

The sleeves were torn from George's sacrificed shirt. The sleeves in turn were torn into strips and with these the rest of the shirt, or rather the flag, was tied securely to the pole.

"Hoist it up," cried George. "I must say I never expected to have my shirt used for a flag on some deserted island though."

"It makes a good one all right," said Grant. "That ought to be visible for a good long distance."

"Do you suppose any one would take the trouble to investigate if he did see it?" inquired John skeptically.

"Any one would certainly investigate a flag like that," laughed George.

"They'd think it was a Chinese laundry or something."

"Maybe they'll take it for a pirate flag," suggested Fred.

"This island looks like a good place for pirates all right," remarked John.

CHAPTER XII

A NEW HOME

That night the shipwrecked little band slept out in the open with nothing but the stars over their heads. In fact they had no other shelter, but the night was mild and clear and no one suffered any discomfort.

Thus far the boys had had no chance to explore their new home, but the first thing the next morning they determined to do so. A plunge in the waters of the little bay put every one in good humor. No one went very far out, however, for in spite of the fact that they knew there was slight chance of any shark venturing anywhere so near the sh.o.r.e, the knowledge that the giants were lurking not far away cured every desire to swim out any distance.

Sam decided he would not join the exploring party. He had an idea that he would be very much better off, dozing in the sun at the foot of some palm tree. The four boys separated, Fred and Grant going together, and John and George pairing off.

"You two go one way," directed Grant, "and we'll go the other. If we follow the sh.o.r.e we'll meet around on the other side of the island somewhere."

"All right," agreed John. "We'll see you later."

"After we see what the sh.o.r.e of the island is like, I say we explore the interior," said George, as he and John walked off down the beach.

"That's what I say," exclaimed John. "That part looks more interesting."

"It does to me, too. There are lots of birds here."

"Do you know the names of them?"

"No, I don't. All I know is that they are certainly beautiful. Look at that one there," exclaimed George suddenly, as there was a flash of scarlet showing for an instant among the trees to their left.

"I wonder if there are any parrots here."

"Wouldn't you like to have one?"

"I certainly would. I'd like to take it home with me."

"If we ever get there."

"Of course we'll get there," said John confidently. "Don't worry about that for a second. It's only a question of how soon it will be."

"Don't be so sure about that, String. We don't know where we are and it certainly seems queer that we haven't seen a single boat. That's what worries me. If many boats went by this way, I wouldn't worry, but if no boats come along, how are we to be picked up?"

"But some will come."

"They haven't yet."

"It seems to me we ought to have a lookout," said John. "A boat might go right by and we'd never see it at all."

"I know it," said George. "I think we ought to take turns up on top of the hill where the flag is."

"I'm willing. We'll talk about it to Grant and Fred, when we meet them."

"Look at that rock," exclaimed George suddenly.

"What's the matter with it?"

"Look at its shape."

"It is queer," admitted John. "It looks like a fish."

"Doesn't it? Maybe it's a petrified shark."

"I guess not that," laughed John. "Still it is shaped more like a shark than anything else, isn't it? Isn't it queer?"

The odd shaped rock made a great impression on the two boys, and it was a queer freak of nature. Black in color and about thirty feet long the great bowlder stood out as a remarkable evidence of nature's handiwork.

It lay in a small opening in the midst of a grove of palm trees. The two boys drew near to investigate more closely and were amazed at the smoothness of its surface and the way it glistened in the sunlight.

"This is certainly strange," exclaimed George. "It looks as if it might have been under water for hundreds of years and was worn smooth this way by the waves."

"It's so different from the other rocks, too," said John. "I wonder what made it black this way."

"Do you notice," remarked George, "that it doesn't look so much like a shark when you are close to it? When we first saw it, it certainly did though."

"Didn't it? Let's go back to that spot again."

They retraced their steps and once more viewed the odd shaped rock from the place where they had first caught sight of it. More than ever were they impressed by its weird resemblance to a giant shark.

"We'll certainly have to tell Grant and Fred about this," said John.

"We'll bring them down here to look at it too."