"The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away." That was all the remark that James Malone made.

And the mystery of that unhappy brig none can ever unravel.

To the end of time it must remain one of the awful secrets of the sea.

Book 3--CHAPTER SEVEN.

STRANGE ADVENTURES IN A CRYSTALLINE CAVE.

Ten months more, and not another ship was seen.

It was now two years and over since the beautiful barque _Sea Flower_ had sailed away from Southampton. Not a very long time, it may be said.

No; and yet it seemed a century to look back upon, so many strange events and adventures had been crowded into those four-and-twenty months, and so much sorrow and suffering too.

"Hope deferred maketh the heart sick."

Ah! the hearts of all were sad and sick enough by this time.

"Some day, some day a ship will come!"

Every one fore and aft was weary with repeating these words.

They went not now so often to the foot of Fire Hill, as the volcano had come to be called, in search of the buried cave.

A buried cave it doubtless was, covered entirely by the flow of lava from the crater, and lost, it would seem, for ever.

But whole days would be spent in rambling about in search of the only kind of game the lonely island afforded, those small black pigs and the rock-rabbits, or in fishing by stream or at sea.

When I say "at sea," it must not be imagined that they fished in Treachery Bay. No; for to have done so would doubtless have invited the attention of the savages, and they might have paid the island a visit that would have been very little relished. Natives of those South Pacific islands have keen eyesight.

But the dinghy boat had been hauled right across the island and launched in a little bay there. A cave was found, and this formed a capital boat-house, for it rose so high behind that the tide could not reach it.

The time had come when fishing was very necessary indeed, for well "found" though the _Sea Flower_ had been, especially with all kinds of tinned provisions and biscuits, these had been nearly all consumed, and for some months back the Crusoes had depended for their support almost entirely on rod and gun. I say _almost_ advisedly; for many kinds of vegetables and roots grew wild in this lonely island, not to mention fruits, the most wholesome and delicious that any one could desire.

Ah, reader, do not imagine that because you have eaten bananas, or even guavas, which you have purchased in this country, that you can form a perfect idea of the flavour and lusciousness of those fruits when gathered from the trees in their native wilds. Moreover, there are fruits in the woods of the Pacific islands so tender that they could not be carried by sea, nor kept for even a day in the tropics; and these are the best of all. So that on Misfortune Island there was no danger of starvation, unless indeed the Crusoes should have the misfortune to be surrounded by the savages and placed in a state of siege.

It was against such an eventuality that the last of the tinned meats was so carefully reserved: and the last of the coals too, because these latter would be needed for the donkey engine, to make steam to be condensed and used as drinking water.

Three times a week, at least in good weather, did a little band set out for the fishing cove, and this consisted of Ransey Tansey himself, Nelda, and little Fitz, to say nothing of Bob.

Now the cove was quite six miles away. Six miles going and six coming back would have been too long a journey for Nelda; but as the child liked to accompany the boys, and they were delighted to have her company, the two lads consulted together and concluded they must carry her at least half the way.

This was a capital plan for Nelda, and quite romantic, for the _modus portandi_ was a gra.s.s hammock suspended from a long bamboo pole, one end resting on Ransey's shoulder, the other on Fitz's.

Nelda would be talking or singing all the way. But on the return journey she got down more often, because she never went back without a basket well filled with fruit and flowers.

Bob used to trot on in front always. This he deemed it his duty to do.

Was he not a guard?

On rare occasions the Admiral also formed part of the expedition, but he preferred not going to sea in that wobbly boat.

When invited to embark, he would simply look at Babs or Ransey with one wise red eye, and say, "No, thank you, dear. A sea life doesn't quite suit my const.i.tution; and if it is all the same to you, I'll just hop about the beach here until you all return."

It did not take a very long time for the children, as I may still call them, to find all the fish they could conveniently carry. Then they returned to the beach, entered the cave, and cooked their dinner.

They invariably started to go back two or three hours before sunset.

About this cave there was a kind of mystery to the imaginative mind of little Nelda, and she peopled the gloom and darkness far beyond with all sorts of strange beings.

But when one day Ransey Tansey proposed exploring it, she evinced very much reluctance to going herself.

"I'm afraid," she said; "the giants might catch me and kill me."

Fitz laughed, and Ransey a.s.sured her that the cave was not inhabited by even a single giant. It was all imagination.

"There might be snakes," she persisted, "or awful alligators."

Fitz laughed again, and Nelda felt more a.s.sured.

"You see me go, sah!" he said; "Is'e not afraid. Ha, ha! it take one much big giant and plenty big 'gator to flighten dis chile."

He ran out of the cave now, but soon came back carrying a heap of withered gra.s.s and foliage.

Then he s.n.a.t.c.hed up a burning brand.

"Now!" he cried, "dis chile done go to 'vestigate."

Fitz was fond of exploiting a big word, although he never succeeded in p.r.o.nouncing much more than three-quarters of it.

Presently the brave little lad disappeared, for the darkness had swallowed him up.

The cave at its other end turned to the right and then to the left, so that although Fitz lit his fire it could not be seen by those left behind.

Ransey and Nelda were becoming quite uneasy about him, when suddenly his voice was heard in the dark distance, coming nearer and nearer every moment, till he once more stood in the broad glare of day at the main entrance to the cave.

"So glad you've come back, Fitz," cried Ransey, "for we had almost given you up; we thought the 'gators had swallowed you."

Nelda, too, was glad, and so was honest Bob. He ran round and round him, barking.

The echo of the far interior took up the sound and gave back "wowff" for "wowff," much to the dog's astonishment. He made quite sure that another dog was hiding away in the darkness somewhere, and promised himself the infinite pleasure of shaking him out of his skin some day.

But the story of exploration that Fitz had to tell was indeed a wonderful one.

He had found an interior cave, and when he lit his fire, the sight of it, he declared to Ransey, was far more beautiful than Paradise. All around him, he said, was a ma.s.s of icicles, but all of crystal, and on the floor were hundreds and hundreds of great crystal candles.

"I not can splain [explain] propah," he said. "Too much foh one leetle n.i.g.g.ah boy to splain, but all about me dat cave sparkle and shine wid diamonds, rubies, and rainbows."

So before they got home that night they made up their minds to explore the marvellous cave in company.