Dave Porter on Cave Island: or, A Schoolboy's Mysterious Mission

“Not quite as bad as that. But we came down some distance, I admit.”

“Flash that light around, Dave, and let us see where we are.”

“I will if the light hasn’t been smashed,” replied our hero. “I rolled over it half a dozen times.”

He brought out the little flashlight and tried it. Fortunately, it was still in working order. As the rays fell around the lads, they stared at each other, blankly.

“What do you make of this, Dave?”

“Looks as if it was cut out of the solid rock, Roger.”

“It certainly is some cave. Wonder where it leads to?”

“We might follow the opening and find out.”

“Excuse me, I’d rather climb out the way we came in.”

“It certainly doesn’t look very inviting.”

The two boys found themselves in an irregular opening of the rocks, fifty feet wide and perhaps twice that in length. On one side was the smooth slope down which they had come; on the other a dark hole that looked as if it might lead to some bottomless pit. A jagged rock in the center of the underground chamber had been the means of stopping them from dropping to the unknown depths below them.

“We were lucky to hit this rock,” said Dave, with something like a shiver. “If we hadn’t – ” He did not finish.

“Let us get out. It gives me the creeps to stay here,” returned his chum.

“All right, Roger, I’m willing. But it is going to be hard work crawling back, those rocks are so smooth.”

“We’ve got to get back!”

“I can’t hold the light and climb too. And if I place it on the rocks it may roll away and go down into that hole,” went on our hero.

“Oh, put it in your pocket again and we’ll try to climb back in the dark. We know the direction.”

Dave did as his chum suggested, and then commenced a climb that neither of the lads ever forgot. The rocks were so smooth in spots that at times to get a foothold was next to impossible. Once Roger slid back several feet and would have gone to the bottom had not Dave caught and held him.

“Take it slowly, Roger,” was our hero’s advice. “If you go to the bottom, you may be killed!”

“I’ll hang – on!” gasped the other. “But I wi-wish I was out – of – th-this!”

“Well, I wish the same.”

It took fully a quarter of an hour longer to get out of the rocky cave, and when the boys reached the surface of the earth they were so exhausted they could do little but sit on the ground and pant for breath.

“It’s Cave Island right enough,” was the comment of the senator’s son. “But excuse me from tumbling into any more such openings!”

“I guess the best thing we can do is to go back to the boat,” said Dave. “We can’t discover much in this darkness. We can start out again early in the morning.”

“All right, back to the boat it is,” and the pair set out on the return along the sandy shore.

“I see a light!” cried Dave, after about half the distance to where the rowboat had been left was covered. And he pointed to a spot inland, among the trees.

“Maybe it’s a camp of some sort,” replied Roger. “It seems to be quite a distance away.”

“Shall we go and see what it is?”

“Hadn’t we better get the others first, Dave?”

“All right, if you think best.”

So they continued on the way to where the rowboat had been left. They came up to find that Captain Sanders and Phil had not yet returned. Smiley was snoring on the sand, while Billy Dill sat near by on guard.

“Find anybody?” queried the old tar, eagerly.

“We found one of the caves, and we saw a light at a distance,” answered Dave. “We want to investigate that light, as soon as the others get back.”

Dave and Roger sat down, to rest and to wait, and thus another half-hour went by. With nothing else to do, Billy Dill took a nap, and the boys allowed the old sailor to slumber on.

“It’s queer the captain and Phil don’t return,” remarked Roger, presently. “They must have gone much further than we did.”

“Maybe they fell into one of those caves, Roger.”

“Oh, I trust not!”

Another half-hour went by and still the others did not put in an appearance. By this time Dave was getting worried.

“Let us take a walk along the shore and look for them,” he said, and Roger agreed, and they started off.

They had covered less than a quarter of a mile when they came in sight of a campfire, well-hidden between the rough rocks back from the water’s edge. Around the campfire were huddled the forms of several men, evidently sailors.

“Perhaps those men are from the Emma Brower,” said Dave, in a low tone.

“I don’t see anything of Captain Sanders and Phil,” remarked the senator’s son.

“No. And yet they must have seen this campfire, if they came this way. What can it mean, Dave?”

“I don’t know.”

“Shall we go up to the campfire and talk to those fellows?”

“I don’t see why not. I am not afraid of them.”

“Do you see anybody that looks like Jasniff or Merwell?”

“No, those fellows are all plain sailors, by their outfits.”

Dave continued to advance and Roger followed, and neither halted until he was within the glow of the campfire. Then Dave called out:

“Hello, messmates!”

At this cry the four sailors around the fire sprang to their feet. At a glance Dave and Roger saw that they were in tatters, and that they looked hungry and careworn.

“Hello, yourself!” answered one of the tars, stepping towards the boys. “Who are you?”

“Passengers from the Golden Eagle,” answered Dave.

“Oh, some more of that crowd, eh?” cried the tar.

“Then you’ve seen the others, – the captain and a young fellow like ourselves?” queried Roger.

“Yes, they were here only a short while ago.”

“They said they’d be back, and take us aboard an’ git us something to eat,” put in a second of the sailors.

“An’ we need that grub putty bad, we do,” added a third.

“Ain’t had no decent meal since we got wrecked,” came from the fourth. “A few fish an’ birds, an’ that’s all.”

“You are from the Emma Brower?” questioned Dave, eagerly.

“You’ve struck it, messmate. She went down in the storm an’ we come putty nigh goin’ down with her.”

“Well, you shall have all you want to eat in a little while. Tell me where the others of our crowd went.”

“They went after the two chaps as ran away.”

“Ran away?” cried Dave. “From where?”

“From here.”

“They must have been Jasniff and Merwell!” murmured Roger.

“Who were those fellows?” asked our hero.

“Two passengers from the bark. They came ashore with us, and they stayed with us until your captain and the other young fellow come along. Then they up anchors and away like the old Nick was after ’em,” explained the tar who had first spoken.

“Were they young fellows like ourselves?”

“Yes, – a bit older, maybe. Named Ford and Smith.”

“They must have been Jasniff and Merwell,” said Dave, to his chum.

“I wonder if they managed to save the jewels,” whispered the senator’s son.

“Did they have any baggage?” asked Dave of the sailors.

“Baggage? Not much! We didn’t have no time for baggage when the ship went down. It was every man fer himself. The cap’n got off in one boat with some o’ the passengers, an’ the mate got off with some of the crew in another boat, an’ we got off by ourselves. It was blowin’ big guns, I can tell ye, an’ it looks like we would be swamped most every minit. I knowed about this island an’ I steered in this direction as well as I could, an’ by sheer good luck we struck the shore – an’ here we are.”

“What became of the other boats?”

“Ain’t seen nuthin’ of ’em yet.”

“Is that your boat was split in two, between the rocks in that direction?” and Dave pointed to where such a craft had been found by him and Roger.

“That’s her, messmate. Putty badly used up, eh?”

“And you are quite sure those two passengers had no baggage?” went on our hero, after a pause.

“Nary a thing, messmate, excepting wot they wore. It wasn’t no time to think o’ baggage, it was a time to think o’ what to do to save your life!”

CHAPTER XXII – THE HURRICANE

“What direction did those fellows who ran away take?” asked Dave.

“That’s the way they went,” answered one of the sailors, pointing to some heavy undergrowth behind the camping-out spot.

“Where does that lead to, do you know?” asked the senator’s son.

“Leads to a spring o’ fresh water an’ half a dozen big caves,” was the reply.

“Caves?” queried Dave. “Then perhaps the fellows, who ran away, took to one of the caves.”

“Like as not, messmate. Them two chaps have been explorin’ them caves ever since we came ashore.”

“Let us walk back and have a look,” suggested our hero. “We may be able to give Phil and Captain Sanders some assistance.”

Without further delay, the two boys left the camp of the castaways and hurried along a small trail through the bushes. They soon came to a rocky depression in the midst of which was a tiny spring.

“That water looks good,” exclaimed Dave. “Let us get a drink.”

“Perhaps it is poisonous, Dave.”

“If it was, I think those sailors would have warned us.”

They found the water fairly cold and of a good flavor, and each drank his fill. Then Dave flashed the electric light around. Ahead they made out a series of rocks, with here and there a gloomy opening, leading to unknown depths.

“This is Cave Island and no mistake,” was our hero’s comment. “The place seems to be fairly honeycombed.”

“Be careful that you don’t go into a hole and drop out of sight,” warned his chum.

They walked to the entrance of one of the caves and peered in. All was dark and silent. Then they went to the next cave. Here they caught a glimmer of light.

“Somebody is moving in here!” exclaimed Dave. “A man with a torch!”

They waited, and presently saw that two persons were approaching slowly, having to pick their way over the uneven rocks.

“They are the captain and Phil,” cried Roger, and set up a faint call.

“Hello! Who is that?” answered the captain of the Golden Eagle.

“Dave and Roger!” cried Phil. “Oh, say,” he added, eagerly, “we’ve seen Jasniff and Merwell!”

“So we suspected,” answered Dave. “But you didn’t catch them?”

“No, they got away from us,” returned Captain Sanders.

“In this cave?” queried Roger.

“Yes.”

“But if they are in here, we can get them sooner or later,” put in Dave.

“No, my lad. There are several openings to these caves. We found one at the far end, and I reckon those rascals got away through it.”

“Did you speak to them at all?” asked our hero.

“Didn’t get time,” answered Phil. “The minute they saw us they ran like frightened deer.”

“Did they have any baggage, Phil?”

“Not that I could see. I rather fancied Jasniff had a small bundle under his coat, but I may have been mistaken.”

“The sailors said they came ashore without baggage. Perhaps the jewels went down with the bark.”

“Oh, I think they’d make an effort to save such costly gems – anybody would.”

“Not if they were thoroughly scared,” broke in Captain Sanders. “A person who is thoroughly scared forgets everything but to save his life.”

“Then you haven’t any idea where they went to?”

“No, lad. But I don’t think they’ll get off this island in a hurry.”

There was nothing to do but to return to where the four sailors were encamped. Then the whole party proceeded to where Billy Dill and Smiley had been left.

“I don’t think it will be safe to try to get through those breakers in the darkness,” said Captain Sanders. “We may as well make ourselves comfortable until morning. We have plenty of grub on hand, so you fellows shall have your fill,” he went on, to the castaways.

The sailors were glad enough to build another campfire, close to the landing-place, and here they were served with all the food and drink they wanted, which put them in good humor. They related the particulars of how the Emma Brower had gone down, and of how one boat after another had put off in the storm. It had been a time of great excitement, such as none of them were liable to ever forget.

The boys were worn out from their exertions and willing enough to rest. They fixed up some beds of boughs and were soon in the land of dreams. The sailors rested also, each, however, taking an hour at watching, by orders of Captain Sanders.

It was about five o’clock in the morning when Dave awoke, to find the wind blowing furiously. Two of the sailors were busy stamping out the campfire, for the burning brands were flying in all directions, threatening to set fire to the undergrowth.

“What’s this?” he asked of Captain Sanders.

“No telling, lad,” was the grave reply. “Looks like a pretty big blow.”

“More like a hurricane!” snorted old Billy Dill. “The wind is growin’ wuss each minit!”

“Draw that boat up into the bushes and fasten it well,” ordered the captain. “We don’t want to have it stove in or floated off by the breakers.” And the rowboat was carried to a place of safety.

“Where is the ship?” asked Roger.

“Slipped away when the blow came up,” answered the captain. “An’ I hope the mate knows enough to keep away,” he added, gravely.

Soon it started to rain, first a few scattering drops and then a perfect deluge. The castaways spoke of a cave that was near by, and all hurried in that direction, taking the stores from the boat with them.

“How long will this last, do you think?” asked Phil, of the master of the Golden Eagle.

“No telling. Maybe only to-day, maybe several days.”

“If it last several days, we’ll have a time of it getting food,” broke in the senator’s son.

“We’ll watch out for fish and turtles,” said Billy Dill. “Nothin’ like turtles when you are good an’ hungry.”

“That’s true,” answered Dave. He had not forgotten the big turtle the old tar had managed to catch down on one of the islands in the South Seas.

Soon it was raining so hard that but little could be seen beyond the entrance to the cave. The wind moaned and shrieked throughout the cavern, which happened to have several entrances. Once it became so strong that it almost lifted the boys from their feet. The rain drove in at times, and they had to get into a split in the rocks to keep dry.

“Hark! what was that?” cried Roger, during a lull in the wind.

“I heard thunder; that’s all,” answered Phil.

“I think a tree must have been struck by lightning,” answered Captain Sanders. “The lightning is getting pretty fierce,” he added, as a brilliant illumination filled the cavern.

“Wonder where Jasniff and Merwell are?” whispered Phil, to his chums, “I’ll wager this storm scares ’em half to death.”

“Yes, and those four Englishmen,” added Dave. “Don’t forget that they were coming to this island.”

Slowly the hours of the morning dragged by. There was no let-up in the hurricane, for such it really proved to be. The wind blew strongly all the time, but occasionally would come a heavy blast that fairly made the island tremble. The lightning had died away somewhat, but now and then would come a great flash, followed by a crash and rumble that would echo and reëcho among the rocks.

“Just look at the ocean!” cried Dave, as he and his chums walked to one corner of the entrance to gaze out.

“The waves seem to be mountain-high,” returned Phil. “You wouldn’t think it possible a ship could live on such a sea.”

“Well, it is mighty dangerous, Phil; you know that as well as I do.”

“I hope the Golden Eagle weathers the storm.”

“We all hope that.”

Dinner was a rather scanty meal, cooked with great difficulty in a hollow of the rocks. The smoke from the fire rolled and swirled in all directions, nearly blinding everybody. But the repast was better than nothing, and nobody grumbled.

By nightfall the rain ceased. But the wind was almost as strong as ever, and when those in the cave ventured outside they had to be on guard, for fear a flying tree-branch would come down on their heads.

Captain Sanders was much worried over the safety of his vessel, but he did not let on to the boys, since it would have done no good. But the lads understood, and they, too, were more or less alarmed, remembering the fate that had overtaken the Emma Brower in a storm that had been no worse than the present one.

With so much rain driving in, the cave was a damp place, and the boys were glad enough to go outside. They looked for wood that might be easily dried, and after much difficulty, succeeded in starting up a new campfire, around which the whole crowd gathered.

“I’m goin’ to try my luck along shore,” said Billy Dill, and started off with Dave, Phil, and Roger, to see if any fish or turtles could be located. They found the shore strewn with wreckage.

“Oh, Billy, can this be from our ship?” exclaimed Phil, in alarm.

“I don’t think so, lad. Looks to me like it had been in the water some days. I reckon it’s from the Emma Brower, or some other craft.”

In the wreckage they found the remains of several boxes and barrels. But the contents had become water-soaked or had sunk to the bottom of the sea; so there was nothing in the shape of food for them. They also came across the mainmast of the bark, with some of the stays still dragging around it.

“That will do for a pole, in case we wish to hoist a flag,” suggested the senator’s son.

They found neither fish nor turtles, and at last had to return to the campfire disappointed. There was next to nothing to eat for supper.

“Well, better luck in the morning,” said Captain Sanders, with an air of cheerfulness he did not feel. “As soon as this wind dies down our ship will come back, and then we’ll have all we want to eat.”

It was a long, dreary night that followed, and the boys were glad to behold the sun come up brightly in the morning. Dave was the first up, but his chums quickly followed, and all went down to the beach, to look for fish and also to see if the Golden Eagle was anywhere in sight.

This time they had better luck, so far as food was concerned. In a hollow they found over a score of fish that had been cast from the ocean by the breakers, and they also found a fine turtle that was pinned down by a fallen tree.

“That’s a new way to catch a turtle,” remarked Dave. “It’s a regular trap.”

“Turtle soup, yum! yum!” murmured Phil.

“And broiled fish, – all you want, too!” added Roger, smacking his lips.

When they got back to the camp they found that the fire had been renewed, and soon the appetizing odor of broiling fish filled the air. Then Captain Sanders and one of the castaway sailors came in from a walk in another direction, carrying an airtight canister, which, on being opened, was found to contain fancy crackers.

“There is a good deal of wreckage down on the beach,” said the captain. “We’ll inspect it after breakfast.”

Having eaten their fill of the fish and the crackers, and leaving Billy Dill and some of the others busy making turtle soup, the boys and Captain Sanders took another walk along the beach, to look over the wreckage and also see if they could sight the Golden Eagle, or locate Jasniff or Merwell.

“I hope we can find those two fellows,” said Dave. “I can stand this suspense no longer. I must know what has become of those jewels!”

CHAPTER XXIII – A STRANGE DISCOVERY

A half-mile was covered when, on turning a point of rocks, the boys and the captain came to a sandy cove. Here was more of the wreckage, and the whole party ran down to the beach to investigate.

Boxes, barrels, and bits of timber were strewn from one end of the cove to the other, and in the mass were a number of things of more or less value – timber, food, and some clothing. There was also a trunk, but it was open and empty.

“Look!” cried Dave, suddenly, and pointed to a small, black leather case, that rested on some of the wreckage.

“What is it?” queried Phil and Roger, in a breath.

Dave did not reply, for he was crawling over the wreckage with care. Soon he reached the spot where the black leather case rested, caught on a nail, and he picked it up. The clasp was undone and the case fell open, revealing the interior, which was lined with white plush.

“Empty!” murmured Dave, sadly. “Empty!” There was a groan in his voice as he uttered the word.

“What is it, Dave?” asked the senator’s son, although he and Phil guessed the truth.

“It’s the Carwith jewel-case,” was the answer. “The very case that Mr. Carwith left with Mr. Wadsworth!”

“Are you certain?” demanded Phil.

“Yes, for here is the name, ‘Ridgewood Osgood Carwith,’ stamped in gold on the top.”

“And empty,” murmured the captain. “This looks bad,” and he shook his head, thoughtfully.

“Maybe Jasniff and Merwell took the jewels from the case,” suggested Roger, hopefully.

“It is possible, Roger. But – but – I am afraid the jewels are at the bottom of the ocean,” answered Dave, and his face showed how downcast he felt.

“They might have taken the jewels and divided them between themselves,” said Phil. “Maybe they put them in money-belts, or something like that. They might think that the sailors would rob them, if they saw the case.”

“It’s possible, Phil, and I hope you are right,” answered our hero. But in his heart he was still afraid that the gems had gone to the bottom of the Atlantic.

“I think we had better climb to the top of yonder rise and take a look around the island,” said the captain. “For all we know, the Golden Eagle may be on the other side. I sincerely hope she has weathered the storm.”

Placing the jewel-case in a safe place between the rocks, the party commenced to climb the rise of ground the captain had pointed out. This was no easy task, since the rocks were rough and there were many openings, leading to the caves below.

“We don’t want another tumble,” remarked Roger to Dave.

“Hardly, Roger; once was enough.”

The sun had come out strongly, consequently the water was drying away rapidly. It was very warm, and the boys were glad that they had donned thin clothing on leaving the ship.

At last they reached the top of the rise and from that elevation were able to see all but the southern end of Cave Island, which was hidden by a growth of palms.

Not a ship of any kind was in sight, much to the captain’s disappointment.

“Must have had to sail away a good many miles,” said Dave.

“Either that, lad, or else the storm caused more or less trouble.”

From the elevation, all took a good look at every part of the island that could be seen. They saw several other rocky elevations and the entrances to caves innumerable.

“Tell you one thing,” remarked Phil. “If there was any truth in that story of a pirates’ treasure, the pirates would have plenty of places where to hide the hoard.”

“Humph! I don’t believe in the treasure and never will,” returned Roger. “If the treasure was ever here, you can make up your mind that somebody got hold of it long before this.”

“If those Englishmen came here, it is queer that we don’t see some trace of them,” said Captain Sanders.

“Maybe they are like Jasniff and Merwell, keeping out of sight,” ventured Dave.

“That may be true.”

“I think I see some figures moving down near the shore over there,” continued Roger, after another look around. “But they are so far off I am not sure. They may be animals.”

“They look like two men to me,” exclaimed Dave, after a long look. “What if they should be Jasniff and Merwell! Oh, let us walk there and make sure!”

“That’s a good, stiff walk,” answered Captain Sanders. “We can’t go from here very well – unless we want to climb over some rough rocks. It would be better to go down and follow the shore.”

“Then let us do that. It won’t do us any good to go back to where we left the others, now the ship isn’t in sight.”

But the captain demurred, and finally it was agreed to return to camp and start out for the other side of the island directly after dinner.

“Turtle soup for all hands!” announced Billy Dill, proudly. “Best ever made, too.”

“It certainly smells good,” answered Dave.

The turtle soup proved both palatable and nourishing, and, eaten with crackers, made a good meal.

“We’ll take some crackers and fish along,” said the captain, to the boys, when they were preparing to leave the camp again. “For there is no telling how soon we’ll get back. It may take us longer than we think to reach the other side of this island.”