The Crew of the Water Wagtail | Page 6

provisions were lost with the wrecked portion of the ship, so that starvation stared them in the face.
"If only the rum-kegs had been saved," said one of the men, when they assembled, after searching the island, to discuss their prospects, "we might, at least, have led a merry life while it lasted."
"Humph! Much good that would do you when you came to think over it in the next world," said Grummidge contemptuously.
"I don't believe in the next world," returned the first speaker gruffly.
"A blind man says he doesn't see the sun, and don't believe in it," rejoined Grummidge: "does that prove that there's no sun?"
Here Master Trench interposed.
"My lads," he said, "don't you think that instead of talking rubbish it would be wise to scatter yourselves along the coast and see what you can pick up from the wreck? Depend on't some of the provisions have been stranded among the rocks, and, as they will be smashed to pieces before long, the sooner we go about it the better. The truth is, that while you have been wastin' your time running about the island, Master Burns and I have been doin' this, an' we've saved some things already--among them a barrel of pork. Come, rouse up and go to work--some to the shore, others to make a camp in the bush."
This advice seemed so good that the men acted on it at once, with the result that before dark they had rescued two more barrels of pork and a barrel of flour from the grasp of the sea, besides some cases of goods which they had not taken time to examine.
Returning from the shore together, laden with various rescued articles, Paul and Oliver halted and sat down on a rock to rest for a few minutes.
"Olly," said the former, "what was that I saw you wrapping up in a bit of tarred canvas, and stuffing so carefully under the breast of your coat, soon after the ship struck?"
"Mother's last letter to me," said the boy, with a flush of pleasure as he tapped his breast. "I have it safe here, and scarcely damaged at all."
"Strange," remarked Paul, as he pulled a well-covered packet from his own breast-pocket; "strange that your mind and mine should have been running on the same subject. See here, this is my mother's last gift to me before she died--a letter, too, but it is God's letter to fallen man."
With great care the young man unrolled the packet and displayed a well-worn manuscript copy of a portion of the Gospel of John.
"This is copied," he said, "from the translation of God's Word by the great Wycliffe. It was given to my mother by an old friend, and was, as I have said, her parting gift to me."
The friends were interrupted in their examination of this interesting M.S. by the arrival of one of the sailors, with whom they returned to the encampment in the bush.
CHAPTER THREE.
FIRST EXPERIENCES ON THE ISLAND.
A wonderfully picturesque appearance did these shipwrecked mariners present that night when, under the shelter of the shrubbery that crowned their small island, they kindled several camp-fires, and busied themselves in preparing supper.
As there was no law in the island--and our skipper, having lost his ship, forbore to assert any right to command--every one naturally did what seemed right in his own eyes.
As yet there had arisen no bone of contention among them. Of food they had secured enough for at least a few days. Fire they had procured by means of flint, steel, and tinder. A clear spring furnished them with water, and ships' buckets washed ashore enabled them to convey the same to their encampment. Fortunately, no rum-kegs had been found, so that evil passions were not stirred up, and, on the whole, the first night on the island was spent in a fair degree of harmony--considering the character of the men.
Those who had been kindred souls on board ship naturally drew together on shore, and kindled their several fires apart. Thus it came to pass that the skipper and his son, the two mates, and Paul Burns found themselves assembled round the same fire.
But the two mates, it is right to add, were only sympathetic in a small degree, because of their former position as officers, and their recent imprisonment together. In reality they were men of no principle and of weak character, whose tendency was always to throw in their lot with the winning side. Being a little uncertain as to which was the winning side that night, they had the wisdom to keep their own counsel.
Oliver presided over the culinary department.
"You see, I'm rather fond of cookin'," he said, apologetically, "that's why I take it in hand."
"Ah, that comes of his bein' a good boy to his mother," said Master Trench in