CHAPTER XXIV.
THREE BOY CRUSOES.
The fate that washed Nick Collins ashore alive was equally kind to Frank and Will Arden.
They clung to a broken timber of the yawl and were driven to land about a mile farther down the beach than the breakers had carried Nick. There, giving up their companion as drowned, they remained until morning.
Scarcely had the morning light begun to show the shapes of things when something happened which, for the moment at least, added to their terrors.
The place where Frank and Will passed the night was on the edge of a clump of trees. When Frank, with the coming of dawn, began to look about him, one of the first things he saw was a weird-looking creature coming out of the woods. He stared at them a while, and then moved toward them.
The boys’ impulse was to run, and they would have yielded to it but for these words, called out in a hoarse voice:
“Don’t be afraid! I won’t harm you!”
This caused Frank and Will to turn again and look at what had seemed to them a wild man or some other strange creature. Now, reassured somewhat by the words they had heard, they stood their ground, and, as the being drew nearer, saw that he was a man.
“I don’t wonder that I scared you, boys,” he said. “Ten years alone on this island have made me look more like beast than man, I suppose. I have to guess at it,” he said, with a grim smile, “for I haven’t looked into a mirror in all that time.”
In a few minutes he told them his story. He was Captain Collins, cast away ten years before, and ever since a prisoner on the island waiting vainly from day to day for a sail. Many had appeared on the horizon, but never near enough to see his signal of distress.
You may be sure that it was with amazement and a great joy in his heart that he learned who the boys were and heard their story, until they came to the part where they said they had parted from Nick and supposed him to be lost.
“Heaven grant that he, too, gained the shore!” exclaimed the father of Nick Collins. “Come, let us look along the beach. Maybe we shall find him.”
As the reader knows, their search was rewarded. Hand in hand with his son, Captain Collins led the way to a rude cabin which the castaway had built for a home. He told the boys a wonderful story of his experience. He alone had remained on the sinking _Star of Hope_ in that storm that sent her to the bottom ten years before.
He had managed to build a raft, and for days after the ship sank he floated about on an unknown sea. Then he landed on a desert island, and it proved to be the goal of his quest.
“The place where the treasure is hidden?” asked Frank.
“Yes.”
“And it is here?”
“Yes. This is Treasure Island.”
“And the treasure,” put in Will. “Where is it?”
“It is here, but not in this exact spot. It is on the other side of the island. I knew the spot from its description the moment I saw it. There I built a hut and kept a signal flying. For a year I watched in vain for a passing ship. Then I decided that I was on the wrong side of the island. I built a boat--it was lost in a storm recently--and came here. I saw that a ship had been here for I found an abandoned water barrel. Evidently it had been brought ashore by some ship’s men, and for some reason never carried back to the vessel. So I moved my stores to this side of the island, and have lived here ever since.”
“Father,” said Nick, “how long have you been sending out messages tied to birds’ legs?”
Captain Collins looked at him in wonder.
“You got one of them, then?” he asked.
Nick told him of the live bird they had seen with something white on a leg and then of the dead one they found in the water with the half-obliterated message.
“The hand of Fate is in this!” exclaimed the captain. “Those two messages you saw are only two of hundreds and hundreds that I have sent out. Trapping wild birds has been my chief occupation all these years. Those that I did not use for food I set free, first tying the messages on them.”
“And the treasure, father. You haven’t told us of that.”
Captain Collins’ face assumed a sad expression.
“Ah, my boy,” he said mournfully, “I found it.”
“And wasn’t there much?” asked Frank, misunderstanding the man’s manner.
“Much!” Captain Collins said, smiling grimly. “I thought it much at first--there must be a million dollars’ worth of it--but I have since learned how little it all is.”
The boys were puzzled.
“You did find it, then, father?”
“Yes, Nick, but what good to me were bars of silver and gold and bags of coins and jewels. They would not buy me a single mouthful of food. They could not bring back the friend I had lost to gain this fortune. It was as if I found so many shells on the beach.”
The boys were silent, seeing now what he meant, and impressed with his words.
“To occupy my mind,” Captain Collins went on, “I located the treasure and dug for it, and, in time, got it all, I guess. Some of it was in casks, some in boxes.”
“What did you do with it?”
“I moved it here.”
“In the hut?” asked Nick, he and the other boys glancing about the place.
“No; I put it in a cave.”
“And it is there now?”
“Yes; at least I suppose so.”
“Don’t you ever go to see?”
“Strange as it may seem to you, Nick, I do not. The reason is that I came to regard it as the cause of all my misery, and I hated that treasure as much as man can hate anything not endowed with life. So I never went near it. One day the waves drove ashore the remnant of a wreck--a sailor’s box. It contained a Bible. How my heart leaped with joy at sight of it! Willingly at that moment I would have given all my gold for it. It made life endurable. It taught me patience; it taught me that contentment of mind and uprightness are better than all the gold in the world. But enough of this, boys; some other time, perhaps, you’ll be interested in hearing more about me. Now, what of the plans of Captain Eccles and Admiral Semmes?”
Nick told him what he knew about it.
“They were on the right track,” said Captain Collins, “and if they weathered the storm are sure to find the island.”
“Is there any chance that they will come here?” asked Nick.
“If they keep on the course they laid out they must pass here.”
“Then let us make some kind of a signal.”
“That’s just what I was thinking of doing, Nick. We will make a new beacon light.”
“Where shall we put it?”
“Not on this side of the island, for they are not likely to look here.”
“Why?”
“Because the treasure is on the other side.”
“Then we’d better put our light over there.”
“By all means.”
“How can we get there?”
“Not by land.”
“Why?”
“There is an impassable swamp between.”
“Then we must sail there. Have you got a boat?”
“No, Nick,” answered the captain, smiling; “but I’ve got you and the other boys to help me build one.”
The boys, of course, were delighted with the idea, and for two weeks they had a fine time taking part in the construction of the boat and exploring the island. The strange flowers, fruits, and birds, the sparkling sea, the shady forests, made the lads feel that they were in fairyland. They thought they would like to live on Treasure Island forever. The days passed like a dream. At the end of a fortnight the boat was finished. It was a rude device, to be sure, but staunch and fit for the service for which it was intended.
“To-morrow we set sail,” announced Captain Collins.
“And the treasure?” asked Frank. “Do we leave it here?”
“Yes, for the present. We shall return, you know.”
But the next morning something happened to cause a decided change in their plans. Just as they reached the boat and were about to embark Nick started and pointed seaward.
“Look!” he cried.
A stately ship was in full sight.