Read Online The Castaways of the Flag by Jules Verne - Free Book Online

talked in low tones.
     
                "So here
we are in harbour, Mr. Fritz," said the boatswain; "I knew we should
end by getting there. If it isn't, properly speaking, a harbour, you will agree
at any rate that it is ever so much better than anchoring among rocks. Our boat
is safe for the night. To-morrow we will look into things."
     
                "I envy
you your cheerfulness, my dear Block," Fritz answered. "This
neighbourhood does not inspire me with any confidence, and our position is
anything but comfortable near a coast whose bearings we do not even know."
     
                "The
coast is a coast, Mr. Fritz. It has got creeks and beaches and rocks; it is
made like any other, and I don't suppose it will sink from under our feet. As
for the question of leaving it, or of settling on it, we will decide that
later."
     
                "Anyhow,
Block, I hope we shall not be obliged to put to sea again before the captain
has had a little time to rest and recover. So if the spot is deserted, if it
has resources to offer, and we run no risk of falling into the hands of
natives, we must stay here some time."
     
                "Deserted
it certainly seems to be so far," the boatswain replied, "and to my
thinking, it is better it should be."
     
                "I think
so, too, Block, and I think that we shall be able to renew our provisions by
fishing, if we can't by hunting."
     
                "As you
say, sir. Then, if the game here only amounts to sea-birds which one can't live
on, we will hunt in the forests and plains inland and make up our fishing that
way. Without guns, of course –"
     
                "What
brutes they were, Block, not even to leave us any firearms!"
     
                '' They were
perfectly right—in their own interests, you understand," the boatswain
replied. "Before we let go I could not have resisted the temptation to
shoot at the head of that rascal Borupt—the treacherous hound!"
     
                "Traitors
all," Fritz added; "all of them who stood in with him."
     
                "Well, they
shall pay for their treachery some day!" John Block declared.
     
                "Did you
hear anything, bos'un?" Fritz asked suddenly, listening intently.
     
                "No;
that sound is only the ripples along the shore. There is nothing to worry
about, so far, and although the night is as dark as the bottom of the hold I've
got good eyes."
     
                "Well,
don't shut them for a moment, Block; let us be prepared for anything."
     
                "The
hawser is ready to be cast off," the boatswain answered. "If need be,
we shall only have to seize the oars, and with one shove with the boat-hook
I'll guarantee to drive the boat a good twenty yards from the rocks."
     
                More than once,
however, during the night, Fritz and the boatswain were set on the alert. They
thought they could hear a crawling sound upon the sandy shore.
     
                Deep silence
reigned. The breeze had died away; the sea had fallen to a calm. A slight surf
breaking at the foot of the rocks was all that could be heard. A few birds, a
very few,, gulls and sea-mews flying in from the sea, sought their crannies in
the cliffs. Nothing disturbed the first night passed upon the shore.
     
                Next morning
all were astir at daybreak, and it was with sinking hearts that they examined
the coast on which they had found refuge.
     
                Fritz had
been able to see part of it the day before, when it was a mile or so away.
Viewed from that point it extended ten or twelve miles east and west. From the
promontory at the foot of which the boat was moored, only a fifth of that, at
most, could be seen, shut in between two angles with the sea beyond, clear and
lucent on the right hand but still dark upon the left. The shore