Danny Dunn on a Desert Island Page 3

  Joe yelled, “What about the supplies?”

  “Don’t try to get them all,” said the Professor. “Just grab whatever you can and let’s go. We’re sinking.”

  While the men held the raft close to the cockpit by its rope, the two boys stepped down into it. Dr. Grimes passed them some boxes and bundles, and then he and the Professor stepped across into the raft. They pulled in the rope.

  Just in time. The tail of the plane tilted high, and then the whole craft slid down into the sea.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Island

  The first rays of the sun danced across the waves, making the sea sparkle like an emerald, and turning the little rubber raft into a golden boat. The four voyagers, damp and chilled and weary, lifted their faces to the warmth of the new day and felt life return to their limbs.

  Professor Bullfinch looked slowly about the horizon. “Not a sign of land,” he said. “But then, I didn’t expect to see any. We have drifted during the night.”

  “Thank heaven the rain stopped,” Dr. Grimes said. “I thought for a while we were going to be filled and sunk.”

  “I wonder where we are?” said Danny, shifting his position cautiously. It was a strange sensation to know that nothing but a thin skin of rubberized canvas separated him from the Pacific Ocean. He took out his compass. “South is that way.”

  “What good does that do us?” Grimes said glumly. “We don’t know how far off course we were blown, or in what direction. We don’t know which way we drifted, nor how far.”

  “Still, we’re lucky,” said Professor Bullfinch, with his customary tranquility. “We were able to launch the raft. Fortunately, the plane fell in the sea…”

  “Fortunately?” Joe said. “What’s so fortunate about it?”

  “Mountain peaks are a good deal harder to fall on,” the Professor said drily.

  “Oh. That’s right.”

  “We were lucky too, that we were able to put a few things into the raft,” the Professor went on. “For instance, that box of army K rations. Why not open it now, Joe, and let’s all have breakfast.”

  Joe didn’t need to be invited twice. He cut open the waterproof wrapping of the box with his pocketknife, and passed out the flat containers. Each held a bar of dried meat, a bar of chocolate, and a bar of dried fruit, as well as some jam, crackers, and either lemonade powder or powdered coffee.

  As they munched, some large brown birds appeared, balancing in the air above the raft, their long wings moving silently as they kept themselves aloft.

  “Vultures!” Joe cried with his mouth full. “Go away! We’re not dead yet.”

  “They aren’t vultures,” said the Professor, “but boobies.”

  “How do you know they’re boobies? They haven’t done anything stupid yet.”

  “It’s only what they’re called, Joe.”

  “They certainly look beautiful in flight,” said Danny. “Look how their wings catch the air currents.”

  “They’d look more beautiful in a plate with gravy and mashed potatoes,” Joe grinned.

  “I don’t think you’d enjoy them. They are fish-eaters, and they have a strong, fishy taste,” said the Professor.

  “We couldn’t cook them in the raft anyway,” Danny added.

  “Gee, that’s right,” said Joe. “We haven’t any potatoes.”

  Danny sat erect so suddenly that the raft trembled. “Birds!” he exclaimed. “Of course!”

  “Take it easy, Dan. You’ll upset us,” the Professor cautioned.

  “But Professor, listen! If there are birds, maybe we’re near shore. After all, they have to nest somewhere.”

  “Why, it’s true that boobies nest on shore,” the Professor said. “But I don’t know—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Joe put in gloomily. “There’s another storm coming, and we’ll probably be swamped this time.”

  “A storm?”

  “Sure. Look at that big cloud over there.”

  The Professor stared. Then he exclaimed, “That’s the land!”

  “Ooh, he’s gone crazy,” Joe moaned. “He can’t tell solid land from a cloud. Next he’ll be seeing camels and palm trees!”

  “Not at all,” the Professor said, shaking his head. “You will observe that that cloud isn’t moving. It’s the warm air rising from the ground and condensing in the upper atmosphere.”

  “You’re right!” Dr. Grimes said. “It must be at least two and a half or three miles away, since that’s as far as one can see over the earth’s curve from a height like ours. Let’s make for it. We may have a long way to paddle.”

  There were paddles stowed in the bottom of the raft, and each of them seized one. They had to reach out over the inflated sides of the raft to touch the water, so that paddling was an awkward job. Joe and Danny took the front, and the Professor and Dr. Grimes, with their longer arms and stronger strokes, the rear. It took them a little while to get the rhythm and dip their paddles in unison. Danny called out the stroke like a coxswain.

  After an hour they could see the loom of the land. Another hour of hot, continuous labor brought them close enough to make out that it was a large island towering up to a peak in the center. They could see the white foam of breakers at the foot of the cliffs, and they began paddling their little craft along the coastline while still some distance away.

  “There. That looks like a beach where we can land,” Joe said.

  They all saw the white gleam of sand among the reddish-brown rocks. They were dripping with sweat, but the harder they paddled, the slower they seemed to go. The tide was against them. They struggled on, until they drew near the arms of a bay that sheltered the little beach.

  “When we get into that cove, the waves will carry us the rest of the way,” Dr. Grimes panted.

  “If they don’t dash us against the rocks,” cautioned the Professor. “Be ready to steer—”

  A point of jagged stone stuck up out of the water a few yards ahead. Even as he spoke, the crest of a great comber rushed them straight for it.

  For an instant it seemed that they would be hurled upon it. Both Danny and Joe thrust out their paddles. The raft almost capsized; there was a jarring thump, but the paddles held firm and they heaved themselves past the rock.

  The next wave carried them almost to the beach. The boys scrambled overboard into the surf, and pulled the raft up on the sand.

  “Whew! Solid ground!” said Danny.

  Joe knelt down and kissed the beach. “I always hated sand in my mouth before,” he said, “but now—I love you, island.”

  The Professor, shading his eyes with his hand, was peering about. The other three, falling silent, turned to look, too.

  They stood on a small crescent-shaped beach, no more than fifty paces long and perhaps ten wide. On either side of them two arms of jumbled reddish blocks of stone stretched down to the water. Beyond were steep cliffs, rising fifteen or twenty feet straight out of the water to ledges where a few plants had seized a foothold. Inland, where the beach ended, thorny trees and cactus grew among the rocks, and farther on, a regular jungle of dark, dense trees began. The ground sloped sharply upward and in the distance, among masses of foliage, a single mountain peak rose, bare and menacing.

  From the jungle came the whistles and calls of unfamiliar birds, and nearer at hand, among the rocks, great lizards with spiky crests scuttled away. A huge turtle, large enough for Danny to sit on, lumbered swiftly down to the sea, plunged in like a barge and disappeared.

  In the face of that peaceful but utterly strange scene, the four travelers drew closer together.

  “Wonder where we are?” Joe said at last.

  “At a guess,” said Dr. Grimes, “I would say we were somewhere in or near the Galapagos Islands.”

  “You’re probably right,” the Professor agreed. “If our plane was blown westwar
d, and our raft was carried still farther westward on the current, the Galapagos Islands would be the likeliest land. They are chiefly volcanic islands, and this appears to be so. Furthermore, those lizards—iguanas, I believe—and those thorny trees are quite typical of the Galapagos Islands.”

  “Then we are on, or near, the equator,” Dr. Grimes said.

  “Yes. Anywhere from six to eight hundred miles from the mainland. That is, if this is really one of the Galapagos.”

  They picked up the precious raft and carried it well up out of the reach of the tide. Then they unloaded it, setting their supplies out in a neat row.

  Danny said, “I think we ought to explore. Let’s find out how big the island is.”

  “No,” Joe grumbled. “Not until we’ve got some meals planned.”

  “Ridiculous!” Dr. Grimes exploded. “We don’t know where we are. There may be savage beasts, or even savage people. Security is our most important concern. Every stranger must be considered an enemy—”

  “I don’t agree,” said the Professor. “I’ll consider my surroundings friendly until they’re proved otherwise.”

  “But we must have weapons,” Dr. Grimes insisted. “Our rifles are gone with the plane. We ought to make spears, bows, or clubs—”

  “If there are strangers, our weapons will only bring out their weapons,” the Professor said. “I think a shelter would be the best idea. I don’t like the idea of sleeping out in the open. What if there’s a storm?”

  “But a shelter’s no good unless we have something to eat in it,” Joe complained.

  “What about fresh water?” Danny put in.

  “Spears and bows—” Dr. Grimes repeated. “We need a fire, too.”

  “That’s right, but we ought to have something to cook over it—” said Joe.

  “A fire—”

  “Spears—”

  “Food—”

  “Quiet!” snapped the Professor, in so loud and sharp a tone that the others jumped. They had rarely heard him raise his voice.

  He glanced from one to another. Then he smiled. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to sound angry, but I had no choice. It appears that the very first thing we need is government.”

  “Government? Are you out of your mind?” said Dr. Grimes.

  “I don’t think so. Are we going to be a democracy or a—a kingdom? Because if we are a democracy, then we ought to decide all important issues—such as what we ought to do and when to do it—by voting. That way we’ll save time and do what most of us think ought to be done.”

  “Okay with me,” said Danny, and Joe nodded.

  Dr. Grimes frowned. “Do you think the boys should have equal votes with us?”

  “Why not? They’ll have to work just as hard as we will.”

  “Hm! Very well. I agree. Let’s put the matter to a vote.”

  “Before we do that,” said the Professor, “I suggest that we make a list. Let’s see. The inside of this K-ration carton will do.”

  He ripped out a square of waxed cardboard, then he took a stub of pencil from his pocket.

  “Food, water, shelter, weapons,” he said as he wrote. “Hm! Seems to me I made this list once before! Anything else?”

  “Exploring,” said Danny.

  “We’ll do that as we search for food and water, I should think. What else?”

  “Building a signal fire,” said Dr. Grimes.

  “Yes. Anything more? Then let’s begin.”

  When the votes were taken, it was found that all four of them agreed that fresh water and a shelter came first. They still had some K rations left, so food could be postponed for the time being. As for weapons, and signaling, all but Dr. Grimes voted to put them off for the moment.

  “That’s settled, then,” said the Professor. “I’ll put the list in this box, and if anything more occurs to us we can jot it down and vote on it later. Now, since water and a shelter come first, I suggest that we divide into two parties. Suppose Dan and I tackle the shelter. And Grimes, there’s a collapsible bucket in the raft; why don’t you and Joe search for fresh water?”

  Dr. Grimes nodded.

  “One more thing,” said the Professor earnestly. “Whatever you do—be careful. We don’t know what lies in that jungle.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Back to the Stone Age

  When Joe and Dr. Grimes had gone, the Professor and Danny climbed up to a ledge on the fringe of the forest. Here there was a kind of pocket of earth where some coarse grass grew, and from this point they could look down upon the beach and over the tumbled expanse of smooth rocks.

  “Most of that is lava flow,” the Professor explained. “This island obviously is an extinct volcano.”

  “Well, I hope it doesn’t decide to go back in business,” said Danny. Then, more seriously, he added, “Oh, I wanted to ask you something, Professor Bullfinch.”

  “What is it, Dan?”

  “Well, is the duel between you and Dr. Grimes still on?”

  Professor Bullfinch glanced at him in surprise. “The duel? Why, I’d forgotten all about it.”

  “I know we’re all on the same island, but—”

  “It isn’t a game any more, Danny,” the Professor said soberly, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  “I know that.”

  “It may be very serious indeed.” He gave a little snort. “I am just remembering all the things we thought were basic and necessary when we were planning the trip. Now we’re without anything.”

  “Then you mean we’d better forget about the duel?” Danny asked, a little sadly.

  Professor Bullfinch said, “Hmm. I didn’t say that. It might make our wits sharper, you know. Give us something to aim for, each day. Keep us on our toes, as you might say. I think perhaps—well, I think perhaps we ought to do it, provided Dr. Grimes is willing, of course.”

  Danny brightened. “Swell! That’s great. Now let’s make a shelter that’ll show how good you are.”

  The Professor surveyed the ledge. It was protected on one side by a ridge, or hump, of boulders, and at its back rose the tree-covered hill.

  “I thought,” he said, “of a modest little place. Four bedrooms, perhaps, and a sort of common room which could be made into a laboratory—”

  Danny raised his eyebrows. “That would take a lot of lumber. And I’m not sure we could get it done by tonight…”

  “Er—no, perhaps not. A single room, then, with four bunk-beds.”

  “We can’t make beds, Professor. We’d need a saw and a plane, and bedsprings, and mattresses. And even putting up four walls and a roof would be a lot of work.”

  The Professor scratched his nose thoughtfully. “I may be a bit too ambitious,” he admitted, with a sigh. “I am thinking too far ahead. I suppose a simple lean-to would be best.”

  “There are some thin, tall young trees growing up on the hill,” Danny said. “But even that will be hard to do without an ax.”

  Professor Bullfinch sat down on a rock, and absently put his empty pipe between his teeth. “Wish I’d thought to fill my pockets with tobacco,” he said. “Look here, Dan. Do you remember our talk about tools before we started this trip?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “It strikes me that we’re back at the beginnings of mankind. Robinson Crusoe had the tools he’d saved from the wreck, but we have almost nothing. A couple of pocketknives, some rope, and some fishhooks. We’re almost where Stone Age men started. And we have the same equipment they had.”

  “What equipment did Stone Age men have?”

  “Their hands, my boy. And stone and wood. You see, most animals can live in only one kind of environment. Monkeys live in trees and are good climbers; moles live in the ground and have built-in shovels for digging. But men can live anywhere at all, because they have hands and memories and imag
inations. So they can invent tools to help them adapt to any sort of surroundings. We can survive here by inventing tools.”

  Danny nodded slowly. “Invent a housebuilding tool?”

  “Of course. An ax is a sort of house-building tool.”

  “But we haven’t any steel, or any way to forge it.”

  “I know, Danny. But I said before that we are back in the Stone Age. Now these islands are volcanic, so perhaps we can find some obsidian.”

  “Obsidian? Oh, yes, the Indians made arrowheads out of it. It’s volcanic glass, isn’t it?”

  “Exactly. It’s very hard, and forms a sharp edge when broken. Perhaps we can make a stone ax.”

  “Have you ever made one?” Danny asked.

  “Er—no. But I know the theory. Let’s try it.”

  They searched about among the spiky plants until at last Danny found a chunk of dark-brown, glassy-looking stone as large as a football. A piece was broken off one end, and the inside was almost as shiny as a mirror.

  Without thinking, Danny dashed it against a large black rock that rose out of the earth. The obsidian flew apart with a crack and splinters of it sailed past the Professor’s legs.

  “Oh, gosh! I’m sorry,” Danny gulped. “I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I’m afraid not,” the Professor said, looking ruefully at the many small bits of stone. “Remember, Dan, a scientist must not jump headlong into something. Luckily, none of them hit me.”

  He bent over. “Ah, you were doubly lucky. Here’s one piece that might do, with a little shaping.”

  He had found a lump somewhat larger than his hand, thick at one end with a sharp, brittle razor edge at the other. He got a piece of lava and slowly chipped away bits of obsidian until he had made a rough, wedge-shaped head. Meantime, Danny went a little way into the forest and broke off a tough branch about three feet long. With his pocketknife he trimmed off the twigs and split one end of it, carving away some of the wood on the inside of the cleft so that the ax-head could be wedged into it without splitting the wood all the way down.