Danny Dunn on a Desert Island (8 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Vanishing of Joe

They all stood motionless, straining their eyes to watch the smoke. They hardly dared breathe.

After fifteen minutes Danny said, “I think it's getting closer.”

“Ssh!” hissed Dr. Grimes, as if silence would help him see better.

But another quarter hour of waiting left no doubt: the ship was actually coming nearer. She was still many miles away, but the column of smoke was larger and beneath it they could now make out a tiny dark speck that must be the superstructure of the ship herself.

Dr. Grimes grabbed a blazing stick from the fire. “Now or never!” he cried. He plunged up the hill, to the signal fire he had prepared on the ledge against just such a moment as this. He thrust the torch into it. The dry, thorny branches began crackling, and within minutes a tall column of smoke rose high in the air. They watched the ship.

“Look!” Danny shouted, all at once. Unmistakably, a spark of red shot up from the ship.

“A rocket,” said the Professor. “They've seen our signal!”

“Yippee!” Joe yelled, unable to contain himself any longer. “We're saved!”

“I dislike jumping to conclusions,” said Professor Bullfinch, “but in this case the hypothesis may be correct.
Hooray
!”

And with that, he seized Dr. Grimes's hands and began a wild dance of triumph. Dr. Grimes's sour face was split with a wide grin that made him look like a completely different man. Danny and Joe capered madly around the two scientists.

After a few moments they were able to quiet down, and the Professor said, “Let us collect our things. We'll want to save our stone tools and our musical instruments as souvenirs. And let's all make ourselves presentable. It is,” he added, “a point of honor with me that when they pick us up we shouldn't look like beachcombers. After all, we've managed very well so far.”

Dr. Grimes nodded. He looked at Joe and said, “I think it might be a good idea, Bullfinch, if the boys took a bath. We haven't yet had a chance to try out the soap.”

“By George, that's right! And after you and I went to so much trouble to make it!”

“But, Professor!” Danny protested. “I'm clean.”

“I'd hardly go so far as to say ‘clean.' You are less dirty than Joe, who—I'm sorry to say—looks and smells more like a swamp cabbage than a boy.”

“But we can get washed on the ship,” said Joe.

“Have you no pride at all?” Dr. Grimes said severely.

“No,” Joe replied.

“Well, we have enough for both of you. We'll make a fire and you can start some stones heating. Bullfinch, you get some soap.”

The Professor took one of the K-ration containers—which they found constantly useful—and went down to the beach. In the turtle shell, which they had taken off the fire, there was a small quantity of a rather gluey substance. It had a peculiar greenish color and smelled of turtle, but it was undeniably soap of a sort.

Professor Bullfinch scooped some of it into the container and handed it to Danny.

In the excitement of their anticipated rescue, they had forgotten completely about the natives. They ran up to the hole they had dug for a bathtub, and moved the trough at the stream so that the hole could fill with fresh water. They soon had stones heating in a large fire, while down below, at the camp, the two men built up their fire to act as a signal to the ship.

“Gee, won't it be swell to be home again?” Joe said.

“You bet. And won't the other kids be jealous?”

“I don't care. I'm just going to eat. I'll start with roast beef and mashed potatoes, and then fried chicken, and ice cream…” Joe sighed.

“There's only one drawback to this rescue business,” he added.

“What's that?”

“Using this soap. Do we have to?”

“Tell you what,” said Danny. “I'll let you have the honor of being the first to try it.”

“Are you kidding?” Joe got to his feet. “That stuff will probably burn our skin off.”

“Well, that's one way of getting clean. Come on, Joe. Don't be a coward.”

“But I
am
a coward.”

Danny snatched up the container. “Just a little dab of it,” he cooed. “If it doesn't eat through your hands, we'll know it's all right.”

“Not me.” Joe dodged away.

Laughing, Danny went for him. Joe ducked, and stuck out a foot. Danny went sprawling. In a flash Joe recovered, laughing in his turn, and darted up the hill. He disappeared between the trees.

Danny picked himself up and recovered the container. He ran after his friend, yelling, “Joe! It won't hurt. Come and take your bath!”

He was a little slowed by his own laughter. He entered the forest, and suddenly he stopped. Something was wrong, and for a moment he couldn't put his finger on what it was. Then it came to him: the quiet. It was
too
quiet. The usual friendly birds were silent, nor were there any other noises—no frogs, no rustlings in the underbrush.

“Joe,” he called. “Come on out, Joe. I promise I won't…”

His voice trailed away before that all-enveloping silence.

He walked a few paces. Then he stood still again, every nerve on the stretch, his spine tingling.

In the soft earth there were fresh footprints—the prints of many large, naked feet.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“After Them!”

For an instant, Danny was stunned. Then he pulled himself together and began to search about for further evidences of what had happened.

Mixed with the prints of bare feet were the marks of Joe's sneakers. All the footprints led away toward the banana grove. Danny followed them for a few yards, and at the base of a tree he found a crumpled, dirty piece of cloth: a handkerchief which Joe had obviously dropped to show which way he was being taken.

Danny fought down an impulse to go on after his friend. “This time,” he said to himself, “I won't be headstrong.”

He turned and ran as fast as he could, back toward the camp.

The Professor and Dr. Grimes were folding up the blanket between them, as he came pelting down the hill.

“Hold still, Bullfinch,” Dr. Grimes was saying. He lifted his head, and called to Danny, “What's the matter? Water too hot?”

Danny gulped for air. “The natives!” he cried. “They've got Joe!”

“What!”

They dropped the blanket. Dr. Grimes grabbed Danny by one arm, and Professor Bullfinch took him by the other.

“Look out,” he said. “You'll pull me in half. Joe ran up into the jungle. We were playing. When I went after him he was gone, and I found footprints all over the place. Big ones, of bare feet. They took him toward the banana grove.”

“Great heavens!” exclaimed the Professor. “It's my fault. I should never have let you two go up to the bathtub alone.”

“It's much more my fault,” Dr. Grimes said somberly. “I was the one who proposed it. I should have thought—”

“No point in our competing for guilt,” Professor Bullfinch cut in. “We must go after him.”

“But the ship—?”

They all turned to look at the sea. By now the distant ship was visible, although still too far away for details to be seen.

“They may not be here for another hour,” said the Professor. “We can't wait. Who knows what may be happening to Joe? I'd never forgive myself if we didn't at least try to help him.”

“Nor I. You're right,” said Dr. Grimes. “I have an idea. We can leave a large note here in camp, and blaze our trail as we go so that we can be followed.”

“Splendid!” Professor Bullfinch seized the fruit carrier and, extracting the carton from it, ripped a large piece of cardboard free. On it, in bold letters, Dr. Grimes wrote: ONE OF OUR PARTY SEIZED BY NATIVES. FOLLOW BLAZES. BRING WEAPONS.

“That ought to do it,” he said.

Meantime, Professor Bullfinch had taken up the obsidian ax, and he hefted it thoughtfully. “I should hate to have to turn this against a person,” he said. “Still, a scientist should not shrink from new experiences. We can't let anything happen to Joe.”

Dr. Grimes got himself a stone-tipped club, and Danny took his spear and the raft knife. Then, somewhat grimly, the three set off into the jungle.

From the banana grove the footprints led upward, toward the cone-shaped peak in the island's center. This territory was all strange to them. Their first ten days had been spent in such intense activity, working on their various projects and gathering enough food to stay alive, that they had no time for exploration. The jungle grew thicker and they could see clearly the broken twigs and trampled underbrush where the natives had passed with their prisoner.

The ground became steeper and the going more difficult. Outcroppings of rock appeared, black and sharply ribbed, and Danny had to scout on either side to find the traces of the men they were following. Dr. Grimes cut one more blaze in a stunted tree, and then they climbed over a ledge of lava and found themselves looking down the other side of the mountain.

They wiped their streaming faces and stared out over the green sea of treetops. Far below, near the shore, they could see the gleam of a beach and some grayish, rounded humps that must be the roofs of huts.

“Look!” said Danny. “There's a trail here.”

They saw a pile of stones and beyond it another. They went down a little way and saw that there was a regular pathway, very narrow but clearly marked, running down into the forest.

Danny went first, without hesitation, and the two men followed him more slowly. They began to speak in whispers, and to tread more softly, and unconsciously they all gripped their rude weapons more tightly.

The trail wound down the mountainside and soon they passed groves of banana, papaya, guava, and other fruit trees. A little farther on, in a grassy space, some goats bounded away. Then, abruptly, they emerged on the edge of a high bank which led down to a clearing. They stopped short. They were looking directly into the native village.

Rough, simple huts, thatched with banana fronds, were arranged in a large circle around an open space. Other, smaller huts could be seen among the trees beyond. Here and there were small plantings, and a few pigs rooted about the outskirts of the village. But all their attention was fixed on what was happening in the clearing.

A crowd of dark-skinned people were gathered about Joe, who was being held by two men. A short fat man was talking excitedly to the boy, who stood as if dazed, for he made no attempt to struggle. And behind him was a large iron pot resting on flat stones over a pit. In the pit a fire crackled and blazed.

As the three watched, the fat man placed a garland of green leaves on the boy's head.

“Parsley!” gasped Dr. Grimes.

They had sunk down in the underbrush to avoid being seen, but now Danny started to his feet.

“Get down!” whispered Professor Bullfinch, clutching at Danny's arm.

“But we've got to save him!” Danny replied, trying to pull his arm free.

“There's nothing we can do,” Dr. Grimes said, keeping his voice low. “If we rush down there against that mob, they'll pick our bones clean in no time. Get down!”

Danny stared at Dr. Grimes. Then suddenly his eyes went wide.

“Pick our bones—!” he began. “Of course!”

Without another word, he broke away and went charging down the bank into the clearing.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Moment of Battle

“He's hysterical,” said Dr. Grimes.

Professor Bullfinch had risen to his feet and was preparing to rush after the boy, ax in hand.

Dr. Grimes grabbed him by the shirt and held him back. “Don't be a fool, Bullfinch,” he whispered.

“Let go!” The Professor's face was pale but determined, and behind his glasses his eyes gleamed in a warlike way.

“You and I, against fifty savages? Don't be silly. We must make a plan.”

Dr. Grimes dragged the Professor back up the trail, out of earshot of the village.

“Well? What sort of plan?” asked the Professor.

“Perhaps we could create a diversion. One of us could throw stones at them, and when they come charging up the bank the other could run around into the clearing and rescue the boys.”

“What if they catch the one who throws the stones? Then only one would be left to rescue three.”

“Then suppose we set fire to some of those thatched roofs? In the confusion—”

“In the confusion the boys may be roasted instead of boiled.”

“Bullfinch, you're a pest,” Dr. Grimes said in exasperation. “If I were alone, I'd have no difficulty deciding on an idea.”

“But those ideas are impractical.”

“Have you a better one?”

“Yes. It has just occurred to me—”

Before Professor Bullfinch could continue there was a noise behind them, higher up the trail. Branches snapped and stones came rattling down.

“More natives! We're surrounded!” said Dr. Grimes. He raised his club.

“Wait. I don't think so,” Professor Bullfinch said, calmly.

At the same instant, a group of men came into sight. They were seamen, and two or three were holding rifles. Their leader, a tall, portly man, whose white hair stuck out under the peak of his cap, was carrying a pistol.

“The men from the ship!” Grimes said.

“Exactly. As I was about to say, it occurred to me that they'd be along soon,” said Professor Bullfinch. He stepped forward and held out his hand. “How do you do?” he said. “I'm Professor Euclid Bullfinch and this is Dr. A. J. Grimes.”

“Howdy,” said the tall man, shaking hands. “I'm Larkin, first mate of the
Inca Queen
. We know all about you. There was a bulletin from Lima asking everybody to be on the watch for you. Then we picked up your signal, but it failed, and we've been searching the sector for an island. There isn't one marked on the charts in this region.”

“Let's not stand about gossiping!” Dr. Grimes put in sharply. “The boys—”

“Oh, yeah. There's supposed to be two kids with you. I got your note. The natives caught 'em eh?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we'll get 'em back,” the mate said confidently. “We'll blow those savages to bits. Which way?”

“Follow me,” said the Professor, and turned down the trail. The others pressed close behind, holding their rifles ready.

They came to the top of the bank and paused. In the clearing they saw a dreadful sight. The two husky guards were holding Joe face down over the pot. Danny stood nearby with three or four of the natives about him.

“Quick!” Dr. Grimes exclaimed. “There's no time to lose!”

“Get 'em!” shouted Larkin.

He burst through the thicket and started down the bank, holding his pistol high. The rest streamed after him.

The natives turned openmouthed at the intrusion. Larkin leveled his weapon.

“Stand back!” he ordered in a harsh voice. “Don't move or we'll open fire!”

At that Danny leaped forward, holding up both his hands.

“Stop!” he cried. “You don't understand!”