62 I N A G U A 



to pump water every twenty or thirty minutes to keep afloat 

 we knew it was a hopeless situation. We were stuck on the 

 island and there were no two ways about it. We began to 

 examine the coast more carefully. 



Mile upon mile it stretched away, a long low line of green 

 that faded into infinity. Some distance in the interior a few 

 low hills rose slightly and then sloped away again to the gen- 

 eral level. Once in a great while we passed a series of palms 

 shooting up from the shore like vegetable rockets frozen in 

 mid-air. Back of these was an impenetrable jungle that lay 

 somnolent in the sun. But it was a pleasing scene. Against the 

 brown rock along the shore the incoming combers broke in 

 great welters of foam, mounted high in the air and slid down 

 again in pure white froth. We looked in vain for houses. David 

 Daxon informed us that there were none between his "farm" 

 and the "city." The "city" we deduced was Mathewtown. 



At noon Daxon announced that he was going to roast some 

 corn. From some debris on the deck he hauled out some sticks 

 of wood and a box full of sand. In this he kindled a fire and 

 shortly had such a hearty blaze going that it nearly drove us 

 from the deck. Coughing and weeping from the smoke we 

 watched him hold the com in the fire until it was sHghtly 

 charred. He then wolfed it down, smacking his lips in enjoy- 

 ment. We tried some, but our palates, spoiled from years of 

 civilized living, rebelled. It was about as dry and as tasteful 

 as sawdust and about as easy to swallow. Coleman crawled 

 down in the hold and fished up a tin from which the label had 

 been washed but which proved to be Bartlett pears and more 

 to our taste. 



Daxon estimated that we would reach Mathewtown in about 

 eight hours but at dusk all we could see was the long line of 

 coast stretching away mile after mile. Just as the sun was setting 

 a great bank of inky clouds began to form on the horizon, 



