The seaplane chose that minute to leave the water by the. second island and to rise into the air, ready to fly off!
The children had no time to rush their boat into shore and hide. They were out on the sea, clearly to be seen!
“Crouch down flat in the boat, so that the pilot may perhaps think there’s nobody in it,” ordered Andy. They shipped the oars quickly and crouched down. The seaplane rose up high, and the children hardly dared to breathe. They did so hope it would fly off without noticing them.
But it suddenly altered its course and began to circle round, coming down lower. It flew down low enough to examine the boat, and then, rising high, flew over the third island, and then flew down to the submarine bay.
Andy sat up, his face rather pale under its brown.
“That’s done it,” he said. “They saw us! Now they’ll count their boats—find there’s one missing—and come to look for us!”
CHAPTER 13
Tom Disappears
THE children looked at one another in the greatest dismay. To think the seaplane should have flown over just at that very moment! It was too bad.
“Well, we can’t sit here looking at one another,” said Andy, in a brave voice. “We’ve got to do something quickly. But what? I can’t seem to think!”
Nobody could think what to do. Andy longed desperately for some grown-up who could take command and tell him what would be the best thing to do. But there was no grown-up. This was something he had to decide himself—and he must decide well, because the two girls were in his care.
“We had better row straight round to the store-cave and fill the boat with food whilst we can,” he said at last. “Then we’ll start out straightaway and hope that the seaplane won’t spot us out on the sea. It’s the only thing to do.”
It was a long row round to the cave, but they got there at last, quite tired out. There was nobody about. They beached the boat and jumped out. It was not long before they were in the Round Cave, carrying out stacks of tins and boxes to the boat.
“Golly! We’ve got enough food to last for weeks!” said Tom.
“We may need it!” said Andy. “Goodness knows how far it is back home. I’ve not much idea of the right direction either, but I shall do my best.”
Tom staggered out to the boat with heaps of things. Andy looked at the pile of food at the end of the boat and nodded bis head.
“That’s enough,” he said. “We don’t want to make the boat too heavy to row! Get in!”
They all got in. They rowed out beyond the reef of rocks where they had found a way in and then towards their own island. Andy wanted to get the rugs, for he was sure they would be bitterly cold at night.
“You girls jump out and go and fetch all the warm things you can find,” said Andy. “And bring a cup or two and a knife, I’ve got a tin-opener.”
The girls sped off to the shack in the hollow—and whilst they were gone the boys heard the sound they dreaded to hear—the noise of seaplane engines booming over the water!
“There it comes again!” said Andy angrily. “Always at the wrong moment. Lie down flat, Tom. I hope the girls will have the sense to do the same!”
The seaplane zoomed down low over the island, as if it were hunting for someone. Then it droned over the sea, and flew round in great circles. Andy lifted his head and watched it.
“You know what it’s doing?” he said. “It’s flying round hunting the sea for our boat—just as a hawk flies over fields hunting for mice! It’s a good thing we didn’t set out straightaway. I think now we’d better wait for the night to come—and then set out in the darkness. We should be seen as easily as anything if we try to go now.”
They waited till the drone of the plane’s engines was far away. It was hunting the waters everywhere for the stolen boat. Andy stood up and yelled to the girls, who were lying flat under a bush.
“It’s gone for the moment. Help us to take out these goods and hide them. If the boat is discovered here and taken away, and we are made prisoners on this island, we shall at least be sure of stores!”
“If we are able to start out tonight we can easily pat back the food,” said Tom. They all worked hard, and buried the tins and boxes under some loose sand at the top of the beach. They pulled the boat farther up the beach and then sat down to rest, hot and tired.
And then poor Tom gave a squeal of dismay. The others jumped and looked at him in fright. “Whatever’s the matter?” asked Andy.
“My camera!” said Tom, his face a picture of horror. “My camera—with all those pictures I took! I left it in the store-cave.”
“Left it in the store-cave!” said everyone. “Whatever for?”
“Well, I was afraid I’d bump it against the rocks, carrying it up and down those passages,” said Tom. “So I took it off for a minute, meaning to put it on when we went. And I forgot.”
“You fathead! “said Jill.
“Don’t call me that,” said poor Tom, looking almost ready to cry.
“Well, fathead is too good a name,” said Mary. “Thinhead would be better. You can’t possibly have goHmy brains if you do a thing like that, so you must be a thinhead with no brains at all.”
Tom went very red. He blinked his eyes and swallowed a lump that had-suddenly come into his throat. He knew how valuable the pictures were that he had taken. How could he have come to forget his camera like that?
“Cheer up, Tom,” said Andy. “I know what you feel like. I felt just like that when I found I’d forgotten to bring the anchor in the ship. It’s awful.”
Tom was grateful to Andy for not scolding him. But all the same he felt really dreadful. They had gone to such a lot of trouble to get those photographs—and now all because of his carelessness they had been left behind.
“I vote we have something to eat,” said Andy, thinking that would cheer Tom up. But it didn’t. For once in a way Tom had no appetite at all. He couldn’t eat a thing. He sat nearby looking gloomily at the others.
The seaplane did not come back. The children sat and waited for the evening to come, when they might start. Jill yawned. “I must do something for the next two or three hours,” she said, “or I shall fall asleep. I think I’ll take the kettle and keep filling it with water at the spring, and bring it back to the boat. There’s a big water-barrel there, and we could fill it with water.”
“Good idea,” said Andy. “You and Mary do that. I think I’ll just wander up to the bush where we put the sail and see if it’s still there. I don’t think I’ve time to rig up some kind of a mast in this little boat so the sail won’t be any good. But it might be useful to cover us with if it should happen to pour with rain.”
The girls went off. Andy nodded to Tom, who was still looking gloomy, and went across the island to the bush where he had put the sail.
Tom was left alone, “They don’t want me with them,” thought the boy, quite wrongly. “They think I’m awful. I think I’m awful too! Oh, dear—if only I could get my camera.”
He thought of the reef of rocks that led to the second island. It wasn’t a bit of use trying to climb over them because the tide was getting high now.
But then he thought of the boat! It really wasn’t a great distance to row to the cave, from the beach where he was. How pleased the others would be if he got back his camera!
The boy did not stop to think. He dragged the boat down the beach by himself, though he nearly pulled his arms out, doing it! He pushed it into the water and jumped in. He took the oars and began to row quickly round to the second island. He would land on the shore then, run quickly to the cave and get his camera.
“Then I’ll be back here with it almost before the others know I’m gone!” he thought.
Nobody would have known what Tom had done if Andy had not happened to look round as he went over the little island to find the old sail. To’his enormous astonishment he saw their boat being rowed away!