At sunrise on the following morning Peter scaled the highest point of the island, hoping that in the clear air his range of vision would be increased sufficiently to make out land.

He was disappointed. Nothing of the nature of land was in view. The horizon, clear and well defined, surrounded him in an unbroken circle.

He was considerably troubled in his mind over the situation. Desert islands were all very well in their way, provided there was a chance of getting away from them. Evidently this island was well out of the regular steamer track, while sailing vessels, running between The Cape and India and the Federated Malay States, would pass well to the eastward in order to take full advantage of the monsoons.

The boat was practically useless as a means of leaving the island. Had there been a supply of nails in the locker, Peter would not have hesitated to fasten a sheet of painted canvas over the holes in the garboards, and then risked a dash for Madagascar. But without suitable material that was out of the question.

Naturally of an inventive turn of mind, Peter thought out half a dozen plans to make the boat seaworthy; but, as fast as he worked out a solution of the difficulty, objections apparently insurmountable caused him to reject the scheme and start afresh on another tack.

His previous error in navigation rather damped his enthusiasm, but with Preston on the road to recovery he was no longer dependent on himself. The Acting Chief had had years of experience of the Indian Ocean, and, knowing the set of the chief currents and the direction of the prevailing winds, would be of material assistance in navigating the boat—provided she could be made seaworthy.

Still pondering, Mostyn descended from the bluff and walked towards the camp. A more urgent problem demanded his attention: that of catering for the needs of his companions and himself.

The biscuits would not last out much longer, coconuts were unsatisfying fare, and apt to have injurious effect if used as a staple form of food. Whether the island possessed other resources, either animal or vegetable, had yet to be seen. Preliminary investigations had drawn blank in that direction.

Returning to camp, Mostyn found the others busily engaged in getting breakfast. Mahmed had found some oysters, many of them a foot in diameter, while the lascars had surprised and killed a small turtle.

It was rather a curious fact that Mrs. Shallop, childishly ignorant on most matters, was an authority on cooking. She just "took on" the turtle as a matter of course, and by the time Peter returned the choicest parts of the animal were stewing over a wood fire. In the absence of a suitable pot, for the baler was far too small, the self-constituted cook had employed the shell of the turtle as a receptacle for the stew. The oysters were eaten raw, flavoured with the vinegary milk of a young coco-nut.

But the success of the meal was the result of Mahmed\'s investigations. He had wandered towards the main coco-nut grove on the southern point of the island and had discovered a number of "jack-fruits", a species of bread-fruit. These had been sliced and roasted, forming a good substitute for bread. The lascars, however, disdained the fruit, and were content with the seeds, which they bruised and cooked in coconut shells.

For the moment the grim spectre of starvation had been driven away.

"I\'ve been thinking, Peter," remarked Olive during the rest-interval. "Couldn\'t we make a canvas boat? We have plenty of sail-cloth, and we could use timbers and planking out of the damaged boat."

"Might," admitted Mostyn. "It would take some doing, and after all it would be a frail craft to carry seven people. We might try it."

He thought over the matter, and the more he did so the greater became the difficulties. Even in calm water a canvas boat, unless properly constructed of suitable materials, is a sorry craft. In the high-crested waves of the Indian Ocean she would not stand a dog\'s chance.

Yet Olive\'s suggestion was not without good result. Based upon the idea, Peter\'s thoughts returned to the damaged boat. Could that not be patched with canvas and strengthened by woodwork so that it would be once more seaworthy?

"By Jove, Olive!" he exclaimed. "I believe you\'ve put me on the right tack. Come on down to the boat. We\'ll take the lascars with us and see what\'s to be done. The sooner we get away from this place the better."

Olive did not agree with the latter remark, although she made no audible comment. She was rather enjoying the novelty of the situation. Peter, on the other hand, had got over the glamour of desert islands. An exciting time upon a coral island in the North Pacific had cured him of that. It wasn\'t to be regretted from a retrospective point of view, but he did not hanker after a repetition.

By the aid of a tackle composed of the halliards and main-sheet blocks the boat was canted over and finally lowered keel uppermost. T............