There must be nearly a hundred of
them and I notice a little taro root here and there. As those
cocoanuts are full of milk, that insures us life for a week or
two if we go on a short ration. By bathin' several times a day we
can keep down our thirst some and perhaps it'll rain."
"What if it does?" snapped Captain Scraggs bitterly. "We ain't
got nothin' but our hats to catch it in."
"Well, then, Scraggsy, old stick-in-the-mud," replied the
commodore quizzically, "it's a cinch you'll go thirsty. Your hat
looks like a cullender."
Captain Scraggs choked with rage, and Mr. Gibney, springing at
the nearest palm, shinned to the top of it in the most approved
sailor fashion. A moment later, instead of cocoanuts, rich,
unctuous curses began to descend on McGuffey and Scraggs.
"Gib, my _dear_ boy," inquired Scraggs, "whatever _is_ the
matter of you?"
"That hound Tabu-Tabu's been strippin' our cocoanut grove,"
roared the commodore. "He must have spent half the night up in
these trees."
"Thank the Lord they didn't take 'em all," said McGuffey piously.
"Chuck me down a nut, Gib," said Captain Scraggs. "I'm famished."
In conformity with the commodore's plans, the castaways made camp
in the grove.
Pages:
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335