Island of the Lost by Joan Druett Read Free Book Online

tentwas taken down and reerected there, and a fire was kindled at its entrance in an effort to keep away the persistent biting flies that had followed them to this new place. After piling the planks and leafy branches on the ground inside, Musgrave and the three sailors lay down and instantly fell into a heavy sleep.
    Raynal, who had been relatively idle all the long, miserable day, was not nearly so fortunate. Instead, he lay in deep discomfort, listening to a thousand strange noises. The rush and suck of the surf was identifiable enough, along with the quick ripple of the brook, the rustle of wind in the leaves, and the patter of the rain, but there were also weird cries, squeals, roars, and hoarse coughs, accompanied by crashing sounds in the trees. Then, just as he realized that the tent was surrounded by a commotion of sea lions, all hell broke loose—“an extraordinary turmoil” of bellowing, smashing branches, and great thuds that shook the earth.
    Musgrave and the three sailors sprang dazedly to their feet. Arming themselves with a pickax and cudgels of firewood, they dashed out of the tent. Then, just as precipitously, they stopped short, because just yards away two sea lion bulls were ferociously battling.
    Both were formidable beasts, about eight feet long and more than six feet broad at the shoulders, their massive bodies covered with short dark hair. Their jaws gaped to reveal huge tusks, and their great moustaches and shaggy iron-gray manes bristled with rage. The sight of the men didn’t distract them in the slightest. “Every moment they flung themselves upon one another, and bit and gnawed, tearing away great shreds of flesh, or inflicting gashes where the blood flowed in abundant streams,” Raynal wrote with awe. Finally George and Harry,afraid that the beasts would blunder over the tent and demolish it, threw flaming torches at them, and the two bulls roared off, to recommence their battle a few hundred yards away.
    T HE SECOND DAY after the wreck, Tuesday, January 5, 1864, was a memorable one. Not only was it fine but the sailors held the first of the many hunting parties to come. While Raynal was again left at the camp to make sure the fire did not burn out, Musgrave and the others took up six-foot cudgels and set off into the forest.
    Raynal watched them disappear; after about a half hour he heard shouts and exclamations, and realized that the chase had been successful. Later still, the men reappeared, each loaded down with a quarter of a sea lion carcass, the animal being far too big for one man to carry alone. They were scratched, insect-bitten, weary, and bloodstained, but no one had been hurt, and they had enough meat to get them through the next few days. Considering that none of them had been sealing before, and they had only followed the instructions that some old sealer had given them in Sydney—that the efficient way to kill a seal was to club it over the root of the nose, between the eyes, where the bones of the skull were thinnest—they had done very well. It was a triumph.
    Revitalized, Captain Musgrave, George, and Alick returned to the wreck to retrieve the three chests and the big iron pot, along with the rest of the provisions, including the potatoes and pumpkins—considered particularly important, because these might provide the seed for a vegetable garden. At the same time, Raynal and Harry, the Azorean cook, took advantage of the dry weather to improve the damp, uncomfortable accommodations.After taking everything out, they unpitched the tent and lit a big fire where it had stood, to dry and harden the earth, and also scorch and sanitize it, in yet another attempt to rid themselves of the scourge of insects.
    There were two kinds of these terrible flying creatures, each carrying its own special torment. The sand flies,
Austrosimulium vexans
, were horrid enough, clinging to every inch of exposed skin and biting viciously, but more revolting were the