Rounding the Cape, they beached the longboat, unloaded the tools, and carried them to the base of the palm. The provisions were stacked farther back under a favouring clump of trees, and water was located. Then, in spite of Sally's impatient protests, at Captain Brent's orders they drove stakes where the verdure first fringed the coral-tinged sands with emerald, and in a jiffy poles and guy-ropes were set, the canvas stretched, and a shelter for Sally prepared against the swift-climbing sun.
But she would have none of this now, and made straight for the sentinel palm.
"What's your reading of the chart, Ben?" asked the skipper, but not as if that made any difference. One location was as good as another. Never a doubloon would they find anyway. Still, in any event, he would find, in fact he was already finding, the gold he was searching for.
With his forefinger Ben hastily sketched in the sand his recollection of the odd markings on the stone in the cavern.
"It was like this," he said, "or at least something like it"
"The tongue of land is surely the cape, and that forking mark, like a spur or a chicken track, represents the palm, we decided. It's as good a guess as any."
"A pretty safe bet that, I should say," commented the skipper over his shoulder. "My boy, you could read the devil's own chart of the shoals and reefs of Hades."
"It is a sort of a devil's chart, isn't it? but it was Sally's idea. I can't figure out the rest. Say Sally, was that letter after the 5 an M or an N?"
