That night the shipwrecked little band slept out in the open with nothing but the stars over their heads. In fact they had no other shelter, but the night was mild and clear and no one suffered any discomfort.

Thus far the boys had had no chance to explore their new home, but the first thing the next morning they determined to do so. A plunge in the waters of the little bay put every one in good humor. No one went very far out, however, for in spite of the fact that they knew there was slight chance of any shark venturing anywhere so near the shore, the knowledge that the giants were lurking not far away cured every desire to swim out any distance.

Sam decided he would not join the exploring party. He had an idea that he would be very much better off, dozing in the sun at the foot of some palm tree. The four boys separated, Fred and Grant going together, and John and George pairing off.

“You two go one way,” directed Grant, “and we’ll go the other. If we follow the shore we’ll meet around on the other side of the island somewhere.”

“All right,” agreed John. “We’ll see you later.”

“After we see what the shore of the island is like, I say we explore the interior,” said George, as he and John walked off down the beach.

“That’s what I say,” exclaimed John. “That part looks more interesting.”

“It does to me, too. There are lots of birds here.”

“Do you know the names of them?”

“No, I don’t. All I know is that they are certainly beautiful. Look at that one there,” exclaimed George suddenly, as there was a flash of scarlet showing for an instant among the trees to their left.

“I wonder if there are any parrots here.”

“Wouldn’t you like to have one?”

“I certainly would. I’d like to take it home with me.”

“If we ever get there.”

“Of course we’ll get there,” said John confidently. “Don’t worry about that for a second. It’s only a question of how soon it will be.”

“Don’t be so sure about that, String. We don’t know where we are and it certainly seems queer that we haven’t seen a single boat. That’s what worries me. If many boats went by this way, I wouldn’t worry, but if no boats come along, how are we to be picked up?”

“But some will come.”

“They haven’t yet.”

“It seems to me we ought to have a lookout,” said John. “A boat might go right by and we’d never see it at all.”

“I know it,” said George. “I think we ought to take turns up on top of the hill where the flag is.”

“I’m willing. We’ll talk about it to Grant and Fred, when we meet them.”

“Look at that rock,” exclaimed George suddenly.

“What’s the matter with it?”

“Look at its shape.”

“It is queer,” admitted John. “It looks like a fish.”

“Doesn’t it? Maybe it’s a petrified shark.”

“I guess not that,” laughed John. “Still it is shaped more like a shark than anything else, isn’t it? Isn’t it queer?”

The odd shaped rock made a great impression on the two boys, and it was a queer freak of nature. Black in color and about thirty feet long the great bowlder stood out as a remarkable evidence of nature’s handiwork. It lay in a small opening in the midst of a grove of palm trees. The two boys drew near to investigate more closely and were amazed at the smoothness of its surface and the way it glistened in the sunlight.

“This is certainly strange,” exclaimed George. “It looks as if it might have been under water for hundreds of years and was worn smooth this way by the waves.”

“It’s so different from the other rocks, too,” said John. “I wonder what made it black this way.”

“Do you notice,” remarked George, “that it doesn’t look so much like a shark when you are close to it? When we first saw it, it certainly did though.”

“Didn’t it? Let’s go back to that spot again.”

They retraced their steps and once more viewed the odd shaped rock from the place where they had first caught sight of it. More than ever were they impressed by its weird resemblance to a giant shark.

“We’ll certainly have to tell Grant and Fred about this,” said John. “We’ll bring them down here to look at it too.”

The two friends resumed their walk along the shore and before many moments had passed they caught sight of Fred and Grant.

“What do you think they’re looking at?” exclaimed George.

“I don’t know, Pop,” returned John. “They certainly seem interested in something though, don’t they?”

Fred and Grant were lying face downward on a rock which overhung the water. Their gaze and attention seemed riveted on what they saw below them, so that they did not even hear their friends approach.

“What are you two looking at?” demanded George curiously.

Grant looked up at the sound of his comrade’s voice but he did not answer. He merely beckoned with one finger and then pointed to the water below. John and George were not long in taking their places alongside the other two and soon they were just as engrossed in what they saw as were their companions.

The water was deep right up to the shore. It was also as clear as crystal so that everything in it could be seen with remarkable distinctness. Sand was mixed with coral on the bottom and the water was populated with fish, and such strange fish too. All sizes, shapes and colors they were; some almost flat with strange little pig-like mouths; others chunky and with flat backs as though some one had hammered them out. All of them, however, were wonderfully provided with marvelous coloring, some of them with shades that changed from time to time. A brilliant green ray, shaped like an eel, lay coiled about a piece of coral; he opened his mouth with its wicked looking teeth and sucked in the water which he could be seen to expel a moment later from his gills.

For a long time the four boys lay and watched these things in silence. It was like a fairy story to see all these strange inhabitants of the tropic seas.

“Whew,” sighed Fred at length, “that’s a wonderful sight.”

“I should say so,” exclaimed John heartily. “This is a wonderful island too. I am almost glad we were stranded here.”

“I’d be too,” said George, “if I was only certain we were going to get off all right.”

“Guess what Fred and I found this morning,” said Grant.

“It wasn’t any more wonderful than what Pop and I saw,” retorted John.

“What did you see?” demanded Grant.

“A rock that’s shaped just like a shark.”

“Huh,” snorted Fred. “That’s not half as good as what we found.”

“Tell us what it was then,” said George.

“Tracks,” said Grant.

“Tracks. What kind of tracks?”

“Can’t you guess?”

“Not railroad?” suggested George and he put up his arm as though he expected to have to ward off a blow.

“Don’t be silly, Pop,” exclaimed Grant. “Of course they weren’t.”

“Man tracks?” queried John.

“No,” said Fred. “They were goat tracks.”

“Is that right?” exclaimed George. “Did you see any goats?”

“No, but we saw a good many tracks.”

“I told you this was a wonderful island,” said John heartily. “You see we’ve even got a herd of goats here.”

“I don’t know what good they’ll do us though,” said Fred.

“Why not?” demanded John. “If we can catch one we can have it to eat.”

“That’s all right,” said Fred, “but how are you going to cook it without fire?”

“We’ll build one of course.”

“Without matches?”

“Pop has some matches. Haven’t you, Pop?” inquired John.

“Why, certainly,” said George with a great air of importance. “I have everything of that kind. Wasn’t I the fellow who had the compass too? I keep a diary and I have a compass and I have some matches in a waterproof box. Who says that I’m not a good man to have on any party?”

“Oh, you’re a fine fellow all right,” laughed Grant. “Personally I don’t know what good your compass will do us though. Your matches are all right and I advise you to be very careful with them.”

“Leave that to me,” said George. “I’ll be careful all right.”

“Who’s going to catch these goats?” demanded Fred.

“We haven’t gotten as far as that yet,” said Grant laughingly. “I guess we’ll have to put salt on their tails.”

“Not at all,” exclaimed John seriously. “We’ll make spears and get them that way. To-morrow we’ll have a goat hunt.”

“Maybe we will,” said George skeptically. “Just at present though, I say we do a little more exploring. We haven’t seen much of the interior of the island yet.”

“Come along then,” cried Grant. “We’ll all go.”

With Grant in the lead, they started. Every moment added to the new delights the little island afforded. The tropical foliage was brilliant and the bird-life seemed endless in its variety. The sides of the small hill which the exploring party was ascending, however, were rocky and when they were about halfway up, Grant suddenly stopped short in surprise.

“Look there,” he exclaimed. “There’s a cave.”

A dark opening in the rocks showed just ahead and there was a mad race to see which boy should arrive at the spot first. It was a steep ascent, but just in front of the cave was a flat ledge of rocks some ten or fifteen feet wide which made a sort of front yard.

Grant was the first to reach the entrance and even before he looked into the cave he stopped and picked up two objects from the ground at his feet.

“What have you got?” demanded John.

Grant held the two articles in question up to view. “An old flint-lock pistol and a powder-horn,” he said.