John Goldfrap - The Boy Aviators on Secret Service; Or, Working with Wireless

“Well, I don’t want to be around when any such creatures as that are about,” said Lathrop.

“I’m with you there,” cried Billy, “snake stories are all right in print but I don’t want to figure in any of them.”

“Come on, boys, – volunteers to get supper,” cried Frank, after the group had strolled back to the boat landing, – all hands taking turn at packing the water keg.

“Supper?” cried the others.

“Yes,” replied Frank, “we can row the keg off to the Carrier Dove , get some duffle ashore and camp here in the jungle for a night. There’s no use trying to navigate this coast in the dark. Who says – yes?”

Of course they all did, – hailing his suggestion with acclamation, – and, after Frank and Harry had rowed off to the sloop, Lathrop and Billy Barnes set about getting in a supply of firewood and laying a fire between two green logs set parallel, in a manner that did credit to Bill’s training as a woodsman in Nicaragua.

Frank and Harry were too tender-hearted to resist Ben Stubbs’ pleadings to be made one of the party – moreover he promised to cook them what he called a bush supper if allowed to come ashore, so that when the boys shoved off in the placid water on their return trip to the Island Ben made one of the Squeegee’s load.

As soon as they got ashore Ben approvingly commended Billy’s camp-fire arrangements, at which the reporter glowed with pleasure. Somehow in the wilderness a small tribute to a boy’s handiness will send him into the seventh heaven of gratified pride. Under Ben Stubbs’ orders the party had soon secured several bunches of oysters from the mangroves, – which were laden with the bivalves where they dipped into the water at low tide, – as well as half a dozen turtles, small fellows which Ben declared made as good eating as the terrapin of the northern restaurant and banquet. To crown the feast, Frank, who had been scouting about with one of the shot-guns, brought down a couple of small ducks.

The oysters Ben roasted in their shells, laying them when finished on plantain leaves on previously heated rocks. The turtles he prepared by scalding them and then, after cutting down the center of the lower shell, the meat was easily got at. Salted and peppered inside and out and the meat removed from the shell after a half-an-hour’s boiling with onions and the young campers had a meal fit for a president, who, as Billy observed, “is a heap more particular than a king.”

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