Danny Dunn on a Desert Island

by Jay Williams

“Now,” said the Professor, “let’s see if it works.”

  He forced the stone head into the cleft and tied it firmly in place, using some of the light, strong line from the raft’s emergency chest.

  He bowed to Danny. “Will you try first, or shall I?” he asked with a smile.

  “After you, Professor,” Danny answered.

  The Professor swung the ax, and brought it down at an angle in the trunk of a sapling. It bit deep.

  He let go the handle. “My goodness!” he exclaimed in astonishment. “It works!”

  “Didn’t you know it would?” Danny said.

  The Professor cleared his throat. “Theory and practice don’t always go hand in hand,” he said. “I wasn’t sure.”

  Their talk ended abruptly as two figures came into view between the trees. Danny shaded his eyes and stared.

  “It’s Dr. Grimes,” he said. “And he has some kind of strange animal with him—like a big, piebald monkey!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Home, Sweet Home

  It wasn’t strange that Danny didn’t recognize his friend. Joe’s face and arms were covered with a film of green-brown mud. He wore no shirt, and the white color of his chest was startling against the dark mud. He carried what looked like a dirty old burlap bag, but when he came closer they could see it was his shirt, full of large, melon-shaped fruits.

  “What on earth—” the Professor began.

  “We found a stream,” Joe interrupted. “And these fruits. There are lots more back up in the woods. Bananas, too, growing right on the trees.”

  “If you found a stream,” the Professor remarked, “why didn’t you wash yourself off?”

  Joe looked down at himself. “I tried,” he said ruefully. “The stuff’s sticky, like glue. It won’t come off.”

  “What happened?” asked Professor Bullfinch.

  “We climbed up the rocks until we entered the forest,” Dr. Grimes explained. “It’s hard going; most of the plants are mimosa, or cactus, or similar thorny shrubs and trees. But up above there’s a kind of rain forest. It’s much warmer there, and there’s grass and some flowers.”

  “And you ought to see the birds,” Joe put in. “All kinds, and they’re almost tame. They flew right down to us.”

  Dr. Grimes nodded. “I am certain there are no other people on this island. The birds have never seen men before. We found a little river and a number of groves of papaya and banana, as well as some other fruits I believe to be a species of mango. Joe climbed one of the papaya trees. They have a smooth trunk and no lower branches, and he lost his footing and fell. It’s quite swampy there, and he landed on his front in the mud.”

  “Then we followed the stream down,” Joe said. “It comes out on the other side of those rocks and falls to a shelf about twenty feet below, and then into the sea. You can’t see it from here because of that ridge of rock.”

  Dr. Grimes had brought back a bucket full of water. He hung it in the shade and looked about him. “This is a good spot for a camp,” he said. “But where’s the shelter you were going to build? I’m afraid, my dear Bullfinch, you were not as practical as we.”

  “On the contrary, we’ve already made the first tool,” said the Professor complacently, and pointed to the stone ax, still embedded in the tree trunk.

  All four now went to work in earnest on the shelter. Using the ax, the Professor cut two long, slender saplings, trimming away the branches to leave a fork at the top of each. With their pocketknives the boys sharpened the bottoms. Then Danny tried to push one of them into the ground.

  “You ought to have made a stone hammer,” Joe said, as Danny puffed over the work. “Let’s find a hunk of stone and make a pounding tool.”

  Professor Bullfinch, wiping his streaming forehead, was standing nearby. He smiled, and held up the ax. “What do you think this is?” he said.

  “Why, you said it was an ax.”

  The Professor turned it in his hand. “One edge is sharp, yes, but the back is blunt. Isn’t it a hammer as well?”

  Danny whistled. “Oh, what a dope I am!” he said.

  “Not at all. You simply judged by the look of a thing, and by what people say of it. As a scientist you should keep an open mind.”

  Using the back of the ax, they drove the uprights into the ground and laid another long pole across the forks. Then they cut a number of other branches and tied them along the top pole slantwise, with their ends resting on the ground.

  They stood back to examine their work with pride.

  “It’s not pretty,” Joe remarked, “but it’s home. I wonder for how long?”

  “Not long, let us hope,” said the Professor. “Our original plan was excellent, but I hardly expected to be marooned.”

  Dr. Grimes said, “I think we ought to take stock of our supplies and see what we have. We may have to stay here for several weeks.”

  They all went down to the beach, where they had left the raft and their supplies. They had saved pitifully little. There was a single blanket, and a cardboard box in which twenty K-ration cartons remained. There was the raft’s emergency chest, containing fishhooks, signal flares, a repair kit containing glue and patches, the folding bucket, a large first-aid kit, a flashlight, a compass, and fifty feet of light strong cord. There were two empty canteens, a coil of nylon rope, and a large knife with a cork handle.

  There was also a waterproof sack containing something that looked like a ukulele with the neck broken off. Dr. Grimes pounced on this with an exclamation of pleasure.

  “This may prove the best tool of all,” he said. “It’s the emergency radio transmitter. Now we’ll be able to signal our location.”

  “Excellent,” said Professor Bullfinch. “Now then, let’s all empty our pockets. Almost everything we own may turn out to be useful.”

  He himself was the first to do so. He had a handkerchief, many scraps of paper and old envelopes covered with scribbled notes and formulae, a small slide rule, a pocket watch—ruined by the salt water—some loose change, a few pencils, a fountain pen with no ink in it, a wallet, the stub of a ticket to a lecture, and some keys.

  “We could use these,” Danny said, picking up one of the keys, “for arrowheads, if we sharpened them.”

  Dr. Grimes was next. The contents of his pockets were much the same as those of the Professor, except for dozens of membership cards to various scientific organizations, and a small volume entitled The Home Gardener’s Handy Handbook.

  Joe’s pockets contained some Life Savers, a pocketknife, a single peanut, a couple of bottle caps, the top of a cereal box with a contest jingle on it which Joe had forgotten to mail before they left home (“Ooh, there goes my chance for a Geiger counter,” he grumbled when he found it), some string, a Second-Class Scout badge with the pin broken off, and several erasers.

  “Why so many erasers, Joe?” the Professor asked gently.

  Joe shrugged. “Because I’m a pessimist, I guess.”

  Danny’s pockets, however, made up for everything. He had some wire and some strong cord, a few nails, several foreign coins, an airmail stamp, a magnifying glass, a few watch gears, some nuts and bolts, two pieces of very dry chewing gum, and best of all, a small emergency kit in which were a needle and thread, some gauze and adhesive tape, and a dozen waterproof matches.

  “This is a regular treasure trove,” said the Professor cheerfully. “Every expedition should have a Danny with it.”

  They carried everything up what was rapidly becoming a cleared trail, to their camp on the ledge. They stored the food and emergency chest away in the rear of the lean-to. They spread out the blanket as a ground sheet. A little distance away they built a fireplace of stones. It began to look quite cozy and homelike when they had finished.

  “Why don’t you boys go fill your canteens so we’ll have extra water?” the Professor suggested. “Then we c
an have some lunch and set up the transmitter.”

  “What’s for lunch?” Joe asked.

  “The papayas you brought back, and K rations.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of. Maybe Danny and I ought to go fishing this afternoon.”

  “Not a bad idea. And by the way, Joe, try to wash some more of that mud off yourself. As a scientist I’m used to peculiar smells, but…”

  “It’ll wear off after a while,” Joe said carelessly.

  “Mmhm. I suppose it will.”

  The two boys went off, and the Professor opened the raft chest and took out the work list they had made.

  “There is one more thing I want to put on this list,” he remarked to Dr. Grimes. And in large letters he wrote: SOAP.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Adventure at Sea

  When lunch was over, Dr. Grimes got the waterproof bag and took out the emergency transmitter. It was about a foot high, with a folding crank on the top of it. In front were some switches and a small, round door which Dr. Grimes opened; inside was a reel of aerial wire.

  “This radio,” he said, examining the instruction booklet, “puts out a signal on the international distress frequency of five hundred kilocycles. All ships keep a constant watch—or rather, listen—on that frequency, so that sooner or later one is bound to hear us. To begin with, we must put up the antenna.”

  A balloon for raising the antenna was included in the kit, and when they had inflated it with the hydrogen-making device that came in the bag, they attached the antenna wire to it and let it go aloft. Dr. Grimes then sat down on the emergency chest, which was made of plywood. He put the transmitter between his thighs and strapped it into place to hold it steady. He set the switch at position One, which sent out an automatic SOS, and began turning the crank.

  “Faster,” said the Professor. “The instructions say that this light will go on when you have reached a sufficient speed to work the generator.”

  Dr. Grimes cranked grimly, his lean face red with exertion. All at once, a light flashed on at the front of the set. The Professor bent over and adjusted a knob. The light grew brighter.

  “Good. Now we’re transmitting at maximum frequency,” said the Professor.

  “I can keep this up for another twenty minutes or so,” Dr. Grimes said, “and then someone else will have to take over.”

  “We’ll all take turns at it,” the Professor replied. “Fifteen minutes each, three times a day, will give us three hours of broadcast… Where are you going, Joe?”

  Joe, who had been edging away, mumbled, “I thought Danny and I were going fishing. Dinner, you know…”

  “You can go after your fifteen minutes are over,” said the Professor firmly.

  About an hour later, the two boys dragged the raft down to the water’s edge and climbed aboard. They had fishhooks and lines fastened to light poles, and for bait they had mussels which they had found growing among the rocks in the sea.

  As they paddled away from shore Joe said mournfully, “If we have to keep up that signaling every day I won’t care whether I’m rescued or not. Even my blisters have blisters.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Danny said.

  “What, my blisters? Gee, thanks a lot.”

  “Not your blisters. That transmitter. Listen, Joe, this is better than the original plan of two islands, isn’t it?”

  “I have a feeling there’s trouble coming,” Joe groaned.

  “It’s not trouble. Wouldn’t you like to stay here a while?”

  “It depends. If we can get something besides K rations to eat, for instance—”

  “All right. You remember what Professor Bullfinch said about the ax? That we shouldn’t judge a tool by its appearance?”

  “So?”

  “So maybe that radio transmitter can be used in a different way.”

  “You mean to receive broadcasts? Like baseball games—”

  “No, no. I mean, instead of using it as a tool to get us off the island, maybe it can be used to keep us here.”

  “I don’t get it,” Joe said.

  “If something went wrong with it,” said Danny, “we couldn’t send our position. Then we’d have to stay on this island. Wouldn’t we?”

  “But what could go wrong?”

  “Well, if the crank were to disappear, for instance…”

  “Why should it disappear?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Joe,” said Danny. “Because I’d take it off and hide it in the sand.”

  Joe pursed his lips. “Hm. Suppose we couldn’t find it again?”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll remember where I put it.”

  Danny broke off. “Gosh,” he said. “Look at that! Twin sharks!”

  A short distance away, the surface of the sea was broken by the appearance of two black, triangular fins, about fifteen feet apart. As the boys watched, they sank into the water. Then all at once the sea boiled, and out of the water sprang a monstrous black shape. It was more than twice as long as the raft and shaped like an immense bat, with a long, slender, whiplike tail. It seemed to flap its wings, the tips of which they had mistaken for sharks’ fins, and then it fell back into the sea with a splash. The raft rocked.

  “Holy smoke!” yelled Joe. “What is it?”

  “Paddle!” Danny gasped. “Head for shore!”

  They dug their paddles furiously into the water. But they were so frightened that at first the raft only turned round in place.

  “Both together,” cried Danny. “Get it in rhythm. If that thing comes up under us—”

  They leaned far out and began to paddle in time, controlling their terror. At the same moment, not five feet away, the huge shape appeared on the surface. It moved by flapping its wing-shaped fins in the water. They could see two horns and a kind of snout. The beast seemed to look at them, then it flapped lazily once or twice and submerged again.

  “Easy,” Danny said, although his voice shook. “Don’t g-g-get scared. J-j-just paddle. Both together.”

  They made every stroke count. It was as if they were in a race, but a horrible one, for at any moment they expected the great fish to come up underneath them and smash them to bits. The shore came closer and closer.

  “One more,” Danny panted. “And one more. And—”

  There was another tremendous splash behind them. Neither boy dared look. But the raft was shaken again, and then it was among the breakers. A wave caught it and rushed it forward.

  There was a ripping sound, and for an instant it seemed to stand still.

  Then there came a rush of bubbles, and a loud hissing. The sides of the raft grew soft, and began to collapse. The boys made two or three more strokes and the raft sank beneath them.

  They began to swim, frantically, not knowing if the monster was behind them—afraid to look. Each time a wave crashed down upon them, they imagined they could feel the weight of the huge, bat-winged fish. But the breakers carried them in; they found themselves touching bottom, gasping and half drowned.

  The Professor and Dr. Grimes came racing down the slope. They helped the boys farther up the beach.

  “Golly,” said Joe, and for a moment could say nothing more.

  “What was it, Professor?” Danny asked.

  “It was a ray. Sometimes they’re called devilfish. I don’t think it would have harmed you except by accident. But it has a poisonous sting near the tail, and if it had come up under you—”

  Danny shuddered. “Didn’t it? Something ripped the raft.”

  “I think it was that spike of rock,” said the Professor, pointing. “Remember, we almost hit it when we first came in. The tide was low then.”

  Dr. Grimes was shading his eyes, peering out to sea. He shook his head slowly. “No sign of the raft.”

  The Professor looked grave. “Now,” he sai
d, “we are really marooned.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Mud and an Idea

  It was the morning of their fourth day on the island.

  Danny awoke with the sun in his eyes and sat up, squinting. He shook Joe, who mumbled, “Right away, Ma,” and rolled over.

  “Get up,” Danny whispered in his friend’s ear.

  Joe crawled sleepily out of the lean-to. “Wha’ time is it?” he asked.

  “Quarter after sunrise. Come on, let’s have a swim before the men get up. If they see us in the ocean they’ll start worrying. And as soon as they get up we’ll have to start working.”

  The boys ran down the trail to the beach, threw off their pants, and dashed into the water. They swam about, now and then diving for colored shells or pebbles, but keeping within the safe arms of the bay. A row of sleepy iguanas watched them from the rocks, and numbers of birds—boobies, terns, and a few pelicans—squawked at them in a friendly fashion.

  When they had finished their swim, they went to gather eggs from the nests among the cliffs, and by the time they had returned the men were awake and had put fresh wood on the fire, which they always kept burning to save matches. They roasted the eggs among the hot ashes, along with some oysters, and finished up with bananas for dessert. Their dishes were some large, tough leaves, so that washing up was no problem. Then they gathered round the Professor, who had taken out the work sheet.

  “To begin with,” he said, “suppose we mark the day. Dan, will you notch the calendar?”

  Danny opened his pocketknife and cut a notch in a stick planted in the ground before the lean-to.

  “Number four,” he said. “That makes it Wednesday.”

  “Good. Now for the day’s schedule. Grimes, what about the radio?”

  Dr. Grimes shook his head. “No luck yet.

  I can’t understand how that crank could have been lost. I put the radio under cover that very first night, and I’m sure the crank was in it. Yet when we got up next morning, it was gone.”

  “We’ve been all over this,” said the Professor. “It must have got loose, and when it fell off perhaps some animal took it.”