the sandy soil that the muttonbirds
had riddled with their burrows.
It was a strange feeling, being “lost” only a few hundred feet from the crowded settlement
and all his friends. He could easily imagine that he was in the heart of some vast
jungle, a thousand miles from civilization. There was all the loneliness and mystery
of the untamed wild, with none of its danger, for if he pushed on in any direction,
he would be out of the tiny forest in five minutes. True, he wouldn’t come out in
the place he had intended, but that hardly mattered on so small an island.
Suddenly he became aware of something odd about the patch of jungle into which he
had blundered. The trees were smaller and farther apart than elsewhere, and as he
looked around him, Johnny slowly realized that this had once been a clearing in the
forest. It must have been abandoned a long, long time ago, for it had become almost
completely overgrown. In a few more years, all trace of it would be lost.
Who could have lived here, he wondered, years before radio and aircraft had brought
the Great Barrier Reef into contact with the world? Criminals? Pirates? All sorts
of romantic ideas flashed through his mind, and he began to poke around among the
roots of the trees to see what he could find.
He had become a little discouraged, and was wondering if he was simply imagining things,
when he came across some smoke-blackened stones half covered by leaves and earth.
A fireplace, he decided, and redoubled his efforts. Almost at once, he found some
pieces of rusty iron, a cup that had lost its handle, and a broken spoon.
That was all. It was not a very exciting treasure trove, but it did prove that civilized
people, not savages, had been here long ago. No one would come to Dolphin Island,
so far from land, merely to have a picnic; whoever they were, they must have had a
good reason.
Taking the spoon as a souvenir, Johnny left the clearing, and ten minutes later was
back on the beach. He went in search of Mick, whom he found in the classroom, nearing
the end of Mathematics II, tape 3. As soon as Mick had finished, switched off the
teaching machine, and thumbed his nose at it, Johnny showed him the spoon and described
where he had found it.
To his surprise, Mick seemed ill at ease.
“I wish you hadn’t taken that,” he said. “Better put it back.”
“But why?” asked Johnny in amazement.
Mick was quite embarrassed. He scuffed his large, bare feet on the polished plastic
floor and did not answer directly.
“Of course,” he said, “I don’t
really
believe in ghosts, but I’d hate to be there by myself on a dark night.”
Johnny was now getting a little exasperated, but he knew that he’d have to let Mick
tell the story in his own way. Mick began by taking Johnny to the Message Center,
putting through a local call to the Brisbane Museum, and speaking a few words to the
Assistant Curator of the Queensland History Department.
A few seconds later, a strange object appeared on the vision screen. It was a small
iron tank, or cistern, about four feet square and two feet deep, standing in a glass
display case. Beside it were two crude oars.
“What do you think
that
is?” asked Mick.
“It looks like a water tank to me,” said Johnny.
“Yes,” said Mick, “but it was a boat, too, and it sailed from this island a hundred
and thirty years ago—with three people in it.”
“
Three
people—in a thing that size!”
“Well, one was a baby. The grownups were an Englishwoman, Mary Watson, and her Chinese
cook, whose name I don’t remember—it was Ah Something….”
As the strange story unfolded, Johnny was transported back in time to an age that
he could scarcely imagine. Yet it was only 1881—not yet a century and a half ago.
There had been telephones and steam engines then, and Albert Einstein had already
been born. But along the Great Barrier Reef, cannibals still paddled their
had riddled with their burrows.
It was a strange feeling, being “lost” only a few hundred feet from the crowded settlement
and all his friends. He could easily imagine that he was in the heart of some vast
jungle, a thousand miles from civilization. There was all the loneliness and mystery
of the untamed wild, with none of its danger, for if he pushed on in any direction,
he would be out of the tiny forest in five minutes. True, he wouldn’t come out in
the place he had intended, but that hardly mattered on so small an island.
Suddenly he became aware of something odd about the patch of jungle into which he
had blundered. The trees were smaller and farther apart than elsewhere, and as he
looked around him, Johnny slowly realized that this had once been a clearing in the
forest. It must have been abandoned a long, long time ago, for it had become almost
completely overgrown. In a few more years, all trace of it would be lost.
Who could have lived here, he wondered, years before radio and aircraft had brought
the Great Barrier Reef into contact with the world? Criminals? Pirates? All sorts
of romantic ideas flashed through his mind, and he began to poke around among the
roots of the trees to see what he could find.
He had become a little discouraged, and was wondering if he was simply imagining things,
when he came across some smoke-blackened stones half covered by leaves and earth.
A fireplace, he decided, and redoubled his efforts. Almost at once, he found some
pieces of rusty iron, a cup that had lost its handle, and a broken spoon.
That was all. It was not a very exciting treasure trove, but it did prove that civilized
people, not savages, had been here long ago. No one would come to Dolphin Island,
so far from land, merely to have a picnic; whoever they were, they must have had a
good reason.
Taking the spoon as a souvenir, Johnny left the clearing, and ten minutes later was
back on the beach. He went in search of Mick, whom he found in the classroom, nearing
the end of Mathematics II, tape 3. As soon as Mick had finished, switched off the
teaching machine, and thumbed his nose at it, Johnny showed him the spoon and described
where he had found it.
To his surprise, Mick seemed ill at ease.
“I wish you hadn’t taken that,” he said. “Better put it back.”
“But why?” asked Johnny in amazement.
Mick was quite embarrassed. He scuffed his large, bare feet on the polished plastic
floor and did not answer directly.
“Of course,” he said, “I don’t
really
believe in ghosts, but I’d hate to be there by myself on a dark night.”
Johnny was now getting a little exasperated, but he knew that he’d have to let Mick
tell the story in his own way. Mick began by taking Johnny to the Message Center,
putting through a local call to the Brisbane Museum, and speaking a few words to the
Assistant Curator of the Queensland History Department.
A few seconds later, a strange object appeared on the vision screen. It was a small
iron tank, or cistern, about four feet square and two feet deep, standing in a glass
display case. Beside it were two crude oars.
“What do you think
that
is?” asked Mick.
“It looks like a water tank to me,” said Johnny.
“Yes,” said Mick, “but it was a boat, too, and it sailed from this island a hundred
and thirty years ago—with three people in it.”
“
Three
people—in a thing that size!”
“Well, one was a baby. The grownups were an Englishwoman, Mary Watson, and her Chinese
cook, whose name I don’t remember—it was Ah Something….”
As the strange story unfolded, Johnny was transported back in time to an age that
he could scarcely imagine. Yet it was only 1881—not yet a century and a half ago.
There had been telephones and steam engines then, and Albert Einstein had already
been born. But along the Great Barrier Reef, cannibals still paddled their
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