Dolphin Island

“Well, it’s been known for half a century that they have an elaborate language of their own. We’ve been trying to learn it—and, at the same time, trying to teach them Basic English. We’ve made a good deal of progress, thanks to the techniques worked out by Professor Kazan. You’ll meet him when he comes back from the mainland; he’s very anxious to hear your story. Meanwhile I’d better find someone to look after you.”

Dr. Keith pressed a switch, and a reply came at once from an intercom speaker.

“School here. Yes, Doctor?”

“Any of the older boys free at the moment?”

“You can have Mick—and welcome to him.”

“Good—send him around to the office.”

Johnny sighed. Even on an island as small and remote as this, it seemed that one couldn’t escape from school.

Chapter 6

As a guide to the island, Mick Nauru had just one drawback—he would exaggerate. Most of his tall stories were so outrageous that there was no danger of taking them seriously, but sometimes Johnny was left in doubt. Was it really true, for instance, that Nurse Tessie (or Two-Ton Tessie as the islanders called her) had left home because the big girls on Tonga poked fun at her for being so small? Johnny didn’t think so, but Mick assured him that it was perfectly true. “Ask her if you don’t believe me,” he said, his face completely solemn beneath his huge mop of black, frizzy hair.

Luckily, his other information was more easily checked, and on matters that were really important, he was quite serious. As soon as Dr. Keith had handed Johnny over to him, Mick took him on a quick tour of the island and introduced him to its geography.

There was quite a lot in a small area, and it was several days before Johnny knew his way around. The first thing he learned was that Dolphin Island had two populations—the scientists and technicians of the research station, and the fisherfolk who operated the boats and made a living from the sea. The fishing community also provided the workers who ran the power station, water supply, and other essential services, such as the cookhouse, laundry, and the tiny farm of ten pampered cows.

“We brought in the cows,” explained Mick, “after the Professor tried to process dolphin milk. That’s the only time we’ve ever had a mutiny on the island.”

“How long have you been here,” asked Johnny. “Were you born here?”

“Oh, no, my people come from Darnley Island, up in the Torres Strait. They moved here five years ago, when I was twelve. The pay was good, and it sounded interesting.”

“And is it interesting?”

“You bet! I wouldn’t go back to Darnley, or the mainland either. Wait until you see the reef, and you’ll understand why.”

They had left the cleared paths and were taking a short cut through the small forest which covered most of the island. Though the trees were closely packed, it was not hard to push a way through them, for there were none of the thorns and creepers that Johnny had expected in a tropical forest. The plant life of the island was wild, but well behaved.

Some of the trees appeared to have small piles of sticks propped around their bases, and it was some time before Johnny realized that the props were actually part of the trees. It seemed that they did not trust the soft soil in which they were growing, and had sent out extra roots above ground as buttresses.

“They’re pandanus,” explained Mick. “Some people call them breadfruit trees, because you can make a kind of bread from them. I ate some once; it tasted horrible. Look out!”

He was too late. Johnny’s right leg had sunk into the ground up to his knee, and as he floundered to extricate himself, the left leg plunged even deeper.

“Sorry,” said Mick, who didn’t look at all sorry. “I should have warned you. There’s a muttonbird colony here—they make their nests in the ground, like rabbits, and in some places you can’t walk a foot without falling into them.”

“Thank you for telling me,” said Johnny sarcastically, as he clambered out and dusted himself off. There were a great many things to learn, it seemed, on Dolphin Island.

He came to grief several times in the burrows of the muttonbirds—or wedge-tailed shearwaters, to give them their proper name—before they emerged from the trees and walked down onto the beach on the eastern side of the island, facing the great emptiness of the open Pacific. It was hard to believe that he had come from far beyond that distant horizon, brought here by a miracle he still did not understand.

There was no sign of human life; they might have been the only inhabitants. This coast was exposed to the seasonal gales, so all the buildings and dock installations were on the opposite side of the island. A huge tree trunk, cast up on the sand and bleached white by months and years of sun, was a silent monument to some past hurricane. There were even great boulders of dead coral, weighing many tons, which could only have been hurled up onto the beach by wave action. And yet it all looked so peaceful now.