Then he gave a glad shout.

"By Jove! Miss Deane, we are in luck's way.

There is a fine plantain tree." The pangs of hunger could not be resisted.

Although the fruit was hardly ripe they tore at the great bunches and ate ravenously.

Iris made no pretence in the matter, and the sailor was in worse plight, for he had been on duty continuously since four o'clock the previous afternoon.
At last their appetite was somewhat appeased, though plantains might not appeal to a gourmand as the solitary joint.
"Now," decided Jenks, "you must rest here a little while, Miss Deane.