A large supply of wood was gathered and stored in the farther end of the boat-shed; in short we made every preparation for a comfortable rainy season, protected from the wind and the rain. Hurricanes could not be guarded against, so we only hoped that they would give us a wide berth.
The first showers had set in ere we resumed work on the boat. From one of the best planks we fashioned the keel, which was laid with some ceremony, Marjorie constituting the audience; after which we set about getting out the stern-post and the frame-pieces. While we were thus occupied Marjorie performed the house-hold duties, and, at odd times, busied herself heating the nails white-hot, and dropping them into water, which process transformed them into "clinch" nails.
She also made several bags from sail-cloth strongly sewed, for the reception of the gold. The bags were filled with the coins, securely sewed up and stored away in Marjorie's trunk, nearly filling it. We decided that this would be the safest way to dispose of it for the present.
Work on the boat went on apace, each day being much like its predecessor. The daily showers became more frequent and copious and we saw the sun less often.
At times we felt depressed and our isolation grew irksome.
One morning, having had breakfast, we started for the boat-house, when we were brought to a sudden stand-still.
A long-drawn sound like a trumpet blown at a distance echoed and reverberated through the trees. It continued several seconds, during which we remained in a listening attitude.
Neither of us spoke.
It was repeated again; what could it mean, what could it be?
Surely it could not come from any wild animal for we had seen none larger than a pig.