"Perhaps an extra strong tide might lift it off the rocks," said Andy. "If only it would—and we could mend it! I'd try to sail back home again."
"Well, there's nothing left in the boat that could be taken away now," said Tom. "I really think we've got everything movable—ropes, nets, even the oars!"
It was quite true. The boys had brought back with the oil everything in the locker. Ropes might never come in useful—but still, Andy thought they might as well take them. The children thoroughly explored the tittle island again, but found nothing interesting at all. They could see that the farm-people had used the level stretch of land on the more southerly side of the island for their fields. In one place, Jill found some runner beans growing over a tangle of brambles, and she called out in excitement:
"Beans! we'll eat them for dinner!"
The others came to look. "I expect these seeded themselves too," said Andy. "Maybe there was a bean-field just here. Well—we're not doing too badly, with potatoes and beans and fish!"
There was nothing to do that afternoon, except bathe and fish. The little shack was finished—there was nothing more to add to it. They could do nothing with their wrecked boat. It was of no use going for a ramble for the island was so small. So Tom suggested a bathe first, and fishing afterwards.
It was warm in the sunshiny sea. They swam through the big waves and splashed about lazily. Then they came out of the sea and lay in the sun to dry. After that, the boys sat on the rocks to fish and the girls went to hunt for prawns, shrimps, and shellfish.
The tide was very low that evening. The wind had completely dropped, and the sea was almost calm—as nearly calm as it ever could be on that rough, rocky coast. The children stood on a rocky ledge, looking to the north where the other islands lay, blue with a summery mist.
"They really look as if they are just floating on the water," said Jill dreamily. "They do look lovely. I wish we could visit them."
"Well, it would be quite easy if we chose low tide," said Andy, pointing to the line of rocks that were now uncovered, and which seemed to lead in a crooked line to the next island. "I'd like fine to go across those rocks to-morrow morning when the tide is low again. We could take food for the day—and see what war on the next island—and climb back across the rocks at low tide to-morrow night."