Dan soon had the box in pieces and the nails removed.
“I’m wonderful slow to think of things sometimes,” remarked he as he worked. “Now why weren’t I thinkin’ of this box first off?”
Cleats were fashioned by Dan from the pieces of box, with the axe as his one working tool, and he was finally ready to nail them in position, where they would hold the broken planks in place. Nails were few, and it was necessary that great economy be practiced in their use and that each be driven where it would do the most good.
The swell was increasing, the north wind was rising, and with every hour the position of the boys was becoming more dangerous. The first cleat had scarcely been nailed down when a wave broke over the pan, washing its whole surface, not deep enough to carry the things away, but suggesting the possibility that another one might presently do so. Dan had fortunately put his cleats in the boat as he made them, or the wave would certainly have carried off the light pieces of wood.
“Paul, you be loadin’ the things in the boat,” said Dan, “while I does th’ mendin’. Th’ next swell breakin’ over th’ pan may carry th’ bags overboard. Load th’ light bags first.”
Paul obeyed, and when the next wave, a little heavier than the first, broke over the pan the outfit was out of its reach.
It was well past noon when the last cleat was placed, and Dan began to caulk with strips torn from a shirt, using as his tool a wedge made from a piece of the box.
The caulking was not yet half done when the boys were startled by a loud report, like that of a gun.
“There she goes!” exclaimed Dan. “I were lookin’ for un! Th’ pan’s busted!”
And sure enough, fully a third of their pan had broken loose from the main body of ice which held them.