But Ben had ideas, which he did not make known to Joe, very different from the construction of cranes or crowbars. These it were which occasioned his joy at the sight of the wreck.
“These are the spars of a big ship,” said Ben; “neither the sea nor the wind took these sticks out of her.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because, if the ship had gone ashore, and gone to pieces, the spars and this gripe would have gone where she did. She never lost that mast by the wind. If she had, the chain-plates wouldn’t be hanging to the shrouds, for no rigging would hold to tear the channels from a ship’s side.”
“No more it wouldn’t. I never thought of that; but how did she lose it?”
“She has run full splinter on to an iceberg, and struck it with her starboard bow. An iceberg would scrub her chain off as easy as you would pull a mitten off your hand.”
“Then she went down with all hands.”
“Perhaps not. I’ve seen a vessel keep up, and get into port, that had her stem cut off within four inches of the hood ends. Look there,” pointing to the larboard shrouds of the fore-rigging; on the dead-eyes and the shrouds were the marks of an axe. “Somebody did that in cutting the lanyard to let the spars go clear of the ship. They would not have done that if she had been going down.”
They built a shed of boards to put the rigging and sails under, and yards, while Charles burnt the mast, bowsprit, and caps to get the iron.
Snow having now fallen, they began to haul their spars and logs to the beach. John Strout now came over and brought the basket-stuff, and Charles sent word by him to John that he would like to take Fred Williams into partnership.