It was soon found and towed ashore, where, after the boat had been made fast to a piece of rock, the canvas was drawn over the dry burning sands, first on one side and then on the other, parting readily with its moisture, and being finally left in the hot glow.
The captain joined them directly after with the major.
“Did you hear it, father?” whispered Mark.
“No, my boy; all has been perfectly silent. Now, to see if we cannot make some kind of shelter.”
It was by no means a difficult job, for Small and Billy Widgeon soon set the boat mast free from its lashings, which were utilised to fasten the slight spar horizontally between two thin cocoa-nut palms at about three feet from the ground, which was here, as for the most part about them, covered with soft dry drifted sand.
Over this it was proposed to hang the sail as soon as it was dry and peg out the sides, for which purpose Small and his companion took out their knives, and, attacking a low scrubby bush, soon had a sufficiency ready.
“Not much of a place, Mark,” said the captain cheerfully; “but it will make a dry little tent for the ladies till we see what we can do.”
The next thing was to overhaul the stores, which made so poor a show that the captain knit his brow, but cleared it directly, and helped to place all together in a little heap beneath the cocoa-nut trees in company with the ammunition, of which there was a fair supply, and the arms.
“I think these men should carry revolvers in their belts,” said the captain, “in case of there being any danger.”
“Decidedly,” said the major in an emphatic way.