“I was thinking precisely the same,” said the captain eagerly, while Mark said nothing, for with the ship’s stores and treasures to work upon it seemed as if they could make themselves very happy in such a glorious place. With a comfortable home, plenty of fruit and birds, and their friends about them, life on the island would be a very happy one, so it seemed to him, and he felt a kind of wonder that there should be a difference of opinion. But then there was the volcano and the earthquake!
They were now picking their way aft, and here the destruction was greater. In one place it was perfectly plain that the powder-keg must have stood, for coamings, bulwarks, skylights, everything had been swept clear off at the time the explosion occurred, while as they reached the saloon entry it was to find only its place, for here the fire had been raging furiously, the poop-deck and the cabins on either side of the saloon being burned completely away.
“Well,” said the captain, after a long inspection, “we’ve found the poor old girl, Gregory, and she’s past mending.”
“Yes,” said Gregory with a short sharp nod of the head.
“But she will be a treasure-house for us, and some of her cargo may be saved, so we must make her fast.”
“Not much fear of her breaking away,” said the mate; “she’s well wedged in these sands, and it strikes me—yes, it is so, that big wave to-day gave her a lift up and drove her farther ashore. No tide would ever float her off.”
“No,” said the captain, “but all the same let’s make sure. We could get a cable out to yon piece of rock and moor her safely.”
“Yes,” said the mate. “Now, my lads, bear a hand.”
All joined in, from the captain to Mark, and in half an hour a cable was run out of one of the hawse-holes, dragged high up the sands, one end taken round a huge mass of rock, tied and lashed, and the other end well stopped in the ship.
“There,” said the captain, “that’s enough. Now for home. Shall we go back the same way?”