It was one of the boats used for fishing and deep sea work, hence the contents of the locker.
The steel head of a two pronged fish spear, a fisherman’s knife in its sheath with belt, a paternoster, invaluable for the fathoms of fishing line attached, a small American axe with the head vaselined, a canvas housewife with sail-needles, a few darning needles and some pack thread, and a number of odds and ends including some extra heavy lead sinkers.
Bompard looked on apathetically and La Touche stood with his hands in his pockets as the girl fished the things out one by one, placing them, some on the sands and some on the thwarts of the boat.
The things seemed to have no interest for the men. Accustomed all their lives to being looked after as far as shelter and food were concerned they seemed absolutely helpless in front of new conditions. Men are like that, especially men of the people, and when you read of Crusoes and their wonderful doings on desert islands you read Romance.
The quick, trained mind of the girl seemed to see clearly where they could scarcely see at all, she had imagination and she was a woman—that is to say a being more gifted than man, with prevision in affairs purely material.
Bompard did not see any use in the axe and said so. The girl, with her hand resting on the gunnel of the boat, stood like a housekeeper trying to explain to a mere male creature the use of some household implement.
“We will want a fire and an axe will chop wood,” said she.
“Ay, and where are you to get the wood?” asked La Touche. “There’s not a tree on this blasted place, nor the sign of one.”
“Well, we’ll have to look—there may be trees inland—there’s sure to be bushes of some sort—anyhow we will take these things up to the cave, they will be safer there.”
The baling tin of the boat caught her eye, she included it amongst her prizes.