HANK, as before mentioned, was a man of resource; there was nothing much he could not do with his hands backed by his head. In two hours on board the Wear Jack he had found the materials for and constructed three tent poles; in the sail room, and by sacrificing the awning, he had obtained the necessary canvas; ropes and pegs evolved themselves from nowhere as if by magic. Then in some way, and from the interior of the Wear Jack, he managed to get planking, not much, but enough for his purpose. Whilst he worked on these matters, George superintended the removal of stores, bully beef, canned tomatoes, canned kippered herrings, biscuits, butter, tea, condensed milk, rice. He sent two Chinks ashore with a boat-load; then, when they came back, the rest of the stuff was loaded into the boat, together with the tent poles and canvas and blankets. Last came a small bundle containing Tommie’s night things and tooth brush. Then they pushed off.
Candon helped in the unloading of the boat and then they set to raising the tents.
In this section of the bay there were two breaks in the line of cliffs, a north and a south break. Hank drew the line of the tents between the breaks and at right angles to the cliffs, so as to escape, as much as possible, the hot land wind when it blew. Also he put a long distance between each tent. Tommie’s was nearest the cliffs, the Chinks’ nearest the sea. By sunset the canvas was up, a fire lit, a beaker filled with fresh water from the issue in the cliff and the stores piled to leeward of the middle tent. Hank had even brought mosquito netting and a plan for using it in the tents. He seemed to have forgotten nothing, till Tommie opened her bundle.
“Where’s my book?” asked Tommie.
“Blest if I haven’t forgot it!” cried Hank. “Chucklehead—say! I’ll put off right now and fetch it.”
“Oh, it’ll wait,” said the other. “I guess I’ll be busy enough for a while not to want books. You can fetch it tomorrow.”
If Hank had known the consequences of delay, he would have fetched it there and then, but he didn’t. He went to attend to the fire. The fire was built of dry seaweed, bits of a broken-up packing case and fragments of wreck wood, and when the kettle was boiled over it and tea made, the sun had set and the stars were looking down on the beach.
After supper Tommie went off to her tent, leaving the men to smoke. The two Chinks, who had built a microscopic fire of their own, were seated close to it talking, maybe of China and home. The wind had died out and through the warm night the sound of the waves all down the beach came like a lullaby.
Hank was giving his ideas of how they should start in the morning attacking the sand, when Candon, who had been smoking silently, suddenly cut in.