She slid in quietly, scarcely rippling the smooth surface of the tiny basin, and Carroll laid her on the beach.
"Now," advised Vane, "we'll drop the boom on the shore side to keep her from canting over; and then we'll get breakfast. We'll see where she's damaged when the tide ebbs."
As most of their stores had lain in the flooded lockers, from which there had been no time to extricate them, the meal was not an appetizing one. They were, however, glad to have it; and rowing ashore afterward, they lay on the shingle in the sunshine while the sloop was festooned with their drying clothes. There was no wind in that deep hollow, and they were thankful, for the weather was already getting cold.
"If she has only split a plank or two, we can patch her up," Vane remarked. "There are all the tools we'll want in the locker."
"Where will you get new planks?" Carroll inquired. "I don't think we have any spikes that would go through the frames."
"That is the trouble. I expect I'll have to make a trip across to Comox for them in a sea canoe. We're sure to come across a few Siwash somewhere in the neighborhood." Then he knit his brows. "I can't say that this expedition is beginning fortunately."
"There's no doubt on that point," Carroll agreed.
"Well, the sloop has to be patched up; and until I find that spruce I'm going on—anyway, as long as the provisions hold out. If we're not through with the business then, we'll come back again."
Carroll made no comment. It was not worth while to object, when Vane was obviously determined.