"Oh, I don't know about that," said the doctor, "they make up pretty large packages of pemmican for the arctic expeditions."
"But they never pack up pemmican in copper cylinders," said Melick, who had been using his knife to scrape off the crust from the vessel.
"Copper!" exclaimed Oxenden. "Is it copper?"
"Look for yourselves," said Melick, quietly.
They all looked, and could see, where the knife had cut into the vessel, that it was as he said. It was copper.
"It's foreign work," said Melick. "In England we make tin cans for everything. It may be something that's drifted out from Mogadore or some port in Morocco."
"In that case," said Oxenden, "it may contain the mangled remains of one of the wives of some Moorish pasha."
By this time they had reached the yacht and hurried aboard. All were eager to satisfy their curiosity. Search was made for a cold-chisel, but to no purpose. Then Featherstone produced a knife which was used to open sardine boxes, but after a faithful trial this proved useless. At length Melick, who had gone off in search of something more effective, made his appearance armed with an axe. With this he attacked the copper cylinder, and by means of a few dexterous blows succeeded in cutting it open. Then he looked in.
"What do you see?" asked Featherstone.
"Something," said Melick, "but I can't quite make it out."