“She’s certainly a good deal nearer the shore,” said Arthur.
“She’s so deep down,” said Bruce, “that she’ll touch bottom if she drags much longer,—and a strong breeze might do it too.”
“If it does,” said Phil, “then good by forever to her. A timber ship may hold together as long as she keeps in deep water; but these rocks would soon grind her to powder, if she touched them.”
“Let her grind,” say I.
“Yes. I give up my share of the salvage.”
“The best place for her will be the bottom of the sea.”
“At any rate, we’ll make one final haul, boys, and take ashore everything that may be needed at all.”
The boys now hurried to complete their preparations, for the sun was not more than one half hour above the horizon, and there was no time to spare. Arthur went to secure the sails. He selected a half dozen of the largest sheets, and flung them into the boat. They were the coarsest and strongest which he could find. Tom found some sail needles and sail twine in a drawer in the pantry, where he remembered having seen them before.
They then rolled out four barrels of biscuit, and put them on board the boat. After this they put six hams in her, and all the rest of the potted meat, and canned vegetables, and other dainties. Phil looked with longing eyes at the galley stove, but concluded that it was best not to try to convey that ashore. Finally, they took all the blankets, for they were articles that promised to be always useful.
With this cargo they returned to the shore.