"Put up an oar," she said bravely.
"But there is no oar."
"Oh," she said, again discouraged.
There was another thoughtful silence; but she was not to be overwhelmed.
"We must get food," she said; "we must fish."
"That's right," chimed the Maestro resolutely; "we must fish. Have you any hooks?"
"I have pins," she said.
"I have string," he said.
He fumbled through his pockets and drew two pieces of sorry twine. She turned her back upon him, worked mysteriously at her garments, and handed him five pins. "Bend them into hooks," she said.
He kneeled down and, after pricking his fingers several times, succeeded in bending two pins against the thwart. He passed them through the ends of the twine, and they were the possessors of two fishing lines.