Vance suggested that they go into the grove, where the party would be partially sheltered from the wind, but Ned refused to leave the beach. He insisted that it was in the highest degree important to be on hand in case the yacht went to pieces, and the others would not venture alone.
Inch by inch the water receded until the wreck was in such a position that it would be possible to board her by wading a short distance, and Ned proposed that the work of salvage be begun at once.
“I can send down a lot of stuff by going aboard an’ riggin’ a block on the flag-staff,” he said, but the others thought it best to wait until the storm had cleared away.
By noon the rain ceased falling, and Ned built a fire after some difficulty, owing to the dampness of everything, including the matches, and then, as Roy and Vance began to feel the pangs of hunger, they agreed that it was time to get some of the stores ashore.
Ned clambered aboard, the boys directing his movements, and if Vance had not interfered, he would have landed each article as it came to hand.
“There is no sense in doing that until we have something in the way of a tent to keep the stuff dry. There’s little danger of another storm right away, and we may as well do the thing properly.”
“Well, what do you want first?”
“Get enough out of the pantry for dinner, and after we’ve had something to eat we’ll set at work on the tent. There are a lot of old sails in the forepeak, and we shall have canvas in plenty.”
Ned selected about three times as much provisions as the little party could eat at a single meal, for the yacht had everything on board to tempt one’s appetite, and the castaways made a hearty dinner of the choicest canned goods.
Ned sent ashore cooking utensils in abundance, and Roy, who proved to be no mean cook, served up the different dishes in a manner far excelling anything in the culinary line Ned had ever seen.