From the galley and store-rooms he collected a good stock of provisions and such utensils as he thought he was likely to need. For the boy had come to a hasty conclusion that he would take up quarters on Skull Island for the present, at any rate. He knew that whalers and sealers sometimes touched there, and he might stand a chance of being rescued if he remained there instead of venturing, in a flimsy dory, on unknown seas.
But when he had the dory all loaded a difficulty he had not thought of in his haste presented itself.
How was he to launch it?
This problem bothered him not a little for some time. But at last he solved it. At each end of the dory was a “becket� or loop of rope. Raynor unfastened the throat halyards of the mainsail and hooked them into these loops. Then it was an easy matter to hoist the dory aloft by the aid of block and tackle. The Polly Ann had heeled so far over by this time, that once the dory was in the air, it swung out over the water, to which Raynor quickly lowered it.
Then he dropped over the side and on board his little craft.
“Good-bye, old Polly Ann,� he exclaimed, as he took up the oars and began rowing through the drifting ice for the shore of Skull Island. “You saved my life, but even so I can’t say I’ve any particular love for you.�
With this exordium he set to work at his rowing in earnest. It was hard work but at last he grounded his boat on a strip of sandy beach.
“Welcome to Skull Island,� he said to himself, “Let’s hope our stay here will be a short one.�
He dragged the boat up as far as he could on the beach, and then unloaded his various goods. They made quite a pile.
“I’m a regular Arctic Robinson Crusoe,� he exclaimed, half aloud.