"To be sure!" responded Jack. "How could we have had so little gumption as not to have thought of it?"
"Oakum is hemp obtained from untwisting old ropes," continued Uncle Gerald. "In genuine ship-building, calking consists in crowding threads of this material with great force into the seams between the planks. When filled, they are then rubbed over with pitch, or what is known as marine glue,—a composition of shellac and caoutchouc. It will not be necessary for you to do all this, however. Oakum is often used for packing goods also. I dare say if you hunt around in the barn you will find a little lying about somewhere. But, bless me, you young rogues! Here you are all this time in your wet clothes. Leo, your mother will be worried for fear you may take cold. Run home as fast as you can and get into a dry suit. And you other fellows, come! We'll take the Jolly Pioneer back to the workshop without delay; and then you must hurry and do the same."
IV.
Many days had not passed before the boys succeeded in making the punt water-tight. Yet the carpentering still went on at the barn.
"What is all the hammering for now?" asked Mr. Gordon one afternoon. "I thought the Jolly Pioneer was in splendid trim and doing good service."
"So she is," answered Jack. "But—well, she doesn't quite come up to our expectations; so Rob and I have given her to the little boys. We are building a larger boat for ourselves."
Upon the principle "Never look a gift-horse in the mouth," Jim and Leo were not disposed to find anything amiss with the present. In the first flush of their pride of possession they were quite jubilant.
It was shortly after this that Jim came in to dinner one day, tattooed in a manner which would remind one of a sachem in full Indian war-paint. There was a patch of blue low down on one cheek, a daub of red high up on the other, a tip of chrome-yellow on the end of his nose, and a fair share of all three upon his hands, and the sleeve of his jacket as well.
"Why, my son!" exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, as this vision met her eyes.
"Can't help it, mother,—it won't come off. I've scrubbed and scrubbed!" the little fellow protested, apologetically.