"That sounds all right," said his father. "But how are we to get the gear up there—including the useless lump of animated clay in the shape of myself?"
"I hadn't thought of that," replied Andy.
"We must find a more convenient spot at first," continued Mr. McKay. "Then, when we have landed all the gear from the ship that we can possibly manage to move, we can devise some means of setting up a more substantial dwelling on the terrace you mention. Now, if you will please carry me ashore, you can proceed to unload the boat."
In spite of the adaptable jetty, the work of getting Mr. McKay—crippled as he was—on shore was no easy task. The patient bore the discomfort gamely, uttering a heartfelt sigh of relief as the lads set the improvised stretcher down in the shade of a thin grove of cocoanut palms.
"How far away is the stream—I think you mentioned there was a stream in the bay?" asked Ellerton.
"Less than a hundred yards away. It's very clean, but not so full as the one we found," replied Andy.
"Then let's set up the tent. This place will do for a day or two at least."
The chosen site consisted of soft springy turf, sloping very gradually towards the lagoon. In the background was a wall of rock, about forty feet in height, forming the limit of the next terrace, while on either hand the trees served as an efficient screen from all winds save those blowing from the sea.
By the aid of their axes the lads felled five young palms, and soon stripped them of their heads. Four of the trunks were then lashed in pairs, and set up with guy-ropes at a distance of about fifteen feet apart, and one end of the fifth pole was placed over the crutch formed by one of the pairs.
This done, Ellerton swarmed up the other pair of poles and fastened a small pulley to the extremity of one of them. A rope was passed through the block, one end being lashed to the lower part of the fifth pole that rested on the ground.