"Not up to much, Master Mont, I'll bet," observed Stump.
"What do you know about it?"
"What can they give us? Porpoise stew, fillets of dogfish, or stewed shark. I'd rather have some salt junk on board the ship."
The negro disappeared with the covers, and all but Stump sat down.
"Fire away, Stump," said Mont, looking at the dishes.
"After you; I can wait," replied the boy-of-all-work.
"Sit down, I tell you. When people are shipwrecked they are all equal. Pitch in," answered Mont.
Stump sat down. There was no bread, tea, or coffee, but a bottle of water supplied its place.
It was difficult to say what the dinner consisted of. It was a mixture of fish and vegetable matter, but not an atom of meat.
For some time no one spoke. The business of eating was all-absorbing, for one must eat, especially after a shipwreck.