I came up to where my companions were at work, and told them of my failure, and said,—
“I’m afraid I can do nothing to the boat. I only make the leaks worse by calking.”
“Don’t be down-hearted, mate. We’ll have a look at her, and see if we can’t figure out a way to make her sea-worthy, for I don’t intend to live on this island all my days,” said Tom. “Now it’s about time to knock off work for an hour or so, and after we’ve had some food, we’ll all set to work to thatch the hut and have it finished before night.”
Accordingly we knocked off work, and while Bill went to get some fresh fish from a pool, Tom and I went to make up the fire by which we were smoking those we had prepared the day before.
In doing this we found that some coral and shells, which had been mixed up with the fuel, had been burnt, and when we touched it, it fell to pieces.
“Why, it’s lime,” said Tom. “Now that gives me an idea. In India and China I’ve seen lime and oil used for calking instead of pitch, and we’ll plaster the boat inside with the mixture, so as to keep out the water.”
“That’s very well,” I said, “but where’s the oil to come from?”
“Why, out of the cocoanuts. You know all the copra, as they call it, which we shipped in the Golden Fleece is only dried cocoanut kernels, and all they use it for is to make oil.”
“Well, then, but we can’t get the oakum to hold in the boat, and all your oily mortar will crack out.”
“No doubt we’ll find a way. But come now, Bill has dinner ready, and after dinner we’ll finish the hut, and I daresay before long we’ll think of a way to patch the boat.”