By dint of hard work and manœuvring Tom and I, at the end of ten days more, had got our boat raised and decked forward and aft, leaving only an open space amidships in which we could lie down; and in this we also built a cemented fireplace similar to the one we had found in the dead man’s hut. Outside the boat we had also fastened a great, bolster-like fender of cocoanut fibre, which we served over with string made of the same material, the whole being thoroughly soaked in a mixture of cocoanut oil and hog fat; for Bill, while we were acting as shipwrights, had been farming and hunting to make provision for our voyage, and as we said we wanted grease, he had boiled down the remains of two porkers, of which he had salted part to furnish us with meat.
The only question now remaining was to rig our little ship, and this gave rise to endless discussion. At first we decided on keeping her mizzen as it was, and altering the torn dipping lug into a jib and standing lug; but we soon saw that she was now so much deeper and heavier that this would scarcely move her except in very heavy weather.
After much trouble we managed, by fitting her with a bowsprit and using up all that was not rotten of the canvas we had found on the island, to give her a suit of sails for going on a wind, and made a huge mat of palm leaves for a square-sail to be set in running.
All being completed, we packed on board under her fore and aft decks a stock of provisions, consisting of dried and salted pig, turtle flesh, smoked fish, and maize; while, besides our beakers, we had hundreds of cocoanut shells full of water, and on deck we had a coop of a dozen fowls.
All being prepared, our stock, according to our calculations, being enough to last us for at least a couple of months, we paddled the Escape out of the lagoon, and, making sail to a fresh trade wind which blew on our beam, we steered in the direction of the nearest island marked on the chart.
Though we had been now a long time on the island, and had found a refuge there from starvation or a still more dreadful death by thirst, we quitted it without regret, and launched forth on our voyage into the unknown.
As to setting our course, at first we had an idea by the sun by day, and we had learned aboard of the Golden Fleece that when the Southern Cross was vertical it was always due south; but I do not suppose we were ever accurate within two or three points either way of south-west, which we aimed at, and mostly by keeping the wind abeam.
The Escape made very good weather and steered easily, but, notwithstanding the size of her patchwork sails, she did not go fast through the water. “Never mind, lads,” said Tom, when Bill and I complained of this; “it’s better than a leaky corner of the forecastle of the Fleece to sleep in.”
“Yes,” I said, “and there ain’t no mate to boot us or bos’n to rope’s-end us here either.”
“Ay, and more than that,” cried Bill, who was superintending the boiling of our pot, in which was a piece of beautiful pork and some maize, “our tucker here ain’t mouldy, weevilly biscuit and salt junk that’s more fit for sole leather than food for humans.”