It seemed woven together, quite as much as built.
He multiplied the fastenings, and added nails where they were necessary.
Having obtained a great quantity of bar iron from the wreck, he had been able to make a large number of these heavy nails.
While still at work, he broke some biscuit with his teeth. He was thirsty, but he could not drink, having no more fresh water. He had emptied the can at his meal of the evening before.
He added afterwards four or five more pieces of timber; then climbed again upon the barrier and listened.
The noises from the horizon had ceased; all was still.
The sea was smooth and quiet; deserving all those complimentary phrases which worthy citizens bestow upon it when satisfied with a trip. “A mirror,” “a pond,” “like oil,” and so forth. The deep blue of the sky responded to the deep green tint of the ocean. The sapphire and the emerald hues vied with each other. Each were perfect. Not a cloud on high, not a line of foam below. In the midst of all this splendour, the April sun rose magnificently. It was impossible to imagine a lovelier day.
On the verge of the horizon a flight of birds of passage formed a long dark line against the sky. They were flying fast as if alarmed.
Gilliatt set to work again to raise the breakwater.
He raised it as high as he could; as high, indeed, as the curving of the rocks would permit.