“How many years have we been here, Dick?” asked Charley. “It seems to me a great many, for I was a very little fellow when you first took charge of me, and now I am a strong big chap.”
“Bring me the bundle of sticks and I will tell you,” said Dick; “for I have not thought of reckoning lately, though I have kept the score as carefully as at first.” Charley went and brought several sticks tied together and notched all over. Dick examined them.
“It’s three years to-day, according to my reckoning, since we were put on shore. To my mind we ought to thank God, who has taken such care of us all this time. I should not mind, however, getting away soon, for your sake. It’s time you should be having some book-learning. I don’t want you to grow into a poor ignorant fellow like me.”
“You are not ignorant, Dick,” said Charley. “You taught me all I know, and I have no greater fancy for books than you have.”
“But, Charley, I have another reason for wishing to get away,” said Dick. “You see our clothes are pretty nearly worn out, and I have only stuff enough to make one more suit for you and one for myself, and you will grow out of yours pretty fast, as you have done the others. Then we may not always find provisions as plentiful as we have generally up to this time; birds don’t come to the island as they did once, and I fancy that even the fish don’t bite as freely along shore as they used to do. I have been thinking of building a larger boat, so that we may go farther off. That wreck which drove on the reef six months ago has given us plenty of stuff for timbers and planking, as well as canvas for sails, and now you are big enough to help me, I shall get on faster than when I built the small one.”
Charley replied that he should be glad to do whatever Dick wished, and would try to learn carpentering. Dick accordingly set to work to build a large boat. The undertaking was, however, more difficult than he had expected, and at last he had to abandon his design, and, instead, to try and enlarge the little punt, or the coracle rather, which he had constructed some time before.
The two carpenters laboured away every day, when not engaged in shooting or fishing, or otherwise providing for their support.
Dick had husbanded his ammunition, but even that was coming to an end, and though eggs were still to be found, he could not hope longer to shoot many birds, which had become wilder in consequence of hearing the report of his gun.
Among the treasures sent on shore by the pirates was a small keg of tobacco. Dick had used it pretty freely for the first year or two, but latterly, finding that it must also come to an end, he put himself on an allowance, and only smoked a pipe occasionally when his day’s work was over, and he took his seat with Charley on the bench under the porch in front of their hut. Charley had asked one day why he should not smoke too.
“A very good thing for grown men like me,” answered Dick, “but very bad for little boys. When you have been at sea a dozen years or so, you may try if you like it. If it was to do you good I would share my last plug with you—you know that, Charley.”