Chapter 8 - Page 2

there to decay. Nor did
Betts neglect the sea-weed the while. On several occasions he floated
large bodies of it in, from the outer reefs, which were all safely
landed and wheeled into the crater, where a long pile of it was formed,
mingled with loam from Loam Island, and guano. This work, however,
gradually ceased, as the season advanced, and summer came in earnest.
That season, however, did not prove by any means as formidable as Mark
had anticipated, the sea-breezes keeping the place cool and refreshed.
Our mariners now missed the rain, which was by no means as frequent a it
had been, though it fell in larger quantities when it did come. The
stock had to be watered for several weeks, the power of the sun causing
all the water that lodged it the cavities of the rocks to evaporate
almost immediately.

During the time it was too warm to venture out in the dingui, except for
half an hour of a morning, or for as long a period of an evening, Mark
turned his attention to the ship again. Seizing suitable moments, each
sail was loosened, thoroughly dried, unbent, and got below. An awning
was got out, and spread, and the decks were wet down, morning and
evening, both for the purposes of cleanliness, and to keep them from
cheeking. The hold was now entered, and overhauled, for the first time
since the accident. A great many useful things were found in it, and
among other articles two barrels of good sharp vinegar, which Friend
Abraham White had caused to be put on board to be used with anything
that could be pickled, as an anti-scorbutic. The onions and cucumbers
both promising so well, Mark rejoiced at this discovery, determining at
once to use some of the vinegar on a part of his expected crop of those
two vegetables.

One day as Bob was rummaging about in the hold, and Mark was looking on,
that being the coolest place on the whole reef, the former got hold of a
piece of wood, and began to tug at it to draw it out from among a pile
that lay in a dark corner. After several efforts, the stick came, when
Mark, struck with a glimpse he got of its form, bade Bob bring it under
the light of the hatchway. The instant he got a good look at it,
Woolston knew that Bob's 'foolish, crooked stick, which was fit to stow
nowhere,' as the honest fellow had described it when it gave him so much
trouble, was neither more nor less than one of the ribs of a boat of
larger size than common.

"This is providential, truly!" exclaimed Mark. "Your crooked stick, Bob,
is a part of the frame of the pinnace of which you spoke, and which we
had given up, as a thing not to be found on board!"

"You're right, Mr. Mark, you're right!" answered Bob--"and I most have
been oncommon stupid not