covered over
about half its surface with barnacles and sea-weed. It was not heavy,
and would have floated higher out of the water had it not been for
these encumbrances.

"It's some kind of preserved meat," said the doctor. "Perhaps
something good--game, I dare say--yes, Yorkshire game-pie. They pot
all sorts of things now."

"If it's game," said Oxenden, "it'll be rather high by this time. Man
alive! look at those weeds and shells. It must have been floating for
ages."

"It's my belief," said Featherstone, "that it's part of the provisions
laid in by Noah for his long voyage in the ark. So come, let's open
it, and see what sort of diet the antediluvians had."

"It may be liquor," said Oxenden.

Melick shook his head.

"No," said he; "there's something inside, but whatever it is, it isn't
liquor. It's odd, too. The thing is of foreign make, evidently. I
never saw anything like it before. It may be Chinese."

"By Jove!" cried Featherstone, "this is getting exciting. Let's go
back to the yacht and open it."

The men rowed back to the yacht.

"It's meat of some sort," continued the doctor. "I'm certain of that.
It has come in good time. We can have it for dinner."

"You may have my share, then," said Oxenden. "I hereby give and
bequeath to you all my right, title, and interest in and to anything
in the shape of meat that may be inside."

"Meat cans," said Melick, "are never so large as that."

"Oh, I don't know about that," said the doctor, "they make up pretty
large packages of pemmican for the arctic expeditions."

"But they never pack up pemmican in copper cylinders," said Melick,
who had been using his knife to scrape off the crust from the vessel.

"Copper!" exclaimed Oxenden. "Is it copper?"

"Look for yourselves," said Melick, quietly.

They all looked, and could see, where the knife had cut into the
vessel, that it was as he said. It was copper.

"It's foreign work," said Melick. "In England we make tin cans for
everything. It may be something that's drifted out from Mogadore or
some port in Morocco."

"In that case," said Oxenden, "it may contain the mangled remains of
one of the wives of some Moorish pasha."

By this time they had reached the yacht and hurried aboard. All were
eager to satisfy their curiosity. Search was made for a cold-chisel,
but to no purpose. Then Featherstone produced a knife which was used
to open sardine boxes, but after a faithful trial this proved useless.
At le