unpacking and exposing the things to dry in the sun was
accomplished, it was long past noon, and high time for dinner; so a fire
was lighted by Bryan, who cut up another portion of Frank's canoe for
the purpose. A rasher of pork and a flour cake were disposed of by each
of the party in a surprisingly short time, and then the men bestirred
themselves in mending the canoes. This was a more troublesome job than
they expected, but being accustomed not only to mend but to make canoes,
they worked with a degree of skill and diligence that speedily put all
to rights. In Massan's canoe there was a hole large enough, as Bryan
remarked, to stick his head through, though it was a "big wan, an' no
mistake." Taking up a roll of bark, which was carried with them for the
purpose, Massan cut from it a square patch, which he _sewed_ over the
hole, using an awl for a needle and the fibrous roots of the pine tree,
called wattape, for thread. After it was firmly sewed on, the seams
were covered with melted gum, and the broken spot was as tight and
strong as ever. There were next found several long slits, one of them
fully three feet, which were more easily managed, as they merely
required to be sewed and covered with gum. Several broken ribs,
however, were not so easily repaired. Had there been any wood on the
island, Massan's quick knife would have soon fashioned new ribs; as it
was, he had to make the best job he could, by splicing the old ones with
several pieces abstracted from Frank's little canoe.

It was sunset before all was put in complete order, the goods repacked,
and placed in readiness for a start at daybreak on the following
morning. After all was done, the remains of the small canoe were
converted into a bonfire, round which the tired and hungry travellers
assembled to smoke and chat, while supper was being prepared by the
indefatigable Bryan and his friend La Roche. As the day faded away the
stars came out, one by one, until they glittered in millions in the sky,
while the glare of the fire became every moment more and more intense as
the darkness deepened. It was a strange, wild scene,--especially when
viewed from the extremity of the little sand-bank, which was so low as
to be almost indiscernible in the dark night, and seemed scarce a
sufficient foundation for the little busy group of human beings who
stood radiant in the red light of their camp-fire, like a blazing gem
cast upon the surface of the great, cold