Here the camp was pitched, and
a tent run up with the oars, sails, and mast. And here
Amalu, at no man's bidding, from the mere instinct of
habitual service, built a fire and cooked a meal.
Night was come, and the stars and the silver sickle of
new moon beamed overhead, before the meal was ready.
The cold sea shone about them, and the fire glowed in
their faces as they ate. Tommy had opened his case,
and the brown sherry went the round; but it was long
before they came to conversation.
"Well, is it to be Kauai, after all?" asked Mac
suddenly.
"This is bad enough for me," said Tommy. "Let's stick
it out where we are."
"Well, I can tell ye one thing," said Mac, "if ye care
to hear it: when I was in the China mail we once made
this island. It's in the course from Honolulu."
"Deuce it is!" cried Carthew. "That settles it, then.
Let's stay. We must keep good fires going; and there's
plenty wreck."
"Lashings of wreck!" said the Irishman. "There's
nothing here but wreck and coffin-boards."
"But we'll have to make a proper blyze," objected
Hemstead.
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