“It looks as if we could come alongside that rock,” she said, “but we won’t try to beach her. Captain John said we were to be careful about landing. So look out.”
There was just a little bump as the Swallow touched the rock, but it was not a bad one. The able-seaman scrambled out with the painter, and held the gunwale, while the boy followed.
“Shall I bring the compass?” he said.
“No,” said the able-seaman, “we’ll leave it in the ship until we need it. But bring the pickaxe and pass out the stores. Better leave the bottle.”
The boy gave the packets of sandwiches to the able-seaman. Then he gave her the hammer and scrambled out.
“Now we’ll fasten the painter round that rock, just the end of it. What wind there is is from the south, and she’ll float off without touching anything. We’ll leave the stores on the rock.”
It was done, and for some minutes the able-seaman stood watching her ship, which rode quietly at the end of the long painter, clear of all danger.
“She’s all right like that,” she said at last. “Now for the treasure.”
It was very hard going on those rocks, as everybody had found, even Captain Flint, when they had all come here to look for the stolen trunk, the day before the battle in Houseboat Bay. For the boy and the able-seaman it was very hard indeed. The rocks stuck up at all angles. There were deep clefts between them, big enough to take a foot and small enough to make it difficult to get the foot out again. Then there were lots of loose stones which slipped all ways when you trod on them. It took the treasure-hunters a long time even to get from one end of the island to the other.