On his
way back to camp he discovered a few handfuls of sea salt in a
crevice between some rocks, and the syndicate breakfasted an hour
later on roast gooney. It was oily and fishy but an excellent
substitute for nothing at all, and the syndicate was grateful.
The breakfast would have been cheerful, in fact, if Captain
Scraggs had not made repeated reference to his excessive thirst.
McGuffey lost patience before the meal was over, and cuffed
Captain Scraggs, who thereupon subsided with tears in his eyes.
This hurt McGuffey. It was like salt in a fresh wound, so he
patted the skipper on the back and humbly asked his pardon.
Captain Scraggs forgave him and murmured something about death
making them all equal.
"The next business before the syndicate," announced Mr. Gibney,
anxious to preserve peace, "is a search of this island for
water."
They searched all forenoon. At intervals they caught glimpses of
the two cannibals skulking behind sand-dunes, but they found no
water. Toward the centre of the island, however, the soil was
less barren, and here a grove of cocoa-palms lifted their tufted
crests invitingly.
"We will camp in this grove," said the commodore, "and keep guard
over these green cocoanuts.
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