Two Sailor Lads by Gordon Stables

Gone the _Resolute_ most assuredly was. Hardly a timber of the old craft was left together, only a portion of the hull and some dark skeleton ribs pointing skywards through the white chaos of surf that boiled and swirled around them.

And the beach on both sides was strewed with wreckage.

"Frank," said Fred that same morning:

"I had a dream, a happy dream, / I dreamt that I was free; / That in a boat that we had built / We sailed across the sea."

"Bravo! " cried Frank, "I didn't know you were a born poet. Pass the sardines and the pickles, like a good boy. Fancy eating sardines in this world again. But, I say, you know, touching that dream, it is a real jolly one, and as soon as I've time I'll think it out Why shouldn't we, now that we have tools, commence to build a ship?"

"I don't see why we shouldn't really. But mind you it isn't quite such a simple business as you may imagine. She would require to be a biggish boat, you know, and there are two difficulties to be thought out at the very commencement.

"First and foremost, Fred, if we are going to build her close to the beach, we may reckon on getting our work all destroyed in the first gale of wind that blows; secondly, if we build her a safe distance from the sea, how are we to launch her?"

So no more was said about building a ship just then, but, nevertheless, the idea had taken root in the minds of all hands, and even Hurricane Bob pretended to look very wise when Cassia-bud broached the subject to him.

It took our castaways three whole days to get their stores round to the place where the camp was, as they were mostly all removed by sea. But the planks of the wreck that they thought might one day come in handy were dragged off the beach, and piled in a heap far beyond the reach of the water.

While engaged at this work they suddenly came face to face with those awful brothers in death, the ironed skeletons. They were sitting on the beach, having evidently been floated out of the wreck on a piece of the deck. Sitting there bolt upright, their sightless eye-sockets turned towards the sea, the arm of one of them slightly raised, the fleshless fingers pointing towards the distant horizon.

"Why this is awful! " said Frank.

"Yes," said Fred, "and it seems to me those spectres will haunt us unless we bury them out of sight."

It was determined to do so at once therefore, and Magilvray and Fred set about digging a grave high up on the beach.

"Poor wretches," said Frank. "Suppose, Fred, we read the English burial service over them. They had sinned, but oh, they have suffered! Shall we?"

"You're a right good fellow, Frank. Yes."

Among the books brought on shore was a church service, and Frank, being more English than Fred, in a solemn voice read the service. The bodies were then lowered into the grave and covered up.

Some weeks after this they raised a cross above the spot where they lay, and carved the names of the unfortunate sailors on it.

"Those wretches may have had friends and relations in America, who may be even now waiting and waiting, and hoping and hoping, for their return. Who knows?"

That is what Fred said, as in company with his friend he left the lonesome grave to return to camp.

For two months after the destruction of the derelict the weather continued unsettled and heavy. A deal of rain fell occasionally, and there were at times storms of wind that appeared to shake the island to its very foundations.