King o' the Beach Part 10

s.h.i.+pwrecked folk don't generally have plenty of tools and things. I say, doctor, shall I be fit to go with you the first time you go ash.o.r.e?"

"Would you like to?"

"Like to! Oh, I say," cried the boy; "fancy being left here alone in the s.h.i.+p when you two go. I say, don't leave me; it would make me worse."

"Wait a bit, and we'll see. The raft is not ready yet. Bostock has not fitted the mast and sail."

"No," said Carey, thoughtfully. "I say, isn't he dreadfully slow?"

The doctor laughed.

"Well, I was thinking something of the kind, certainly, my boy."

Carey was silent and thoughtful for a few minutes, and then he began again.

"It's very beautiful lying back here," he said at last, "and sometimes I feel as if I should like to do nothing else for a month to come. Then I get hot and fidgety and tired of it all. Yes, he is horribly slow.

I've watched him, and instead of knocking a nail right in at once he gets boring holes and measuring and trying first one and then another till he gets one to suit him. It makes me feel sometimes as if I should like to throw books at him. I'll tell him to make haste and finish."

"Better not, perhaps," said the doctor, quietly, as he busied himself trying to catch some of the floating jelly-fish over the side with a rope and bucket. "You may hurt his feelings."

No more was said on the subject then, for there was enough to interest the patient in examining with a magnifying gla.s.s the curious creatures captured; but Carey had not forgotten, and that evening when the doctor was below and Bostock had brought up the bag of tools he used to work upon the clumsy-looking raft he was building, the boy lay back watching him chewing away at a piece of tobacco, and bending thoughtfully over the structure.

"I say," cried Carey at last in a peevish tone, "when are you going to finish that raft?"

"Finish it, my lad?"

"Yes, finish it. How many more days are you going to be?"

Bostock screwed up his face, rose erect in a very slow and deliberate way, laid down the auger he held, and took off his cap to scratch his head.

"Finish it?" he said, thoughtfully. "Well, I don't quite know; you see, I must make it reg'lar strong."

"Of course," cried Carey, "but you spend so much time thinking about it."

"Well, yes, my lad, I do, certainly; but then, you see, I have to do the thinking and making too. There's on'y me, you see."

"Why didn't you let the doctor help you? He did want to."

"Ye-es, he did want to, my lad," said the old sailor, in the slowest and most provoking way. "He's a wonderful clever man too, is the doctor.

See what a beautiful job he's making of your broken timbers; but what does he know about making a raft? This is my job, and bime-by it'll be my job to make a boat, which'll want more thinking about than even this."

"Pooh! I could have made it in half the time."

"Ah, you think so, my lad, just the same as I might think I could ha'

mended your broken colly bone. But I couldn't, and I wouldn't offer to, and of course I don't want the doctor to meddle with my work."

"It's horrible to watch you," said Carey, pettishly. "I get sick of seeing you."

"Do you, now?" said Bostock, smiling; but he shook his head. "Not you, my lad; you only say so. You're getting better; that's what's the matter with you."

"Pis.h.!.+" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the boy, contemptuously. "There, drive in a few more nails to make all fast, and then it'll be done."

"Done, sir? Not it," said the old man, walking slowly round the c.u.mbrous construction. "I've been thinking that I shall put in two more casks, one on each side."

"What!" cried Carey, angrily. "Why, that'll take you another fortnight."

"Nay, nay," said the old sailor, coolly; "not a fortnight; say a week or ten days."

"And it will make it heavier too. I don't believe you can launch it as it is."

"Not launch it?" said Bostock, tapping the casks at the four angles, one after another, with the handle of the auger, and being apparently so well satisfied with the drum-like tones that he worked round once more.

"Oh, yes, I can get her launched easy enough with a rope through a block and the stern capstan. There won't be no trouble about that."

"Finish it off then, and never mind putting two more casks in."

"Look ye here, my lad," said the old fellow, solemnly, "do you suppose I want that there raft to capsize and shoot us off among the sharkses?"

"Of course not. Seen any of them, Bob?"

"Lots, my lad. They come swimming round this morning as if looking out for bits for breakfast. Why, if that raft capsized they'd chew us up like reddishes. I'm not going to risk that, my lad. I've got a character to lose, you see. I'm making this raft, and I want it to be a raft as you and the doctor'll be proud on--a raft as we can row or sail or go fis.h.i.+ng with."

"Yes, fis.h.i.+ng," said Carey, eagerly. "When am I to have that line and try for something?"

"Oh, we'll see about that," said the old sailor, coolly. "Let's get the raft done first."

"Get the raft done first!" cried Carey, angrily. "You'll never get it done."

"Oh, yes, I will, my lad; and it'll be one you could dance on if you liked. Don't you be in such a precious hurry."

"Precious hurry, indeed. Do you know what it means to be sitting here and hardly allowed to move day after day?"

"Course I do, my lad. I see you."

"But you don't know how horribly tiresome it is," cried Carey, who was growing more and more exasperated. "Look here, haven't you promised me time after time that you'd have a fis.h.i.+ng-line ready for me so that I could hold it when the tide came in and get a few fish?"

"To be sure I did," said Bostock, coolly.

"Then why don't you do it?"

"Look ye here, my lad, you are getting better, you know, and that's what makes you so rusty."

"Anyone would get rusty, doing nothing day after day. Now then, Bob, I'll stand no more nonsense. You get the fis.h.i.+ng-line directly. Do you hear?"

"Oh, yes, my lad, I hear. You spoke loud enough."

"Then why don't you go and get one?"

"'Cause I'm busy making a raft."