Each scrambled about actively, searching with care among the
crevices of the rocks, and from time to time picking up articles
which they thrust into their pockets or laid on their shoulders,
according as weight and dimensions required.

In a short time they returned to their boat pretty well laden.

"Weel, lad, what luck?" enquired Spink, as Swankie and he met--the
former with a grappling iron on his shoulder, the latter staggering
under the weight of a mass of metal.

"Not much," replied Swankie; "nothin' but heavy metal this mornin',
only a bit of a cookin' stove an' a cannon shot--that's all."

"Never mind, try again. There must ha' bin two or three wrecks on the
rock this gale," said Davy, as he and his friend threw their burdens
into the boat, and hastened to resume the search.

At first Spink was the more successful of the two. He returned to the
boat with various articles more than once, while his comrade
continued his rambles unsuccessfully. At last, however, Big Swankie
came to a gully or inlet where a large mass of the _débris_ of a
wreck was piled up in indescribable confusion, in the midst of which
lay the dead body of an old man. Swankie's first impulse was to shout
to his companion, but he checked himself, and proceeded to examine
the pockets of the dead man.

Raising the corpse with some difficulty he placed it on the ledge of
rock. Observing a ring on the little finger of the right hand, he
removed it and put it hastily in his pocket. Then he drew a red