Having satisfied our curiosity and enjoyed ourselves during the
whole day, in our little boat, we returned, somewhat wearied, and,
withal, rather hungry, to our bower.

"Now," said Jack, "as our boat answers so well, we will get a mast
and sail made immediately."

"So we will," cried Peterkin, as we all assisted to drag the boat
above high-water mark; "we'll light our candle and set about it
this very night. Hurrah, my boys, pull away!"

As we dragged our boat, we observed that she grated heavily on her
keel; and, as the sands were in this place mingled with broken
coral rocks, we saw portions of the wood being scraped off.

"Hallo!" cried Jack, on seeing this. "That won't do. Our keel
will be worn off in no time at this rate."

"So it will," said I, pondering deeply as to how this might be
prevented. But I am not of a mechanical turn, naturally, so I
could conceive no remedy save that of putting a plate of iron on
the keel, but as we had no iron I knew not what was to be done.
"It seems to me, Jack," I added, "that it is impossible to prevent
the keel being worn off thus."

"Impossible!" cried Peterkin, "my dear Ralph, you are mistaken,
there is nothing so easy - "

"How?" I inquired, in some surprise.