"You had grit," said Jamie. "You has plenty o' grit, Davy--and a stout
heart, like a man. 'Twere wonderful how you cracked her through!
There's nary a man on the coast could have done better'n that!"

"'Twere easy enough," David boasted with a laugh as he wiped the spray
from his face, and unshipping the rudder proceeded to scull the boat
into a natural berth between the rocks.

Hardly a breath of the gale raging outside reached them in their snug
little harbour. The boat was made fast with the painter to a ledge,
and the boys climed to the high rocky shore.

An excellent camping place was discovered a hundred yards back in a
grove of stunted spruce trees that had rooted themselves in the scant
soil that covered the rocks, and held fast, despite the Arctic blasts
that swept across the Bay to rake the island during the long winters.
Here the tent was pitched, and everything carried up from the boat and
stowed within to dry. Fifteen minutes later the tent stove was
crackling cheerily and sending forth comfort to the drenched young
mariners. "There'll be no hurry in the marnin'," said David when they
had eaten supper and lighted a candle. "We'll stay up to-night till we
gets the outfit all dried, and if we're late about un we'll sleep a
bit later in the marnin', to make up. We'll make Fort Pelican in an
hour, or two hours _what_ever, if we has a civil breeze in the
marnin'."

"We'll not be gettin' away from Fort Pelican to-morrow, will we?"
asked Andy.