. "The bosom o' yore pants
is showing conside'ble wear an' tear." Gregg whirled to face him, but
before he could utter a word, Kayak, now master of himself once more,
drawled on: "It never rains but it pours, I reckon. I plumb forgot to
tell you, Gregg, that just a-fore you drug me up here this afternoon,
me and Boreland was a-mouchin round just south of Skeleton Rib and
durned if we didn't come across the old whaleboat, high and dry with
celery bushes a-growin' up around her. She's stove in some, but we can
fix her--and I reckon we'll be settin' sail for the mainland in a
couple o' weeks!"

CHAPTER XXX

THE PIGEON'S FLIGHT

Wonderful as it was, the discovery of the gold took second place with
the finding of the whaleboat. Gold had no more value than sand on Kon
Klayu, unless the adventurers were rescued, and the whaleboat meant at
least a chance of rescue, provided it could be made tight enough to
float. It is true that with summer coming on there would be an
abundance of eggs, sea-parrots and later on berries, for already the
north end of the Island was white with strawberry blossoms--but flour
and coffee were now all that remained of the supplies, and the flour
was low in the barrel. Help must come before another winter set in.

Ellen, in her first joy over the discovery of the whaleboat, had joined
eagerly in the plans which the three men discussed at the cabin. She
saw herself freed at last from the terrible necessity of summoning Paul
Kilbuck. The pigeon could fly--she had tested it. In another week she
would have sent it with the message that meant life to her family, but
death to her own peace and happiness. But now--in her relief the last
vestige of her illness fell from her. She felt strong again, ready to
take up her work about the cabin. She found herself, for the first
time, able to look normally on the smoke-grey creature, seeing it as a
bird, and not as a hated, yet horribly cherished representative of the
White Chief of Katleean.

It was slow work putting the old and battered whaleboat in repair.
Ellen had not seen the craft since its recovery, but Shane had told her
that every seam needed recalking. There was no oakum for the purpose,
so she tore up some garments that neither she nor Jean could spare. He
spoke casually of a cracked plank or two that would be strengthened by
tacking pieces of canvas and tin both inside and out.

After several days Ellen noticed that Harlan and