The boys turned the boat over and examined the break.

“’Tis a bad place to mend,” observed David.

“But we can mend un,” declared Andy.  “We can mend un by noon whatever, and get to Fort Pelican this evenin’.”

“I’m doubtin’,” David shook his head. “’Twill take a day to mend un whatever, and she’ll be none too safe.  ’Twill be hard to make un water-tight.”

“We can mend un,” Andy insisted.

A close examination of the tracks disclosed the fact that there had undoubtedly been two men in the party.  They had reached the island before the rain of two days before.  This was disclosed by the fact that some of the tracks were partly washed away by the rain, and the earth was caked where the wind and sun had dried it afterwards.

Natives of the coast, as was the case with David and Jamie and Andy, wore home-made sealskin boots in summer and buckskin moccasins in winter.  The sealskin boots had moccasin feet with one thickness of skin, and were soft and pliable.  None of them ever wore soled boots that would admit of hobnails.  It was plain to the boys, therefore, that the men who made the tracks were not natives of the country.

Early in the summer a lumber company had begun the erection of a camp at Grampus River, which lay twenty miles to the southward from The Jug, and on the opposite side of Eskimo Bay.  A steamship had brought in men and supplies, and all summer men had been building camps and preparing for lumbering operations during the coming winter.

It was the first steamer to enter the Bay, and its advent had been an occasion of much curiosity on the part of the people.  Many of them made excursions to Grampus River to see the strangers at work.  Thomas had made such an excursion with David and Andy.  Strange, rough, blasphemous men they seemed to the God-fearing folk of the country.  These were the men wearing hobnailed boots of which David spoke, and there was small doubt in the mind of the boys that the men who had camped on the island and had stolen the boat were from the Grampus River lumber camp.

It proved a tedious undertaking to repair and make seaworthy the damaged boat.  The trees on the island were, for the most part, small gnarled spruce, twisted and stunted by the northern blasts which swept the Bay.  After some search, however, they discovered a white spruce tree suitable for their purpose, with a trunk ten inches in diameter.  David felled it and cut from its butt a two-foot length.  This he proceeded to split into as thin slabs as possible.  Then with their jack-knives the boys began the tedious task of whittling the surfaces of the slabs into smooth boards, first trimming them down to an inch and a half in thickness with the axes.

“How’ll we make un fast when we gets un done?” asked Jamie.  “We has no nails.”

“I’m thinkin’ of that,” said David.  “I’m not knowin’ yet, but we’ll find some way.”