We scooped out a shallow hole above tide-mark, and laid him in it, and piled over him stones from the wash.
Then we went back to the beach, very solemn, to talk it over.
"Now, boys," said I, "there seems to me just one thing to do, and that is to pike out for water as fast as we can." "Where ?" asked Denton.
"Well," I argued, "I don't believe there's any water about this bay.
Maybe there was when that chart was made.

It was a long time ago.

And any way, the old pirate was a sailor, and no plainsman, and maybe he mistook rainwater for a spring.

We've looked around this end of the bay.

The chances are we'd use up two or three days exploring around the other, and then wouldn't be as well off as we are right now." "Which way ?" asked Denton again, mighty brief.
"Well," said I, "there's one thing I've always noticed in case of folks held up by the desert: they generally go wandering about here and there looking for water until they die not far from where they got lost.