Then rowing ashore in his skiff, he selected a secluded spot upon the island, and dug a grave.
In the rocky soil the grave was necessarily a shallow one, and he had finished his task when Mrs.Abel reappeared from the tent to announce that the boy was sleeping and seemed much better after eating.

Then while they sat upon the rocks and ate their own belated dinner of boiled cod and tea, Abel told the story of his discovery.
"What do you suppose killed the man ?" Mrs.Abel asked.
"I do not know," said Abel.

"It looks like a gunshot wound but I have not searched for a gun yet.

It is a fine boat, and did not belong to a schooner.

I never saw a boat like it and I never saw so fine a boat before.