At length I came upon one--a flake of felspar of a dull cream-color--hollowed enough on one side to hold a pint or upwards.

But it was heavy: must have weighed fully a hundred pounds.

I called to Weymouth: he was out of hearing.

Nothing to do but carry it.
So, after some mustering of my spare muscle, I picked it up, and, going along to a favorable spot, succeeded in getting down to the beach with it, whence I toiled along to our camp-fire.

Weymouth had got there a little ahead of me with a flat stone worn smooth by the waves.