Free Island of the Lost by Joan Druett Page A

collected all the tiny nails that had held the copper to the hull. This was a fiddly job that dragged out the work but was essential because the tacks were necessary for pinning the copper sheets to the chimney framework.
    Four poles had been fastened to the walls of the fireplace, leaning toward each other to form a broad pyramid that was open at the top. Crosspieces were bound to these rods, and the sheets of copper were nailed first to the inside of this truncated pyramid, and then on the outside, to make a double lining. With that, the fireplace was finished, and the men could look forward to roaring fires in the winter ahead. However, it was lucky that winter lay many weeks in the future, because the framework of the cabin was still open to the weather.

    B ECAUSE C APTAIN M USGRAVE did not have Raynal’s engineering skills, he took on the responsibility of keeping the pantry replenished, occasionally taking the taciturn Norwegian, Alick, with him to help. Someone always had to venture out with a cudgel—or the gun, if there was any hope of varying the menu with poultry, widgeon being preferred. He and Alick tried fishing off the beach, but did not have much success, because they were competing with the sea lions in the sea lions’ natural fishing ground. They had better luck in the creek that was their source of drinking and washing water, finding a small species that “resembled trout and were delicious eating,” according to Musgrave, “but were very small, the largest weighing scarcely a quarter of a pound.” This was
Galaxias brevipinnis
, a fish native to New Zealand and known to the Maori as
koaro
, an ancient species with just one dorsal fin and no scales, which is very agile, starting life in the sea, like salmon, and then in early adulthood leaping up rushing streams to reach the rocky pools where they breed.
    About this time, too, Musgrave took up a habit of going off on long excursions, taking a cudgel and trekking for long distances on foot, sometimes with Alick, but often alone. This is a common phenomenon when people are stranded in desolate, remote places, exhibited by members of scientific discovery parties as well as shipwrecked seamen. Obsessive behavior is characteristic, too, and in Musgrave it took the form of a preoccupation with charts and barometer readings. He carried surveying tools with him, and made charts as he went, determined to map the harbor and the surrounding territory to the best of his ability; not only was it reassuring to have a picture of the terrain in his mind, but his journal and charts would be of useto future travelers, even if rescue came too late to save him and his companions. He and Raynal had already made a grim pact that if they died before anyone came, they would be buried with their journals, so that the records they kept would be uncovered when their bodies were eventually disinterred.
    On Sunday morning, January 24, Musgrave was alone when he set out to climb the mountain to the northeast of the camp, as Alick was sick, and Raynal was still not well enough to trudge long distances. To his surprise, there were many signs of sea lions—“In going up I found seal tracks nearly to the top of the mountain, which I reckon is about four miles from the water; and about three miles up I saw a seal.”
    After reaching the summit he stood a long time, contemplating precipitous mountains stretching to the north and east, covered with long, coarse, dun-colored grass and the occasional patch of stunted scrub, and with a multitude of waterfalls dashing down granite ravines. It was a daunting landscape, far from the touch of man. He could hear a muffled boom every now and then as a large breaker thudded against the tall cliffs to the west. To the north and east of the island group a tumbled ocean extended as far as his eye could reach, unmarked by a single sail. With his head bent dejectedly, battling a fit of black depression, Musgrave turned