'Twas the skipper's fancy to give him a land burial.

But that doesn't matter a dump--it's outside the story." He turned his eyes away from Charles.
Dusk had fallen before they finished their search, and Thalassa would not undertake the risk of threading the boat out from the tortuous reef passage in the darkness.

They decided to camp on the island for the night, preferring the sulphur-impregnated air ("A lighted match would blaze and fizzle in it like a torch," Thalassa declared) to the cramped discomfort of their little craft.

They brought some food ashore, and made a flimsy sort of camp above high water, at the foot of the encircling walls of the crater.

There they had their supper, and there, as they lounged smoking, Remington in an evil moment for himself suggested that they should sort the diamonds into three heaps--share and share alike.