But the captain had more important things with which to bother his brains than the fanciful laying out of corner lots on the comparatively level bluff overlooking Otter Creek. He saw to the reverent burial of poor Pietro Gama, entered full details of the fight in the ship’s log, and helped Walker to search the suspected coal for a further supply of dynamite, as the utility of the surface mines had been demonstrated beyond a doubt. He thought it possible, given the necessary time, to rig a device which would be practically invisible. A fresh set of dummy poles, which the Indians would probably avoid in the event of a second attack, might deflect the canoes into the area of new mines laid at sea level. Their utmost diligence brought to light no further supply of the explosive. Evidently, the prepared lumps of coal, each containing a stick of dynamite, which were placed among the bunker at Valparaiso, had been conveyed on board by one man, so it was more than likely there was not another ounce of the stuff on the ship except the three specimens first discovered. These, water-soaked and useless, were locked in a drawer in the chart-house. While scrutinizing the bunker, Courtenay found a grimy piece of paper, crushed into a ball and amalgamated with coaldust by means of the glue, or other substance, which had been used for making the bombs intended for the destruction of the furnaces. He examined it carefully, believing it had the appearance and texture of cartridge paper. He placed it in his pocket, and, while changing his clothes before joining the others at supper, came on it again with a certain surprise. He plunged it into a basin of hot water, and it yielded its secret. It was the outer wrapper of a stick of dynamite; it bore the circular stamp of the manufacturers, the “Sociedad Anonyma de las Costas del Pacifico.” This, in itself, meant nothing. The same company probably supplied hundreds of mines with the five-pound boxes in which dynamite is packed, and, if the stamp were the only clue, none could possibly say when or where it had been issued for use. But miners are apt to be careless; men accustomed to dynamite will handle it with an astounding disregard for danger. And here was a case in point. Some Spanish overseer, evidently at a loss for a memorandum tablet, had scribbled hieroglyphics with an indelible pencil on this particular wrapper. It was clear that the figures and abbreviated words referred to the development of a cross-heading and the position of certain lodes, but Courtenay was quick to see that the official who made those notes would recognize them. Hence, the mine or store from which the package had been stolen or bought could be identified. Such evidence was of high circumstantial value. Courtenay put the wrapper in the same drawer as the cartridges, entered in the log the time and manner of its discovery, and forthwith dismissed it from his mind.