southerly, he had decided to pass
to the west, and so they opened the sea about half a mile from the shore.

For about three miles they perceived it consisted of a line of bluffs,
cleft at intervals by small narrow bays, the precipitous sides of which
were lined with dense foliage. Into these fissures the sea entered with a
mournful sound, that died away as it crept up the yellow sands with which
these nooks were carpeted. An exclamation from Helen attracted his
attention to the horizon on the northwest, where a long line of breakers
glittered in the sun. A reef or low sandy bay appeared to exist in that
direction, about fifteen miles away, and something more than a mile in
length. As they proceeded, he marked roughly on the side of his tin
baler, with the point of a pin borrowed from Helen, the form of the coast
line.

An hour and a half brought them to the northwestern extremity of the
island. As they cleared the shelter of the land, the southerly breeze
coming with some force across the open sea caught the cutter, and she lay
over in a way to inspire Helen with alarm; she was about to let go the
tiller, when Hazel seized it, accidentally inclosing her hand under the
grasp of his own, as he pressed the tiller hard to port.

"Steady, please; don't relinquish your hold; it is all right--no fear,"
he cried, as he kept his eye on their sail.

He held this course for a mile or more, and then, judging with a long
tack he could weather the southerly side of the island he put the boat
about. He took occasion to explain to Helen how this operation was
necessary, and she learned the alphabet of navigation. The western end of
their little land now lay before them; it was about three miles in
breadth. For two miles the bluff coast line continued unbroken; then a
deep bay, a mile in width and two miles in depth, was made by a long
tongue of sand projecting westerly; on its extremity grew the gigantic
palm, well recognized as Helen's landmark. Hazel stood up in the boat to
reconnoiter the coast. He perceived the sandy shore was dotted with
multitudes of dark objects. Ere long, these objects were seen to be in
motion, and, pointing them out to Helen, with a smile, he said:

"Beware, Miss Rolleston, yonder are your bugbears--and in some force,
too. Those dark masses, moving upon the hillocks of sand, or rolling on
the surf, are sea-lions--the _phoca leonina,_ or lion-seal."

Helen strained her eyes to distinguish the forms, but