im under, and
it was only by virtue of a desperate clutch on the raft that he
escaped drowning. Thrashing furiously, he struggled up from the water,
and lay, totally blown, on the logs. It was then he first realized
that his chance of life was no stronger than the rope which held them
together. For swimming was out of the question, and one or two logs
would never support his hundred and eighty pounds.

The end which he lay on was well under water, and the waves splashed
up between the bobbing logs. The current he was headed for swept down
fifty yards offshore, which was a sixth of a mile to the little legs
now thrust out behind and making a rhythmic flutter.

He was off the island! Freedom and life were near! Though his teeth
were chattering, his fingers crushed by the jarring logs, and his body
utterly wretched, he grinned with joy as the stretch between him and
the gloomy mass of the island slowly widened.

* * * * *

Then came the sun. The skies faded from gray into a delicate,
cloud-flecked blue; slowly the air warmed, and the surface of the
water seemed to calm under it. Though the sun was good on his body,
Garth realized night was more friendly to him, for in the growing
light his craft was all too conspicuous to the giant who would
presently be following his tracks down to the beach. He chided himself
for not having thought of camouflaging the raft with leafy branches.
Doggedly, he forced it out.

When at last he felt the pull of the current, he ceased his weary
kicking and glanced up into the swiftly advancing dawn. There was a
bird soaring through the keen air up there, gliding in easy circles
with almost motionless wings. Garth gazed at it somewhat wistfully,
envying its freedom and power of flight. And then he shut his eyes. He
was very tired....

He must have dozed off for a moment, for he awoke to find himself
slipping off. With a sudden jerk he regained his position--and that
was what saved his life at that moment. For without warning, while he
was nodding, plumed death struck from the skies.

It dropped like a plummet, as was its manner. It had been circling
above and judging its swoop, and by rights its curved talons should
have arched deep into the unguarded back of the naked figure on the
raft. But at the last second the figure moved aside--too late for the
hawk to alter its swoop.

The raft rocked under the impact; for a moment Garth Howard, dazed by
the sudde