be some way out of this accursed pit in which I had fallen. So
very cautiously I edged out, taking advantage of all the cover possible
until we were only twenty yards apart, and then suddenly standing up,
and putting on the most affable smile, I called out--

"Hullo, mess-mate!"

The effect was electrical. That quaint old fellow sprang a yard into
air as though a spring had shot him up. Then, coming down, he stood
transfixed at his full height as stiff as a ramrod, staring at me with
incredible wonder. He looked so funny that in spite of hunger and
loneliness I burst out laughing, whereat the woodman, suddenly
recovering his senses, turned on his heels and set off at his best pace
in the opposite direction. This would never do! I wanted him to be my
guide, philosopher, and friend. He was my sole visible link with the
outside world, so after him I went at tip-top speed, and catching him
up in fifty yards along the shingle laid hold of his nether garments.
Whereat the old fellow stopping suddenly I shot clean over his back,
coming down on my shoulder in the gravel.

But I was much younger than he, and in a minute was in chase again.
This time I laid hold of his cloak, and the moment he felt my grip he
slipped the neck-thongs and left me with only the mangy garment in my
hands. Again we set off, dodging and scampering with all our might
upon that frozen bit of beach. The activity of that old fellow was
marvellous, but I could not and would not lose him. I made a rush and
grappled him, but he tossed his head round and slipped away once more
under my arm, as though he had been brought up by a Chinese wrestler.
Then he got on one side of a flat rock, I the other, and for three or
four minutes we waltzed round that slab in the most insane manner.

But by this time we were both pretty well spent--he with age and I with
faintness from my long fast, and we came presently to a standstill.

After glaring at me for a time, the woodman gasped out as he struggled
for breath--

"Oh, mighty and dreadful spirit! Oh, dweller in primordial ice, say
from which niche of the cliffs has the breath of chance thawed you?"

"Never a niche at all, Mr. Hunter-for-Haddocks'-Eyes," I answered as
soon as I could speak. "I am just a castaway wrecked last night on
this shore of yours, and very grateful indeed will I be if you can show
me the way to some breakfast first, and afterwards to the outside
world."

But the old fellow wou