er but little, only that for a
moment I lay bruised and battered at the foot of a high rock.

Once more Jose's advice sounded in my ear, and loosing my spar, I
clambered, dizzy and half blind, to the top. The ramping white horses
raced after as if to drag me back, but finding that impossible, retired
sullenly to spring yet once again. Shrieking and hissing, the great
white monsters tore along, dashing in fury and breaking in impotence
against the immovable rocks. The wild, weird scene, too, frightened
me; for I was but a boy, remember, who up to this had never met with a
more stirring adventure, perhaps, than a tussle with a high-spirited
pony. I was worn out, too, by hard toil, faint from loss of blood,
saddened by the loss of my faithful Jose, and by the awful calamity
that had overtaken the crew of the schooner. Yet, in spite of all, so
strong was the instinct to live, that, almost without thought, I
clambered along the rocky ridge which jutted out from the mainland,
while the baffled waves raced hungrily on either side of me, as if even
now loath to abandon their expected prey.

At length the line of white foam was at my back. I found myself on a
boulder-strewn beach, and for the time safe! Although half dead with
privation and exposure, I wandered some way along the beach, calling
aloud on Jose and the sailors, forgetful that the roar of the surf
drowned my voice.

Presently I could go no further, the beach in that direction being
walled in by a rocky cliff, steep and high, and but for a narrow
fissure upon which I happily came, insurmountable.

I say happily, for at the summit of the cliff I fancied I saw the flash
of a lantern. A lantern meant human beings, who on hearing my story
would search the shore, and find, perhaps, that others besides myself
had escaped from the wreck. With this idea in my head, I began to
climb, going very steadily; for, as I have said, the track was little
more than a fissure in the rock, and my head was far from clear. I
toiled on, cutting my hands and legs with the jagged rocks, but making
some progress, till at length I had covered the greater part of the
distance; then I could do no more. A tiny crevice gave me foothold,
and I was able to rest my arms on a wide ledge, but had no strength to
draw myself up to it. Twice I tried and failed; then fearful lest my
strength should give way, I strove no more, but, raising my voice,
shouted loudly for help. Very mournful the