eyes, even
the females began to treat him with indifference. It was as though the
whole herd were under the dominion of one brain that recognized him as
harmless and passed him along. He would pause now and then to look at
them with the admiration of strength for strength. He was of their type,
a bull man, rough from the sea as themselves.

Then he saw the caves and would have passed them only for something that
caught his eye. A red labelled Libby tin was lying on the dark sand
close to the mouth of one of the caves, and if you wish to know how an
old tomato tin or an old beef tin can shout, you must go alone to the
great beach of Kerguelen and find one there--which you will not.

The sight of the tin made him start and catch in his breath. The tin was
everything he knew of ships and men focussed in a point, a knight in
armour riding along the beach would have astonished him no more, would
have heated his blood far less.

He struck up towards it, took it in his hand, examined it inside and out
and then cast his eye at the cave before which it had lain. He saw
something in the cave, it was a woman; a woman lying on the sand with a
rolled-up blanket under her head. She was lying on her back and he saw a
thin white hand, so small, so thin, so strange that he drew slightly
back, glanced over his shoulder, as if to make sure that everything was
all right with the world, and then glanced again, drawing closer.

Then he called out and the woman moved. He could see her face now,
white, and thin and drawn, and great eyes, terrible eyes, fixed on him.

Away out at sea, terribly near the coast of Death she saw him, a living
being, as the castaway sees a ship on the far horizon.

He saw her hold out her arms to him and then, throwing his bundle aside,
he was down on his knees beside her, holding the hands that sought his
and with those terrible eyes holding him too.

He saw her lips moving, saw that they were dry and parched. Then he
knew. She wanted water.

An empty baling tin was lying near her. The sight of the river close by
was in his mind, he released the hands, picked up the tin and scrambled
out of the cave. As he ran to the river heedless of sea elephants or
anything else he kept crying out: "Oh, the poor woman. Oh, the poor
woman." He seemed like a huge thing demented. The baby sea elephants
scuttered out of his way and as he came running back he spilt half the
contents of the tin. Then he was down beside her aga