etting it go, and again giving way to slumber,
the effects of that drunken debauch kept up to a late hour. He would be
a poor sentinel were there need for vigilance.

Seemingly, there is none. No enemy is near--no human being in sight;
the only animate objects some seabirds, that, winging their way along
the face of the cliff, salute him with an occasional scream, as if
incensed by his presence in a spot they deem sacred to themselves.

The sun fairly up, he rises to his feet, and walks towards the entrance
of the larger cavern; then stopping in front of it, cries out:

"Inside there, shipmates! Sun's up--time to be stirring!"

Seeing him in motion, and hearing his hail, the gulls gather, and swoop
around his head in continuous screaming. In larger numbers, and with
cries more stridulent, as his comrades come forth out of the cave, one
after another--yawning, and stretching their arms.

The first, looking seaward, proposes to refresh himself by a plunge in
the surf; and for this purpose starts toward the beach. The others,
taken with the idea, follow in twos and threes, till in a string all are
_en route_ for the strand.

To reach this, it is necessary for them to pass through the gap in the
transverse ledge; which the tide, now at ebb, enables them to do.

He who leads, having gone through it, on getting a view of the shore
outside, suddenly stops; as he does so, sending back a shout. It is a
cry of surprise, followed by the startling announcement:

"The boat's gone!"

This should cause them apprehension; and would, if they but knew the
consequences. Ignorant of these, they make light of it, one saying:

"Let her go, and be damned! We want no boats now."

"A horse would be more to our purpose," suggests a second; "or, for that
matter, a dozen."

"A dozen donkeys would do," adds a third, accompanying his remark with a
horse-laugh. "It'll take about that many to pack our possibles."

"What's become of the old pinnace, anyhow?" asks one in sober strain;
as, having passed through the rock-portal, they stand scanning the
strand. All remember the place where they left the boat; and see it is
not there.

"Has any one made away with it?"

The question is asked, and instantly answered, several saying, no.
Striker, the man who first missed it, vouchsafes the explanation:

"The return tide's taken it out; an' I dar say, it's broke to bits on
them theer breakers."

They now remember it was not properl