discover if Mr Henley's boat was returning, or if any other boat
or a raft might have escaped from the burning ship. In vain we cast our
eyes on every side; a thick mist, caused by the driving spray, hung over
the ocean, and had any floating thing been on it, would have completely
hid it from our sight. Sad, indeed, we felt as we two stood on that
high solitary peak rising up amid the Indian Ocean.

"I am afraid that they are all gone in," said Tommy after a long
silence.

"I do not despair, Tom," I answered. "A raft would take a long time
driving from where the ship was burned to the island. We will wait and
see what happens. Perhaps we may get a better view from a lower point."

Accordingly we went down the hill, and walked along the high ground
above the beach, looking out from every spot among the trees where we
could get a clear sight of the sea. As the sun rose his rays penetrated
through the mist, but still no boat could we see; there was nothing
before us but dark, leaden waves, with white crests and sheets of foam
blown like driving snow from off them. We returned, therefore, with sad
hearts to the embers of the fire, where we cooked some turtle and drank
some cocoa-nut milk for breakfast. Our hearts, I believe, were grateful
that we had been preserved from the destruction which we believed had
overtaken our companions. After recruiting our strength, we again
climbed up to a high point in the neighbourhood, where we sat for a long
time without speaking, watching the foaming ocean, with Solon crouching
at our feet. Suddenly Solon sprung up, and looked seaward with his head
and neck stretched out to the utmost. Tom and I gazed eagerly in the
same direction. After looking for a little time I caught sight of a
black spot amid the white crests of the waves. It seemed like a mere
speck. I should have thought that it was merely a man's head or hat, or
nothing larger than a cask. After searching about for some time I
brought my glass to bear on it. It was a boat, and a large one; it
seemed full of men. I could scarcely hope that it was Mr Henley's. On
she came. Some of the men appeared to be rowing, but there was a small
sail set--a mere table-napkin it seemed. Still we had a prospect of
having companions, and if the boat was as large as I fancied, we might
be able to get away in her from the island. We hurried down to the
beach. If Mr Henley was in the boat he would make, we knew, for the
open