astward. The
sun's lower limb was just touching the western horizon, when his red
rays, glancing over their shoulders, showed them some white spots that
appeared to rise out of the water.

Were they clouds? No! Their rounded tops, cutting the sky with a clear
line, forbade this belief. They should be hills, either of snow or of
sand. It was not the region for snow: they could only be sand-hills.

The cry of "land" pealed simultaneously from the lips of all--that
cheerful cry that has so oft given gladness to the despairing castaway,
and, redoubling their exertions, the spar was propelled through the
water more rapidly than ever.

Reinvigorated by the prospect of once more setting foot upon land, they
forgot for the moment thirst, hunger, and weariness; and only occupied
themselves in sculling their craft towards the shore.

Under the belief that they had still several miles to make before the
beach could be attained, they were one and all working with eyes turned
downward. At that moment old Bill, chancing to look up, gave utterance
to a shout of joy, which was instantly echoed by his youthful
companions: all had at the same time perceived the long sandspit
projecting far out into the water; and which looked like the hand of
some friend held out to bid them welcome.

They had scarce made this discovery before another of like pleasant
nature came under their attention. That was, that they were touching
bottom! Their legs, bestriding the spar, hung down on each side of it;
and, to the joy of all, they now felt their feet scraping along the
sand.

As if actuated by one impulse all four dismounted from the irksome seat
they had been so long compelled to keep; and, bidding adieu to the spar,
they plunged on through the shoal water, without stop or stay, until
they stood high and dry upon the extreme point of the peninsula.

By this time the sun had gone down; and the four dripping forms, dimly
outlined in the purple twilight, appeared like four strange creatures
who had just emerged from out the depths of the ocean.

"Where next?"

This was the mental interrogatory of all four; though by none of them
shaped into words.

"Nowhere to-night" was the answer suggested by the inclination of each.

Impelled by hunger, stimulated by thirst, one would have expected them
to proceed onward in search of food and water to alleviate this double
suffering. But there was an inclination stronger than either, too
strong