ven over. Among the fallen rocks the breakers
spouted and bellowed; loud reverberations, heavy sprays flying and
falling, succeeded one another from second to second; and I saw myself,
if I ventured nearer, dashed to death upon the rough shore or spending
my strength in vain to scale the beetling crags.

Nor was that all, for crawling together on flat tables of rock, or
letting themselves drop into the sea with loud reports, I beheld huge
slimy monsters--soft snails, as it were, of incredible bigness--two or
three score of them together, making the rocks to echo with their
barkings.

I have understood since that they were sea lions, and entirely harmless.
But the look of them, added to the difficulty of the shore and the high
running of the surf, was more than enough to disgust me of that
landing-place. I felt willing rather to starve at sea than to confront
such perils.

In the meantime I had a better chance, as I supposed, before me. North
of Haulbowline Head the land runs in a long way, leaving, at low tide, a
long stretch of yellow sand. To the north of that, again, there comes
another cape--Cape of the Woods, as it was marked upon the chart--buried
in tall green pines, which descended to the margin of the sea.

I remembered what Silver had said about the current that sets northward
along the whole west coast of Treasure Island; and seeing from my
position that I was already under its influence, I preferred to leave
Haulbowline Head behind me, and reserve my strength for an attempt to
land upon the kindlier-looking Cape of the Woods.

There was a great, smooth swell upon the sea. The wind blowing steady
and gentle from the south, there was no contrariety between that and the
current, and the billows rose and fell unbroken.

Had it been otherwise, I must long ago have perished; but as it was, it
is surprising how easily and securely my little and light boat could
ride. Often, as I still lay at the bottom, and kept no more than an eye
above the gunwale, I would see a big blue summit heaving close above me;
yet the coracle would but bounce a little, dance as if on springs, and
subside on the other side into the trough as lightly as a bird.

I began after a little to grow very bold, and sat up to try my skill at
paddling. But even a small change in the disposition of the weight will
produce violent changes in the behavior of a coracle. And I had hardly
moved before the boat, giving up at once her gentle, dancing