m Ratinga before
the mutiny broke out, and the utter impossibility of his being able to
swim back. Then he thought of sharks, and a nervous tendency to draw up
his legs and yell out affected him. But the thought of his father, and
of the probable fate that awaited him, at length overbore all other
considerations, and threw the poor boy into such a state of despair,
that he clung to the life-preserver for a long time in a state of
semi-stupor.

At last the day dawned faintly in the east and the glorious sun arose,
and Orley's heart was cheered. From earliest infancy he had been taught
to pray, so you may be sure he did not fail at this crisis in his young
life. But no answer was returned to his prayer until a great part of
the weary day had passed, and he had begun to look forward with dread to
the approaching night.

As evening advanced, exhaustion began to creep over him, and more than
once he felt himself slipping from his support under the influence of
sleep. The struggle to retain consciousness now became terrible. He
fought the battle in many ways. Sometimes he tried to shake himself up
by shouting. Then he again had recourse to prayer, in a loud voice.
Once he even attempted to sing, but his heart failed him, and at last he
could do nothing but grasp the life-buoy and cling with all the tenacity
of despair. And, oh! what thoughts of his mother came over him then!
It seemed as if every loving act and look of hers was recalled to his
mind. How he longed to clasp her once more in his arms and kiss her
before he died!

While these thoughts were gradually taking the form of a hazy dream, he
was rudely aroused by something grasping his hair.

Sharks, of course, leaped to his mind, and he struggled round with a
wild gurgling shriek, for the grasp partially sank him. Then he felt
himself violently dragged upwards, and his eyes encountered the dark
face and glittering eye-balls of a savage.

Then was Orley's cry of fear turned into a shout of joy, for in that
dark countenance he recognised the face of a friend. A canoe full of
Ratinga natives had nearly run him down. They had been absent on an
expedition, and were alike ignorant of the visit of the Free Rover and
the departure of Antonio Zeppa.

Their astonishment at finding Orlando in such a plight was only equalled
by their curiosity to know how he had come there; but they were
compelled to exercise patience, for the poor boy, overcome by mingled
joy