ter, and the tide
going out. So ended her voyage; four hundred yards at most, and then to
wait another twelve hours for the tide.

It was too cruel; and every hour so precious. For, even if Hazel was
alive, he would die of cold and hunger ere she could get to him. She
cried like any woman. She persisted like a man.

She made several trips, and put away things in the boat that could
possibly be of use--abundant provision, and a keg of water; Hazel's
wooden spade to paddle or steer with; his basket of tools, etc. Then she
snatched some sleep; but it was broken by sad and terrible dreams. Then
she waited in an agony of impatience for high water.

We are not always the best judges of what is good for us. Probably these
delays saved her own life. She went out at last under far more favorable
circumstances--a light westerly breeze, and no reefs to pass through. She
was, however, severely incommoded with a ground-swell.

At first she steered with the spade as well as she could; but she found
this was not sufficient. The current ran westerly, and she was drifting
out of her course. Then she remembered Hazel's lessons, and made shift to
fasten the spade to the helm, and then lashed the helm. Even this did not
quite do; so she took her little oar, kissed it, cried over it a little,
and then pulled manfully with it so as to keep the true course. It was a
muggy day, neither wet nor dry. White Water Island was not in sight from
Godsend Island; but, as soon as she lost the latter, the former became
visible--an ugly, grinning reef, with an eternal surf on the south and
western sides.

Often she left off rowing, and turned to look at it. It was all black and
blank, except the white and fatal surf.

When she was about four miles from the nearest part of the reef, there
was a rush and bubble in the water, and a great shark came after the
boat. Helen screamed, and turned very cold. She dreaded the monster, not
for what he could do now, but for what he might have done. He seemed to
know the boat, he swam so vigilantly behind it. Was he there when the
boat upset with Hazel in it? Was it in his greedy maw the remains of her
best friend must be sought? Her lips opened, but no sound. She shuddered
and hid her face at this awful thought.

The shark followed steadily.

She got to the reef, but did not hit it off as she intended. She ran
under its lee, lowered the little sail, and steered the boat into a nick
where the shark could hardly