n the foam-crackling
surface.

A bonita struck at his white body, and he laughed aloud. It had taken a
piece out, and the sting of it reminded him of why he was there. In the
work to do he had forgotten the purpose of it. The lights of the
Mariposa were growing dim in the distance, and there he was, swimming
confidently, as though it were his intention to make for the nearest land
a thousand miles or so away.

It was the automatic instinct to live. He ceased swimming, but the
moment he felt the water rising above his mouth the hands struck out
sharply with a lifting movement. The will to live, was his thought, and
the thought was accompanied by a sneer. Well, he had will,--ay, will
strong enough that with one last exertion it could destroy itself and
cease to be.

He changed his position to a vertical one. He glanced up at the quiet
stars, at the same time emptying his lungs of air. With swift, vigorous
propulsion of hands and feet, he lifted his shoulders and half his chest
out of water. This was to gain impetus for the descent. Then he let
himself go and sank without movement, a white statue, into the sea. He
breathed in the water deeply, deliberately, after the manner of a man
taking an anaesthetic. When he strangled, quite involuntarily his arms
and legs clawed the water and drove him up to the surface and into the
clear sight of the stars.

The will to live, he thought disdainfully, vainly endeavoring not to
breathe the air into his bursting lungs. Well, he would have to try a
new way. He filled his lungs with air, filled them full. This supply
would take him far down. He turned over and went down head first,
swimming with all his strength and all his will. Deeper and deeper he
went. His eyes were open, and he watched the ghostly, phosphorescent
trails of the darting bonita. As he swam, he hoped that they would not
strike at him, for it might snap the tension of his will. But they did
not strike, and he found time to be grateful for this last kindness of
life.

Down, down, he swam till his arms and leg grew tired and hardly moved. He
knew that he was deep. The pressure on his ear-drums was a pain, and
there was a buzzing in his head. His endurance was faltering, but he
compelled his arms and legs to drive him deeper until his will snapped
and the air drove from his lungs in a great explosive rush. The bubbles
rubbed and bounded like tiny balloons against his cheeks and eyes as they
to