make way for this laddie--it's his own brother."

In utter bewilderment Eustace felt himself forced to the centre of
the crowd, and there, with a man kneeling beside him trying
restoratives, lay Peter, with a life-belt round him, his face
ashen, and his fair hair all sodden--but he was living. They said
he was alive, but certainly he did not look it.

Eustace turned, fought his way madly through the press, and dashed
up the beach straight to the trees where his mother sat bending
over Becky.

"Hush," she said warningly; "I am just getting her off to sleep."

The quiet voice pulled the boy up just in time, before he had
blurted out his news in all its crudeness.

"Mother," he said instead, "let me hold Becky--I can really. Peter
will want you."

Mrs. Orban neither started nor changed colour; she just stared at
Eustace curiously, and said inquiringly,--

"Peter?"

"Yes, mummie, Peter," Eustace said in a shaking voice. "He is
unconscious, but he will want you when he opens his eyes."

He held out his arms for Becky; and Mrs. Orban rose and went as if
she were dreaming, leaving him standing there with the baby.

It was a very long time before Peter knew that he wanted his
mother. Terror and the exposure in the water for so many hours had
done their work, and even when the little fellow recovered
consciousness he was too ill to realize anything at all.

Every one was very kind to the Orbans. The poor lady who had lost
her husband took entire charge of Becky; other fellow-passengers
offered to help with Peter, who needed nursing night and day. The
survivors from the wreck clung together, and found some comfort in
helping each other. The people of the station were very attentive
and good; but the relief party from Cooktown was hailed with
thankfulness, for there were of course many discomforts and
unpleasantnesses. The blacks had a disagreeable habit of prowling
about in the night and peeping at their guests as they tried to
sleep in the impromptu hammocks. The food was coarse and
monotonous; the men rough, and uncouth in their ways.

When Eustace saw his father he felt a great burden lifted from his
shoulders; his powerlessness to help his mother did not matter any
more; no one could comfort her like his father. Then there was Bob;
he would help the whole family to keep up in his usual splendid
way!

Fortunately Mr. Orban and Bob had not yet left Cooktown when the
news of the disaster arrived. They hastened