y rate, as the
waters ebbed, he found that he could cling to the rock, and then, that
he could even stand upon it, although the waves broke over him at every
moment, and sometimes nearly washed him from his hold.

Never was daylight more anxiously awaited. It came at last; a faint,
grey light in the east, a climbing flush of rose-colour, a host of
crimson wavelets on a golden sea. And, as soon as the darkness
disappeared, Percival found that his conjecture was a correct one. He
was not alone. There were others beside himself who had won their way to
even safer positions than his own. Portions of the reef on which the
ship had struck were now to be plainly seen above the sea-level; it was
plain that they were rarely touched by the salt water, for there was an
attempt at vegetation in one or two places. And beyond the reef Percival
saw land, and land that it would be easy enough to reach.

He turned to look for the remains of the _Arizona_, but there was little
to be seen. The tops of her masts were visible only in the deep water
near the reef. Spars, barrels, articles of furniture, could here and
there be distinguished; nothing of value nor of interest. Percival
determined to try for the shore. But first he would see whether he could
help the other men whom he had discerned at a little distance from him
on a higher portion of the reef.

He crept out to them, feeling his way cautiously, and not sure whether
he might not be swept off his feet by the force of the waves. To his
surprise, when he reached the two men, he found that they were two of
the survivors from the wreck of the _Falcon_. One of them was Thomas
Jackson, and the other was Mackay, the steerage passenger.

"It's plain you weren't born to be drowned," said Percival, addressing
Jackson, familiarly.

"No, sir, it don't seem like it," returned the man. "There's one or two
more that have saved themselves by swimming, too, I fancy. We'd better
make land while we can, sir."

"Your friend's not able to help himself much, is he?" said Percival,
with a sharp glance at the bearded face of the steerage passenger.

"Swims like a duck when he's all right, sir; but at present he's got a
broken leg. Fainted just now; he'll be better presently. I wouldn't have
liked to leave him behind."

"We'll haul him ashore between us," said Percival.

It was more easily said than done; but the task was accomplished at
last. Thomas Jackson was of a wiry frame: Percival's traine