as
hard as we can, and go out as the surf draws back, so as to meet the next
wave before it breaks. Everything depends on that."

They took their places in the canoe, and grasped the paddles that they had
found in her. Two or three waves passed under them, and then they saw one
higher than the others approaching them.

"We will go out on the back of this one," Wilcox said. "Paddle the moment
the surf lifts the canoe, and don't let her be washed up a foot."

The wave fell over with a crash, and a torrent of foam rushed up towards
them.

"Now," Wilcox exclaimed, as the white line reached the bow, "paddle for
your lives!"

For a moment, in spite of their desperate efforts, they were carried
upwards, then the canoe seemed to hang in the air, and they were riding
forward with the speed of an arrow on the receding water.

"All you know," Wilcox shouted, and as the rush of water ceased they drove
her ahead to meet the next wave. It rose higher and higher. The canoe
reached it, and, as it passed under them, stood almost upright. Two or
three more desperate strokes, and they heard a crash behind them.

"Row, row!" Wilcox shouted, as they felt the boat drawn backwards. It was
but for a few seconds, then they moved ahead again, passed over the next
wave, and were safe. They now settled to steady paddling, and before they
had gone many hundred yards from shore they no longer felt the long smooth
rollers, over which the canoe glided insensibly.

By daylight the land they had left was far behind them, the low-lying
coast had sunk from their view, and the hills behind were almost shrouded
from sight by the mist that rose from the swamps.

"It was well we rescued Mr. Joyce before it was dark," the sailor said to
Stephen. "One night in those swamps is enough to lay any white man up with
fever. That was why I was so anxious to get him away at once. I did not
think that they would kill him straight off. If they had wanted him for
the feast they would have cut off his head when they caught him. I expect
they would have kept him for some other occasion; but I wanted to get him
out of it before the mists began to rise from the swamps. Now, sir, as we
are well away, shall I put her head north or south?"

"I don't think it matters much, Wilcox. There is some high land just ahead
now, we may as well make in that direction as any other; but if we get to
a small island on the way, I should think that it would be safest to land
there, a