ening."

"Ay, ay! There _is_ an opening, though."

And soon, looking keenly, Eleanor thought she could discern it. Not
until they were almost upon it however; and then it was a place of
rough water enough, though the regular fall of the surf was interrupted
and there was only a general upheaving and commotion of the waves among
themselves. It was nothing very terrific; the tide was in a good state;
and presently Eleanor saw that they had passed the barrier, they were
in smooth water, and making for an opening in the land immediately
opposite which might be either the mouth of a river or an inlet of the
sea. They neared it fast, sailed up into it; and there to Eleanor's
mortification the skipper dropped anchor and swung to. She saw no
settlement. Some few scattered houses were plain enough now to be seen;
but nothing even like a village. Tufts of trees waved gracefully; rock
and hill and rich-coloured lowland spread out a variety of beauty;
where was Vuliva, the station? This might be the island. Where were the
people? Could they come no nearer than this?

Mr. Amos made enquiry. The village, the skipper said, was "round the
pint;" in other words, behind a woody headland which just before them
bent the course of the river into a sharp angle. The schooner would go
no further; passengers and effects were to be transported the rest of
the way in boats. People they would see soon enough; so the master of
the "Queen Esther" advised them.

"I suppose the natives will carry the news of the schooner being here,
and our friends will come and look after us," Mr. Amos said.

Eleanor changed colour, and sat with a beating heart looking at the
fair fresh landscape which was to be--perhaps--the scene of her future
home. The scene was peace itself. Still water after the upheavings of
the ocean; the smell and almost the fluttering sound of the green
leaves in the delicious wind; the ripple on the surface of the little
river; the soft stillness of land sounds, with the heavy beat of the
surf left behind on the reef outside. Eleanor drew a long breath.
People would find them out soon, the skipper had said. She was
exceedingly disposed to get rid of her sea dress and put on something
that looked like the summer morning; for without recollecting what the
seasons were in the Southern Ocean, that was what the time seemed like
to her. She looked round at Mrs. Amos, who was sitting up and beginning
to realize that she had done with the sea