bad man, burning with wounded vanity and
undefined jealousy, waited for some method to suggest itself, by which
he might claim the credit of the escape, and snatch from the prisoner,
who had dared to rival him, the last hope of freedom.

Rufus Dawes, drifting with the current, had allowed himself to coast
along the eastern side of the harbour until the Pilot Station appeared
in view on the opposite shore. By this time it was nearly seven o'clock.
He landed at a sandy cove, and drawing up his raft, proceeded to unpack
from among his garments a piece of damper. Having eaten sparingly, and
dried himself in the sun, he replaced the remains of his breakfast,
and pushed his floats again into the water. The Pilot Station lay some
distance below him, on the opposite shore. He had purposely made
his second start from a point which would give him this advantage of
position; for had he attempted to paddle across at right angles, the
strength of the current would have swept him out to sea. Weak as he was,
he several times nearly lost his hold on the reeds. The clumsy bundle
presenting too great a broadside to the stream, whirled round and
round, and was once or twice nearly sucked under. At length, however,
breathless and exhausted, he gained the opposite bank, half a mile below
the point he had attempted to make, and carrying his floats out of reach
of the tide, made off across the hill to the Pilot Station.

Arrived there about midday, he set to work to lay his snares. The
goats, with whose hides he hoped to cover the coracle, were sufficiently
numerous and tame to encourage him to use every exertion. He carefully
examined the tracks of the animals, and found that they converged to
one point--the track to the nearest water. With much labour he cut down
bushes, so as to mask the approach to the waterhole on all sides save
where these tracks immediately conjoined. Close to the water, and at
unequal distances along the various tracks, he scattered the salt he had
obtained by his rude distillation of sea-water. Between this scattered
salt and the points where he judged the animals would be likely to
approach, he set his traps, made after the following manner. He took
several pliant branches of young trees, and having stripped them of
leaves and twigs, dug with his knife and the end of the rude paddle he
had made for the voyage across the inlet, a succession of holes, about a
foot deep. At the thicker end of these saplings he fastene