of snow sweeping over the
intermediate space between them and the camp, where the ground was
apparently of a somewhat lower level.

Although possibly their companions were on somewhat higher ground, yet
at any moment the sea might sweep over it. The three shouted and
shouted again. At last they heard voices crying out in reply, but it
was too dark to enable them to distinguish any one. All this time the
boat, their tent, and the flagstaff were running great risk of being
carried away. But the preservation of their fellow-creatures was of
more consequence than anything else. At length they caught sight of a
figure emerging from the gloom, rushing through the seething water which
swept by him. The party on the sand-bank shouted to encourage him. Now
he stopped, afraid of being carried off his legs.

"On, on!" shouted Owen, who had brought from the tent a long line of
tolerable thickness.

"Hold on to this," he cried to Mike and Nat. "I will fasten it round my
waist, and should any of the men be knocked down, I will try and save
them."

Such appeared very likely to happen to the person they saw approaching
them. Already he seemed half covered with foam. Again, however, the
sea receded, and taking courage he rushed forward, and Owen, catching
him in his arms, dragged him up. He proved to be the carpenter's mate.
Just then two more people appeared, making their way towards the
beacon-fire. They were followed by a third, who quickly overtook them,
and pushing on without hesitation soon reached the bank. Owen
recognised Mr Scoones.

"I am glad you are safe, sir," said Owen.

"No thanks to these fellows, for no one roused me when they saw the sea
breaking close up to their feet."

Of the two other men who were making their way, one hesitated, while the
other, following the example of the mate, rushed boldly forward. He was
within a few yards of the bank, when the sea, sweeping by as it receded,
rose up to his middle. He vainly attempted to stem it; he was lifted
off his feet, and was being hurried out among the breakers when Owen,
springing forward into the receding water as it swept round the
sand-bank, caught him by the arm, and they were both pulled up by their
companions.

"Thank you, sir," said the man, whose name was Bill Pratt, generally
called Bill, and who was a well-conducted fellow when sober. "I owe you
a good turn for this, Mr Hartley."

The mate and the other men had thrown themselves d