s well as curing some fish and birds. This he did by
degrees, while engaged on the raft, so that when all was ready he had a
store of provisions sufficient to last him several weeks. In order to
stow all this he removed another log from the middle of the raft, and,
having deposited the food in the hollow--carefully wrapped in cocoanut
leaves and made into compact bundles--he covered it over by laying a
layer of large leaves above it and lashing a small spar on the top of
them to keep them down. The cask with which he had landed from the
original raft, and which he had preserved with great care, not knowing
how soon he might be in circumstances to require it, served to hold
fresh water.

On a fine morning about sunrise, Jarwin embarked with his little dog and
bade farewell to the coral island, and although he had not dwelt very
long there, he felt, to his own surprise, much regret at quitting it.

A fresh breeze was blowing in the direction of the island--or the
supposed island--he wished to reach. This was important, because, in
such a craft, it was impossible to sail in any way except before the
wind. Still, by means of a rude oar or paddle, he could modify its
direction so as to steer clear of the passage through the reef and get
out to sea.

Once outside, he squared the sail and ran right before the breeze. Of
course such a weighty craft went very slowly through the water, but the
wind was pretty strong, and to Jarwin, who had been for a comparatively
long time unaccustomed to moving on the water, the speed seemed fast
enough. As the island went astern, and the raft lifted and fell gently
on the long swell of the ocean, the seaman's heart beat with a peculiar
joy to which it had long been a stranger, and he thanked God fervently
for having so soon answered his prayer.

For a long time he sat reclining in the hollow of the raft, resting his
hand lightly on the steering oar and gazing in silence at the gradually
fading woods of his late home. The dog, as if it were aware that a
great change was being effected in their destiny, lay also perfectly
still--and apparently contemplative--at his master's feet; resting his
chin on a log and gazing at the receding land. It was evident, however,
that _his_ thoughts were not absent or wandering, for, on the slightest
motion made by his master, his dark eyes turned towards him, his ears
slightly rose, and his tail gave the faintest possible indication of an
intention