hought
thereon.

The ship was now very near the rocks. The men were ready with the boat,
and the captain beside them giving orders, when a tremendous wave came
towards us. We three ran towards the bow to lay hold of our oar, and
had barely reached it when the wave fell on the deck with a crash like
thunder. At the same moment the ship struck; the foremast broke off
close to the deck and went over the side, carrying the boat and men
along with it. Our oar got entangled with the wreck, and Jack seized an
axe to cut it free; but owing to the motion of the ship, he missed the
cordage and struck the axe deep into the oar. Another wave, however,
washed it clear of the wreck. We all seized hold of it, and the next
instant we were struggling in the wild sea. The last thing I saw was
the boat whirling in the surf, and all the sailors tossed into the
foaming waves. Then I became insensible.

On recovering from my swoon I found myself lying on a bank of soft
grass, under shelter of an overhanging rock, with Peterkin on his knees
by my side, tenderly bathing my temples with water, and endeavouring to
stop the blood that flowed from a wound in my forehead.

CHAPTER THREE.

THE CORAL ISLAND--OUR FIRST COGITATIONS AFTER LANDING AND THE RESULT OF
THEM--WE CONCLUDE THAT THE ISLAND IS UNINHABITED.

There is a strange and peculiar sensation experienced in recovering from
a state of insensibility which is almost indescribable: a sort of
dreamy, confused consciousness; a half-waking, half-sleeping condition,
accompanied with a feeling of weariness, which, however, is by no means
disagreeable. As I slowly recovered, and heard the voice of Peterkin
inquiring whether I felt better, I thought that I must have overslept
myself, and should be sent to the masthead for being lazy; but before I
could leap up in haste, the thought seemed to vanish suddenly away, and
I fancied that I must have been ill. Then a balmy breeze fanned my
cheek; and I thought of home, and the garden at the back of my father's
cottage with its luxuriant flowers, and the sweet-scented honeysuckle
that my dear mother trained so carefully upon the trellised porch. But
the roaring of the surf put these delightful thoughts to flight, and I
was back again at sea, watching the dolphins and the flying-fish, and
reefing topsails off the wild and stormy Cape Horn. Gradually the roar
of the surf became louder and more distinct. I thought of being wrecked
far, far