84 A NATURALIST IN CANNIBAL LAND 



We hung on to the keel all the morning until she 

 drifted inshore. The shore there consisted of great 

 cliffs of coral which had been hollowed out under- 

 neath the sea level by the action of the waves. It 

 left little chance of landing with the heavy surf that 

 was then beating. Fortunately I spied a bit of a 

 shelving beach, and on the crest of a big wave made 

 for that. The wave curled over me and sent me 

 shooting down towards the bottom. I thought of 

 the razor-sharp edges of the steep coral cliffs, of the 

 great hollowed-out caves beneath the water-line where 

 I would be battered to death without a chance of 

 escape, and concluded that I had collected my last 

 butterfly. I kept my breath stubbornly, however, 

 though my chest and head were nigh to bursting, 

 and after what seemed a million years I came to the 

 surface. But in a second the surf seized me again 

 and I was sucked down to a coral ledge which bit 

 cruelly into my leg. Perhaps the new sharp pain of 

 this saved me. I kicked out vigorously and got to 

 the surface once again. This time the waves were 

 kind and flung me on to the little shelving beach. 



I got to shore with very little breath, but with a 

 deep sense of thankfulness. The boys were all saved 

 except the Australian boy, who perished. The natives 

 who had watched our struggles without attempting 

 to help us gave us something to eat, and we managed 

 to make ourselves fairly comfortable, but I will carry 

 to my grave marks of the wounds that I received in 



