( 



\ 



198 A NATURALIST ON DESERT ISLANDS. 



By the time we get up to it, a stiff breeze is blowing 

 down the channel which separates the two groups of 

 islands ; and a tide like a mill race is running through it. 

 To our right lies Pico, close upon six hundred feet high : 

 a mile or more away upon our left, the waves are dashing 

 in a white line of breakers on the southern side of Orquilla, 

 which is another hundred feet higher, and roughly three 

 miles long. It is the island we propose to explore. 

 Between us and the tail end of it are some nasty tide- 

 rips ; and it is pretty evident that we could hardly 

 have chosen a worse day, and that we shall have a job 

 to land. 



We look across the riot of Avaters to where, in the 

 dull grey of the morning, Orquilla rises grandly and 

 supremely indifferent to it all — a towering mass of granite. 

 Sphinx-like it rises from the sea, serene and tranquil, 

 amid the turmoil of water raging at its feet. The fate 

 of our little expedition is trembling in the balance. 



" Well, Captain, what do you think of it ? " we say in 

 rather an anxious tone. "Eh, sir ? — well — I don 'now — 

 may as well have a go at it anyway — you can but come 

 back if it don't look fit." " So we can. Captain ! Well ' 

 that's good enough for us. Come on then, let's fire away 

 at once." 



Ting-a-ling. Ting-a-ling-ting-ting. Slow her down 

 please, Mr. Mac." 



Half speed it is — quarter speed it is — and then way 

 enough to keep her going against the tide. Quickly 

 she loses her pace tiU we are barely moving ahead. 



Now the time has come to lower the boat. The Captain 

 turns to the man at the wheel : " Starboard a little and 

 give 'em the lee-side — steady T 



" Steady it is, sir." " Now then — there's no time to 

 lose " — sharp's the word. 



Quickly we run down the bridge ladder and gain the 

 main deck, meeting Mr. Eagle, the first officer, who is 

 hurrying along from aft. Short and sharp come his 

 orders. 



