Desmond Coke, Darwin Island (1912)
“ The natives, attracted by my cries, my haste, and the limp mass over my shoulder—conceiving it, as I later ascertained, to be a bag of treasure, in which they would share—hurriedly, if nervously, drew in; and as the first of the monkeys bore down on us, snarling and stiff of tail, we pushed our frail bark on to the waves, with much chattering, alarm, and splashing from the swarthy but white-livered boatmen. Perhaps it was this last—the splashing—which, after some minutes, brought Brand back to life again. ”
