Harry Collingwood, The First Mate: The Story of a Strange Cruise
“ There was no sign of life that we could discern, save a few gaudily plumaged birds that flitted hither and thither, sometimes sweeping right over the boat, as though curious to ascertain what new thing this was that invaded their solitude; and presently the craft that had been our home for ten days—which seemed more like months to us—slid with a thin grating sound on to the sand, and stopped.Scarcely waiting to lay in my oar, I scrambled out of the cockpit, reeled along the deck, dropped over the overhanging bow on to the hot sand, and held up my arms to help the others ashore. ”
