hide laces, and the knots defied me. I repeatedly beat my hands
upon the rocks to get some sort of life into them. Sometimes I
felt sure I was going to die.

But in the end,--after several centuries, it seemed to me,--I got
off the last of my clothes. The water was now close at hand, and I
crawled painfully into it and washed the mud from my naked body.
Still, I could not get on my feet and walk and I was afraid to lie
still. Nothing remained but to crawl weakly, like a snail, and at
the cost of constant pain, up and down the sand. I kept this up as
long as possible, but as the east paled with the coming of dawn I
began to succumb. The sky grew rosy-red, and the golden rim of the
sun, showing above the horizon, found me lying helpless and
motionless among the clam-shells.

As in a dream, I saw the familiar mainsail of the Reindeer as she
slipped out of San Rafael Creek on a light puff of morning air.
This dream was very much broken. There are intervals I can never
recollect on looking back over it. Three things, however, I
distinctly remember: the first sight of the Reindeer's mainsail;
her lying at anchor a few hundred feet away and a small boat
leaving her side; and the cabin stove roaring red-hot, myself
swathed all over with blankets, except on the chest and shoulders,
which Charley was pounding and mauling unmercifully, and my mouth
and throat burning with the coffee which Neil Partington was
pouring down a trifle too hot.

But burn or no burn, I tell you it felt good. By the time we
arrived in Oakland I was as limber and strong as ever,--though
Charlie and Neil Partington were afraid I was going to have