rose and flickered. Instantly Harrigan laid small bits of wood
criss-cross on the pile of tinder. The flame licked at them
tentatively, recoiled, rose again and caught hold. The fire was well
started.

With gusts of wind fanning it roughly, the flame rose fast. Harrigan
made other journeys to the rotten stump and wrenched away great chunks
of bark and wood. He came back and piled them on the fire. It towered
high, the upper tongues twisting among the branches of the tree. They
laid Kate Malone between the windbreak and the fire. In a short time
her trembling ceased; she turned her face to the blaze and slept.

They watched her with jealous care all night. In lieu of a pillow they
heaped some of the wood dust from the stump beneath her head. When
their large hands hovered over her to straighten the clothes which the
wind fluttered, she seemed marvelously delicate and fragile. It was
astonishing that so fragile a creature should have lived through the
buffeting of the sea.

Toward morning the storm fell at a breath and the rain died away. They
agreed that it might be safe to leave her alone while they ventured out
to look for food, and at the first hint of light they started out, one
to the north, and one to the south. Harrigan started at an easy run. He
felt a joyous exultation like that of a boy eager for play. He tried to
find shellfish first, but without success. His search carried him far
down the beach to a group of big rocks rolling out to sea. On the
leeward side of these rocks, in little hollows of the stone, he found a
quantity of the eggs of some seafowl. They were quite large, the shells
a dirty, faint blue and apparently very thick. He collected all he
could carry and started back.