alive with crabs and lobsters, trundling to and fro lopsidedly, and
I had to harden my heart against the horror of their carrion
neighbourhood. On all sides I could feel the grain and the clefts
of hard, living stone; no planks, no iron, not a sign of any wreck;
the ESPIRITO SANTO was not there. I remember I had almost a sense
of relief in my disappointment, and I was about ready to leave go,
when something happened that sent me to the surface with my heart
in my mouth. I had already stayed somewhat late over my
explorations; the current was freshening with the change of the
tide, and Sandag Bay was no longer a safe place for a single
swimmer. Well, just at the last moment there came a sudden flush
of current, dredging through the tangles like a wave. I lost one
hold, was flung sprawling on my side, and, instinctively grasping
for a fresh support, my fingers closed on something hard and cold.
I think I knew at that moment what it was. At least I instantly
left hold of the tangle, leaped for the surface, and clambered out
next moment on the friendly rocks with the bone of a man's leg in
my grasp.

Mankind is a material creature, slow to think and dull to perceive
connections. The grave, the wreck of the brig, and the rusty shoe-
buckle were surely plain advertisements. A child might have read
their dismal story, and yet it was not until I touched that actual
piece of mankind that the full horror of the charnel ocean burst
upon my spirit. I laid the bone beside the buckle, picked up my
clothes, and ran as I was along the rocks towards the human shore.
I could not be far enough from the spot; no fortune was vast enough
to tempt me back again. The bones of the drowned dead should
henceforth roll undisturbed by me, whether on tangle or minted
gold. But as soon as I trod the good earth again, and had covered