I saw a little figure on a surf-beaten rock and recognized Wild.

As I came nearer I called out, "Are you all well ?" and he answered, "We are all well, boss," and then I heard three cheers.

As I drew close to the rock I flung packets of cigarettes ashore; they fell on them like hungry tigers, for well I knew that for months tobacco was dreamed of and talked of.

Some of the hands were in a rather bad way, but Wild had held the party together and kept hope alive in their hearts.

There was no time then to exchange news or congratulations.