Augusta scarcely closed her eyes; but little Dick slept like a top upon her bosom, sheltered by her arms and the blanket from the cold and penetrating spray.

In the bottom of the boat lay Mr.Meeson, to whom Augusta, pitying his condition--for he was shivering dreadfully--had given the other blanket, keeping nothing for herself except the woollen shawl.
At last, however, there came a faint glow in the east, and the daylight began to break over the stormy sea.

Augusta turned her head and stared through the mist.
"What is that ?" she said, in a voice trembling with excitement, to the sailor Bill, who was taking his turn at the tiller; and she pointed to a dark mass that loomed up almost over them.
The man looked, and then looked again; and then hallowed out joyfully, "Land--land ahead!" Up struggled Mr.Meeson on to his knees--his legs were so stiff that he could not stand--and began to stare wildly about him.
"Thank God!" he cried.

"Where is it?
Is it New Zealand?
If ever I get there, I'll stop there.

I'll never get on a ship again!" "New Zealand!" growled the sailor.