THE WONDERFUL LAND He did not arouse her at once, but sat below her, looking at her sweet, tired face, peaceful in the slumber that had been so long in coming, wondering what her dreams could be.

Far down the shore, near the tree under which he had found himself and to whose shelter she had dragged him,--something told him vaguely,--was the spar that had ridden the waves with them the night before.

Long, white and gleaming it lay in the waning sunlight.

The sight of it filled him with an enthusiasm he never had known before.

His heart swelled with homage to the strong, sturdy piece of timber.