An inky darkness back of the projection impressed him with the idea that a cave lay beyond.
At his feet trickled a little stream of clear, sparkling water, coming from the crevasse above, the headquarters of a spring.

He fell upon his knees and plunged his hot face into the cool water, swallowing great gulps.
When he arose to his feet everything looked brighter, fairer, happier.
The scene, gorgeous a few moments before, was now more than that to his revived senses.

A desire to shout jubilantly came over him.

With an exultation that he could scarcely control he dashed on up the sand-strewn ledge toward the awning-like rock.
He found that a roomy cave ran back into the hill a dozen feet or more.
Its floor was covered with fine white sand, thrown up from the beach during the wind storms, and it was a most perfect shelter,--this hole fifty feet above the placid waters.
Darkness was coming, so he ran back to the little rivulet.

In a broken cocoanut shell he secured some fresh water and began his journey to the other side of the ridge.