Below us, and almost at our feet, was the schooner,--our sole connecting link with the world of men,--her cheery pine-colored deck just visible over the shore cliffs.

Suddenly, as we gazed, she swung off, showing her bow; and we saw the sailors jumping about the windlass.
"What does that mean ?" exclaimed Capt.Mazard.

"Possible they've got such a breeze as that down there?
Why, it doesn't blow enough _here_ to swing the vessel round like that!" "But only look down the inlet!" said Donovan.

"How wild it seems! See those lines of foam! Hark!" A rushing noise as of some great river foaming among bowlders began to be heard.
"It's the tide coming in!" shouted the captain, starting to run down the rocks.
The schooner had swung back and round the other way.

What we had read of the high and violent tides in these straits flashed into my mind.
The captain was making a bee-line for the vessel: the rest of us followed as fast as we could run.