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spot where the Chinese had begun to wade ashore from the junk。 I
drew myself out on the mud and remained lying flat。
Again Yellow Handkerchief returned to the beach and made a search
of the island； and again he returned to the heap of clam…shells。 I
knew what was running in his mind as well as he did himself。 No
one could leave or land without making tracks in the mud。 The only
tracks to be seen were those leading from his skiff and from where
the junk had been。 I was not on the island。 I must have left it
by one or the other of those two tracks。 He had just been over the
one to his skiff； and was certain I had not left that way。
Therefore I could have left the island only by going over the
tracks of the junk landing。 This he proceeded to verify by wading
out over them himself； lighting matches as he came along。
When he arrived at the point where I had first lain； I knew； by the
matches he burned and the time he took； that he had discovered the
marks left by my body。 These he followed straight to the water and
into it； but in three feet of water he could no longer see them。
On the other hand； as the tide was still falling； he could easily
make out the impression made by the junk's bow； and could have
likewise made out the impression of any other boat if it had landed
at that particular spot。 But there was no such mark； and I knew
that he was absolutely convinced that I was hiding somewhere in the
mud。
But to hunt on a dark night for a boy in a sea of mud would be like
hunting for a needle in a haystack； and he did not attempt it。
Instead he went back to the beach and prowled around for some time。
I was hoping he would give me up and go； for by this time I was
suffering severely from the cold。 At last he waded out to his
skiff and rowed away。 What if this departure of Yellow
Handkerchief's were a sham？ What if he had done it merely to
entice me ashore？
The more I thought of it the more certain I became that he had made
a little too much noise with his oars as he rowed away。 So I
remained； lying in the mud and shivering。 I shivered till the
muscles of the small of my back ached and pained me as badly as the
cold； and I had need of all my self…control to force myself to
remain in my miserable situation。
It was well that I did； however； for； possibly an hour later； I
thought I could make out something moving on the beach。 I watched
intently； but my ears were rewarded first； by a raspy cough I knew
only too well。 Yellow Handkerchief had sneaked back； landed on the
other side of the island； and crept around to surprise me if I had
returned。
After that； though hours passed without sign of him； I was afraid
to return to the island at all。 On the other hand； I was almost
equally afraid that I should die of the exposure I was undergoing。
I had never dreamed one could suffer so。 I grew so cold and numb；
finally； that I ceased to shiver。 But my muscles and bones began
to ache in a way that was agony。 The tide had long since begun to
rise； and； foot by foot； it drove me in toward the beach。 High
water came at three o'clock； and at three o'clock I drew myself up
on the beach； more dead than alive； and too helpless to have
offered any resistance had Yellow Handkerchief swooped down upon
me。
But no Yellow Handkerchief appeared。 He had given me up and gone
back to Point Pedro。 Nevertheless； I was in a deplorable； not to
say dangerous； condition。 I could not stand upon my feet； much
less walk。 My clammy； muddy garments clung to me like sheets of
ice。 I thought I should never get them off。 So numb and lifeless
were my fingers； and so weak was I； that it seemed to take an hour
to get off my shoes。 I had not the strength to break the porpoise…
hide laces； and the knots defied me。 I repeatedly beat my hands
upon the rocks to get some sort of life into them。 Sometimes I
felt sure I was going to die。
But in the end； … after several centuries； it seemed to me； … I got
off the last of my clothes。 The water was now close at hand； and I
crawled painfully into it and washed the mud from my naked body。
Still； I could not get on my feet and walk and I was afraid to lie
still。 Nothing remained but to crawl weakly； like a snail； and at
the cost of constant pain； up and down the sand。 I kept this up as
long as possible； but as the east paled with the coming of dawn I
began to succumb。 The sky grew rosy…red； and the golden rim of the
sun； showing above the horizon； found me lying helpless and
motionless among the clam…shells。
As in a dream； I saw the familiar mainsail of the Reindeer as she
slipped out of San Rafael Creek on a light puff of morning air。
This dream was very much broken。 There are intervals I can never
recollect on looking back over it。 Three things； however； I
distinctly remember： the first sight of the Reindeer's mainsail；
her lying at anchor a few hundred feet away and a small boat
leaving her side； and the cabin stove roaring red…hot； myself
swathed all over with blankets； except on the chest and shoulders；
which Charley was pounding and mauling unmercifully； and my mouth
and throat burning with the coffee which Neil Partington was
pouring down a trifle too hot。
But burn or no burn； I tell you it felt good。 By the time we
arrived in Oakland I was as limber and strong as ever； … though
Charlie and Neil Partington were afraid I was going to have
pneumonia； and Mrs。 Partington； for my first six months of school；
kept an anxious eye upon me to discover the first symptoms of
consumption。
Time flies。 It seems but yesterday that I was a lad of sixteen on
the fish patrol。 Yet I know that I arrived this very morning from
China； with a quick passage to my credit； and master of the
barkentine Harvester。 And I know that to…morrow morning I shall
run over to Oakland to see Neil Partington and his wife and family；
and later on up to Benicia to see Charley Le Grant and talk over
old times。 No； I shall not go to Benicia； now that I think about
it。 I expect to be a highly interested party to a wedding； shortly
to take place。 Her name is Alice Partington； and； since Charley
has promised to be best man； he will have to come down to Oakland
instead。
End