men, and once the branches of the palm were gained, the first mate of the Dart found it an easy matter to reach the crown of the tree. From this point a wide expanse of land and sea came into view, and he scrutinized every point of the compass with care.
"There is a native village to the northeast of here," he announced. "I can see forty or fifty bamboo huts and the smoke from several fires. There is a road running from the village to a river which winds in behind the mountain back of us."
"And what can you see down to the beach?" I called up.
"Nothing to the south of us." Tom Dawson turned to look up the coast. "By ginger!" we heard him exclaim, in a low voice.
"Phat now?" queried Matt Gory.
"I see—yes, it is—the wreck of the Dart, cast up high and dry on the shore!"
