Old Jerry took a careful look. The sand was there, true enough, but there were dangerous breakers between the boat and that shore.
"If you say so, we can run our chances," he said. "The young ladies must hold tight, and not mind a good ducking."
The force of the waves was now carrying them closer and closer to the breakers. Under old Jerry's directions the boys took a short, sharp stroke, keeping the rowboat straight up to the waves. The noise was like thunder, and soon the spray was flying all over them.
"Now pull!" cried Captain Jerry. "One, two, three! Hold tight, girls!" And away they went into the breakers. One wave dashed over the craft, but it was not swamped, and before another could hit them they darted up a swell and onto a long, sandy beach.
In a twinkle the old sailor was out, along with Dick, and, aided by another wave, they ran the boat well up the beach, out of the harm of the waves. It was a hard struggle, and when it was over Dick sank down almost exhausted.
"Saved!" murmured Dora, as she leaped out on shore. "Thank Heaven!"
And all of the others echoed the sentiment.
The empty boat was pulled up out of harm's way and chained fast to a palm tree growing near, and then the party of seven sat down to rest and to talk over the new condition of affairs. They were on a wild, tropical coast, with a long, sandy beach running to the ocean, and back of this a dense mass of tropical vegetation, including palms, plantains, cocoanuts, and date trees. Back of the heavy growth was a distant hill, standing out dimly in the moonlight.
"This looks like a regular Crusoe-like island," said Dora, as she gazed around. "There is not a sign of a habitation anywhere."
"A good many of the South Sea islands are not inhabited," said Dick. "The natives won't live on them because they are subject to volcano eruptions, earthquakes, and tidal waves."
"Well, I hope we don't have any of those things while we stay here," came from Nellie. "An earthquake would scare me almost to death."