I groaned.
“I don’t know how we managed to get ashore, sir,” said Jecks faintly. “I think it was because there was so little undertow to the waves. When the boat struck, it felt to me as if I was being blown through the shallow water, and I shouldn’t have been here if I hadn’t come up against Mr Ching, who was pulling you along.”
“Then you saved me, Ching?” I cried.
“Ching takee hold, and pullee here. Velly pull wolk. Him get hold of tow-chang, and pullee him both together.”
“That’s right, sir. I snatched at anything, and got hold of his tail, and held on. But you don’t mind, Mr Ching?”
“No; mustn’t cut tow-chang off.”
“Let’s try if we can find the others,” I said; and, taking the lead, I walked round the mass of rock which had sheltered us, to gaze out at the heaving sea, which was rising and falling restlessly; but there was no white water, all was of a delicious blue, darker than the sky, and not a sail in sight.
To right and left extended a low cliff, at whose feet lay huge masses which had fallen from time to time; then an irregular stretch of sand extended to where the waves came curling over, the swell being very heavy, and the only trace of the storm to be seen was the way in which the sand had been driven up against the cliff, so as to form quite a glacis.
We could see about half a mile in either direction, but there was no sign of our companions, and my heart sank again. There were, however, here and there, ridges of rock, running down like breakwaters into the sea, and about which it fretted and tossed tremendously; and, in the hope that one of these ridges might hide our friends from our view, I climbed to the top of the highest piece of rock I could reach, and took a long and careful survey.
“See anything, sir?” said Tom Jecks.