His feet lay in the water, but his head was on the sand, and thus he remained for fully a quarter of an hour, unable to move.
There was a strange ringing in his ears, and when he at last arose his head ached as if it would split open.
"Oh!" he groaned, and staggered up the sand to the smooth, rocky wall.
Then he fell again, and did not move until half an hour later, when his head felt somewhat better.
Where was he, and how could he save himself?
These questions were easy to ask, but no answer was at hand, and he sank down much disheartened.
Then he suddenly roused himself and called loudly:
"Bob! Bob Vilett! Where are you?"
Again and again his voice was raised, but only a dismal echo answered him.
Was his late companion dead?