a man lying on the sand about seven yards from the water’s edge. He appeared to be dead. He was clad in black trousers and white shirt, stockings were on his feet, but no boots. I immediately tried if I could discover any signs of life, but could find no pulse, everything he had on was covered with sand, and his body was stiff and cold. I prized open his teeth, and poured some brandy down his throat and then commenced to work his arms to restore animation if possible. After 10 minutes I saw a few signs of life and then, assisted by my wife and the other ladies, I dragged him behind a rock for shelter from the cold wind which was blowing strong. I continued working at him for about half-an-hour and the whole of the ladies assisted me materially by rubbing, in turns, the man’s hands and arms. As soon as I saw it was likely that the man would be saved, I sent Mrs. Ramsay and her sister back to get more assistance and they both cheerfully started on the journey. Meanwhile Mr. Austin Stanton, of Collins-street, Melbourne, in company with Miss Hill, came on the scene, and he at once took off his great coat, and spread it over the man’s body, while Miss Hill took off her jacket and wrapped it round his feet, which were very much bruised. Mr. Stanton had his large St. Bernard dog, “Victor Hugo,” with him, and as warmth was now the great thing necessary, Stanton got the docile animal to lie down and nestle up close to the man’s body. It was indeed a strange sight, and one which called up feelings which I will not readily forget, to see a huge dog, in faithful obedience to his master’s orders, lying close to an apparently dead man! One could almost imagine that the intelligent animal knew the effect its conduct would produce; be this as it may, the increased warmth soon became apparent. The man opened his eyes and drew a long breath. I at once gave him some more brandy, and a better color began to appear in his face. A few moments after, he suddenly exclaimed: ‘Where is my life-belt?’ I told him it was all right, having been taken off previously. He then said: ‘Could some one go round the beach? Some of my mates might be washed up.’ In answer to questions he said his name was Bob Ponting, that he had been cook on board the steamer _Alert_, and that she had foundered the previous day when about three miles off the coast. From the weak state our patient was in we dared not question him further, but some of us went along the beach, without, however, finding or seeing any traces of his mates. About two hours from the time Ponting was found additional assistance came. Constable Nolan, of Sorrento, brought a party of men in a buggy. They also brought a stretcher, on which we placed the poor man, and between us we carried him up the cliffs and across to the buggy. It was no easy task, even with half a dozen willing hands, as the cliffs at this point are very steep, and after getting to the top the scrub is very thick and hard to walk through.