“Done very well,” said Bevis; “ever so much better than I did. Here.” Mark slung his bundle, and they paddled back to the shallow water, Bevis towing his soaked dress. They stood up in the shallow and rested a few minutes, and Bevis fastened his bundle to his plank just in front of where he sat. “Come on.” Off he went again, following the other channel this time. It wound round a bank grown with sedges, and then led straight into a broader and open channel, the same they had come down in the boat. They recognised it directly, and paddled faster. “Hark! there’s Pan,” said Mark. As they came near the island, Pan either scented them or heard a splashing, for he set up his bark again. He had choked himself silent before. “Pan! Pan!” shouted Bevis, whistling. Yow--wow--wow! “Hurrah!” “Hurrah!” They ran up on the shore of New Formosa, and began to dance and caper, kicking up their heels. Yow-wow--wow-wow! “Pan! I’m coming,” said Bevis, and began to run, but stopped suddenly. Thistles in the grass and trailing briars stayed him. He put on his wet boots, and then picking his way round, reached the hut. He let Pan loose. The spaniel crouched at his feet and whimpered, and followed him, crawling on the ground. Bevis patted him, but he could not leap up as usual, the desertion had quite broken his spirit for the time. Bevis went into the hut, and just as he was, with nothing on but his boots, took his journal and wrote down “Wednesday.” “There,” said he to Mark, who had now come, more slowly, for he carried the two bundles, “there, I’ve put down the day, else we shall lose our reckoning, don’t you see.” They were soon dressed. Bevis put on the change he had provided in the store-room, and spread his wet clothes out to dry in the sun. Pan crept from one to the other; he could not get enough patting, he wanted to be continually spoken to and stroked. He would not go a yard from them. “What’s the time?” said Bevis, “my watch has stopped.” The water had stopped it. “Five minutes to twelve,” said Mark. “You must write down, ‘We landed on the island at noon.’” “So I will to-night. My watch won’t go; the water is in it.” “Lucky mine did not got wet too.” “Hang yours up in the hut, else perhaps it will get stopped somehow, then we shan’t know the time.” Mark hung his watch up in the hut, and caught sight of the wooden bottle. “The first thing people do is to refresh themselves,” he said. “Let’s have a glass of ale: splendid thing when you’re shipwrecked--” “A libation to the gods,” said Bevis. “That’s the thing; you pour it out on the ground because you’ve escaped.” “O!” said Mark, opening the bottle. “Now just look! And I filled it to the brim so that I could hardly get the cork in.” “John,” said Bevis. “The rascal.” “Ships’ provisions are always scamped,” said Bevis; “somebody steals half, and puts in rotten biscuits. It’s quite proper. Why, there’s a quart gone.”