The island thus reached was three fourths of a mile in diameter. They landed in a tumultuous sea, which only a life-boat could survive. There was no good hiding-place from the storm, which was increasing. They were completely wet by the spray, and ready to faint with cold and hunger. In a crevice of the rock a fire was kindled, the saucepan half filled with sea water, and an eider duck John had knocked over with his oar was put into it to stew. To this was added four biscuit from the bread barrel. The hot meal thus cooked refreshed them, but it was their only refreshment. Bonsall and Godfrey crept under the sail taken from the boat, and, from sheer exhaustion, fell asleep. John and Dr. Hayes sought warmth in a run about the island. Dr. Hayes wandered to a rocky point, which commanded a view of the channel between the island and the "Hope." He watched every object, expecting to see her and her crew adrift. He had not watched long before a dark object was seen upon a whirling ice-raft. After a close and careful second look, he saw that it was John. He called but received no answer. John's raft now touched the floe and away he went, jumping the fearful cracks, and disappearing in the darkness. What could inspire so reckless an adventure? Had he seen the "Hope" in peril, and was this a manly effort to save her and his comrades? He was going in the direction in which he had left them. Bonsall and Godfrey were soon frozen out of their comfortless tent, and joined Dr. Hayes on the rocky point. They took places of observation a short distance apart, and watched with intense anxiety both for the "Hope" and John. The morning came, the sea grew less wild, and the wind subsided, but nothing was seen of the boat. Leaving Dr. Hayes and his party thus watching on the island, we will glance at the experience of those of us who were left in the camp.