The ship went ashore stern foremost, upright as a die and riding the top of the great wave like a swan. It tucked her into a cove between two elevated points of rock and then receded and left her perched there. There was no crash of splintering timbers—no sound at all. The foremast swayed, cracked off and tumbled over the side; but the other masts stood firmly and it seemed to our wondering eyes as if some monster had grabbed the ship from the sea and set it high on the rocks to dry. Our oarsmen had plenty to do just then to keep us from swamping, for although we were not directly in the track of the monster wave we were near enough to feel a portion of its resistless power and were nearly sucked in upon the reefs ourselves. But I shouted as frantically as a madman, and from the other boats, which were at the right of us, arose a hearty cheer that made our seamen pause long enough to stare over their shoulders at the marvelous sight. Then they cheered too, for we all loved the dear old _Seagull_. Instead of a wreck—the fatal smash-up that had seemed imminent and was expected by all—the good ship was suddenly rendered safe from further harm, for no other wave that followed was powerful enough to dislodge her. Nux and Bryonia allowed the captain to sit up to view the wonderful sight, and my father stared until his eyes bulged from their sockets. He said nothing, however, but turned his attention to our personal dilemma, for there was no surety that we could manage to gain the shore alive. A forbidding line of rocky reefs faced us and should we attempt to land among them our frail boats would be instantly dashed to pieces. Bryonia, who had stood up to look at the ship when he released my father, remained for some time upright, shading his eyes with his hand and peering attentively at the coast. Presently he gave a grunt and muttered something to Nux in their native language. I caught the words, for long ago they had taught me, merely as a pastime, their peculiar dialect. “Faytan!” he said. “Look, Ketaha, is it not so?” Ketaha was Nux’s original name, never used since Uncle Naboth had picked him up. He too stared at the coast line steadily, and then nodded his head. “It may be Faytan, my Louiki. Perhaps we are wrong. But it surely looks like Faytan.” “Do you know this island, then?” I asked, speaking their own language. “If it is Faytan, we have been very near to it; but we have never landed upon the island,” replied Bry. “The Pearl People live in Faytan, and they are the enemies of all the other islanders—of all the world. If it is Faytan, we are risking our lives to land there.” “It is risking our lives to try to keep afloat in this sea,” I replied. “Our men cannot fight these waves for long, Bry.” He turned away and whispered to Nux. After a brief confab the latter said to us in English: “Jus’ try to turn dat point o’ rock yonder, Cap’n Steele. Den I guess you find a cove to land, where dere am no rocks.”