They would fain have had a fire to dry their dripping garments: for the night had grown chilly under the influence of the fog. The old sailor had his flint, steel, and tinder--the latter still safe in its water-tight tin box; but there was no fuel to be found near. The spar, even could they have broken it up, was still floating, or stranded, in the shoal water--more than a mile to seaward. In the absence of a fire they adopted the only other mode they could think of to get a little of the water out of their clothes. They stripped themselves to the skin, wrung out each article separately; and then, giving each a good shake, put them on again--leaving it to the natural warmth of their bodies to complete the process of drying. By the time they had finished this operation, the mist had become sensibly thinner; and the moon, suddenly emerging from under a cloud, enabled them to obtain a better view of the shore upon which they had set foot. Landward, as far as they could see, there appeared to be nothing but white sand--shining like silver under the light of the moon. Up and down the coast the same landscape could be dimly distinguished. It was not a level surface that was thus covered with sand, but a conglomeration of hillocks and ridges, blending into each other and forming a labyrinth, that seemed to stretch interminably on all sides--except towards the sea itself. It occurred to them to climb to the highest of the hillocks. From its summit they would have a better view of the country beyond; and perhaps discover a place suitable for an encampment--perhaps some timber might then come into view--from which they would be able to obtain a few sticks. On attempting to scale the "dune," they found that their wading was not yet at an end. Though no longer in the water, they sank to their knees at every step, in soft yielding sand. The ascent of the hillock, though scarce a hundred feet high, proved exceedingly toilsome--much more so than wading knee-deep in water--but they floundered on, and at length reached the summit. To the right, to the left, in front of them, far as the eye could reach, nothing but hills and ridges of sand--that appeared under the moonlight of a whiteness approaching to that of snow. In fact, it would not have been difficult to fancy that the country was covered with a heavy coat of snow--as often seen in Sweden, or the Northern parts of Scotland--drifted into "wreaths," and spurred hillocks of every imaginable form. It was pretty, but soon became painful from its monotony; and the eyes of that shipwrecked quartette were even glad to turn once more to the scarce less monotonous blue of the ocean. Inland, they could perceive other sand-hills--higher than that to which they had climbed--and long crested "combings," with deep valleys between; but not one object to gladden their sight--nothing that offered promise of either food, drink, or shelter.