"There appears to be no use in this, comrades," said Browne, at last; "had we not better just let her go upon the reef, and take our chance of being able to get to the shore?" "O, no!" exclaimed Arthur, earnestly, "that is too desperate." "We shall be so completely exhausted that we shan't be able to make an effort for our lives, when at last we are carried into the surf," answered Browne, "and we must come to that sooner or later." "I hope not--there is reason to hope not," rejoined Arthur, "but if so, we may as well be exhausted, as fresh; no strength will be of any avail; we shall be crushed and mangled upon the rocks; or if by any possibility some of us should reach the shore, what is to become of our poor, sick Johnny?" "I will look after him," said Browne, "I will pledge myself that he shan't be lost, unless I am too." "Let us hold out a few moments yet," implored Arthur; "I will take your oar; you are the only one who has not been relieved." "No," said Browne, "you had better keep the helm; I can stand it a while longer, and I will pull until we are swept upon the reef; if you all think that the best plan." It was barely possible that if we should now act as Browne proposed, we might be carried clear off the reef into the lagoon beyond, for we were opposite a sunken patch, upon which there was more water than at other places. Failing of this, the boat would inevitably be dashed to pieces; but still, if not bruised and disabled among the rocks, or carried back by the return waves, we might be able to reach the smooth water inside the reef, when it would be easy to swim ashore. But to most of us, the attempt seemed too desperate to be thought of, except as a last resort; and we preferred to toil at the oars as long as our strength should last in the hope of discovering an inlet. Arthur, on whose skill and judgment we all relied, steered still farther out, and for a while we seemed to make head against the swell and the current.