By four o'clock the white line marking the surf upon the outer reef was visible. By the aid of glasses it could be seen that the lower portion of the island was much-wooded, coco-nut palms predominating. The upper land was well covered with grass, but the higher peaks were bare and rugged, indicating their volcanic origin. Five minutes later Harborough anticipated himself by coming on deck. He had slept the sleep of mental and bodily exhaustion, and although he still looked tired he had lost the grey, haggard expression that had been his constant companion for the last ten days. "We'll have to approach from the eastern side," he remarked. "There is a passage on this side, but I don't care to risk it. The lead's precious little use in these parts." He swept the island with his binoculars, and then turned abruptly upon Bobby Beverley. "Tell Swaine to go aloft," he ordered. "Conning the ship from the cross-trees is the best means of getting across the bar. Mr. Villiers, see that there's a kedge aft ready to let go. You might as well stow canvas. The wind will be heading us round the corner." While these orders were being executed O'Loghlin went below to start up his beloved motors. He usually spent the greater part of his waking hours below tinkering with the engines. Even in the Red Sea and in the sweltering heat of the Malacca Straits he kept up the performance, and the hitherto-neglected engines were now a picture of polished and easy-running mechanism. Keeping within a distance of two miles from the reef, the _Titania_ skirted the south-eastern sides of the island. Although a careful watch was maintained there were no signs of human habitation ashore, except a ruined hut that might have been built by the crew of a trading-vessel during their search for bêche-de-mer. "Good thing there are no natives," remarked Harborough "They'd only tend to complicate matters. We wouldn't dare leave any stores on the beach; they'd vanish. Right-o, Swaine; up aloft with you." Like a cat Swaine swarmed up aloft, hand over hand, by means of the throat-halyards, for the _Titania_ was not fitted with ratlines. Barely had he settled himself on the cross-trees when he shouted: "Vessel at anchor in the lagoon, sir!" "By Jove!" ejaculated Villiers, and without expressing his thoughts he, too, went aloft. Beyond a low-lying spur of land fringed with an irregular line of coco-nut palms, he could discern the upper parts of the hull and the mast and funnel of a steamer. She had evidently only recently arrived, for smoke was issuing from her funnel. "It's the _Zug_, sir," he announced.