of the horizontal position, their peculiar shape giving them the appearance of diving. Whales, too, frequently appeared close at hand, sending forth from their blow-holes a column of foam-like breath--the spray which they forced up falling round in graceful jets. The doctor explained that the white spout which appeared was the warm breath of the animal, and not, as the sailors often suppose, a mass of foam forced from its nostrils. The whales were, however, too formidable antagonists to attack, even had one come near enough to allow Paul Lizard to send his harpoon into its back. "No, no," he observed; "I know what I am about. We should get but little change out of one of those creatures if we interfered with it. Much more likely to have the boat capsized or sent by its flukes to the bottom." The doctor had now again recourse to his still to obtain a supply of water. One of the casks was always left full, in case of emergency, should bad weather come on, and it be impossible to keep the stove alight. Again they were on a short allowance of food; the wet flour had become perfectly mouldy, and the biscuits were in very little better condition. Starving people only could have eaten them. One evening, as the sun was setting, a blue hillock appeared rising out of the eastern horizon. At first it was so faint that few on board believed it to be land. Harry hoped that it might prove one of the rocky islets of which he was in search. All he could tell from the chart was its existence. Nothing was said about its size or height. He stood towards it, but the wind was light, and little progress was made. The last pieces of seal blubber had been expended, and but one small cask of water remained. There was charcoal only sufficient to cook breakfast for the next day. Every one was suffering more or less from thirst. "Cheer up, friends," cried Mrs Rumbelow, whose throat, though she did not say so, was as if a hot iron had been thrust down it. "Yonder is the land, and we there may hope to find water and provisions of some sort." The night was very dark, and anxious as Harry was to get on shore, he was afraid of running on some unknown reef, or passing the rock, should he continue his course. He therefore hove the boat to, and, as many sailors have had to do, longed for daylight. Willy, that night dreamed of home more than he had done before, and of the loved ones there. Sometimes, too, thoughts of his late shipmates came into his head, and they appeared to perform a fantastic drama before him. "Harry," he exclaimed, starting up, "what has happened? You don't know what dreadful things I have been thinking about."