“Perhaps, although I never saw such a life raft on the _Vendee_--if it is a life raft. It looks more to me like some washed-away lumber. Perhaps we struck another ship--in fact, I am almost sure we did. If she was a lumber craft, this must be from her.” Another spell of silence ensued, during which both strained their eyes to see through the driving storm. Nothing but the waves met their gaze, carrying them upward at one moment as if to the top of a high hill, and then letting them sink and sink into a hollow until it looked as if they should never rise again. It was a time never to be forgotten, and each boy breathed a silent prayer that he might be brought through this great peril in safety. Thus the minutes slipped by, until suddenly Mark gave a cry. “A light! A sky-rocket!” He was right, from a great distance they saw the rocket from the lumber vessel flare out through the storm. Then followed a brightness lower down, but this Bengal light was not so distinct. “Can it be the steamer in distress?” they asked each other. “Looks as if something was on fire,” said Mark. He tried to stand up on the lumber, Frank in the meantime holding him fast by the ankles. But now the raft went into a hollow, and when it came up again the light was gone. Slowly the hours went by and the storm gradually subsided. The boys found that the chain was fastened tightly around the lumber and they clung to this and waited for daybreak. They did not mind being wet to the skin, for the night was warm, but each was thoroughly exhausted by his struggles. At last came the light, low down in the east, and gradually the day came over the rim of the sea--dull and heavy and bringing little of cheer. Both stood up and gazed around eagerly. Not a sail of any kind in sight. It was a trying moment, and both had hard work to command their feelings. Here they were, cast away on the broad bosom of the Caribbean Sea, miles from land, and with no ship to pick them up. “And nothing to eat or to drink,” said Frank. “Oh, Mark, what shall we do?” “I’m sure I don’t know, Frank. All we can do is to remain on this pile of lumber and trust to luck.” “We’ll die of hunger and thirst. I’m thirsty already.” “So am I, but we had better not think of that.” As the day grew a little brighter they continued to watch for the ship. Once Mark thought he saw a vessel far to the eastward, but he was not sure. An hour after this Frank gave a cry. “Another raft, and somebody is on it!” Frank was right, close at hand another raft was floating, and on top of this lay the figure of a man, either dead or asleep. “Hullo there!” cried Mark. “Hullo! Ahoy!” At first the figure on the raft did not stir, but as the lumber came closer the man sat up and gazed around wildly. On catching sight of the two boys he gave a faint cry in a language that was strange to them. “He must be a castaway like ourselves,” said Mark.