Never was daylight more anxiously awaited. It came at last; a faint, grey light in the east, a climbing flush of rose-colour, a host of crimson wavelets on a golden sea. And, as soon as the darkness disappeared, Percival found that his conjecture was a correct one. He was not alone. There were others beside himself who had won their way to even safer positions than his own. Portions of the reef on which the ship had struck were now to be plainly seen above the sea-level; it was plain that they were rarely touched by the salt water, for there was an attempt at vegetation in one or two places. And beyond the reef Percival saw land, and land that it would be easy enough to reach. He turned to look for the remains of the _Arizona_, but there was little to be seen. The tops of her masts were visible only in the deep water near the reef. Spars, barrels, articles of furniture, could here and there be distinguished; nothing of value nor of interest. Percival determined to try for the shore. But first he would see whether he could help the other men whom he had discerned at a little distance from him on a higher portion of the reef. He crept out to them, feeling his way cautiously, and not sure whether he might not be swept off his feet by the force of the waves. To his surprise, when he reached the two men, he found that they were two of the survivors from the wreck of the _Falcon_. One of them was Thomas Jackson, and the other was Mackay, the steerage passenger. "It's plain you weren't born to be drowned," said Percival, addressing Jackson, familiarly. "No, sir, it don't seem like it," returned the man. "There's one or two more that have saved themselves by swimming, too, I fancy. We'd better make land while we can, sir." "Your friend's not able to help himself much, is he?" said Percival, with a sharp glance at the bearded face of the steerage passenger. "Swims like a duck when he's all right, sir; but at present he's got a broken leg. Fainted just now; he'll be better presently. I wouldn't have liked to leave him behind." "We'll haul him ashore between us," said Percival. It was more easily said than done; but the task was accomplished at last. Thomas Jackson was of a wiry frame: Percival's trained muscles (he had been in the boats at Oxford) stood him in good stead. They reached the mainland, carrying the steerage passenger with them; for the poor man, not yet half-recovered from the effects of exposure and privation, and now suffering from a fracture of the bone just above the ankle, was certainly not in a fit state to help himself. On the island they found a few cocoa-nut trees: under one of these they laid their burden, and then returned to the shore to see whether there was any other castaway whom they could assist.