The sandbanks, are isolated, dreary spots, the highest portion
but 2 or 3 feet above the level reached by spring tides. A cutter--THE
DOLPHIN--with a crew of aboriginals, in charge of a couple of Kanakas, was
anchored at the shoal, and as the cyclone worked up, the Kanakas decided
that the one and only bid for life was to run before it to the mainland.
It was a forlorn hope--so forlorn that four or five of the aboriginals
declined to take part in it, deeming it safer to trust to the sandbank,
which they imagined could never be entirely swept by the besoms of the
sea. The cutter fled before the storm, only to capsize in the breakers
off the mouth of the Johnstone River. Clinging to the wreck until it
drifted a few miles south, the Kanakas and crew battled through the waves
and eventually reached the shore. Of those who placed their faith on the
sandbank not one was spared. The seas raced over it, pounded and
flattened it. The men upon it were unconsidered trifles.
The tall and handsome Scandinavian whose fortune thus assailed was at his
home with his wife and children and brother. His yacht--THE MAUD--in the
height of the storm, began to drag her anchor.
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