CHAPTER VII.
THE WRECK ON THE SHORE.
Tom Dawson's discovery filled us with amazement and satisfaction: amazement because all of us had thought that the schooner lay at the bottom of the China Sea and satisfaction for the reason that all thought we might now have a chance to obtain such of our belongings as still remained on board of the vessel.
"You are sure it is the Dart?" I queried, as the first mate took another long look.
"Sure, my lad; I know that craft among a thousand," was the answer.
"It's great news," put in Matt Gory. "Oi haven't much om board, but phat Oi have Oi want, especially that ould dudeen of mine which same Oi have smoked these fifteen years." Since landing he had bewailed the loss of his pipe a dozen times.
"If the Dart is up to the north of here, the party that went that way must have discovered her too," I said, as Tom Dawson descended the tree.
"That's likely, lad. Still, now we have located her, there is no use in staying here. We
