To this one object each man gave his entire energy, his mind, and his body.  Steadily went the pumps, steadily the captain kept his eyes fixed upon the approaching headland, and upon the waters beyond, and steadily, little by little, the Miranda sunk lower and lower into the sea.

At last the headland was reached, and on its ocean side the surf beat high.  Keeping well away to avoid shoals or a bar, the Miranda passed the southern point of the headland, and slowly sailed into a little bay.  To the left lay the rocky ridge which formed the headland, and less than half a mile away could be seen the shining sands of the smooth beach.  Toward this beach the Miranda was now headed, every sail upon her set, and every nerve upon her strung to its tightest.  They went in upon a flood-tide.  If he had believed that the brig would float so long, Captain Horn would have waited an hour until the tide was high, so that he might run his vessel farther up upon the beach, but he could not wait, and with a strong west wind he steered straight for the sands.

There was a hissing under the bows, and a shock which ran through the vessel from stem to stern, and then grinding and grinding and grinding until all motion ceased, and a gentle surf began to curl itself against the stern of the brig.

Every halliard was let go, and down came every sail by the run, and then the brig Miranda ended this voyage, and all others, upon the shore of a desolate Patagonian island.

Between the vessel and dry land there was about a hundred feet of water, but this would be much less when the tide went out.  Beyond the beach was a stretch of sandy hillocks, or dunes, and back of these was a mass of scrubby thicket, with here and there a low tree, and still farther back was seen the beginning of what might be a forest.  It was a different coast from the desolate shores of Peru.

Burke came aft to the captain.

“Here we are, sir,” said he, “and what’s to happen next?”

“Happen!” exclaimed the captain.  “We must not wait for things to happen!  What we’ve got to do is to step around lively, and get the gold out of this brig before the wind changes and drives her out into deep water.”

Burke put his hands into his pockets.  “Is there any good of it, captain?” said he.  “Will we be any better off with the bags on that shore than we would be if they were sunk in this bay?”

“Good of it!” exclaimed the captain.  “Don’t talk that way, Burke.  If we can get it on shore, there is a chance for us.  But if it goes to the bottom, out in deep water, there is none.  There is no time to talk now.  What we must do is to go to work.”

“Yes,” said Burke, “whatever happens, it is always work.  But I’m in for it, as long as I hold together.  But we’ve got to look out that some of those black fellows don’t drop over the bow, and give us the slip.”

“They’ll starve if they do,” said the captain, “for not a biscuit, or a drop of water, goes ashore until the gold is out of the hold.”