It seemed a graver thing to venture on this place of ambushes; and when I leaped into the sea the second time it was with a quaking in my soul.
I secured myself as at first, and groped among the waving tangle.

All that met my touch was cold and soft and gluey.

The thicket was alive with crabs and lobsters, trundling to and fro lopsidedly, and I had to harden my heart against the horror of their carrion neighbourhood.

On all sides I could feel the grain and the clefts of hard, living stone; no planks, no iron, not a sign of any wreck; the _Espirito Santo_ was not there.

I remember I had almost a sense of relief in my disappointment, and I was about ready to leave go, when something happened that sent me to the surface with my heart in my mouth.