He remembered the spare anchor-chain, new and black-painted, that hung under the house suspended from the floor- beams, and ordered it to be used on the hospital as well.

Other boys brought the coffin, a grotesque patchwork of packing-cases, and under his directions they laid Hughie Drummond in it.

Half a dozen boys carried it down the beach, while he rode on the back of another, his arms around the black's neck, one hand clutching a prayer-book.
While he read the service, the blacks gazed apprehensively at the dark line on the water, above which rolled and tumbled the racing clouds.

The first breath of the wind, faint and silken, tonic with life, fanned through his dry-baked body as he finished reading.

Then came the second breath of the wind, an angry gust, as the shovels worked rapidly, filling in the sand.