When my boat floated I fairly screamed aloud with wild delight, and sympathetic Bruno jumped and yelped in unison.
But when all my preparations were complete, and I had rowed out a little way, I made a discovery that nearly drove me crazy.

I found I had launched the boat in a sort of lagoon several miles in extent, barred by a crescent of coral rocks, over which _I could not possibly drag my craft into the open sea_.

Although the water covered the reefs at high tide it was never of sufficient depth to allow me to sail the boat over them.

I tried every possible opening, but was always arrested at some point or other.

After the first acute paroxysm of despair--beating my head with my clenched fists--I consoled myself with the thought that when the high tides came, they would perhaps lift the boat over that terrible barrier.
I waited, and waited, and waited, but alas! only to be disappointed.