We made our way back to the fire
and put the wood on so that it blazed at once. Then we saw that the tent
had fallen over and lay in a tangled heap upon the ground.
We picked it up, and during the process tripped more than once and caught
our feet in sand.
"It's those sand-funnels," exclaimed the Swede, when the tent was up again
and the firelight lit up the ground for several yards about us. "And look
at the size of them!"
All round the tent and about the fireplace where we had seen the moving
shadows there were deep funnel-shaped hollows in the sand, exactly similar
to the ones we had already found over the island, only far bigger and
deeper, beautifully formed, and wide enough in some instances to admit the
whole of my foot and leg.
Neither of us said a word. We both knew that sleep was the safest thing we
could do, and to bed we went accordingly without further delay, having
first thrown sand on the fire and taken the provision sack and the paddle
inside the tent with us. The canoe, too, we propped in such a way at the
end of the tent that our feet touched it, and the least motion would
disturb and wake us.
In case of emergency, too, we again went to bed in our clothes, ready for a
sudden start.
It was my firm intention to lie awake all night and watch, but the
exhaustion of nerves and body decreed otherwise, and sleep after a while
came over me with a welcome blanket of oblivion. The fact that my companion
also slept quickened its approach.
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