‘The schooner must have been dropped gently on the beach by some good fairy! There was no such luck as this with Robinson Crusoe nor the Swiss family.’

Young Jack grew stranger in his manner every day. Although he helped his brother in many ways, yet he rarely replied to a question, and turned away his eyes whenever he was looked at in the face. Briant was seriously uneasy at all this. Being his senior by some four years, he had always had a good deal of influence over him, and ever since they had come on board the schooner he had noticed that Jack seemed like a boy afflicted with remorse. Had he done anything that he dared not tell his brother? Several times Briant noticed that his eyes were red from crying. Was Jack going to be seriously ill? If so, how could they look after him? Here was trouble in store! And so Briant asked his brother quietly what ailed him.

‘There’s nothing the matter with me.’ answered Jack. And that was all he could get from him.

During the 11th and 15th of March, Donagan, Wilcox, Webb, and Cross went shooting rock pigeons. They always kept together, and it was obvious that they wished to form a clique apart from the rest. Gordon felt anxious about this; he saw that trouble must come of it, and when an opportunity offered he spoke about it and tried to make the discontented ones understand how necessary union was for the good of the community. But Donagan replied to his advances so coldly that he thought it unreasonable to insist; though he did not despair of destroying the germs of dissension which might have deplorable results, for events might tend to bring about an understanding where advice failed.

While the excursion to the north of the bay was stopped by the misty weather, Donagan and his friends had plenty of sport. He was really an excellent shot and he was very proud of his skill, and despised such contrivances as traps, nets, and snares, in which Wilcox delighted. Webb was a good hand with the gun, but did not pretend to equal Donagan. Cross had very little of the sacred fire, and contented himself with praising his cousin’s prowess. Fan, the dog, distinguished herself highly, and made no hesitation in jumping into the waves in retrieving the somewhat miscellaneous victims of the guns. Moko refused to have anything to do with the cormorants, gulls, seamews, and grebes, but there were quite enough rock pigeons as well as geese and ducks to serve his purpose. The geese were of the bernicle kind, and from the direction they took when the report of the gun scared them away, it was supposed that they lived in the interior of the country.

Donagan shot a few of those oyster-catchers which live on limpets, cockles, and mussels. In fact there was plenty of choice, although Moko found it no easy matter to get rid of the oily taste, and did not always succeed to the general satisfaction. But, as Gordon said, the boys need not be too particular, for the most must be made of the provisions on board.

On the 15th of March the weather appeared favourable for the excursion to the cape, which was to solve the problem as to island or continent. During the night the sky cleared up the mist which the calm of the preceding days had accumulated. A land-breeze swept it away in a few hours. The sun’s bright rays gilded the crest of the cliff. It looked as if in the afternoon the eastern horizon would be clearly visible; and that was the horizon on which their hopes depended. If the line of water continued along it, the land must be an island, and the only hope of rescue was from a ship.

The idea of this visit to the end of the bay, first occurred, it will be remembered, to Briant, and he had resolved to go off alone. He would gladly have been accompanied by Gordon, but he did not feel justified in leaving his companions without any one to look after them.

On the evening of the 15th, finding the barometer remained steady, he told Gordon he would be off at dawn next morning. Ten or eleven miles, there and back, was nothing to a healthy lad who did not mind fatigue. The day would be enough for the journey, and he would be sure to get back before night.

Briant was off at daybreak without the others knowing he had gone. His weapons were only a stick and a revolver, so as to be prepared for any wild beast that came along, although Donagan had not come across any in his shooting expeditions. With these he also took one of the schooner’s telescopes—a splendid instrument of great range and clearness of vision. In a bag hung to his belt he took a little biscuit and salt meat, and a flask of brandy, so as to be prepared in case any adventure delayed his return.

Walking at a good pace, he followed the trend of the coast along the inner line of reefs, his road marked by a border of seaweed still wet with the retiring tide. In an hour he had passed the extreme point reached by Donagan in his foray after the rock pigeons. The birds had nothing to fear from him now. His object was to push on and reach the foot of the cape as soon as possible. The sky was clear of cloud, and if the mist came back in the afternoon, his journey might be useless.

During the first hour he kept on as fast as he could walk, and got over half his journey. If no obstacle hindered him, he expected to reach the promontory by eight o’clock.