The youngsters cannot come with us, and we cannot leave them all on the wreck. Donagan and Briant may go, and two others may go with them—’

‘I’ll go! ‘said Wilcox.

‘So will I!’ said Service.

‘Very well,’ said Gordon. ‘ Four is quite enough. If you are too long coming back we can send a few others to your assistance, while the rest remain with the schooner. Don’t forget that this is our camp, our house, our home, and we can only leave it when we are sure that we are on a continent.’

‘We are on an island,’ said Briant ‘For the last time I say so!’

‘That we shall see!’ replied Donagan.

Gordon’s sensible advice had had its effect in calming the discord. Obviously— and Briant saw it clearly enough— it was advisable to push through the central forest and reach the line of water. If it was a sea to the eastward, there might be other islands separated from them by a channel they might cross; and if they were on an island of an archipelago, surely it was better to know it before taking any steps on which their safety might depend. It was certain that there was no land to the west right away to New Zealand. The only chance of reaching an inhabited country was by journeying towards the sun-rising.

But it would not be wise to attempt such an expedition except in fine weather. As Gordon had just said, it would not do to act like children, but like men. In the circumstances in which they were placed, with the future so threatening, if the intelligence of these boys did not develop quickly, if the levity and inconsistency natural at their age carried them away, or if disunion was allowed amongst them, the position of things would become critical. And it was for this reason that Gordon resolved to do everything to maintain order amongst his comrades.

However eager Donagan and Briant might be to start, a change of the weather obliged them to wait. A cold rain had fallen since the morning. The falling of the barometer indicated a period of squally weather, of which it was impossible to predict the duration. It would have been too risky to venture out under such circumstances.

But was this to be regretted? Assuredly not. That all were in a hurry to know if the sea surrounded them, may be imagined. But even if they were sure of being on a continent, were they likely to venture into a country they knew nothing about, and that when the rainy season was coming on? Suppose the journey was to extend to hundreds of miles, could they bear the fatigues? Would even the strongest among them reach the end? No! to carry out such an expedition with success, it must be put off till the days were long, and the inclemency of winter overpast. And so they would have to content themselves with spending the rainy season at the wreck.

Gordon had meanwhile been trying to find out in what part of the ocean they had been wrecked. His atlas contained a series of maps of the Pacific. In tracing the course from Auckland to the American coast he found that the nearest islands passed to the north were the Society Islands, Easter Island, and the island of Juan Fernandez, on which Selkirk—a real Crusoe—had passed so much of his life. To the south there was not an island up to the boundary of the Antarctic Ocean. To the east there were only the Archipelagoes of the Chiloe Islands and Madre de Dios, along the coast of Patagonia, and lower down were those about the Straits of Magellan and Tierra del Fuego, which are lashed by the terrible sea round Cape Horn.

If the schooner had been cast on one of these uninhabited islands off the Patagonian pampas, there would be hundreds of miles to be traversed to reach Chili or the Argentine Republic. And the boys would have to act with great circumspection if they were not to perish miserably in crossing the unknown.

So thought Gordon. Briant and Baxter looked at the matter in the same way. And doubtless Donagan and the others would, in the end, agree with them.

The scheme of exploring the eastern coast was not given up, but during the next fortnight it was impossible to put it into execution. The weather was abominable, nothing but rain from morning to night, and violent squalls. The way through the forest would have been impracticable; and the expedition had to be postponed, notwithstanding the keen desire to unravel the mystery of continent or island.

During these stormy days the boys remained at the wreck, but they were not idle. They were constantly at work making good the damage done to the yacht by the inclement weather, for owing to the wet the planks began to give, and the deck ceased to be water-tight. In places the rain would come in through the joints where the caulking had been torn away, and this had to be made good without delay. Repairs were also needed to stop not only the water-ways, but the air-ways opened in the hull.