“Are we on an island?” murmured the sailor.

“At any rate, it seems to be big enough,” replied the lad.

“An island, ever so big, is an island all the same!” said Pencroft.

But this important question could not yet be answered.  A more perfect survey had to be made to settle the point.  As to the land itself, island or continent, it appeared fertile, agreeable in its aspect, and varied in its productions.

“This is satisfactory,” observed Pencroft; “and in our misfortune, we must thank Providence for it.”

“God be praised!” responded Herbert, whose pious heart was full of gratitude to the Author of all things.

Pencroft and Herbert examined for some time the country on which they had been cast; but it was difficult to guess after so hasty an inspection what the future had in store for them.

They then returned, following the southern crest of the granite platform, bordered by a long fringe of jagged rocks, of the most whimsical shapes.  Some hundreds of birds lived there nestled in the holes of the stone; Herbert, jumping over the rocks, startled a whole flock of these winged creatures.

“Oh!” cried he, “those are not gulls nor sea-mews!”

“What are they then?” asked Pencroft.

“Upon my word, one would say they were pigeons!”

“Just so, but these are wild or rock pigeons.  I recognize them by the double band of black on the wing, by the white tail, and by their slate-colored plumage.  But if the rock-pigeon is good to eat, its eggs must be excellent, and we will soon see how many they may have left in their nests!”

“We will not give them time to hatch, unless it is in the shape of an omelet!” replied Pencroft merrily.

“But what will you make your omelet in?” asked Herbert; “in your hat?”

“Well!” replied the sailor, “I am not quite conjuror enough for that; we must come down to eggs in the shell, my boy, and I will undertake to despatch the hardest!”

Pencroft and Herbert attentively examined the cavities in the granite, and they really found eggs in some of the hollows.  A few dozen being collected, were packed in the sailor’s handkerchief, and as the time when the tide would be full was approaching, Pencroft and Herbert began to redescend towards the watercourse.  When they arrived there, it was an hour after midday.  The tide had already turned.  They must now avail themselves of the ebb to take the wood to the mouth.  Pencroft did not intend to let the raft go away in the current without guidance, neither did he mean to embark on it himself to steer it.  But a sailor is never at a loss when there is a question of cables or ropes, and Pencroft rapidly twisted a cord, a few fathoms long, made of dry creepers.  This vegetable cable was fastened to the after-part of the raft, and the sailor held it in his hand while Herbert, pushing off the raft with a long pole, kept it in the current.  This succeeded capitally.  The enormous load of wood drifted down the current.  The bank was very equal; there was no fear that the raft would run aground, and before two o’clock they arrived at the river’s mouth, a few paces from the Chimneys.