A sort of uneasiness had seized Pencroft upon the subject of his vessel.  Should the island be inhabited after all, and should some one have taken possession of her?  But he shrugged his shoulders at such an unreasonable supposition.  At any rate the sailor was not sorry to go to breakfast on board.  The road already trodden was not long, scarcely a mile.  They set out on their walk, gazing into the wood and thickets through which goats and pigs fled in hundreds.

Twenty minutes after leaving the hut Pencroft and his companions reached the western coast of the island, and saw the “Bonadventure” held fast by her anchor, which was buried deep in the sand.

Pencroft could not restrain a sigh of satisfaction.  After all this vessel was his child, and it is the right of fathers to be often uneasy when there is no occasion for it.

They returned on board, breakfasted, so that it should not be necessary to dine until very late; then the repast being ended, the exploration was continued and conducted with the most minute care.  Indeed, it was very probable that the only inhabitant of the island had perished.  It was therefore more for the traces of a dead than of a living man that Pencroft and his companions searched.  But their searches were vain, and during the half of that day they sought to no purpose among the thickets of trees which covered the islet.  There was then scarcely any doubt that, if the castaway was dead, no trace of his body now remained, but that some wild beast had probably devoured it to the last bone.

“We will set off to-morrow at daybreak,” said Pencroft to his two companions, as about two o’clock they were resting for a few minutes under the shade of a clump of firs.

“I should think that we might without scruple take the utensils which belonged to the castaway,” added Herbert.

“I think so, too,” returned Gideon Spilett, “and these arms and tools will make up the stores of Granite House.  The supply of powder and shot is also most important.”

“Yes,” replied Pencroft, “but we must not forget to capture a couple or two of those pigs, of which Lincoln Island is destitute.”

“Nor to gather those seeds,” added Herbert, “which will give us all the vegetables of the Old and the New Worlds.”

“Then perhaps it would be best,” said the reporter, “to remain a day longer on Tabor Island, so as to collect all that may be useful to us.”

“No, Mr. Spilett,” answered Pencroft, “I will ask you to set off to-morrow at daybreak.  The wind seems to me to be likely to shift to the west, and after having had a fair wind for coming we shall have a fair wind for going back.”

“Then do not let us lose time,” said Herbert, rising.

“We won’t waste time,” returned Pencroft.  “You, Herbert, go and gather the seeds, which you know better than we do.  While you do that, Mr. Spilett and I will go and have a pig hunt, and even without Top I hope we shall manage to catch a few!”