While the sailor, seconded by the engineer, thus occupied himself without losing an hour, Gideon Spilett and Herbert were not idle.

They were made purveyors to the colony.  The reporter could not but admire the boy, who had acquired great skill in handling the bow and spear.  Herbert also showed great courage and much of that presence of mind which may justly be called “the reasoning of bravery.”  These two companions of the chase, remembering Cyrus Harding’s recommendations, did not go beyond a radius of two miles round Granite House; but the borders of the forest furnished a sufficient tribute of agoutis, capybaras, kangaroos, peccaries, etc.; and if the result from the traps was less than during the cold, still the warren yielded its accustomed quota, which might have fed all the colony in Lincoln Island.

Often during these excursions, Herbert talked with Gideon Spilett on the incident of the bullet, and the deductions which the engineer drew from it, and one day—­it was the 26th of October—­he said—­“But, Mr. Spilett, do you not think it very extraordinary that, if any castaways have landed on the island, they have not yet shown themselves near Granite House?”

“Very astonishing if they are still here,” replied the reporter, “but not astonishing at all if they are here no longer!”

“So you think that these people have already quitted the island?” returned Herbert.

“It is more than probable, my boy; for if their stay was prolonged, and above all, if they were still here, some accident would have at last betrayed their presence.”

“But if they were able to go away,” observed the lad, “they could not have been castaways.”

“No, Herbert; or, at least, they were what might be called provisional castaways.  It is very possible that a storm may have driven them to the island without destroying their vessel, and that, the storm over, they went away again.”

“I must acknowledge one thing,” said Herbert, “it is that Captain Harding appears rather to fear than desire the presence of human beings on our island.”

“In short,” responded the reporter, “there are only Malays who frequent these seas, and those fellows are ruffians which it is best to avoid.”

“It is not impossible, Mr. Spilett,” said Herbert, “that some day or other we may find traces of their landing.”

“I do not say no, my boy.  A deserted camp, the ashes of a fire, would put us on the track, and this is what we will look for in our next expedition.”

The day on which the hunters spoke thus, they were in a part of the forest near the Mercy, remarkable for its beautiful trees.  There, among others, rose, to a height of nearly 200 feet above the ground, some of those superb coniferae, to which, in New Zealand, the natives give the name of Kauris.

“I have an idea, Mr. Spilett,” said Herbert.  “If I were to climb to the top of one of these kauris, I could survey the country for an immense distance round.”