“That’s nothing, Neb,” replied the sailor; “the wood will get seasoned.  In two days there won’t be a single leak, and our boat will have no more water in her than there is in the stomach of a drunkard.  Jump in!”

They were soon all seated, and Pencroft shoved off.  The weather was magnificent, the sea as calm as if its waters were contained within the narrow limits of a lake.  Thus the boat could proceed with as much security as if it was ascending the tranquil current of the Mercy.

Neb took one of the oars, Herbert the other, and Pencroft remained in the stern in order to use the scull.

The sailor first crossed the channel, and steered close to the southern point of the islet.  A light breeze blew from the south.  No roughness was found either in the channel or the green sea.  A long swell, which the canoe scarcely felt, as it was heavily laden, rolled regularly over the surface of the water.  They pulled out about half a mile distant from the shore, that they might have a good view of Mount Franklin.

Pencroft afterwards returned towards the mouth of the river.  The boat then skirted the shore, which, extending to the extreme point, hid all Tadorn’s Fens.

This point, of which the distance was increased by the irregularity of the coast, was nearly three miles from the Mercy.  The settlers resolved to go to its extremity, and only go beyond it as much as was necessary to take a rapid survey of the coast as far as Claw Cape.

The canoe followed the windings of the shore, avoiding the rocks which fringed it, and which the rising tide began to cover.  The cliff gradually sloped away from the mouth of the river to the point.  This was formed of granite reeks, capriciously distributed, very different from the cliff at Prospect Heights, and of an extremely wild aspect.  It might have been said that an immense cartload of rocks had been emptied out there.  There was no vegetation on this sharp promontory, which projected two miles from the forest, and it thus represented a giant’s arm stretched out from a leafy sleeve.

The canoe, impelled by the two oars, advanced without difficulty.  Gideon Spilett, pencil in one hand and notebook in the other, sketched the coast in bold strokes.  Neb, Herbert, and Pencroft chatted, while examining this part of their domain, which was new to them, and, in proportion as the canoe proceeded towards the south, the two Mandible Capes appeared to move, and surround Union Bay more closely.

As to Cyrus Harding, he did not speak; he simply gazed, and by the mistrust which his look expressed, it appeared that he was examining some strange country.

In the meantime, after a voyage of three-quarters of an hour, the canoe reached the extremity of the point, and Pencroft was preparing to return, when Herbert, rising, pointed to a black object, saying,—­

“What do I see down there on the beach?”

All eyes turned towards the point indicated.