Neither Gideon Spilett, Herbert, nor Pencroft slept that night.  In the expectation of the next day they could not but feel some emotion.  There was so much uncertainty in their enterprise!  Were they near Tabor Island?  Was the island still inhabited by the castaway to whose succor they had come?  Who was this man?  Would not his presence disturb the little colony till then so united?  Besides, would he be content to exchange his prison for another?  All these questions, which would no doubt be answered the next day, kept them in suspense, and at the dawn of day they all fixed their gaze on the western horizon.

“Land!” shouted Pencroft at about six o’clock in the morning.

And it was impossible that Pencroft should be mistaken, it was evident that land was there.  Imagine the joy of the little crew of the “Bonadventure.”  In a few hours they would land on the beach of the island!

The low coast of Tabor Island, scarcely emerging from the sea, was not more than fifteen miles distant.

The head of the “Bonadventure,” which was a little to the south of the island, was set directly towards it, and as the sun mounted in the east, its rays fell upon one or two headlands.

“This is a much less important isle than Lincoln Island,” observed Herbert, “and is probably due like ours to some submarine convulsion.”

At eleven o’clock the “Bonadventure” was not more than two miles off, and Pencroft, while looking for a suitable place at which to land, proceeded very cautiously through the unknown waters.  The whole of the island could now be surveyed, and on it could be seen groups of gum and other large trees, of the same species as those growing on Lincoln Island.  But the astonishing thing was that no smoke arose to show that the island was inhabited, no signal whatever appeared on the shore!

And yet the document was clear enough; there was a castaway, and this castaway should have been on the watch.

In the meanwhile the “Bonadventure” entered the winding channels among the reefs, and Pencroft observed every turn with extreme care.  He had put Herbert at the helm, posting himself in the bows, inspecting the water, while he held the halliard in his hand, ready to lower the sail at a moment’s notice.  Gideon Spilett with his glass eagerly scanned the shore, though without perceiving anything.

However, at about twelve o’clock the keel of the “Bonadventure” grated on the bottom.  The anchor was let go, the sails furled, and the crew of the little vessel landed.

And there was no reason to doubt that this was Tabor Island, since according to the most recent charts there was no island in this part of the Pacific between New Zealand and the American Coast.

The vessel was securely moored, so that there should be no danger of her being carried away by the receding tide; then Pencroft and his companions, well armed, ascended the shore, so as to gain an elevation of about two hundred and fifty or three hundred feet which rose at a distance of half a mile.