“That was well said, captain,” replied the sailor, “but, all the same, it is my opinion that we shall not find the gentleman until he pleases.”

And truly Pencroft only expressed the opinion of all.  It was probable that the stranger’s retreat was not less mysterious than was he himself.

That evening the cart halted at the mouth of Falls River.  The camp was organized as usual, and the customary precautions were taken for the night.  Herbert, become again the healthy and vigorous lad he was before his illness, derived great benefit from this life in the open air, between the sea breezes and the vivifying air from the forests.  His place was no longer in the cart, but at the head of the troop.

The next day, the 19th of February, the colonists, leaving the shore, where, beyond the mouth, basalts of every shape were so picturesquely piled up, ascended the river by its left bank.  The road had been already partly cleared in their former excursions made from the corral to the west coast.  The settlers were now about six miles from Mount Franklin.

The engineer’s plan was this:—­To minutely survey the valley forming the bed of the river, and to cautiously approach the neighborhood of the corral; if the corral was occupied, to seize it by force; if it was not, to entrench themselves there and make it the center of the operations which had for their object the exploration of Mount Franklin.

This plan was unanimously approved by the colonists, for they were impatient to regain entire possession of their island.

They made their way then along the narrow valley separating two of the largest spurs of Mount Franklin.  The trees, crowded on the river’s bank, became rare on the upper slopes of the mountain.  The ground was hilly and rough, very suitable for ambushes, and over which they did not venture without extreme precaution.  Top and Jup skirmished on the flanks, springing right and left through the thick brushwood, and emulating each other in intelligence and activity.  But nothing showed that the banks of the stream had been recently frequented—­nothing announced either the presence or the proximity of the convicts.  Towards five in the evening the cart stopped nearly 600 feet from the palisade.  A semicircular screen of trees still hid it.

It was necessary to reconnoiter the corral, in order to ascertain if it was occupied.  To go there openly, in broad daylight, when the convicts were probably in ambush, would be to expose themselves, as poor Herbert had done, to the firearms of the ruffians.  It was better, then, to wait until night came on.

However, Gideon Spilett wished without further delay to reconnoiter the approaches to the corral, and Pencroft, who was quite out of patience, volunteered to accompany him.

“No, my friends,” said the engineer, “wait till night.  I will not allow one of you to expose himself in open day.”

“But, captain—­” answered the sailor, little disposed to obey.