The distance between these two extremities, which made the bow of the bay, was about eight miles.
Half a mile from the shore rose the islet, which somewhat resembled the carcass of a gigantic whale.
Its extreme breadth was not more than a quarter of a mile.
Opposite the islet, the beach consisted first of sand, covered with black stones, which were now appearing little by little above the retreating tide.
The second level was separated by a perpendicular granite cliff, terminated at the top by an unequal edge at a height of at least 300 feet.
It continued thus for a length of three miles, ending suddenly on the right with a precipice which looked as if cut by the hand of man.
On the left, above the promontory, this irregular and jagged cliff descended by a long slope of conglomerated rocks till it mingled with the ground of the southern point.
On the upper plateau of the coast not a tree appeared.
It was a flat tableland like that above Cape Town at the Cape of Good Hope, but of reduced proportions; at least so it appeared seen from the islet.
However, verdure was not wanting to the right beyond the precipice.
They could easily distinguish a confused mass of great trees, which extended beyond the limits of their view.
This verdure relieved the eye, so long wearied by the continued ranges of granite.
Lastly, beyond and above the plateau, in a northwesterly direction and at a distance of at least seven miles, glittered a white summit which reflected the sun’s rays.
It was that of a lofty mountain, capped with snow.
The question could not at present be decided whether this land formed an island, or whether it belonged to a continent.
But on beholding the convulsed masses heaped up on the left, no geologist would have hesitated to give them a volcanic origin, for they were unquestionably the work of subterranean convulsions.
Gideon Spilett, Pencroft, and Herbert attentively examined this land, on which they might perhaps have to live many long years; on which indeed they might even die, should it be out of the usual track of vessels, as was likely to be the case.
“Well,” asked Herbert, “what do you say, Pencroft?”
“There is some good and some bad, as in everything,” replied the sailor.
“We shall see.
But now the ebb is evidently making.
In three hours we will attempt the passage, and once on the other side, we will try to get out of this scrape, and I hope may find the captain.”
Pencroft was not wrong in his anticipations.
Three hours later at low tide, the greater part of the sand forming the bed of the channel was uncovered.
Between the islet and the coast there only remained a narrow channel which would no doubt be easy to cross.
About ten o’clock, Gideon Spilett and his companions stripped themselves of their clothes, which they placed in bundles on their heads, and then ventured into the water, which was not more than five feet deep.
Herbert, for whom it was too deep, swam like a fish, and got through capitally.
All three arrived without difficulty on the opposite shore.
Quickly drying themselves in the sun, they put on their clothes, which they had preserved from contact with the water, and sat down to take counsel together what to do next.
Chapter 4
All at once the reporter sprang up, and telling the sailor that he would rejoin them at that same place, he climbed the cliff in the direction which the Negro Neb had taken a few hours before.
Anxiety hastened his steps, for he longed to obtain news of his friend, and he soon disappeared round an angle of the cliff.
Herbert wished to accompany him.
“Stop here, my boy,” said the sailor; “we have to prepare an encampment, and to try and find rather better grub than these shell-fish.
Our friends will want something when they come back.
There is work for everybody.”
“I am ready,” replied Herbert.
“All right,” said the sailor; “that will do.
We must set about it regularly.
We are tired, cold, and hungry; therefore we must have shelter, fire, and food.
There is wood in the forest, and eggs in nests; we have only to find a house.”
“Very well,” returned Herbert, “I will look for a cave among the rocks, and I shall be sure to discover some hole into which we can creep.”
“All right,” said Pencroft; “go on, my boy.”
They both walked to the foot of the enormous wall over the beach, far from which the tide had now retreated; but instead of going towards the north, they went southward.
Pencroft had remarked, several hundred feet from the place at which they landed, a narrow cutting, out of which he thought a river or stream might issue.
Now, on the one hand it was important to settle themselves in the neighborhood of a good stream of water, and on the other it was possible that the current had thrown Cyrus Harding on the shore there.
The cliff, as has been said, rose to a height of three hundred feet, but the mass was unbroken throughout, and even at its base, scarcely washed by the sea, it did not offer the smallest fissure which would serve as a dwelling.
It was a perpendicular wall of very hard granite, which even the waves had not worn away.
Towards the summit fluttered myriads of sea-fowl, and especially those of the web-footed species with long, flat, pointed beaks—a clamorous tribe, bold in the presence of man, who probably for the first time thus invaded their domains.
Pencroft recognized the skua and other gulls among them, the voracious little sea-mew, which in great numbers nestled in the crevices of the granite.