It was then ten o'clock. Exhausted and hungry, Briant thought it best to have something to eat before attempting the ascent of the promontory, which raised its crest some 300 feet above the sea. And he sat down on a rock out of reach of the rising tide, which had begun to gain on the outer ridge of reefs. An hour later he would not have been able to pass along the foot of the cliff without running the danger of imprisonment by the flood. But there was nothing to be anxious about now, and in the afternoon the ebb would leave the passage dry.
While the food satisfied his hunger, the halt gave rest to his limbs, and he began to give the rein to his thoughts on matters in general. Alone, and far from his companions, he coolly reviewed the situation, resolving to do his best for the good of all. Then he thought of his brother Jack, whose health caused him much anxiety. It seemed to him that Jack must have done something serious—probably before his departure—and he decided to question him so closely that he would have to confess. For one hour Briant sat and thought, and rested himself. Then he shut up his bag, threw it over his shoulder, and began to climb the rocks.
The cape ended in a narrow ridge, and its geology was remarkable. It was a mass of metamorphic rock quite detached from the cliff, and differing from it completely in structure; the cliff being composed of calcareous stratifications similar to those of La Manche in the west of Europe.
Briant noticed that a narrow gorge cut the promontory off from the cliff, and that the breach extended northwards out of sight. But the promontory, being at least 100 feet higher than the neighbouring heights, would afford an extensive view.
The ascent was not easy. He had to climb from one rock to another, the rocks being often so large that he could barely reach up them. But as he belonged to that order of boys we classify as climbers, and brought all his gifts into play, he eventually reached the top. With his glass at his eye he first looked to the east. The country was flat as far as he could see. The cliff was the greatest elevation, and the ground gently sloped towards the interior. In the distance were a few hillocks hardly worth mentioning. There was much forest land, and under the yellow foliage rose many streams that ran towards the coast. The surface was level up to the horizon, which might be a dozen miles away. It did not look as though the sea was there.
To the north Briant could make out the beach running straight away for seven or eight miles; beyond another cape, and a stretch of sand that looked like a huge desert. To the south was a wide marsh. Briant had surveyed the whole sweep of the westerly horizon. Was he on an island or a continent ? He could not say. If it was an island, it was a large one. That was all he could discover.
Then he looked to the westward. The sea was shining under the oblique rays of the sun, which was slowly sinking in the heavens.
Suddenly he brought his glass to his eye, and looked away into the offing. " Ships ! " he exclaimed. " Ships going past ! " Three black spots appeared on the circle of gleaming waters about fifteen miles away.
Great was his excitement. Was he the sport of an illusion ? Were they vessels he saw ?
He lowered the glass, and cleaned the eyepiece, which had clouded with his breath. He looked again. The three points looked like ships with nothing visible but their hulls. There was no sign of their masts, and no smoke to show that they were under way. And then the thought occurred to him, that they were too far off for his signals to be seen; and as it was likely that his companions had not seen these ships, the best thing he could do was to get back to the wreck and light a big fire on the beach. And then— when the sun went down—.
As he thought he kept his eye on the three black spots. One thing was certain; they did not move.
Again he looked through the glass, and for some minutes he kept them in the field of his objective. And then he saw that they were three small islands that the schooner must have passed close by when they were hidden in the mist.
It was two o'clock. The tide began to retire, leaving the line of reefs bare at the foot of the cliff. Briant, thinking it was time to return to the wreck, prepared to descend the hill.
But once again he looked to the eastward. In the more oblique position of the sun he might see something that had hitherto escaped him. And he did not regret doing so; for beyond the border of forest he could now see a bluish line, which stretched from north to south for many miles, with its two ends lost behind the confused mass of trees.
" What is that ? " he asked himself.
And again he looked.
"The sea! Yes! The sea!"
And the glass almost dropped from his hands.
It was the sea to the eastward, there could be no doubt! It was not a continent on which he had been cast, but an island. An island in the immensity of the Pacific, which it would be impossible to leave !
And then all the perils that begirt him presented themselves to his mind as in a vision. His heart almost ceased to beat. But struggling against the involuntary weakness, he resolved to do his best to the last, however threatening the future might be.
A quarter of an hour afterwards he had regained the beach, and by the same way as he had come in the morning he returned to the wreck. He reached it about five o'clock, and found his comrades impatiently awaiting his return.
CHAPTER V.
A Spell Of Rain
In the evening after supper Briant told the bigger boys the result of his exploration. Briefly it was as follows: to the east, beyond the forest zone, he had distinctly seen a line of water extending from north to south. That this was the horizon of the sea appeared indubitable. Hence it was on an island and not on a continent that the yacht had been wrecked.
Gordon and the others received the information with considerable excitement. What! They were on an island and deprived of every means of leaving it! Their scheme of finding a road to the eastward would have to be abandoned! They would have to wait till a ship came in sight I Could it be true that this was their only chance of rescue ?
" But was not Briant mistaken ? " asked Donagan.
" Did you not mistake a bank of clouds for the sea ? " asked Cross.
" No," answered Briant. "I am certain I made no mistake. What I saw was a line of water, and it formed the horizon."
" How far off was it ? " asked Wilcox.
" About six miles from the cape."
" And beyond that," asked Webb, " were there no mountains, no elevated ground ? "
" No. Nothing but the sky."
Briant was so positive that it was not reasonable to retain the least doubt in the matter.
But Donagan, as was always the case when he argued with Briant, continued obstinate.
" And I repeat that Briant has made a mistake. And until we have seen it with our own eyes—"
" Which we shall do," said Gordon, " for we must know the truth about it."
" And I say we have not a day to lose," said Baxter, " if we are to leave this place before the bad weather, supposing
