The reporter then proposed to light a fire on a point of the islet, which would serve as a signal to the engineer.But they searched in vain for wood or dry brambles; nothing but sand and stones were to be found.The grief of Neb and his companions, who were all strongly attached to the intrepid Harding, can be better pictured than described.It was too evident that they were powerless to help him.They must wait with what patience they could for daylight.Either the engineer had been able to save himself, and had already found a refuge on some point of the coast, or he was lost for ever! The long and painful hours passed by.The cold was intense.The castaways suffered cruelly, but they scarcely perceived it.They did not even think of taking a minute's rest.Forgetting everything but their chief, hoping or wishing to hope on, they continued to walk up and down on this sterile spot, always returning to its northern point, where they could approach nearest to the scene of the catastrophe.They listened, they called, and then uniting their voices, they endeavored to raise even a louder shout than before, which would be transmitted to a great distance.
The wind had now fallen almost to a calm, and the noise of the sea began also to subside.One of Neb's shouts even appeared to produce an echo.
Herbert directed Pencroft's attention to it, adding, "That proves that there is a coast to the west, at no great distance." The sailor nodded;besides, his eyes could not deceive him.If he had discovered land, however indistinct it might appear, land was sure to be there.But that distant echo was the only response produced by Neb's shouts, while a heavy gloom hung over all the part east of the island.
Meanwhile, the sky was clearing little by little.Towards midnight the stars shone out, and if the engineer had been there with his companions he would have remarked that these stars did not belong to the Northern Hemisphere.The Polar Star was not visible, the constellations were not those which they had been accustomed to see in the United States; the Southern Cross glittered brightly in the sky.
The night passed away.Towards five o'clock in the morning of the 25th of March, the sky began to lighten; the horizon still remained dark, but with daybreak a thick mist rose from the sea, so that the eye could scarcely penetrate beyond twenty feet or so from where they stood.At length the fog gradually unrolled itself in great heavily moving waves.
It was unfortunate, however, that the castaways could distinguish nothing around them.While the gaze of the reporter and Neb were cast upon the ocean, the sailor and Herbert looked eagerly for the coast in the west.But not a speck of land was visible."Never mind," said Pencroft, "though I do not see the land, I feel it...it is there...there...as sure as the fact that we are no longer at Richmond." But the fog was not long in rising.it was only a fine-weather mist.A hot sun soon penetrated to the surface of the island.About half-past six, three-quarters of an hour after sunrise, the mist became more transparent.It grew thicker above, but cleared away below.Soon the isle appeared as if it had descended from a cloud, then the sea showed itself around them, spreading far away towards the east, but bounded on the west by an abrupt and precipitous coast.
Yes! the land was there.Their safety was at least provisionally insured.
The islet and the coast were separated by a channel about half a mile in breadth, through which rushed an extremely rapid current.