“Yes, Neb, and we will find him,” replied Spilett. “Can he swim?” demanded Pencroff. “Oh, yes,” responded Neb. “And, besides, Top is with him—” The sailor, looking at the roaring sea, shook his head. It was at a point northward from this shore, and about half a mile from the place where the castaways had landed, that the engineer had disappeared, and if

he had come ashore at the nearest point it was at least that distance from where they now were. It was nearly 6 o’clock. The fog had risen and made the night very dark. The castaways followed northward along the shore of that land upon which chance had thrown them. A land unknown, whose geographical situation they could not guess. They walked upon a sandy soil, mixed with stones, seemingly destitute of

any kind of vegetation. The ground, very uneven, seemed in certain places to be riddled with small holes, making the march very painful. From these holes, great, heavy-flying birds rushed forth, and were lost in the darkness. Others, more active, rose in flocks, and fled away like the clouds. The sailor thought he recognized gulls and sea-mews, whose sharp cries were audible above the raging of the sea.

The engineer, on the giving way of the net, had been swept away by a wave. His dog had disappeared at the same time. The faithful animal had of its own accord sprung to the rescue of its master. “Forward!” cried the reporter, and all four, forgetting weakness and fatigue, began their search. Poor Neb wept with grief and despair at the thought of having lost all that he loved in the world. Not more than two minutes had passed between the moment that Smith had disappeared, and the instant of his companions landing. They were, therefore, hopeful of being in time to rescue him. “Hunt, hunt for him,” cried Neb.