Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

The engineer, the meshes of the net having given way, had been carried off
by a wave. His dog also had disappeared. The faithful animal had
voluntarily leaped out to help his master. "Forward," cried the reporter;
and all four, Spilett, Herbert, Pencroft, and Neb, forgetting their
fatigue, began their search. Poor Neb shed bitter tears, giving way to
despair at the thought of having lost the only being he loved on earth.

Only two minutes had passed from the time when Cyrus Harding disappeared
to the moment when his companions set foot on the ground. They had hopes
therefore of arriving in time to save him. "Let us look for him! let us
look for him!" cried Neb.

"Yes, Neb," replied Gideon Spilett, "and we will find him too!"

"Living, I trust!"

"Still living!"

"Can he swim?" asked Pencroft.

"Yes," replied Neb, "and besides, Top is there."

The sailor, observing the heavy surf on the shore, shook his head.

The engineer had disappeared to the north of the shore, and nearly half a
mile from the place where the castaways had landed. The nearest point of
the beach he could reach was thus fully that distance off.

It was then nearly six o'clock. A thick fog made the night very dark. The
castaways proceeded toward the north of the land on which chance had thrown
them, an unknown region, the geographical situation of which they could not
even guess. They were walking upon a sandy soil, mingled with stones, which
appeared destitute of any sort of vegetation. The ground, very unequal and
rough, was in some places perfectly riddled with holes, making walking
extremely painful. From these holes escaped every minute great birds of
clumsy flight, which flew in all directions. Others, more active, rose in
flocks and passed in clouds over their heads. The sailor thought he
recognized gulls and cormorants, whose shrill cries rose above the roaring
of the sea.

From time to time the castaways stopped and shouted, then listened for
some response from the ocean, for they thought that if the engineer had
landed, and they had been near to the place, they would have heard the
barking of the dog Top, even should Harding himself have been unable to
give any sign of existence. They stopped to listen, but no sound arose
above the roaring of the waves and the dashing of the surf. The little band
then continued their march forward, searching into every hollow of the
shore.

After walking for twenty minutes, the four castaways were suddenly
brought to a standstill by the sight of foaming billows close to their
feet. The solid ground ended here. They found themselves at the extremity
of a sharp point on which the sea broke furiously.

"It is a promontory,"