Chapter 4 - Page 2

wrack, abounded
bivalve shell-fish, not to be despised by starving people. Herbert called
Pencroft, who ran up hastily.

"Here are mussels!" cried the sailor; "these will do instead of eggs!"

"They are not mussels," replied Herbert, who was attentively examining
the molluscs attached to the rocks; "they are lithodomes."

"Are they good to eat?" asked Pencroft.

"Perfectly so."

"Then let us eat some lithodomes."

The sailor could rely upon Herbert; the young boy was well up in natural
history, and always had had quite a passion for the science. His father had
encouraged him in it, by letting him attend the lectures of the best
professors in Boston, who were very fond of the intelligent, industrious
lad. And his turn for natural history was, more than once in the course of
time, of great use, and he was not mistaken in this instance. These
lithodomes were oblong shells, suspended in clusters and adhering very
tightly to the rocks. They belong to that species of molluscous perforators
which excavate holes in the hardest stone; their shell is rounded at both
ends, a feature which is not remarked in the common mussel.

Pencroft and Herbert made a good meal of the lithodomes, which were then
half opened to the sun. They ate them as oysters, and as they had a strong
peppery taste, they were palatable without condiments of any sort.

Their hunger was thus appeased for the time, but not their thirst, which
increased after eating these naturally-spiced molluscs. They had then to
find fresh water, and it was not likely that it would be wanting in such a
capriciously uneven region. Pencroft and Herbert, after having taken the
precaution of collecting an ample supply of lithodomes, with which they
filled their pockets and handkerchiefs, regained the foot of the cliff.

Two hundred paces farther they arrived at the cutting, through which, as
Pencroft had guessed, ran a stream of water, whether fresh or not was to be
ascertained. At this place the wall appeared to have been separated by some
violent subterranean force. At its base was hollowed out a little creek,
the farthest part of which formed a tolerably sharp angle. The watercourse
at that part measured one hundred feet in breadth, and its two banks on
each side were scarcely twenty feet high. The river became strong almost
directly between the two walls of granite, which began to sink above the
mouth; it then suddenly turned and disappeared beneath a wood of stunted
trees half a mile off.

"Here is the water, and yonder is the wood we require!" said Pencroft.
"Well, Herbert, now we only want the house."

The water of the river was limpid. The sailor ascertained that at this
time--that is to say, at low tide, when the