Two miles' walk brought me to an elevation running out into the sea, which was evidently the southern extremity of my island, and I marked it upon the chart South Cape, and the hill-top Watch Hill, for the reason that I could see from this position much further in both an easterly and westerly direction than from any point upon the island that I had yet reached.
To the right of me as I faced to the southward was a beautiful and lovely bay, at least a mile and a half deep and three-quarters wide, as smooth as glass, in which the shadows of the surrounding shores and hill-tops were pictured. I marked it down upon my chart as Mirror Bay. Long and steadily I looked to the southward before leaving South Cape, but no sign of land met my longing view. To the westward, on the other side of Mirror Bay, trended the white sand beach, backed by groves of beautiful trees which were in full verdure. Drinking in all the beauties of Nature round about me, I turned my steps towards the head of Mirror Bay, and in about a mile and a half came to a river of considerable size pouring into it, which seemed of some depth, and was at least thirty or forty yards wide. I followed this stream about a mile and a half more, when, struggling along by the side of the river, which I named Mirror River, through a short undergrowth of a sort of scrub oak, I all at once came out upon the most lovely lake imaginable, fringed round about by beautiful groves of trees, and looking like molten lead or silver in its quietness and calm. I named it at once Mirror Lake, but in forcing my way to its margin, after having for a few moments enjoyed its beauties, I started up from its borders innumerable flocks of birds, amongst which I distinguished geese, swans, ducks, and other birds of which I knew not the name. I sat down upon the borders of this beautiful sheet of water and contemplated it in silence.
After having enjoyed its beauties to my fill, I passed again to the river bank to pass over and get again to the seaside, but I found the water rapid and quite deep, although not over my head, and I was obliged to undress and carry my things over one by one, and to make several trips before I stood with all my weapons round about me on the southwestern bank. This lake I should say was about one mile in extent and half a mile wide, of nearly an oval form, and its waters, which I tasted and found excellent, singularly pure and limpid, with hard, sandy shores, and free from any slime or stagnant water. A walk of a mile brought me again to the seaside, and I trudged on, I should judge, about three miles, till I saw a ledge of rocks jutting into the sea and confining my vision as to the extent of the island in that direction. As I drew nearer I saw forms upon the rocks that looked like human figures,—like soldiers in full uniform,—but singularly small in size. For just one moment I was deceived,—nay, even frightened,—but the next my sailor's eyes told me they were penguins, and sure enough, as I approached, my soldiers gravely plunged into the ocean and swam out seaward. I named the point, Penguin Point, being the first of these birds that I had seen. From this point the coast ran in a northerly direction in almost a straight line, but I had no time to examine it further on this day, for the beautiful sun was fast dipping into the western ocean before my eyes, with nothing to veil the magnificent sight. Eagerly did I look for land as its lower limb touched the water and set it all in a blaze, but nothing met my view.
I did not find here the thick, shady trees of the remainder of the island; but short, stumpy cedars and pines, and I noticed that the land was flat and sandy. I built a small fire so as to light my pipe and enjoy its company, and gathered together my customary bed of seaweed. The stars came out in all their brilliancy, and by and by the moon came creeping up behind me over the island, but I could not sleep as usual. I was too solitary and desolate to enjoy that luxury of forgetfulness, and I sat for long hours into the night, listening to sounds that, in any but a sailor's ear, would have created fear and anxiety; for on the ocean side I heard the never-ending pulsations and throbs of its ceaseless breathing, and inland the nameless noises of the night which I had learned years before in anchor-watches in some distant river of a far-off clime. I was not afraid, but I was lonely, and in the agony of my spirit I prayed for rescue from my living tomb; but better feelings came to my mind as the night wore on, and I thought over how much I had to be thankful for, and how many comforts I could get round about me with a little industry and foresight. I suppose that it was about midnight when I put out my pipe and fell asleep; at any rate, when I awoke it was broad daylight, and the sun at least two hours high.
CHAPTER XII.
Exploration of the island: Fourth day. Finish the exploration of the island, and build stone house at Rapid River.
I soon had my fire in a blaze and my breakfast despatched, and started forward on my explorations. As I advanced, I saw that I was on a smooth, hard sand-beach, with a scanty growth of cedars and pines on my right hand inland. After walking a few miles I turned to the right and walked inland, expecting, from the formation of the land, that the part of the island I was upon could not be very wide; and sure enough, after a short half mile through the stunted cedars, I came out upon Perseverance Bay, and within plain sight of Point Deliverance and Stillwater Cove, some three miles distant. I found that I was upon a narrow tongue of land which formed the western boundary of Perseverance Bay and ended in the promontory that I had seen from Point Deliverance in looking across the bay on the first day of my explorations.
I did not consider it worth while to pass back again to the west shore, but kept along on the beach on the margin of Perseverance Bay towards the point to the northward. In a mile or two more I reached it, and found that it consisted of quite a sandy elevation, covered with stunted cedars, and evidently the extreme northern point of my island. I named it West Signal Point. Here I sat down and took a review of my situation. I had virtually made the circuit of the island; for from where I sat I could see the margin of Perseverance Bay, which, if I followed, would end in landing me at the mouth of Stillwater Cove, near my hut.