“Yes,” said Arthur, “but I shouldn’t wonder if behind that point ahead the land got better. It stands to reason that these cliffs can’t extend forever. There must be places here and there where gullies occur—places where brooks run down, you know.”
“O, I dare say; but I only hope we may get to some such a place before the wind changes.”
“Why, is the wind going to change?”
“I don’t know. I merely supposed a case.”
“O, I dare say the wind’ll keep in this direction for ever so long yet.”
They sailed along slowly under these cliffs for about a couple of miles, and at length reached the point of which Arthur had spoken. They passed this, full of curiosity as to what lay beyond. They saw that the land here receded for a mile or two,—very gradually, however,—while several miles ahead it projected itself once more into the sea, and was terminated by a precipitous headland. These receding shores showed a different appearance from that of the cliffs which they had just been passing. They were wooded down to the water’s edge, which they approached by a gentle declivity, while about two miles ahead they disclosed a wide area where there were no trees at all.
Whether this was cultivated ground, cleared ground, or pasture, they could not very well make out; but they had not caught sight of it before they saw something which at once riveted their attention.
It was a column of smoke!
“Hurrah!” cried Tom. “We’ve come to a settlement at last. Well, it’s about time. Hurrah! We’re all right now.”
“Yes,” said Arthur, “there must be some life about—though I can’t see any sign of any settlement.”