“Well,” said the boatswain, “I could be quite content with what we see about us; and I can’t imagine anything better in your island than we have here.”
“It is nothing compared with the Promised Land, Mr. Block,” Dolly declared.
“Nothing,” Jenny agreed. “M. Zermatt gave it that Bible name because it deserved it, and we, more blest than the children of Israel, are about to set foot in the land of Canaan.”
And John Block admitted they were right.
At six o’clock they stopped for the night.
There was little likelihood of change in the weather at this season, and the cold was not formidable. Indeed, they had suffered rather from heat during the day, in spite of the fact that they were in the shelter of the trees during the hottest hours. After that, a few isolated woods and copses had enabled them to walk in the shade without wandering too far from the direct route.
Supper was prepared, as the earlier meal had been, before a crackling fire of dry wood. This night would not be spent within a cave, but, with fatigue to rock them, not one of them lay awake.
As a matter of precaution, however, Fritz and Frank and the boatswain decided to keep alternate watch. When darkness fell, roaring could be heard in the far distance. There were wild beasts in this part of the island.
Next morning a start was made at daybreak. They hoped to get through the defile of Cluse in the second stage of the journey, if they met with no obstacles on the way.
There were no more hardships about the march to-day than there had been the day before. They went from wood to wood, so to speak, avoiding as much as possible the rays of the sun.