The day after that on which the two families had taken refuge on the island, a bird arrived, to receive the warmest of welcomes. It was the albatross of Burning Rock, which Jenny had found again at Turtle Bay, and which had flown away from the top of Jean Zermatt peak in the direction of the Promised Land. When it arrived, the piece of thread that was still fastened round one of its legs attracted Jack’s attention, and he caught the bird without any trouble. But, unfortunately, on this occasion, the albatross brought no tidings.
The men went up to the battery. From the top of the knoll an uninterrupted view could be obtained north as far as False Hope Point, east as far as Cape East, and south as far as the end of Deliverance Bay. To west, about two miles away, ran the long line of trees which bordered the shore between Jackal River and the Falconhurst woods. But they could not see whether the natives were roaming about the Promised Land.
Just at this moment, at the mouth of Deliverance Bay, a few canoes came paddling out to sea, keeping well beyond range of the guns in the battery. By this time the savages had learned the danger of coming too near Shark’s Island, and if they should attempt to land upon it they would most certainly wait for a very dark night.
Looking out to the open main in the northward, one saw nothing but deserted boundless space, and it was from that quarter that the Unicorn, or any other ship despatched from England, must appear.
After having satisfied themselves that the battery was in order, the men were just preparing to come down, when Captain Gould asked:
“Is there not a powder magazine at Rock Castle?”
“Yes,” Jack answered, “and I wish to goodness it were here instead of there! The three barrels that the Unicorn left us are in it.”
“Where are they?”
“In a little cavity at the end of the orchard.”
The boatswain guessed the captain’s thought.