For this island the party had looked every day, while they were afloat; but, for some reason or other, since the night of their first floating away from the island, they had seen nothing of the smoke or fire of the burning crater.
The seamen had attributed this fact to the murky atmosphere westward, shrouding the island from their view, while the raft had meanwhile been carried further and further from it by the tide.
When night came, after their leaving the rock, the bearings of which they endeavored to keep in mind, they again looked for the light of the volcano. The atmosphere, however, not having yet cleared, they could see no sign of it. Hoping that the current would continue in this direction and carry them to the island, they watched the west, keenly yet vainly for a sign of the shore.
Mary slept little that night. In the morning Harry pointed out to her, far away, the land, evidently that which they were anxious to reach, looming up, the mist having cleared.
That it was the wished-for shore was made evident by a column of smoke, rising up from the summit of one of the lofty island peaks.
"Do you think we will reach it?" the young girl inquired.
"I think so; if the set of the current does not change to the south," answered Harry.
He was right; before night the party were close upon the island shore.
Mary's eyes lighted up with joy. Worn though she was by hardship and suffering, she could yet feel a thrill of eager, pleasant expectation, as she gazed at the beautiful shores of this island.
Scarcely a mile in extent, and not more than half that in breadth, the shores teemed with the most luxuriant vegetation.