“And won’t be the last, I fancy,” said Otto.
“Probably not. Indeed, from the appearance of this bay, and the fact that an ocean current drifted us towards the spot, I should think that the island is a particularly dangerous one for vessels. But come, we’ll go see how Pina gets on, and then proceed to examine our new home.”
Returning to the place where Pauline had been left, they found the poor girl wringing the water out of her dress. The news of the fate of the little boat did not seem to affect her much, she did not fully appreciate the loss, and was more taken up with the idea of thankfulness for deliverance from death.
“May I not go with you?” she asked, on hearing that her brothers were going to search for water.
“Certainly. I thought you might perhaps prefer to rest, and dry your clothes in the sun,” replied Dominick.
“Walking will dry them better,” said Pina. “Besides, I have quite recovered.”
“You’re a plucky little woman,” said Otto, as they set off. “Isn’t it nice to be here all by ourselves, on a real uninhabited island, quite fit for Robinson himself? Who knows but we may find Friday in the bushes!”
“Wouldn’t that spoil it as an uninhabited isle?”
“A little, but not much.”
“The thicket is too small to contain anything with life, I fear,” said Dominick, whose anxiety as to food and drink prevented his sympathising much with the small-talk of the other two. “Luckily the weather is warm,” he added, “and we won’t require better shelter at present than the bushes afford, unless a storm comes.—Ho what have we here?—a path!”