“Walter, you have rendered science an important service!” exclaimed Mr Hooker. “So difficult is this creature to be obtained, that I know of one only that has ever been brought to England, now preserved in the Royal College of Surgeons.”

Immediately a jar of arrack, which my uncle had brewed for the sake of preserving his specimens—certainly not for drinking—was produced, and the nautilus was carefully embalmed within it.

“If you can obtain another, which we can dissect, you will have rendered Mr Hooker and me the greatest possible service,” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “Us, did I say!—the whole scientific world at large. You will deserve to become a member of all the societies of Europe—the most honourable distinction which a man of any age might desire to obtain.”

Of course we undertook to manufacture a further number of fish-pots, and to place them out in deep water, where we might have a chance of catching another of these creatures. We measured the hole they would require for entering, and discovered that out of the number we had made, the one which had caught the nautilus was the only one with a hole sufficiently large to allow it to enter.

“But surely, uncle, the nautilus has sails by which it glides over the water,” said Emily, as she was examining the creature.

“In the imagination of the poets only, my niece,” he answered. “The shells often float from their excessive lightness, in consequence of the air contained in certain chambers within them. It is then often swept away by wind or tide to some neighbouring shore. Thus large numbers of the shells are found thrown up on the beach. The animal, however, when alive, floats occasionally with its shell on the surface; but I doubt much whether it has any power of locomotion beyond that which the wind or current gives it.”

“How disappointing!” exclaimed Emily and Grace together. “We always thought that it had tiny sails, which it spread to the breeze; and pictured it to ourselves skimming on the calm surface, and delighting in its freedom and rapidity of movement.”

“There is, no doubt, an abundance of wonders in Nature, young ladies,” said Mr Hooker, “but a more intimate acquaintance with the habits of animals will often dispel some of the common ideas which have been connected with them, albeit in many instances held for centuries. For instance, till within a very late period people believed that the upas-tree, which grows in Java, possessed such noxious qualities that it destroyed all vegetable life in the neighbourhood. The sap is, undoubtedly, a poison; but I believe people may sleep under its boughs without receiving the slightest injury, though perhaps, were any of the sap to fall from the tree and to enter a wound, it would prove fatal. Once upon a time people believed that the barnacles which are found attached to ships’ bottoms, or pieces of timber long floating on the ocean, turned into geese, and the barnacle-goose was so called because it was supposed to have its origin in that common mollusc, the barnacle.”

Mr Thudicumb had more than once to suggest to the two enthusiastic naturalists that we should lose no further time in commencing the building of our vessel, for although we had no great reason to complain of our position, yet the mate was anxious to let his friends know that he was safe, as also Captain and Mrs Davenport that their daughter and the rest of us were still alive. The sea was now so calm that we had plenty of occupation in going backwards and forwards to the wreck. Mr Thudicumb, who was at length able to accompany us, suggested that a raft should be made, by which means we might bring a larger quantity of stores on shore at a time. All hands were thus actively employed. Tanda had to attend to affairs on shore, the Frau and the two girls assisting him in household matters. The two naturalists were engaged all day long in collecting and arranging their specimens, while the three other men, under the command of the mate, with Oliver and I, were preparing for the building of the vessel.

It must be understood that all the timber and the heavy things were towed round to the bay I have before described, which we now called Hope Harbour—the Hope being the name we proposed giving our vessel. Oliver and I, with Roger Trew, generally managed the boat, while the others remained on board tearing up the planks, and collecting such articles as they could fish up from the bottom.