No natives were to be seen, but they might be on the opposite coast. In any case, if they had perceived the aeronef, terror had made them either hide themselves or run away. The “Albatross” had anchored on the southwest point of the island. Not far off, down a little creek, a small river flowed in among the rocks. Beyond were several winding valleys; trees of different kinds; and birds—partridges and bustards—in great numbers. If the island was not inhabited it was habitable. Robur might surely have landed on it; if he had not done so it was probably because the ground was uneven and did not offer a convenient spot to beach the aeronef. While he was waiting for the sun the engineer began the repairs he reckoned on completing before the day was over. The suspensory screws were undamaged and had worked admirably amid all the violence of the storm, which, as we have said, had considerably lightened their work. At this moment half of them were in action, enough to keep the “Albatross” fixed to the shore by the taut cable. But the two propellers had suffered, and more than Robur had thought. Their blades would have to be adjusted and the gearing seen to by which they received their rotatory movement. It was the screw at the bow which was first attacked under Robur’s superintendence. It was the best to commence with, in case the “Albatross” had to leave before the work was finished. With only this propeller he could easily keep a proper course. Meanwhile Uncle Prudent and his colleague, after walking about the deck, had sat down aft. Frycollin was strangely reassured. What a difference! To be suspended only one hundred and fifty feet from the ground! The work was only interrupted for a moment while the elevation of the sun above the horizon allowed Robur to take an horary angle, so that at the time of its culmination he could calculate his position. The result of the observation, taken with the greatest exactitude, was as follows: Longitude, 176° 10′ west. Latitude, 44° 25′ south. This point on the map answered to the position of the Chatham Islands, and particularly of Pitt Island, one of the group. “That is nearer than I supposed.” said Robur to Tom Turner. “How far off are we?” “Forty-six degrees south of X Island, or two thousand eight hundred miles.” “All the more reason to get our propellers into order.” said the mate. “We may have the wind against us this passage, and with the little stores we have left we ought to get to X as soon as possible.” “Yes, Tom, and I hope to get under way tonight, even if I go with one screw, and put the other to-rights on the voyage.” “Mr. Robur.” said Tom “What is to be done with those two gentlemen and their servant?” “Do you think they would complain if they became colonists of X Island?”