For several days the shipwrecked party continued to live chiefly on limpets and mussels gathered on the sea-shore. Only a very little of the pork was used, for the purpose of converting the food into soup. As they could not tell, of course, how long they might be compelled to live there, it behoved them to be very careful of the food-supply already in possession. Fortunately, the weather continued fine, though cold, so that it was not necessary at first to make any alteration in their camp arrangements. During this period much of their time was necessarily spent in laying in a stock of shell-fish, and in attempting to bring down with stones some of the gulls which flew inquisitively about and very temptingly near to the camp, but none of the party was a good marksman with stone ammunition, and it soon became evident that unless some other means of obtaining food were discovered there was every prospect of starvation ending their career. In this emergency Dr Hayward organised an exploring expedition on a more extended scale. He divided the party into three bands--one consisting of Ned Jarring, Tomlin, and himself, to examine the shores; another comprising Joe Slag, John Mitford, and O'Connor, to penetrate the interior and higher lands; while it was appointed to Bob Massey, who had by that time come to be more frequently addressed by his old title of "coxswain," to stay at the camp, keep the all-important fire going, and guard the women. "You see, we must go about this business thoroughly," said the doctor, when they were all assembled in the camp one day after their frugal meal, excepting O'Connor, who was a short distance off, trying, with unwearied perseverance and unvaried failure, to kill gulls with stones. "And for this purpose, we must hold a council of war. Where's Terrence?" "He's pelting the gulls as usual," said Black Ned. "A-missin' of 'em, you mean," suggested Mitford. "Hallo, Terrence!" shouted Hayward, catching sight of the Irishman at that moment. "Here! we want you." "Comin', sor, jist wan more shot at this baste. He's bin flyin' round me hid for half-an-hour at laste, winkin' at the stones as they go by him. Och! missed again--bad luck to ye!" As he uttered the malediction the disappointed man heaved a last stone, angrily and without an attempt at an aim. He did not even look up to observe the result, but turned sharply round towards the camp. That stone, however, was like the arrow shot at a venture. It hit the bird full on the breast and brought it down, which fact was made known to the sportsman by a cheer from the camp and a heavy thud behind him. "Well done, Terrence!" cried Hayward as he came up with his prize. "I regard it as a good omen--a sort of turn in the tide which will encourage us on our contemplated expedition." The leader then gave minute instructions as to how long they were to be away; how much food they were to take; the direction to be followed, and the work to be done.