"Who knows, Johnny," suggested Max, "but these strange little birds, as they seem to be, are no birds, after all, but an unfortunate prince and princess, who having incurred the resentment of some potent enchanter, have been transformed by his magical arts into their present shape, and banished to this desert island; and have now come to us for sympathy and assistance--see what a mournful expression there is in their mild dark eyes!" Johnny was pleased with the conceit, and the little tern were always afterwards known as the prince and princess. They frequently came hovering around us in the most friendly and fearless manner, when we were in that part of the island. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. THE PROGRESS OF DISCOVERY. A VOICE IN THE WOODS--VIVE NAPOLEON!--CALCULATING THE LONGITUDE--THE "WILD FRENCHMAN'S" HAT. _Stephano_. Hark! what sound is that? _Caliban_. Art thou afeard, master? _Stephano_. No, monster, not I. _Caliban_. Be not afeard: the isle is full of noises. Our failure to discover fresh water, or any indications of it, during yesterday's expedition, increased the anxiety which we felt on the subject and we determined to devote the day to a continuation of the search. The base of Castle-Hill was skirted on the left and divided from the neighbouring forest by a deep gully, that had much the appearance of a dried-up water-course, and was probably a channel by which, in the rainy season, the water from the higher ground was conveyed to the sea. From the hill we could trace the course of the ravine, until it struck the beach, near the point where the small grove, before spoken of, seemed to spring up out of the lagoon. Our last evening's ramble along the shore had extended nearly to this spot and to avoid going over the same ground a second time, we struck into the ravine, and followed its course as it descended towards the beach.