PART II THE ABANDONED CHAPTER XXIII. CONCERNING THE LEADEN PELLET—MAKING A CANOE—HUNTING—IN THE TOP OF A KAURI—NOTHING TO INDICATE THE PRESENCE OF MAN—THE TURTLE ON ITS BACK—THE TURTLE DISAPPEARS—SMITH’S EXPLANATION. It was exactly seven months since the passengers in the balloon had been thrown upon Lincoln Island. In all this time no human being had been seen. No smoke had betrayed the presence of man upon he island. No work of man’s hands, either ancient or modern, had attested his passage. Not only did it seem uninhabited at present, but it appeared to have been so always. And now all the framework of deductions fell before a little bit of metal found in the body of a pig. It was certainly a bullet from a gun, and what but a human being would be so provided? When Pencroff had placed it upon the table, his companions looked at it with profound astonishment. The possibilities suggested by this seemingly trivial incident flashed before them. The sudden appearance of a supernatural being could not have impressed them more. Smith instantly began to reason upon the theories which this incident, as surprising as it was unexpected, suggested. Taking the bit of lead between his fingers he turned it round and about for some time before he spoke. “You are sure, Pencroff,” he asked, at length, “that the peccary was hardly three months old?” “I’m sure, sir,” answered the sailor. “It was sucking its mother when I found it in the ditch.” “Well, then, that proves that within three months a gun has been fired upon Lincoln Island.” “And that the bullet has wounded, though not mortally, this little animal,” added Spilett. “Undoubtedly,” replied Smith; “and now let us see what conclusions are to be drawn from this incident. Either the island was inhabited before our arrival, or men have landed here within three months. How these men arrived, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, whether by landing or by shipwreck, cannot be settled at present. Neither have we any means of determining whether they are Europeans or Malays, friends or enemies; nor do we know whether they are living here at present or whether they have gone. But these questions are too important to be allowed to remain undecided.” “No!” cried the sailor springing from the table. “There can be no men besides ourselves on Lincoln Island. Why, the island is not large: and if it had been inhabited, we must have met some one of its people before this.” “It would, indeed, be astonishing if we had not,” said Herbert. “But it would be much more astonishing, I think,” remarked the reporter, “if this little beast had been born with a bullet in his body!” “Unless,” suggested Neb, seriously, “Pencroff had had it—”