It took three weeks of steady work to build this bridge. And as the weather was fine they lunched on the ground, and only returned to Granite House for supper. During this period it was observed that Master Jup took kindly to and familiarized himself with his new masters, whom he watched with the greatest curiosity. Nevertheless, Pencroff was careful not to give him complete liberty until the limits of the plateau had been rendered impassible. Top and he were the best possible friends, and got on capitally together although Jup took everything gravely. The bridge was finished on the 20th of November. The movable part balanced perfectly with the counterpoise, and needed but little effort to raise it; between the hinge and crossbeam on which the draw rested when closed, the distance was twenty feet, a gap sufficiently wide to prevent animals from getting across. It was next proposed to go for the envelope of the balloon, which the colonists were anxious to place in safety; but in order to bring it, the cart would have to be dragged to Balloon Harbor, necessitating the breaking of a road through the dense underwood of the Far West, all of which would take time. Therefore Neb and Pencroff made an excursion to the harbor, and as they reported that the supply of cloth was well protected in the cave, it was decided that the works about the plateau should not be discontinued. “This,” said Pencroff, “will enable us to establish the poultry-yard under the most advantageous conditions, since we need have no fear of the visits of foxes or other noxious animals.” “And also,” added Neb, “we can clear the plateau, and transplant wild plants”— “And make ready our second corn-field,” continued the sailor with a triumphant air. Indeed the first corn-field, sowed with a single grain, had prospered admirably, thanks to the care of Pencroff. It had produced the ten ears foretold by the engineer, and as each ear had eighty grains, the colonists found themselves possessed of 800 grains—in six months—which promised them a double harvest each year. These 800 grains, excepting fifty which it was prudent to reserve, were now about to be sowed in a new field with as much care as the first solitary specimen. The field was prepared, and inclosed with high, sharp-pointed palisades, which quadrupeds would have found very difficult to surmount. As to the birds, the noisy whirligigs and astonishing scarecrows, the product of Pencroff’s genius, were enough to keep them at a distance. Then the 750 grains were buried in little hills, regularly disposed, and Nature was left to do the rest.