“One would say he was laughing!” exclaimed Pencroff. And if Jup had not been satisfied, he must have been hard to please. But there it was, and he contemplated his image with such a sentimental air, that it was evident he was a little conceited. The heat of the summer ended with March. The season was rainy, but the air was still warm, and the month was not as pleasant as they had expected. Perhaps it foreboded an early and a rigorous winter. One morning, the 21st, Herbert had risen early, and, looking from the window, exclaimed:— “Hullo, the islet is covered with snow!” “Snow at this season!” cried the reporter, joining the lad. Their companions were soon beside them, and every one saw that not only the islet, but that the entire beach below Granite House, was covered with the white mantle. “It is, indeed, snow,” said Pencroff. “Or something very much like it,” replied Neb. “But the thermometer stands at 58°,” said Spilett. Smith looked at the white covering without speaking, for he was, indeed, at a loss how to explain such a phenomenon in this season and in this temperature. “The deuce!” cried the sailor; “our crops will have been frost-bitten.” And he was about descending when Jup sprang before him and slid down the rope to the ground. The orang had scarcely touched the earth before the immense body of snow rose and scattered itself through the air in such innumerable flocks as to darken all the heavens for a time. “They are birds!” cried Herbert. The effect had, indeed, been produced by myriads of sea-birds, with plumage of brilliant whiteness. They had come from hundreds of miles around on to the islet and the coast, and they now disappeared in the horizon, leaving the colonists as amazed as if they had witnessed a transformation scene, from winter to summer, in some fancy spectacle. Unfortunately, the change had been so sudden that neither the reporter nor the lad had had an opportunity of knocking over some of these birds, whose species they did not recognize. A few days later, and it was the 26th of March. Two years had passed since the balloon had been thrown upon Lincoln Island. CHAPTER XLI. THOUGHTS OF HOME—CHANCES OF RETURN —PLAN TO EXPLORE THE COAST—THE DEPARTURE OF THE 16TH OF APRIL—SERPENTINE PENINSULA SEEN FROM SEA—THE BASALTIC CLIFFS OF THE WESTERN COAST—BAD WEATHER—NIGHT—A NEW INCIDENT. Two years already! For two years the colonists had had no communication with their fellows! They knew no more of what was happening in the world, lost upon this island, than if they had been upon the most distant asteroid of the solar system.