These “cats-tails”—were slender cyrrhi, scattered high above, in the zenith. These feathery messengers usually announce the near disturbance of the elements. “Very well, then,” said Smith, “crowd on all sail and make for Shark Gulf. There, I think the sloop will be safe.” “Perfectly,” replied the sailor, “and, moreover, the north coast is nothing but uninteresting downs.” “I shall not regret,” added the engineer, “passing, not only the night, but also tomorrow in that bay, which deserves to be explored with care.” “I guess we’ll have to, whether we want to or no,” replied Pencroff, “as it is beginning to be threatening in the west. See how dirty it looks!” “Any how, we have a good wind to make Mandible Cape,” observed the reporter. “First rate; but, we will have to tack to get into the gulf, and I would rather have clear weather in those parts which I know nothing about.” “Parts which are sown with reefs,” added Herbert, “if I may judge from what we have seen of the coast to the south of the gulf.” “Pencroff,” said Smith, “do whatever you think best, we leave everything to you.” “Rest assured, sir,” responded the sailor, “I will not run any unnecessary risk. I would rather have a knife in my vitals, than that my Good Luck should run on a rock!” “What time is it?” asked Pencroff. “10 o’clock.” “And how far is it to the cape?” “About fifteen miles.” “That will take two hours and a half. Unfortunately, the tide then will be going down, and it will be a hard matter to enter the gulf with wind and tide against us.” “Moreover,” said Herbert, “it is full moon to-day, and these April tides are very strong.” “But, Pencroff,” asked Smith, “cannot you anchor at the cape?” “Anchor close to land, with bad weather coming on!” cried the sailor. “That would be to run ourselves ashore.” “Then what will you do?” “Keep off, if possible, until the tide turns, which will be about 1 o’clock, and if there is any daylight left try to enter the gulf; if not, we will beat on and off until daylight.” “I have said, Pencroff, that we will leave everything to your judgment.” “Ah,” said Pencroff, “if only there was a light-house on this coast it would be easier for sailors.” “Yes,” answered Herbert, “and this time we have no thoughtful engineer to light a fire to guide us into harbor.” “By the way, Cyrus,” said Spilett, “we have never thanked you for that; but indeed, without that fire we would not have reached—” “A fire?” demanded Smith, astounded by the words of the reporter. “We wish to say, sir,” said Pencroff, “that we would have been in a bad fix on board the Good Luck, when we were nearly back, and that we would have passed to windward of the island unless you had taken the precaution to light a fire, on the night of the 19th of October, upon the plateau above Granite House.” “Oh, yes, yes! It was a happy thought!” replied Smith. “And now,” added Pencroff, “unless Ayrton thinks of it, there is not a soul to do us this little service.”