“An island’s an island, no matter how big,” said Pencroff. But this important question could not yet be decided. The country itself, isle or continent, seemed fertile, picturesque, and diversified in its products. For that they must be grateful. They returned along the southern ridge of the granite plateau, outlined by a fringe of fantastic rocks, in whose cavities lived hundreds of birds. A whole flock of them soared aloft as Herbert jumped over the rocks. “Ah!” cried he, “these are neither gulls nor sea-mews.” “What are they?” said Pencroff. “They look for all the world like pigeons.” “So they are,” said Herbert, “but they are wild pigeons, or rock pigeons.” I know them by the two black bands on the wing, the white rump, and the ash-blue feathers. The rock pigeon is good to eat, and its eggs ought to be delicious; and if they have left a few in their nests—” “We will let them hatch in an omelet,” said Pencroff, gaily. “But what will you make your omelet in?” asked Herbert; “in your hat?” “I am not quite conjurer enough for that,” said the sailor. “We must fall back on eggs in the shell, and I will undertake to despatch the hardest.” Pencroff and the boy examined carefully the cavities of the granite, and succeeded in discovering eggs in some of them. Some dozens were collected in the sailor’s handkerchief, and, high tide approaching, the two went down again to the water-course. It was 1 o’clock when they arrived at the elbow of the river, and the tide was already on the turn. Pencroff had no intention of letting his timber float at random, nor did he wish to get on and steer it. But a sailor is never troubled in a matter of ropes or cordage, and Pencroff quickly twisted from the dry lianas a rope several fathoms long. This was fastened behind the raft, and the sailor held it in his hand, while Herbert kept the float in the current by pushing it off from the shore with a long pole. This expedient proved an entire success. The enormous load of wood kept well in the current. The banks were sheer, and there was no fear lest the float should ground; before 2 o’clock they reached the mouth of the stream, a few feet from the Chimneys. CHAPTER V. ARRANGING THE CHIMNEYS—THE IMPORTANT QUESTION OF FIRE—THE MATCH BOX—SEARCH OVER THE SHORE—RETURN OF THE REPORTER AND NEB—ONE MATCH—THE CRACKLING FIRE—THE FISH SUPPER—THE FIRST NIGHT ON LAND.