egrees, and in which the
wool was soaked for four-and-twenty hours; it was then thoroughly
washed in baths of soda, and, when sufficiently dried by pressure, it
was in a state to be compressed, that is to say, to produce a solid
material, rough, no doubt, and such as would have no value in a
manufacturing centre of Europe or America, but which would be highly
esteemed in the Lincoln Island markets.

This sort of material must have been known from the most ancient
times, and, in fact, the first woollen stuffs were manufactured by the
process which Harding was now about to employ. Where Harding's
engineering qualifications now came into play was in the construction
of the machine for pressing the wool, for he knew how to turn
ingeniously to profit the mechanical force, hitherto unused, which the
waterfall on the beach possessed to move a fulling-mill.

Nothing could be more rudimentary. The wool was placed in troughs, and
upon it fell in turns heavy wooden mallets, such was the machine in
question, and such it had been for centuries until the time when the
mallets were replaced by cylinders of compression, and the material
was no longer subjected to beating, but to regular rolling.

The operation, ably directed by Cyrus Harding, was a complete success.
The wool, previously impregnated with a solution of soap, intended on
the one hand to facilitate the interlacing, the compression, and the
softening of the wool, and on the other to prevent its diminution by
the beating, issued from the mill in the shape of thick felt cloth.
The roughnesses with which the staple of wool is naturally filled were
so thoroughly entangled and interlaced together that a material was
formed equally suitable either for garments or bedclothes. It was
certainly neither merino, muslin, cashmere, rep, satin, alpaca, cloth,
nor flannel. It was "Lincolnian felt," and Lincoln Island possessed
yet another manufacture. The colonists had now warm garments and thick
bedclothes, and they could without fear await the approach of the
winter of 1866-67.

The severe cold began to be felt about the 20th of June, and, to his
great regret, Pencroft was obliged to suspend his boat-building, which
he hoped to finish in time for next spring.

The sailor's great idea was to make a voyage of discovery to Tabor
Island, although Harding could not approve of a voyage simply for
curiosity's sake, for there was evidently nothing to be found on this
desert and almost ari