dispersed in the air in such innumerable flakes that the light of the
sun was obscured for some minutes.

"Birds!" cried Herbert.

They were indeed swarms of sea-birds, with dazzling white plumage.
They had perched by thousands on the islet and on the shore, and they
disappeared in the distance, leaving the colonists amazed as if they
had been present at some transformation scene, in which summer succeeded
winter at the touch of a fairy's wand. Unfortunately the change had been
so sudden, that neither the reporter nor the lad had been able to bring
down one of these birds, of which they could not recognize the species.

A few days after came the 26th of March, the day on which, two years
before, the castaways from the air had been thrown upon Lincoln Island.

Chapter 19

Two years already! and for two years the colonists had had no
communication with their fellow-creatures! They were without news from
the civilized world, lost on this island, as completely as if they had
been on the most minute star of the celestial hemisphere!

What was now happening in their country? The picture of their native
land was always before their eyes, the land torn by civil war at the
time they left it, and which the Southern rebellion was perhaps still
staining with blood! It was a great sorrow to them, and they often
talked together of these things, without ever doubting however that
the cause of the North must triumph, for the honor of the American
Confederation.

During these two years not a vessel had passed in sight of the island;
or, at least, not a sail had been seen. It was evident that Lincoln
Island was out of the usual track, and also that it was unknown,--as was
besides proved by the maps,--for though there was no port, vessels might
have visited it for the purpose of renewing their store of water. But
the surrounding ocean was deserted as far as the eye could reach, and
the colonists must rely on themselves for regaining their native land.

However, one chance of rescue existed, and this chance was discussed
one day on the first week of April, when the colonists were gathered
together in the dining-room of Granite House.

They had been talking of America, of their native country, which they
had so little hope of ever seeing again.

"Decidedly we have only one way," said Spilett, "one single way for
leaving Lincoln Island, and that is, to build a vessel large enough to
sail several hundred miles. It appears to m