Men in straits cannot afford to sit down to grieve and mope over their sorrows. Although a deep gloom had been cast over the shipwrecked party by the loss of one whom they had learned to respect, the urgent need of obtaining better food and shelter compelled them, as we have said, to give their whole mind and attention to this work.  
They pitied poor Peggy sincerely, however, and endeavoured to comfort her a little by raising the hope that her husband might have merely lost himself in the woods of the island, and would yet, perhaps, be found alive and well. But, although their intentions were kindly, they could comfort neither Peggy nor themselves with such a hope; for their experience convinced them that the woods, although thick and tangled, were not extensive enough for any one to be permanently lost in them, and it seemed quite certain that if the lost man had not met with some fatal accident, he would certainly have made his way to the coast, by following which he could have easily found the camp.
 
“It is very sad to give over our search for poor Mitford,” said Dr Hayward one morning, while seated on a ledge of rock near the beach, taking counsel with his male companions as to the order of procedure for the day, “but we cannot afford to delay our operations longer. This poor fare of mussel soup, with such a small allowance of pork, is beginning to injure the health of our women, not to mention ourselves; besides, the pork won’t last long, even though we put ourselves on the shortest possible allowance; so I think that to-day we must go on an expedition after the seals we saw the last time we went to the southern end of the island. What say you, comrades?”
 
“All right, cap’n,” answered Massey. “You’ve only got to say the word. But who’s to stop at home to mind the camp-fire and the women?”
 
“I’m afraid,” returned Hayward, with a deprecatory smile, “that it’s your own turn, Bob. I would say that I’m sorry for you, were it not ungallant to pity a man for being condemned for a day to female society.”
 
The way in which the coxswain received this showed that he did not repine at his fate. He did not even object to O’Connor’s remark that, “Faix, he might consider himself the luckiest man o’ the lot!”
 
Accordingly, Massey remained at the camp while the doctor, Slag, O’Connor, Tomlin, and Jarring set out on a hunting expedition with two days’ cooked provisions in their wallets. The doctor and Tomlin armed themselves with spears, but Jarring and Slag preferred clubs.
 
“You see,” said the latter, “I’ve heard—though I can’t rightly say I’ve seed it done myself—that the seal-hunters o’ the north do their work wi’ clubs; so, if one man can kill a seal wi’ such a thing, I don’t see why another shouldn’t.”
 
And, truly, there was some reason for this covert boast; for Joe, besides possessing arms of prodigious power, had cut and shaped for himself a knotted club which might have suited the hand of Hercules himself.
 
It turned out that Bob Massey’s satisfaction at being left behind that day was not altogether the result of regard for female society. While he was sauntering back to the camp, after his comrades had left, he congratulated himself aloud on having at last a chance of making his experiment without being laughed at during the trial. “That is—if Nellie has got enough of line made.”
 
At that moment Nell was busy with the line in question, and at the same time doing her best to comfort Mrs Mitford—Mrs Hayward being engaged in preparing dinner; by no means a difficult duty, which the women undertook day about.
 
“Keep up your spirits, dear Peggy,” said Nell, in that sweet, cosy tone—if we may say so—which played such havoc in Bob’s bosom at the time when she was known as the coxswain’s bride. “I feel sure that your dear husband will return to us. No doubt, some sort o’ misfortune has come to him; but he’s such a sensible, handy man, is John, that I can’t help feelin’ he’ll come back to us; an’ when I feel anything very strongly, d’ee know, I’ve almost always found it come true. Do you believe in strong feelin’, Peggy?”
 
Poor Mrs Mitford, who had been sitting with her hands clasped in her lap, and an utterly woebegone expression on her pale face, raised her head with a troubled look on being thus directly appealed to.
 
“Believe in strong feelin’s, Nellie? I should just think I do. Not to mention my own feelin’s—which are so strong that I never felt nothink like ’em before—any one who has been married to my John must know well what st–strong—oh! no, I shall never see ’im again; dear Nellie, don’t tell me,” she said, beginning to cry. “I know—I know—”
 
“There, now—there’s a good soul. Don’t go off again. Look! D’ee know what this is for?”
 
As she spoke, Nellie held up a ball of what appeared to be twine, and her companion—whose mind resembled that of a child, in that it could be easily diverted—said no, she didn’t know what it was for, and that she, (Peggy), had seen her making it when the men were off excursioning, and had asked about it; and why didn’t she, (Nellie), relieve her curiosity before, upon the point, instead of waitin’ till now?
 
“Well, you see, Peggy,” replied her friend, with the confidential air of one who has a secret to tell, “my Bob has took it into his head to give his mates a surprise by fishin’ for albatrosses.”
 
“Lawks! Nellie, an’ that will give ’em a surprise!” interrupted Mrs Mitford, drying her eyes. “How ever can any man fish for a bird—unless, indeed, it goes under water an’ changes its nature, which no creetur can do; though, now I come to think of it, I have seen flyin’ fish, an’ so, perhaps, there may be albytresses, or other birds, that—”
 
“Hallo! Nellie, hard at the twine, lass? You’ve made about enough of it now,” cried our coxswain, entering the camp at that moment, sitting down beside his wife, and examining the ball of cord which she had been so busily spinning.
 
“I’m glad you think there’s enough, Bob, for I’ve come to the end o’ the stuff you gathered for me.”
 
“Plenty more where that came from, Nell; but there’s no need to gather more than enough; for enough, you know, is as good as a feast. Well, Peggy,” he added, turning to the poor woman, and patting her gently on the shoulder, “has Nell been tellin’ you what I’m goin’ to try?”
 
“She was beginnin’ to tell me, Mr Massey, when you came in, something about fishin’ for albytresses, an’ I always thought albytresses was birds, and—”
 
“Quite right, Peggy. See, this is how it is: you bait a hook—but come,” said the coxswain, rising suddenly, and taking up the ball of twine, “they do say example’s better than precept. Come along wi’ me an’ Nell, an’ we’ll show you how to do it.”
 
So saying, Massey led the two women down to the boat, telling Mrs Hayward, whom they passed on the way, to heave some more sticks on the fire, as it was getting low.
 
“Never fear,” said Eva, who carried the baling-dish full of shell-fish in her hands. “I shall never forget the fright we got that time Joe let it get so low that it was almost at the last spark. You won’t be long away, will you?”
 
“Not long. Anyhow, we’ll be sure to turn up for dinner.”
 
During their short residence on the island, the coxswain had observed that albatrosses paid them frequent visits. The giant birds had exhibited some signs of curiosity............