urned had a flame once been established.
He had, therefore, to go back and search for dry leaves or moss, or some
more inflammable substance.

He found some fungus, which from its dry nature he thought would quickly
ignite. With this and his arms full of leaves, he once more made his
way back to his cave. The sun was by this time sinking low, and he was
afraid after all that its rays would be too oblique to enable him to
obtain a spark. He anxiously held the glass in its right position, and
was thankful when he saw a fine line of smoke ascending; by blowing
gently and placing some dry leaves above it, he at length obtained a
flame, with which he set the pile of leaves he had placed under the
sticks on fire.

"I am now as well off as that fellow Hargrave," he said to himself, as
he placed the shell-fish on the embers. He had never before attempted
to cook anything, and had very little notion of how it was to be done.

He saw the shells getting hotter and hotter, when on raking them out he
found the interior burnt to a cinder. "Rather overdone," he thought; "I
must not let them stay in again so long." He succeeded rather better
with the next, but had to confess that they were very tough.

Though his hunger was not satisfied, he had no inclination to eat more;
having broken the shells, he bestowed the remainder on Neptune, who
apparently preferred them raw to cooked. He eked out his scanty meal
with cocoanut, having drunk the juice, which he found very refreshing
after the salt, coarse-tasting clams. He had no longer any fear of
starving, though the food he had obtained was neither wholesome nor
palatable.

After finishing his meal, he threw himself on the sand within the shadow
of the cave, trying to reflect what he should next do, but his mind was
in a state of confusion. He could not sufficiently collect his thoughts
to arrive at any determination. Neptune lay by his side, occasionally
licking his hand, trying to amuse him. He felt the solitude to which he
was doomed trying in the extreme. The only human being on the island
beside himself, was, as far as he could tell, young Hargrave, whom he
had despised and hated, and who seemed in no way disposed to forget the
mutual ill-feeling which had so long existed, or to show him any marks
of attention. He looked out, half expecting to see his enemy approach,
but the latter had evidently taken up his abode in the further part of
the island, and kept out of hi