other.
Herbert was the first to break the silence by saying, "Mr. Spilett,
you are a smoker and always have matches about you; perhaps you haven't
looked well, try again, a single match will be enough!"

The reporter hunted again in the pockets of his trousers, waistcoat, and
great-coat, and at last to Pencroft's great joy, no less to his extreme
surprise, he felt a tiny piece of wood entangled in the lining of his
waistcoat. He seized it with his fingers through the stuff, but he could
not get it out. If this was a match and a single one, it was of great
importance not to rub off the phosphorus.

"Will you let me try?" said the boy, and very cleverly, without breaking
it, he managed to draw out the wretched yet precious little bit of wood
which was of such great importance to these poor men. It was unused.

"Hurrah!" cried Pencroft; "it is as good as having a whole cargo!" He
took the match, and, followed by his companions, entered the cave.

This small piece of wood, of which so many in an inhabited country are
wasted with indifference and are of no value, must here be used with the
greatest caution.

The sailor first made sure that it was quite dry; that done, "We must
have some paper," said he.

"Here," replied Spilett, after some hesitation tearing a leaf out of his
note-book.

Pencroft took the piece of paper which the reporter held out to him, and
knelt down before the fireplace. Some handfuls of grass, leaves, and dry
moss were placed under the fagots and disposed in such a way that the
air could easily circulate, and the dry wood would rapidly catch fire.

Pencroft then twisted the piece of paper into the shape of a cone, as
smokers do in a high wind, and poked it in among the moss. Taking a
small, rough stone, he wiped it carefully, and with a beating heart,
holding his breath, he gently rubbed the match. The first attempt did
not produce any effect. Pencroft had not struck hard enough, fearing to
rub off the phosphorus.

"No, I can't do it," said he, "my hand trembles, the match has missed
fire; I cannot, I will not!" and rising, he told Herbert to take his
place.

Certainly the boy had never in all his life been so nervous. Prometheus
going to steal the fire from heaven could not have been more anxious. He
did not hesitate, however, but struck the match directly.

A little spluttering was heard and a tiny blue flame sprang up, making
a choking smoke. Herbert quickly turned the match so as to aug