shaken Mark's hope of ever getting the ship from among them, and he even
doubted the possibility of bringing her down, before the wind, to the
place where he was then going. All these considerations, which began to
press more and more painfully on his mind, each foot as he advanced,
served to increase the intensity of the interest with which he noted
every appearance on, or about, the reef, or island, that he was now
approaching. Bob had less feeling on the subject. He had less
imagination, and foresaw consequences and effects less vividly than his
officer, and was more accustomed to the vicissitudes of a seaman's life.
Then he had left no virgin bride at home, to look for his return; and
had moreover made up his mind that it was the will of Providence that he
and Mark were to 'Robinson Crusoe it' awhile, on 'that bit of a reef.'
Whether they should ever be rescued from so desolate a place, was a
point on which he had not yet begun to ponder.

The appearances were anything but encouraging, as the dingui drew nearer
and nearer to the naked part of the reef. The opinions formed of this
place, by the examination made from the cross-trees, turned out to be
tolerably accurate, in several particulars. It was just about a mile in
length, while its breadth varied from half a mile to less than an eighth
of a mile. On its shores, the rock along most of the reef rose but a
very few feet above the surface of the water, though at its eastern, or
the weather extremity, it might have been of more than twice the usual
height; its length lay nearly east and west. In the centre of this
island, however, there was a singular formation of the rock, which
appeared to rise to an elevation of something like sixty or eighty feet,
making a sort of a regular circular mound of that height, which occupied
no small part of the widest portion of the island. Nothing like tree,
shrub, or grass, was visible, as the boat drew near enough to render
such things apparent. Of aquatic birds there were a good many: though