wounded by the rifle bullet, and the three made their way up from the
shore in the hope of meeting some of the natives. The hope was
realized. About fifty natives were living by fishing off the western
coast. They had seen the aeronef descend on the island, and they
welcomed the fugitives as if they were supernatural beings. They
worshipped them, we ought rather to say. They accommodated them in
the most comfortable of their huts.

As they had expected, Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans saw nothing more
of the aeronef. They concluded that the catastrophe had taken place
in some high region of the atmosphere, and that they would hear no
more of Robur and his prodigious machine.

Meanwhile they had to wait for an opportunity of returning to
America. The Chatham Islands are not much visited by navigators, and
all August passed without sign of a ship. The fugitives began to ask
themselves if they had not exchanged one prison for another.

At last a ship came to water at the Chatham Islands. It will not have
been forgotten that when Uncle Prudent was seized he had on him
several thousand paper dollars, much more than would take him back to
America. After thanking their adorers, who were not sparing of their
most respectful demonstrations, Uncle Prudent, Phil Evans, and
Frycollin embarked for Auckland. They said nothing of their
adventures, and in two weeks landed in New Zealand.

At Auckland, a mail-boat took them on board as passengers, and after
a splendid passage the survivors of the "Albatross" stepped ashore at
San Francisco. They said nothing as to who they were or whence they
had come, but as they had paid full price for their berths no