The trees were of small account, none of them bearing fruit fit to eat.
Some of the bushes contained berries, and Ned began to gather a cupful.
"Go slow there, Ned," said the captain.

"They may be poisonous." "They can't be--for I saw the birds feeding on, them," said Bob.
"Oh, well, then it is all right." But the berries proved rather bitter to the taste and nobody felt like eating many of them.

Tim started a fire, and over this they broiled and roasted the birds, each fixing the evening meal in the way that best suited him.
"Are there any cannibals here ?" asked Mr.Tarbill.
"I don't believe there is a soul on the island besides ourselves," answered the captain.
"I can't go to sleep if there are cannibals," groaned the nervous passenger.
As late as it was, Bob, Ned and the captain took a tramp around the island.

It was not over a quarter of a mile long and an eighth of a mile wide.

There was fairly good walking close to the shore, but the interior was a mass of stunted trees, thorny bushes and long trailing vines, to get through which was impossible.
"I haven't seen what I'd like most to see," said the captain, after the walk was ended.
"What is that ?" questioned Bob.
"A spring of good, fresh water." "That's so--we didn't see any spring at all!" exclaimed Ned Scudd.
"Too bad! We need water." The castaways were thoroughly tired out, and that night all went to bed and slept soundly.