After a walk of a mile and a half, the shore presented no curve which would permit them to return to the north.

This promontory, of which they had turned the point, must be attached to the mainland.

The castaways, although their strength was nearly exhausted, still marched courageously forward, hoping every moment to meet with a sudden angle which would set them in the first direction.

What was their disappointment, when, after trudging nearly two miles, having reached an elevated point composed of slippery rocks, they found themselves again stopped by the sea.
"We are on an islet," said Pencroft, "and we have surveyed it from one extremity to the other." The sailor was right; they had been thrown, not on a continent, not even on an island, but on an islet which was not more than two miles in length, with even a less breadth.
Was this barren spot the desolate refuge of sea-birds, strewn with stones and destitute of vegetation, attached to a more important archipelago?
It was impossible to say.

When the voyagers from their car saw the land through the mist, they had not been able to reconnoiter it sufficiently.