They hunted there, among the shingle, in the clefts of the rocks, but found nothing.
If the box had fallen at this place it must have been swept away by the waves.

As the sea went down, they searched every little crevice with no result.

It was a grave loss in their circumstances, and for the time irreparable.

Pencroft could not hide his vexation; he looked very anxious, but said not a word.

Herbert tried to console him by observing, that if they had found the matches, they would, very likely, have been wetted by the sea and useless.
"No, my boy," replied the sailor; "they were in a copper box which shut very tightly; and now what are we to do ?" "We shall certainly find some way of making a fire," said Herbert.
"Captain Harding or Mr.Spilett will not be without them." "Yes," replied Pencroft; "but in the meantime we are without fire, and our companions will find but a sorry repast on their return." "But," said Herbert quickly, "do you think it possible that they have no tinder or matches ?" "I doubt it," replied the sailor, shaking his head, "for neither Neb nor Captain Harding smoke, and I believe that Mr.Spilett would rather keep his note-book than his match-box." Herbert did not reply.