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If Captain Gould was not mistaken in his calculations about the geographical position of the island, the summer season could not have more than another three months to run. After that, winter would arrive, formidable by reason of its cold squalls and furious storms. The faint chance of attracting the attention of some ship out at sea by means of signals would have disappeared. In winter sailors avoid these dangerous waters. But just possibly something would happen before then to modify the situation.
Existence was much what it had been ever since that gloomy 26th of October when the boat was destroyed. The monotony was terribly trying to such active men. With nothing to do but wander about at the foot of the cliff which imprisoned them, tiring their eyes with watching the ever deserted sea, they needed extraordinary moral courage not to give way to despair.