"Jules Verne. The Mysterious Island" - читать интересную книгу автора

two bits of dry stick one against the other."

"All right; try, my boy, and let's see if you can do anything besides
exercising your arms."

"Well, it's a very simple proceeding, and much used in the islands of the
Pacific."

"I don't deny it," replied Pencroft, "but the savages must know how to do
it or employ a peculiar wood, for more than once I have tried to get fire
in that way, but I could never manage it. I must say I prefer matches. By
the bye, where are my matches?"

Pencroft searched in his waistcoat for the box, which was always there,
for he was a confirmed smoker. He could not find it; he rummaged the
pockets of his trousers, but, to his horror, he could nowhere discover the
box.

"Here's a go!" said he, looking at Herbert. "The box must have fallen out
of my pocket and got lost! Surely, Herbert, you must have something--a
tinder-box--anything that can possibly make fire!"

"No, I haven't, Pencroft."

The sailor rushed out, followed by the boy. On the sand, among the rocks,
near the river's bank, they both searched carefully, but in vain. The box
was of copper, and therefore would have been easily seen.

"Pencroft," asked Herbert, "didn't you throw it out of the car?"

"I knew better than that," replied the sailor; "but such a small article
could easily disappear in the tumbling about we have gone through. I would
rather even have lost my pipe! Confound the box! Where can it be?"

"Look here, the tide is going down," said Herbert; "let's run to the
place where we landed."

It was scarcely probable that they would find the box, which the waves
had rolled about among the pebbles, at high tide, but it was as well to
try. Herbert and Pencroft walked rapidly to the point where they had landed
the day before, about two hundred feet from the cave. 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.