It was when he proposed that the island should be named for the beloved Captain.

They insisted that it be called Percival Island.
Failing in this, they advocated with great enthusiasm, but with no success, the application of Percival's name to almost every noticeable peculiarity that the island possessed.

They objected fiercely to the adoption of such titles as these: Mott Haven (the basin); Split Mountain; Gray Ridge (after the lamented Chief Engineer); Penguin Rocks; The Gate of the Winds; Top o' the Morning Peak; Dismal Forest (west of the channel); Peter Pan Wood (east of the channel); Good Luck Channel; Cypress Point; Cape Sunrise (the extreme easterly end of the island); Leap-frog River; Little Sandy and Big Sandy (the beaches); Cracko-day Farm; New Gibraltar (the western end of the island); St.Anthony Falls.
Michael O'Malley Malone christened the turbulent little waterfall up in the hills.

He liked the sound of the name, he claimed, and besides it was about time the stigma of shame that had so long rested upon the poor old saint was rewarded by complete though belated vindication.
Strange to say, no name was ever proposed for the "camp." Back in the mind of each and every member of the lost company lay the unvoiced belief,--amounting to superstition,--that it would be tempting fate to speak of this long row of cabins as anything more enduring than "the camp." Notwithstanding his dominant personality and the remarkable capacity he had for real leadership, Percival was a simple, sensitive soul.

He writhed under the lash of conspicuous adulation, and there was a good deal of it going on.
The satiric Randolph Fitts, notwithstanding his unquestioned admiration for the younger man, took an active delight in denouncing what he was prone to allude to as Percival's political aspirations.