"My uncle's a captain, you know, and he says there are hundreds of islands like it, the jolliest places you ever saw, any amount of food, no wild animals, splendid weather all the year round, magnificent mountains and valleys and woods and bays, gorgeous fishing and hunting, oceans of fruit trees, everything a fellow could wish for, and not a soul on one of them." "Rum," said Bowler reflectively; "seems rather a waste of jolly islands that." "Yes; but the thing is they're hundreds of miles away from inhabited islands, so no one ever sees them." "Except your uncle.

I wonder he wasn't tempted to get out and take possession of one." "That's just exactly what he said he was tempted to do," replied Gayford, stopping short excitedly.

"He said very little would have tempted him to do it, Bowler." "Oh!" was Bowler's only reply.
"And I tell you another thing," continued Gayford, "he gave me an old chart with the identical island he saw marked on it, and I've got it in my box, my boy." "Have you, though ?" said Bowler.

"I'd like to have a look at it." That evening the two boys held a solemn consultation in their study over Captain Gayford's chart, and Gayford triumphantly pointed out the little island to his friend.
"There he is," said he; "he doesn't look a big one there, but he's eight or ten miles across, my uncle says." "That seems a fair size--but, I say," said Bowler, "how about getting there?
How could any one find it out ?" Gayford laughed.
"You're coming round, then," said he; "why, you old noodle, you couldn't possibly miss it.

Do you see that town called Sinnamary (what a name, eh ?) on the coast of South Africa?
Well, don't you see the island's dead north from there as straight as ever you can go?
All you want is a compass and a southerly breeze--and there you are, my boy." "But what about currents and all that ?" queried Bowler, who knew a little physical geography.