CHAPTER XII
THE SEPARATION
It was the 10th of October. The influence of the warm season was making itself felt. Beneath the trees, clothed in their fresh verdure, the ground had resumed the garb of spring. A pleasant breeze rippled the surface of the water, now lighted by the last rays of the sun which lingered on the vast plain of South Moors. A narrow beach of sand formed the border of the moor. Flocks of birds with much noise flew overhead on their way to rest for the night in the shadow of the woods or the crevices of the cliff. A few groups of evergreen trees, pines, green oaks, and a few acres of firs alone broke the monotonous barrenness of this part of Charman Island.
A fire was burning at the foot of a pine-tree, and its fragrant smoke was drifting over the marsh. A couple of ducks were cooking over the fire. Supper over, the four boys had nothing to do but to wrap themselves up in their rugs, and, while one watched, three of them could sleep.
They were Donagan, Cross, Webb, and Wilcox. And the circumstances under which they had separated from their companions were these.
During the later months of the second winter, the relations between Donagan and Briant had become more strained than ever. It will not have been forgotten with what envy Donagan had seen the election of his rival.
More jealous and irritable than ever, it was with the greatest difficulty he submitted to the orders of the new chief of Charman Island. That he did not resist openly was because the majority would not support
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