I watched her run like a small green dart, skimming over the rocks until she was in among the prickly pears and I could no longer make her out. I felt hollow. She was a lizard, a wild animal. I would never know what she was thinking, and I couldn’t expect her to remain at my side all the day.

Farthing came back before; she’d come back again.

Not like you can take her with you anyway.

I didn’t have anything to say to that.

I smoothed the rosin into the seams between the boat slats as the sun beat mercilessly on my head and neck, then left my handiwork to set in the shade of a rock and brought the copper pot, the knife, and Scratch up from the cave. I couldn’t just leave with no provisions at all. I needed water, food.

I stared out to sea. It was flat now and there was no wind. If only I could make it back to Albemarle. If the Beagle had already left, I had a chance of survival there, on the largest island, with a supply of fresh water. The currents were difficult in the channels between islands and I would likely be swept into open ocean. I was no navigator, but Robbins had taught me to find my way using the stars. How would that help me when I had no way to steer, though?

Stay bricky.

One thing at a time.

At least with the knife I could collect prickly pears myself. I stared along the wide horizon and back at the tiny boat.

Mr. Darwin’s eyeglass was still wound around my wrist and the sun was burning. I didn’t need to leave right away. I should set a fire on the beach. It was a clear day and if the Beagle did pass by …

You’re waiting for the lizard.

I didn’t have an answer to that either.

I filled my mind with the task of creating fire, collecting driftwood from the mud pools, and leaving the twigs and scraps to dry on the rock. I sharpened the knife to a keen silver edge with a stone, then used it to shave threads off the end of the rope until I had a little pile. Over these I added a steeple of sticks.

Not going to manage much fire with that.

“I’m only trying it now, and if it works, I can forage inland for more wood later.”

Sounds like a good excuse to search for the lizard.

It was true, I couldn’t stop thinking about Farthing and how she’d darted off so suddenly. Where had she gone? I took Mr. Darwin’s eyeglass and squeezed it tight in my hand. The young gentleman said he saw nature’s magic through that glass.

I tilted the lens back and forth in the sun, finally concentrating a thin beam, until my pile of kindling began to smolder. I laughed out loud. I hadn’t expected it to actually work! I held the beam steady as I crouched over it, blowing gently, cupping my other hand around the smoke, coaxing and cajoling and finally charming a tiny tongue of yellow flame.