morning about eight o'clock
To all these bewildering inquiries Dick could find no answer except to imagine that his compass had misled him . Yet he was powerless to put his own misgivings to the test ; he deplored more than ever the destruction of the duplicate instrument which would have checked his registers . He studied his chart ; but all in vain ; the position in which he found himself as the result of Negoro 's treachery , seemed to baffle him the more , the more he tried to solve the mystery . The days were passing on in this chronic state of anxiety , when one morning about eight o'clock , Hercules , who was on watch at the fore , suddenly shouted , -- `` Land ! '' Dick Sands had little reliance upon the negro 's inexperienced eye , but hurried forward to the bow . `` Where 's the land ? '' he cried ; his voice being scarcely audible above the howling of the tempest .