CYRUS IS HERE-PENCROFF’S ATTEMPTS—RUBBING WOOD—ISLAND OR CONTINENT —THE
PLANS OF THE ENGINEER—WHEREABOUTS IN THE PACIFIC—IN THE DEPTHS OF THE
FOREST—THE PISTACHIO PINE—A PIG CHASE—A SMOKE OF GOOD OMEN.
In a few words the others were informed of what had happened. This
accident, which portended serious results—at least Pencroff foresaw
such—affected each one differently. Neb, overjoyed in having recovered
his master, did not listen or did not wish to think of what Pencroff
said. Herbert shared in a measure the apprehensions of the sailor. As
to the reporter, he simply answered:—
“Upon my word, Pencroff, I don’t think it matters much!”
“But I tell you again; we have no fire!”
“Pshaw!”
“Nor any means of lighting one!”
“Absurd!”
“But, Mr. Spilett—”
“Is not Cyrus here?” asked the reporter; “Isn’t he alive? He will know
well enough how to make fire!”
“And with what?”
“With nothing!”
What could Pencroff answer? He had nothing to say, as, in his heart, he
shared his companion’s confidence in Cyrus Smith’s ability. To them the
engineer was a microcosm, a compound of all science and all knowledge.
They were better off on a desert island with Cyrus than without him in
the busiest city of the Union. With him they could want for nothing;
with him they would have no fear. If they had been told that a volcanic
eruption would overwhelm the land, sinking it into the depths of the
Pacific, the imperturbable answer of these brave men would have been,
“Have we not Cyrus!”
Meantime, the engineer had sunk into a lethargy, the result of the
journey, and his help could not be asked for just then. The supper,
therefore, would be very meagre. All the tetras had been eaten, there
was no way to cook other birds, and, finally, the couroucous which had
been reserved had disappeared. Something, therefore, must be done.
First of all, Cyrus Smith was carried into the main corridor. There
they were able to make for him a couch of seaweeds, and, doubtless, the
deep sleep in which he was plunged, would strengthen him more than an
abundant nourishment.
With night the temperature, which the northwest wind had raised, again
became very cold, and, as the sea had washed away the partitions which
Pencroff had constructed, draughts of air made the place scarcely
habitable. The engineer would therefore have been in a bad plight if
his companions had not covered him with clothing which they took from
themselves.
The supper this evening consisted of the inevitable lithodomes, an
ample supply of which Herbert and Neb had gathered from the beach. To
these the lad had added a quantity of edible seaweed which clung to the
high rocks and were only washed by the highest tides. These seaweeds,
belonging to the family of Fucaceæ, were a species of Sargassum, which,
when dry, furnish a gelatinous substance full of nutritive matter, much
used by the natives of the Asiatic coast. After having eaten a quantity
of lithodomes the reporter and his companions sucked some of the
seaweed, which they agreed was excellent.
“Nevertheless,” said the sailor, “it is time for Mr. Smith to help us.”
Meantime the cold became intense, and, unfortunately, they had no means
of protecting themselves. The sailor, much worried, tried every
possible means of procuring a fire. He had found some dry moss, and by
striking two stones together he obtained sparks; but the moss was not
sufficiently inflammable to catch fire, nor had the sparks the strength
of those struck by a steel. The operation amounted to nothing. Then
Pencroff, although he had no confidence in the result, tried rubbing
two pieces of dry wood together, after the manner of the savages. It is
true that the motion of the man, if it could have been turned into
heat, according to the new theory, would have heated the boiler of a
steamer. But it resulted in nothing except putting him in a glow, and
making the wood hot. After half an hour’s work Pencroff was in a
perspiration, and he threw away the wood in disgust.
“When you can make me believe that savages make fire after that
fashion,” said he, “it will he hot in winter! I might as well try to
light my arms by rubbing them together.”
But the sailor was wrong to deny the feasibility of this method. The
savages frequently do light wood in this way. But it requires
particular kinds of wood, and, moreover, the “knack,” and Pencroff had
not this “knack.”
Pencroff’s ill humor did not last long. The bits of wood which he had
thrown away had been picked up by Herbert, who exerted himself to rub
them well. The strong sailor could not help laughing at the boy’s weak
efforts to accomplish what he had failed in.
“Rub away, my boy; rub hard!” he cried.
“I am rubbing them,” answered Herbert, laughing, “but only to take my
turn at getting warm, instead of sitting here shivering; and pretty
soon I will be as hot as you are, Pencroff!”
This was the case, and though it was necessary for this night to give
up trying to make a fire, Spilett, stretching himself upon the sand in
one of the passages, repeated for the twentieth time that Smith could
not be baffled by such a trifle. The others followed his example, and
Top slept at the feet of his master.
The next day, the 28th of March, when the engineer awoke, about 8
o’clock, he saw his companions beside him watching, and, as on the day
before, his first words were,
“Island or continent?”
It was his one thought.
“Well, Mr. Smith,” answered Pencroff, “we don’t know.”
“You haven’t found out yet?”
“But we will,” affirmed Pencroff, “when you are able to guide us in
this country.”
“I believe that I am able to do that now,” answered the engineer, who,
without much effort, rose up and stood erect.
“That is good,” exclaimed the sailor.
“I am dying of hunger,” responded Smith. “Give me some food, my friend,
and I will feel better. You’ve fire, haven’t you?”
This question met with no immediate answer. But after some moments the
sailor said:—
“No, sir, we have no fire; at least, not now.”
And be related what had happened the day before. He amused the engineer
by recounting the history of their solitary match, and their fruitless
efforts to procure fire like the savages.
“We will think about it,” answered the engineer, “and if we cannot find
something like tinder—”
“Well,” asked the sailor.
“Well, we will make matches!”
“Friction matches?”
“Friction matches!”
“It’s no more difficult than that,” cried the reporter, slapping the
sailor on the shoulder.
The latter did not see that it would be easy, but he said nothing, and
all went out of doors. The day was beautiful. A bright sun was rising
above the sea horizon, its rays sparkling and glistening on the granite
wall. After having cast a quick look about him, the engineer seated
himself upon a rock. Herbert offered him some handfuls of mussels and
seaweed, saying:—
“It is all that we have, Mr. Smith.”
“Thank you, my boy,” answered he, “it is enough—for this morning, at
least.”
And he ate with appetite this scanty meal, washing it down with water
brought from the river in a large shell.
His companions looked on without speaking. Then, after having satisfied
himself, he crossed his arms and said:—
“Then, my friends, you do not yet know whether we have been thrown upon
an island or a continent?”
“No sir,” answered Herbert.
“We will find out to-morrow,” said the engineer. “Until then there is
nothing to do.”
“There is one thing,” suggested Pencroff.
“What is that?”
“Some fire,” replied the sailor, who thought of nothing else.
“We will have it, Pencroff,” said Smith. “But when you were carrying me
here yesterday, did not I see a mountain rising in the west?”
“Yes,” saidSpilett, “quite a high one.”
“All right,” exclaimed the engineer. “Tomorrow we will climb to its
summit and determine whether this is an island or a continent; until
then I repeat there is nothing to do.”
“But there is; we want fire!” cried the obstinate sailor again.
“Have a little patience, Pencroff, and we will have the fire,” said
Spilett.
The other looked at the reporter as much as to say, “If there was only
you to make it we would never taste roast meat.” But he kept silent.
Smith had not spoken. He seemed little concerned about this question of
fire. For some moments he remained absorbed in his own thoughts. Then
he spoke as follows:—
“My friends, our situation is, doubtless, deplorable, nevertheless it
is very simple. Either we are upon a continent, and, in that case, at
the expense of greater or less fatigue, we will reach some inhabited
place, or else we are on an island. In the latter case, it is one of
two things; if the island is inhabited, we will get out of our
difficulty by the help of the inhabitants; if it is deserted, we will
get out of it by ourselves.”
“Nothing could be plainer than that,” said Pencroff.
“But,” asked Spilett, “whether it is a continent or an island,
whereabouts do you think this storm has thrown us, Cyrus?”
“In truth, I cannot say,” replied the engineer, “but the probability is
that we are somewhere in the Pacific. When we left Richmond the wind
was northeast, and its very violence proves that its direction did not
vary much. Supposing it unchanged, we crossed North and South Carolina,
Georgia, the Gulf of Mexico, and the narrow part of Mexico, and a
portion of the Pacific Ocean. I do not estimate the distance traversed
by the balloon at less than 6,000 or 7,000 miles, and even if the wind
had varied a half a quarter it would have carried us either to the
Marquesas Islands or to the Low Archipelago; or, if it was stronger
than I suppose, as far as New Zealand. If this last hypothesis is
correct, our return home will be easy. English or Maoris, we shall
always find somebody with whom to speak. If, on the other hand, this
coast belongs to some barren island in the Micronesian Archipelago,
perhaps we can reconnoitre it from the summit of this mountain, and
then we will consider how to establish ourselves here as if we were
never going to leave it.”
“Never?” cried the reporter. “Do you say never, my dear Cyrus?”
“It is better to put things in their worst light at first,” answered
the engineer; “and to reserve those which are better, as a surprise.”
“Well said,” replied Pencroff. “And we hope that this island, if it is
an island, will not be situated just outside of the route of ships; for
that would, indeed, be unlucky.”
“We will know how to act after having first ascended the mountain,”
answered Smith.
“But will you be able, Mr. Smith, to make the climb tomorrow?” asked
Herbert.
“I hope so,” answered the engineer, “if Pencroff and you, my boy, show
yourselves to be good and ready hunters.”
“Mr. Smith,” said the sailor, “since you are speaking of game, if when
I come back I am as sure of getting it roasted as I am of bringing it—”
“Bring it, nevertheless,” interrupted Smith.
It was now agreed that the engineer and the reporter should spend the
day at the Chimneys, in order to examine the shore and the plateau,
while Neb, Herbert, and the sailor were to return to the forest, renew
the supply of wood, and lay hands on every bird and beast that should
cross their path. So, at 6 o’clock, the party left, Herbert confident.
Neb happy, and Pencroff muttering to himself:—
“If, when I get back I find a fire in the house, it will have been the
lightning that lit it!”
The three climbed the bank, and having reached the turn in the river,
the sailor stopped and said to his companions:—
“Shall we begin as hunters or wood-choppers?”
“Hunters,” answered Herbert. “See Top, who is already at it.”
“Let us hunt, then,” replied the sailor, “and on our return here we
will lay in our stock of wood.”
This said, the party made three clubs for themselves, and followed Top,
who was jumping about in the high grass.
This time, the hunters, instead of following the course of the stream,
struck at once into the depths of the forests. The trees were for the
most part of the pine family. And in certain places, where they stood
in small groups, they were of such a size as to indicate that this
country was in a higher latitude than the engineer supposed. Some
openings, bristling with stumps decayed by the weather, were covered
with dead timber which formed an inexhaustible reserve of firewood.
Then, the opening passed, the underwood became so thick as to be nearly
impenetrable.
To guide oneself among these great trees without any beaten path was
very difficult. So the sailer from time to time blazed the route by
breaking branches in a manner easily recognizable. But perhaps they
would have done better to have followed the water course, as in the
first instance, as, after an hour’s march, no game had been taken. Top,
running under the low boughs, only flushed birds that were
unapproachable. Even the couroucous were invisible, and it seemed
likely that the sailor would be obliged to return to that swampy place
where he had fished for tetras with such good luck.
“Well, Pencroff,” said Neb sarcastically, “if this is all the game you
promised to carry back to my master it won’t take much fire to roast
it!”
“Wait a bit, Neb,” answered the sailor; “it won’t be game that will be
wanting on our return.”
“Don’t you believe in Mr. Smith?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t believe be will make a fire?”
“I will believe that when the wood is blazing in the fire-place.”
“It will blaze, then, for my master has said so!”
“Well, we’ll see!”
Meanwhile the sun had not yet risen to its highest point above the
horizon. The exploration went on and was signalized by Herbert’s
discovery of a tree bearing edible fruit. It was the pistachio pine,
which bears an excellent nut, much liked in the temperate regions of
America and Europe. These nuts were perfectly ripe, and Herbert showed
them to his companions, who feasted on them.
“Well,” said Pencroff, “seaweed for bread, raw mussels for meat, and
nuts for dessert, that’s the sort of dinner for men who haven’t a match
in their pocket!”
“It’s not worth while complaining,” replied Herbert.
“I don’t complain, my boy. I simply repeat that the meat is a little
too scant in this sort of meal.”
“Top has seen something!” cried Neb, running toward a thicket into
which the dog had disappeared barking. With the dog’s barks were
mingled singular gruntings. The sailor and Herbert had followed the
negro. If it was game, this was not the time to discuss how to cook it,
but rather how to secure it.
The hunters, on entering the brush, saw Top struggling with an animal
which he held by the ear. This quadruped was a species of pig, about
two feet and a half long, of a brownish black color, somewhat lighter
under the belly, having harsh and somewhat scanty hair, and its toes at
this time strongly grasping the soil seemed joined together by
membranes.
Herbert thought that he recognized in this animal a cabiai, or
water-hog, one of the largest specimens of the order of rodents. The
water-hog did not fight the dog. Its great eyes, deep sank in thick
layers of fat, rolled stupidly from side to side. And Neb, grasping his
club firmly, was about to knock the beast down, when the latter tore
loose from Top, leaving a piece of his ear in the dog’s mouth, and
uttering a vigorous grunt, rushed against and overset Herbert and
disappeared in the wood.
“The beggar!” cried Pencroff, as they all three darted after the hog.
But just as they had come up to it again, the water-hog disappeared
under the surface of a large pond, overshadowed by tall, ancient pines.
The three companions stopped, motionless. Top had plunged into the
water, but the cabiai, hidden at the bottom of the pond, did not
appear.
“Wait,”, said the boy, “he will have to come to the surface to
breathe.”
“Won’t he drown?” asked Neb.
“No,” answered Herbert, “since he is fin-toed and almost amphibious.
But watch for him.”
Top remained in the water, and Pencroff and his companions took
stations upon the bank, to cut off the animal’s retreat, while the dog
swam to and fro looking for him.
Herbert was not mistaken. In a few minutes the animal came again to the
surface. Top was upon him at once, keeping him from diving again, and a
moment later, the cabiai, dragged to the shore, was struck down by a
blow from Neb’s club.
“Hurrah!” cried Pencroff with all his heart. “Nothing but a clear fire,
and this gnawer shall be gnawed to the bone.”
Pencroff lifted the carcase to his shoulder, and judging by the sun
that it must be near 2 o’clock, he gave the signal to return.
Top’s instinct was useful to the hunters, as, thanks to that
intelligent animal, they were enabled to return upon their steps. In
half an hour they had reached the bend of the river. There, as before,
Pencroff quickly constructed a raft, although, lacking fire, this
seemed to him a useless job, and, with the raft keeping the current,
they returned towards the Chimneys. But the sailor had not gone fifty
paces when he stopped and gave utterance anew to a tremendous hurrah,
and extending his hand towards the angle of the cliff—
“Herbert! Neb! See!” he cried.
Smoke was escaping and curling above the rocks!