THE TRAPS—THE FOXES—THE PECCARIES —THE WIND VEERS TO THE NORTHWEST —THE
SNOW-STORM—THE BASKET-MAKERS —THE COLDEST SNAP OF WINTER
—CRYSTALLIZATION OF THE SUGAR-MAPLE —THE MYSTERIOUS SHAFTS—THE
PROJECTED EXPLORATION—THE PELLET OF LEAD.
The intense cold lasted until the 15th of August, the thermometer never
rising above the point hitherto observed. When the atmosphere was calm
this low temperature could be easily borne; but when the wind blew, the
poor fellows suffered much for want of warmer clothing. Pencroff
regretted that Lincoln Island, instead of harboring so many foxes and
seals, with no fur to speak of, did not shelter some families of bears.
“Bears,” said he, “are generally well dressed; and I would ask nothing
better for the winter than the loan of their warm cloaks.”.
“But perhaps,” said Neb, laughing “These bears would not consent to
give you their cloak. Pencroff, these fellows are no Saint Martins.”
“We would make them, Neb, we would make them,” answered Pencroff in a
tone of authority.
But these formidable carnivora did not dwell on the island, or if they
did, had not yet shown themselves. Herbert, Pencroff, and the reporter
were constantly at work getting traps on Prospect Plateau and on the
borders of the forest. In the sailor’s opinion any animal whatever
would be a prize, and rodents or carnivora, whichever these new traps
should entice, would be well received at Granite House. These traps
were very simple. They were pits dug in the ground and covered with
branches and grass, which hid the openings. At the bottom they placed
some bait, whose odor would attract the animals. They used their
discretion about the position of their traps, choosing places where
numerous footprints indicated the frequent passage of quadrupeds. Every
day they went to look at them, and at three different times during the
first few days they found in them specimens of those foxes which had
been already seen on the right bank of the Mercy.
“Pshaw! there are nothing but foxes in this part of the world,” said
Pencroff, as, for the third time, he drew one of these animals out of
the pit. “Good-for-nothing beasts;”
“Stop,” said Spilett; “they are good for something.”
“For what?”
“To serve as bait to attract others!”
The reporter was right, and from this time the traps were baited with
the dead bodies of foxes. The sailor had made snares out of the threads
of curry-jonc, and these snares were more profitable than the traps. It
was a rare thing for a day to pass without some rabbit from the warren
being captured. It was always a rabbit, but Neb knew how to vary his
sauces, and his companions did not complain. However, once or twice in
the second week in August, the traps contained other and more useful
animals than the foxes. There were some of those wild boars which had
been already noticed at the north of the lake. Pencroff had no need to
ask if these animals were edible, that was evident from their
resemblance to the hog of America and Europe.
“But these are not hogs, let me tell you,” said Herbert.
“My boy,” replied the sailor, handing over the trap and drawing out one
of these representatives of the swine family by the little appendage
which served for a tail, “do let me believe them to be hogs.”
“Why?”
“Because it pleases me.”
“You are fond of hogs, then, Pencroff?”
“I am very fond of them,” replied the sailor, “especially of their
feet, and if any had eight instead of four I would like them twice as
much.”
These animals were peccaries, belonging to one of the four genera,
which make up that family. This particular species were the
“tajassans,” known by there dark color and the absence of those long
fangs which belong to the others of their race. Peccaries generally
live in herds, and it was likely that these animals abounded in the
woody parts of the island. At all events they were edible from head to
foot, and Pencroff asked nothing more.
About the 15th of August the weather moderated suddenly by a change of
wind to the northwest. The temperature rose several degrees higher, and
the vapors accumulated in the air were soon resolved into snow. The
whole island was covered with a white mantle, and presented a new
aspect to its inhabitants. It snowed hard for several days and the
ground was covered two feet deep. The wind soon rose with great
violence and from the top of Granite House they could hear the sea
roaring against the reefs.
At certain angles the wind made eddies in the air, and the snow,
forming itself into high whirling columns, looked like those twisting
waterspouts which vessels attack with cannon. The hurricane, coming
steadily from the northwest, spent its force on the other side of the
island, and the eastern lookout of Granite House preserved it from a
direct attack.
During this snow-storm, as terrible as those of the polar regions,
neither Smith nor his companions could venture outside. They were
completely housed for five days, from the 20th to the 25th of August.
They heard the tempest roar though Jacamar Woods, which must have
suffered sadly. Doubtless numbers of trees were uprooted, but Pencroff
comforted himself with the reflection that there would be fewer to cut
down.
“The wind will be wood-cutter; let it alone,” said he.
How fervently now the inhabitants of Granite House must have thanked
Heaven for having given to them this solid and impenetrable shelter!
Smith had his share of their gratitude, but after all, it was nature
which had hollowed out this enormous cave, and he had only discovered
it. Here all were in safety, the violence of the tempest could not
reach them. If they had built a house of brick and wood on Prospect
Plateau, it could not have resisted the fury of this hurricane. As for
the Chimneys, they heard the billows strike them with such violence
that they knew they must be uninhabitable, for the sea, having entirely
covered their islet, beat upon them with all its force.
But here at Granite House, between these solid walls which neither wind
nor water could effect, they had nothing to fear. During this
confinement the colonists were not idle. There was plenty of wood in
the storehouse cut into planks, and little by little they completed
their stock of furniture. As far as tables and chairs went they were
certainly solid enough, for the material was not spared. This furniture
was a little too heavy to fulfil its essential purpose of being easily
moved, but it was the pride of Neb and Pencroff, who would not have
exchanged it for the handsomest Buhl.
Then the carpenters turned basket-makers, and succeeded remarkably well
at this new occupation.
They had discovered at the northern part of the lake a thick growth of
purple osiers. Before the rainy season, Pencroff and Herbert had
gathered a good many of these useful shrubs; and their branches, being
now well seasoned, could be used to advantage. Their first specimens
were rough; but, thanks to the skill and intelligence of the workmen
consulting together, recalling the models they had seen, and rivalling
each other in their efforts, hampers and baskets of different sizes
here soon added to the stock of the colony. The storehouse was filled
with them, and Neb set away in special baskets his stock of pistachio
nuts and roots of the dragon tree.
During the last week in August the weather changed again, the
temperature fell a little, and the storm was over. The colonists at
once started out. There must have been at least two feet of snow on the
shore, but it was frozen over the top, which made it easy to walk over.
Smith and his companions climbed up Prospect Plateau. What a change
they beheld! The woods which they had left in bloom, especially the
part nearest to them where the conifers were plenty, were now one
uniform color.
Everything was white, from the top of Mount Franklin to the
coast—forests, prairie, lake, river, beach. The waters of the Mercy ran
under a vault of ice, which cracked and broke with a loud noise at
every change of tide. Thousands of birds—ducks and wood-peckers—flew
over the surface of the lake. The rocks between which the cascade
plunged to the borders of the Plateau were blocked up with ice. One
would have said that the water leaped out of a huge gargoyle, cut by
some fantastic artist of the Renaissance. To calculate the damage done
to the forest by this hurricane would be impossible until the snow had
entirely disappeared.
Spilett, Pencroff, and Herbert took this opportunity to look after
their traps and had hard work finding them under their bed of snow.
There was danger of their falling in themselves; a humiliating thing to
be caught in one’s own trap! They were spared this annoyance, however,
and found the traps had been untouched; not an animal had been caught,
although there were a great many footprints in the neighborhood, among
others, very clearly impressed marks of claws.
Herbert at once classified these carnivora among the cat tribe, a
circumstance which justified the engineer’s belief in the existence of
dangerous beasts on Lincoln Island. Doubtless these beasts dwelt in the
dense forests of the Far West; but driven by hunger, they had ventured
as far as Prospect Plateau. Perhaps they scented the inhabitants of
Granite House.
“What, exactly, are these carnivora?” asked Pencroff.
“They are tigers,” replied Herbert.
“I thought those animals were only found in warm countries.”
“In the New World,” replied the lad, “they are to be found from Mexico
to the pampas of Buenos Ayres. Now, as Lincoln Island is in almost the
same latitude as La Plata, it is not surprising that tigers are found
here.”
“All right, we will be on our guard,” replied Pencroff.
In the meantime, the temperature rising, the snow began to melt, it
came on to rain, and gradually the white mantle disappeared.
Notwithstanding the bad weather the colonists renewed their stock of
provisions, both animal and vegetable.
This necessitated excursions into the forest, and thus they discovered
how many trees had been beaten down by the hurricane. The sailor and
Neb pushed forward with their wagon as far as the coal deposit in order
to carry back some fuel. They saw on their way that the chimney of the
pottery oven had been much damaged by the storm; at least six feet had
been blown down.
They also renewed their stock of wood as well as that of coal, and the
Mercy having become free once more, they employed the current to draw
several loads to Granite House. It might be that the cold season was
not yet over.
A visit had been made to the Chimneys also, and the colonists could not
be sufficiently grateful that this had not been their home during the
tempest. The sea had left undoubted signs of its ravages. Lashed by the
fury of the wind from the offing, and rushing over Safety Island, it
spent its full force upon these passages, leaving them half full of
sand and the rocks thickly covered with seaweed.
While Neb, Herbert, and Pencroff spent their time in hunting and
renewing their supply of fuel, Smith andSpilett set to work to clear
out the Chimneys. They found the forge and furnaces almost unhurt, so
carefully protected had they been by the banks of sand which the
colonists had built around them.
It was a fortunate thing that they laid in a fresh supply of fuel, for
the colonists had not yet seen the end of the intense cold. It is well
known that in the Northern Hemisphere, the month of February is noted
for its low temperature. The same rule held good in the Southern
Hemisphere, and the end of August, which is the February of North
America, did not escape from this climatic law.
About the 25th, after another snow and rain storm, the wind veered to
the southeast, and suddenly the cold became intense. In the engineer’s
opinion, a Fahrenheit thermometer would have indicated about eight
degrees below zero, and the cold was rendered more severe by a cutting
wind which lasted for several days.
The colonists were completely housed again, and as they were obliged to
block up all their windows, only leaving one narrow opening for
ventilation, the consumption of candles was considerable. In order to
economize them, the colonists often contented themselves with only the
light from the fire; for fuel was plenty.
Once or twice some of them ventured to the beach, among the blocks of
ice which were heaped up there by every fresh tide. But they soon
climbed up to Granite House again. This ascent was very painful, as
their hands were frostbitten by holding on to the frozen sides of the
ladder.
There were still many leisure hours to be filled up during this long
confinement, so Smith undertook another indoor occupation.
The only sugar which they had had up to this time was a liquid
substance which they had procured by making deep cuts in the bark of
the maple tree. They collected this liquid in jars and used it in this
condition for cooking purposes. It improved with age, becoming whiter
and more like a syrup in consistency. But they could do better than
this, and one day Cyrus Smith announced to his companions that he was
going to turn them into refiners.
“Refiners! I believe that’s a warm trade?” said Pencroff.
“Very warm!” replied the engineer.
“Then it will suit this season!” answered the sailor.
Refining did not necessitate a stock of complicated tools or skilled
workmen; it was a very simple operation.
To crystallize this liquid they first clarified it, by putting it on
the fire in earthenware jars, and submitting it to evaporation. Soon a
scum rose to the surface, which, when it began to thicken, Neb removed
carefully with a wooden ladle. This hastened the evaporation, and at
the same time prevented it from scorching.
After several hours boiling over a good fire, which did as much good to
the cooks as it did to the boiling liquid, it turned into a thick
syrup. This syrup was poured into clay moulds which they had made
beforehand, in various shapes in the same kitchen furnace.
The next day the syrup hardened, forming cakes and loaves. It was sugar
of a reddish color, but almost transparent, and of a delicious taste.
The cold continued until the middle of September, and the inmates of
Granite House began to find their captivity rather tedious. Almost
every day they took a run out-doors, but they always soon returned.
They were constantly at work over their household duties, and talked
while they worked.
Smith instructed his companions in everything, and especially explained
to them the practical applications of science.
The colonists had no library at their disposal, but the engineer was a
book, always ready, always open at the wished-for page. A book which
answered their every question, and one which they often read. Thus the
time passed, and these brave man had no fear for the future.
However, they were all anxious for the end of their captivity, and
longed to see, if not fine weather, at least a cessation of the intense
cold. If they had only had warmer clothing, they would have attempted
excursions to the downs and to Tadorns’ Fens, for game would have been
easy to approach, and the hunt would assuredly have been fruitful. But
Smith insisted that no one should compromise his health, as he had need
of every hand; and his advice was taken.
The most impatient of the prisoners, after Pencroff, was Top. The poor
dog found himself in close quarters in Granite House, and ran from room
to room, showing plainly the uneasiness he felt at this confinement.
Smith often noticed that whenever he approached the dark well
communicating with the sea, which had its opening in the rear of the
storehouse, Top whined in a most curious manner, and ran around and
around the opening, which had been covered over with planks of wood.
Sometimes he even tried to slip his paws under the planks, as if trying
to raise them up, and yelped in a way which indicated at the same time
anger and uneasiness.
The engineer several times noticed this strange behavior, and wondered
what there could be in the abyss to have such a peculiar effect upon
this intelligent dog.
This well, of course, communicated with the sea. Did it then branch off
into narrow passages through the rock-work of the island? Was it in
communication with other caves? Did any sea-monsters come into it from
time to time from the bottom of these pits?
The engineer did not know what to think, and strange thoughts passed
through his mind. Accustomed to investigate scientific truths, he could
not pardon himself for being drawn into the region of the mysterious
and supernatural; but how explain why Top, the most sensible of dogs,
who never lost his time in barking at the moon, should insist upon
exploring this abyss with nose and ear, if there was nothing there to
arouse his suspicions?
Top’s conduct perplexed Smith more than he cared to own to himself.
However, the engineer did not mention this to any one but Spilett,
thinking it useless to worry his companions with what might be, after
all, only a freak of the dog.
At last the cold spell was over. They had rain, snow-squalls,
hail-storms, and gales of wind, but none of these lasted long. The ice
thawed and the snow melted; the beach, plateau, banks of the Mercy, and
the forest were again accessible. The return of spring rejoiced the
inmates of Granite House, and they soon passed all their time in the
open air, only returning to eat and sleep.
They hunted a good deal during the latter part of September, which led
Pencroff to make fresh demands for those fire-arms which he declared
Smith had promised him. Smith always put him off, knowing that without
a special stock of tools it would be almost impossible to make a gun
which would be of any use to them.
Besides, he noticed that Herbert and Spilett had become very clever
archers, that all sorts of excellent game, both feathered and
furred—agoutis, kangaroos, cabiais, pigeons, bustards, wild ducks, and
snipe—fell under their arrows; consequently the firearms could wait.
But the stubborn sailor did not see it in this light, and constantly
reminded the engineer that he had not provided them with guns; and
Gideon Spilett supported Pencroff.
“If,” said he, “the island contains, as we suppose, wild beasts, we
must consider how to encounter and exterminate them. The time may come
when this will be our first duty.”
But just now it was not the question of firearms which occupied Smith’s
mind, but that of clothes. Those which the colonists were wearing had
lasted through the winter, but could not hold out till another. What
they must have at any price was skins of the carnivora, or wool of the
ruminants; and as moufflons (mountain goats), were plenty, they must
consider how to collect a flock of them which they could keep for the
benefit of the colony. They would also lay out a farm yard in a
favorable part of the island, where they could have an enclosure for
domestic animals and a poultry yard.
These important projects must be carried out during the good weather.
Consequently, in view of these future arrangements, it was important to
undertake a reconnoissance into the unexplored part of Lincoln Island,
to wit:—the high forests which extended along the right bank of the
Mercy, from its mouth to the end of Serpentine Peninsula. But they must
be sure of their weather, and a month must yet elapse before it would
be worth while to undertake this exploration. While they were waiting
impatiently, an incident occurred which redoubled their anxiety to
examine the whole island.
It was now the 24th of October. On this day Pencroff went to look after
his traps which he always kept duly baited. In one of them, he found
three animals, of a sort welcome to the kitchen. It was a female
peccary with her two little ones. Pencroff returned to Granite House,
delighted with his prize, and, as usual, made a great talk about it.
“Now, we’ll have a good meal, Mr Smith,” cried he, “and you too, Mr.
Spilett, must have some.”
“I shall be delighted,” said the reporter, “but what is it you want me
to eat?”
“Sucking pig,” said Pencroff.
“Oh, a suckling-pig! To hear you talk one would think you had brought
back a stuffed partridge!”
“Umph,” said Pencroff, “so you turn up your nose at my suckling pig?”
“No,” answered Spilett coolly, “provided one does not get too much of
them—”
“Very well, Mr. Reporter!” returned the sailor, who did not like to
hear his game disparaged. “You are getting fastidious! Seven months
ago, when we were cast upon this island, you would have been only too
glad to have come across such game.”
“Well, well,” said the reporter, “men are never satisfied.”
“And now,” continued Pencroff, “I hope Neb will distinguish himself.
Let us see; these little peccaries are only three months old, they will
be as tender as quail. Come, Neb, I will superintend the cooking of
them myself.”
The sailor, followed by Neb, hastened to the kitchen, and was soon
absorbed over the oven. The two prepared a magnificent repast; the two
little peccaries, kangaroo soup, smoked ham, pistachio nuts,
dragon-tree wine, Oswego tea; in a word, everything of the best. But
the favorite dish of all was the savory peccaries made into a stew. At
5 o’clock, dinner was served in the dining-room of Granite House. The
kangaroo soup smoked upon the table. It was pronounced excellent.
After the soup came the peccaries, which Pencroff begged to be allowed
to carve, and of which he gave huge pieces to every one. These suckling
pigs were indeed delicious, and Pencroff plied his knife and fork with
intense earnestness, when suddenly a cry and an oath escaped him.
“What’s the matter?” said Smith.
“The matter is that I have just lost a tooth!” replied the sailor.
“Are there pebbles in your peccaries, then?” said Spilett.
“It seems so,” said the sailor, taking out of his mouth the object
which had cost him a grinder.
It was not a pebble, it was a leaden pellet.
PART II
THE ABANDONED
CHAPTER XXIII.
CONCERNING THE LEADEN PELLET—MAKING A CANOE—HUNTING—IN THE TOP OF A
KAURI—NOTHING TO INDICATE THE PRESENCE OF MAN—THE TURTLE ON ITS
BACK—THE TURTLE DISAPPEARS—SMITH’S EXPLANATION.
It was exactly seven months since the passengers in the balloon had
been thrown upon Lincoln Island. In all this time no human being had
been seen. No smoke had betrayed the presence of man upon he island. No
work of man’s hands, either ancient or modern, had attested his
passage. Not only did it seem uninhabited at present, but it appeared
to have been so always. And now all the framework of deductions fell
before a little bit of metal found in the body of a pig.
It was certainly a bullet from a gun, and what but a human being would
be so provided?
When Pencroff had placed it upon the table, his companions looked at it
with profound astonishment. The possibilities suggested by this
seemingly trivial incident flashed before them. The sudden appearance
of a supernatural being could not have impressed them more.
Smith instantly began to reason upon the theories which this incident,
as surprising as it was unexpected, suggested. Taking the bit of lead
between his fingers he turned it round and about for some time before
he spoke.
“You are sure, Pencroff,” he asked, at length, “that the peccary was
hardly three months old?”
“I’m sure, sir,” answered the sailor. “It was sucking its mother when I
found it in the ditch.”
“Well, then, that proves that within three months a gun has been fired
upon Lincoln Island.”
“And that the bullet has wounded, though not mortally, this little
animal,” added Spilett.
“Undoubtedly,” replied Smith; “and now let us see what conclusions are
to be drawn from this incident. Either the island was inhabited before
our arrival, or men have landed here within three months. How these men
arrived, whether voluntarily or involuntarily, whether by landing or by
shipwreck, cannot be settled at present. Neither have we any means of
determining whether they are Europeans or Malays, friends or enemies;
nor do we know whether they are living here at present or whether they
have gone. But these questions are too important to be allowed to
remain undecided.”
“No!” cried the sailor springing from the table. “There can be no men
besides ourselves on Lincoln Island. Why, the island is not large: and
if it had been inhabited, we must have met some one of its people
before this.”
“It would, indeed, be astonishing if we had not,” said Herbert.
“But it would be much more astonishing, I think,” remarked the
reporter, “if this little beast had been born with a bullet in his
body!”
“Unless,” suggested Neb, seriously, “Pencroff had had it—”
“How’s that, Neb?” interrupted the sailor, “I, to have had a bullet in
my jaw for five or six months, without knowing it? Where would it have
been?” he added, opening his mouth and displaying the thirty-two
splendid teeth that ornamented it. “Look, Neb, and if you can find one
broken one in the whole set you may pull out half-a-dozen!”
“Neb’s theory is inadmissible,” said Smith, who, in spite of the
gravity of his thoughts, could not restrain a smile. “It is certain
that a gun has been discharged on the island within three months. But I
am bound to believe that the persons on this island have been here but
a short time, or else simply landed in passing; as, had the island had
inhabitants when we made the ascent of Mount Franklin, we must have
seen them or been seen. It is more probable, that within the past few
weeks some people have been shipwrecked somewhere upon the coast; the
thing, therefore, to do is to discover this point.”
“I think we should act cautiously,” said the reporter.
“I think so, too,” replied Smith, “as I fear that they must be Malay
pirates;”
“How would it do, Mr. Smith,” said the sailor, “to build A canoe so
that we could go up this river, or, if need be, round the coast? It
won’t do to be taken unawares.”
“It’s a good idea,” answered the engineer; “but we have not the time
now. It would take at least a month to build a canoe—”
“A regular one, yes,” rejoined the sailor; “but we don’t want it to
stand the sea. I will guarantee to make one in less than five days that
will do to use on the Mercy.”
“Build a boat in five days,” cried Neb.
“Yes, Neb, one of Indian fashion.”
“Of wood?” demanded the negro, still incredulous.
“Of wood, or what is better, of bark,” answered Pencroff. “Indeed, Mr.
Smith, it could be done in five days!”
“Be it so, then,” answered the engineer. “In five days.”
“But we must look out for ourselves in the meantime!” said Herbert.
“With the utmost caution, my friends,” answered Smith. “And be very
careful to confine your hunting expeditions to the neighborhood of
Granite House.”
The dinner was finished in lower spirits than Pencroff had expected.
The incident of the bullet proved beyond doubt that the island had
been, or was now, inhabited by others, and such a discovery awakened
the liveliest anxiety in the breasts of the colonists.
Smith and Spilett, before retiring, had a long talk about these things.
They questioned, if by chance this incident had an connection with the
unexplained rescue of the engineer, and other strange events which they
had encountered in so many ways. Smith, after having discussed the pros
and cons of the question, ended by saying:—
“In short, Spilett, do you want to know my opinion?”
“Yes, Cyrus.”
“Well, this is it. No matter how minutely we examine the island, we
will find nothing!”
Pencroff began his work the next day. He did not mean to build a boat
with ribs and planks, but simply a flat bottomed float, which would do
admirably in the Mercy, especially in the shallow water and its
sources. Strips of bark fastened together would be sufficient for their
purpose, and in places where a portage would be necessary the affair
would be neither heavy nor cumbersome. The sailor’s idea was to fasten
the strips of bark together with clinched nails, and thus to make the
craft staunch.
The first thing was to select trees furnishing a supple and tough bark.
Now, it had happened that the last storm had blown down a number of
Douglass pines, which were perfectly adapted to this purpose. Some of
these lay prone upon the earth, and all the colonists had to do was to
strip them of their bark, though this indeed was somewhat difficult, on
account of the awkwardness of their tools.
While the sailor, assisted by the engineer was thus occupied, Herbert
and Spilett, who had been made purveyors to the colony, were not idle.
The reporter could not help admiring the young lad, who had acquired a
remarkable proficiency in the use of the bow and arrows, and who
exhibited, withal, considerable hardiness and coolness. The two
hunters, remembering the caution of the engineer, never ventured more
than two miles from Granite House, but the outskirts of the forest
furnished a sufficient supply of agoutis, cabiais, kangaroos,
peccaries, etc., and although the traps had not done so well since the
cold had abated, the warren furnished a supply sufficient for the wants
of the colonists.
Often, while on these excursions, Herbert conversed with Spilett about
the incident of the bullet and of the engineer’s conclusions, and one
day—the 26th of October—he said:—
“Don’t you think it strange, Mr. Spilett, that any people should have
been wrecked on this island, and never have followed up the coast to
Granite House?”
“Very strange if they are still here,” answered the reporter, “but not
at all astonishing if they are not.”
“Then you think they have gone again?”
“It is likely, my boy, that, if they had staid any time, or were still
here, something would have discovered their presence.”
“But if they had been able to get off again they were not really
shipwrecked.”
“No, Herbert, they were what I should call shipwrecked temporarily.
That is, it is possible that they were driven by stress of weather upon
the island, without having to abandon their vessel, and when the wind
moderated they set out again.”
“One thing is certain,” said Herbert, “and that is, that Mr. Smith has
always seemed to dread, rather than to desire, the presence of human
beings on our island.”
“The reason is, that he knows that only Malays frequent these seas, and
these gentlemen are a kind of rascals that had better be avoided.”
“Is it not possible, sir, that some time we will discover traces of
their landing and, perhaps, be able to settle this point?”
“It is not unlikely, my boy. An abandoned camp or the remains of a
fire, we would certainly notice, and these are what we will look for on
our exploration.”
The hunters, talking in this way, found themselves in a portion of the
forest near the Mercy, remarkable for its splendid trees. Among others,
were those magnificent conifera, called by the New Zealanders “kauris,”
rising mere than 200 feet in height.
“I have an idea, Mr. Spilett,” said Herbert, “supposing I climb to the
top of one of these kauris, I could see, perhaps, for a good ways.”
“It’s a good idea,” answered the other, “but can you climb one of these
giants?”
“I am going to try, anyhow,” exclaimed the boy, springing upon the
lower branches of one, which grew in such a manner as to make the tree
easy to mount. In a few minutes he was in its top, high above all the
surrounding leafage of the forest.
From this height, the eye could take in all the southern portion of the
island between Claw Cape on the southeast and Reptile Promontory on the
southwest. To the northwest rose Mount Franklin, shutting out more than
one-fourth of the horizon.
But Herbert, from his perch, could overlook the very portion of the
island which was giving, or had given, refuge to the strangers whose
presence they suspected. The lad looked about him with great attention,
first towards the sea, where not a sail was visible, although it was
possible that a ship, and especially one dismasted, lying close in to
shore, would be concealed from view by the trees which hid the coast.
In the woods of the Far West nothing could be seen. The forest formed a
vast impenetrable dome many miles in extent, without an opening or
glade. Even the course of the Mercy could not be seen, and it might be
that there were other streams flowing westward, which were equally
invisible.
But, other signs failing, could not the lad catch in the air some smoke
that would indicate the presence of man? The atmosphere was pure, and
the slightest vapor was sharply outlined against the sky. For an
instant Herbert thought he saw a thin film rising in the west, but a
more careful observation convinced him that he was mistaken. He looked
again, however, with all care, and his sight was excellent. No,
certainly, it was nothing.
Herbert climbed down the tree, and he and the reporter returned to
Granite House. There Smith listened to the lad’s report without
comment. It was plain he would not commit himself until after the
island had been explored.
Two days later—the 28th of October—another unaccountable incident
happened.
In strolling along the beach, two miles from Granite House, Herbert and
Neb had been lucky enough to capture a splendid specimen of the
chelonia mydas (green turtle), whose carapace shone with emerald
reflections. Herbert had caught sight of it moving among the rocks
towards the sea.
“Stop him, Neb, stop him!” he cried.
Neb ran to it.
“It’s a fine animal,” said Neb, “but how are we going to keep it?”
“That’s easy enough, Neb. All we have to do is to turn it on its back,
and then it cannot get away. Take your spear and do as I do.”
The reptile had shut itself in its shell, so that neither its head nor
eyes were visible, and remained motionless as a rock. The lad and the
negro placed their spears underneath it, and, after some difficulty,
succeeded in turning it over. It measured three feet in length, and
must have weighed at least 400 pounds.
“There, that will please Pencroff,” cried Neb.
Indeed, the sailor could not fail to be pleased, as the flesh of these
turtles, which feed upon eel-grass, is very savory.
“And now what can we do with our game?” asked Neb; “we can’t carry it
to Granite House.”
“Leave it here, since it cannot turn back again,” answered Herbert,
“and we will come for it with the cart.”
Neb agreed, and Herbert, as an extra precaution, which the negro
thought useless, propped up the reptile with large stones. Then the two
returned to Granite House, following the beach, on which the tide was
down. Herbert, wishing to surprise Pencroff, did not tell him of the
prize which was lying on its back upon the sand; but two hours later
Neb and he returned with the cart to where they had left it, and—the
“splendid specimen of chelonia mydas” was not there!
The two looked about them. Certainly, this was where they had left it.
Here were the stones he had used, and, therefore, the lad could not be
mistaken.
“Did the beast turn over, after all?” asked Neb.
“It seems so,” replied Herbert, puzzled, and examining the stones
scattered over the sand.
“Pencroff will be disappointed.”
“And Mr. Smith will be troubled to explain this!” thought Herbert.
“Well,” said Neb, who wished to conceal their misadventure, “we won’t
say anything about it.”
“Indeed, we will tell the whole story,” answered Herbert.
And taking with them the useless cart, they returned to Granite House.
At the shipyard they found the engineer and the sailor working
together. Herbert related all that happened.
“You foolish fellows,” cried the sailor, “to let at least fifty pounds
of soup, escape!”
“But, Pencroff,” exclaimed Neb, “it was not our fault that the reptile
got away; haven’t I told you we turned it on its back?”
“Then you didn’t turn it enough!” calmly asserted the stubborn sailor.
“Not enough!” cried Herbert; and he told how he had taken care to prop
the turtle up with stones.
“Then it was a miracle!” exclaimed Pencroff.
“Mr. Smith,” asked Herbert, “I thought that turtles once placed on
their backs could not get over again, especially the very large ones?”
“That is the fact,” answered Smith.
“Then how did it—”
“How far off from the sea did you leave this turtle,” asked the
engineer, who had stopped working and was turning this incident over in
his mind.
“About fifteen feet,” answered Herbert.
“And it was low water?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well,” responded the engineer, “what the turtle could not do on land,
he could do in water. When the tide rose over him he turned over,
and—tranquilly paddled off.”
“How foolish we are,” cried Neb.
“That is just what I said you were,” answered Pencroff.
Smith had given this explanation, which was doubtless admissible; but
was he himself satisfied with it? He did not venture to say that.
CHAPTER XXIV.
TRIAL OF THE CANOE—A WRECK ON THE SHORE—THE TOW—JETSAM POINT—INVENTORY
OF THE BOX—WHAT PENCROFF WANTED—A BIBLE—A VERSE FROM THE BIBLE.
On the 29th of October the canoe was finished. Pencroff had kept his
word, and had built, in five days, a sort of bark shell, stiffened with
flexible crejimba rods. A seat at either end, another midway to keep it
open, a gunwale for the thole-pins of a pair of oars, and a paddle to
steer with, completed this canoe, which was twelve feet in length, and
did not weigh 200 pounds.
“Hurrah!” cried the sailor, quite ready to applaud his own success.
“With this we can make the tour of—”
“Of the world?” suggested Spilett.
“No, but of the island. Some stones for ballast, a mast in the bow,
with a sail which Mr. Smith will make some day, and away we’ll go! But
now let us try our new ship, for we must see if it will carry all of
us.”
The experiment was made. Pencroff, by a stroke of the paddle, brought
the canoe close to the shore by a narrow passage between the rocks, and
he was confident that they could at once make a trial trip of the craft
by following the bank as far as the lower point where the rocks ended.
As they were stepping in, Neb cried:—
“But your boat leaks, Pencroff.”
“Oh, that’s nothing, Neb,” answered the sailor. “The wood has to drink!
But in two days it will not show, and there will be as little water in
our canoe as in the stomach of a drunkard! Come, get in!”
They all embarked, and Pencroff pushed off. The weather was splendid,
the sea was as calm as a lake, and the canoe could venture upon it with
as much security as upon the tranquil current of the Mercy.
Neb and Herbert took the oars, and Pencroff sat in the stern with the
paddle as steersman.
The sailor crossed the channel, and rounded the southern point of the
islet. A gentle breeze was wafted from the south. There were no
billows, but the canoe rose and fell with the long undulations of the
sea, and they rowed out half a mile from the coast so as to get a view
of the outline of Mount Franklin. Then, putting about, Pencroff
returned towards the mouth of the river, and followed along the rounded
shore which hid the low marshy ground of Tadorn’s Fen. The point, made
longer by the bend of the coast, was three miles from the Mercy, and
the colonists resolved to go past it far enough to obtain a hasty
glance at the coast as far as Claw Cape.
The canoe followed along the shore, keeping off some two cables length
so as to avoid the line of rocks beginning to be covered by the tide.
The cliff, beginning at the mouth of the river, lowered as it
approached the promontory. It was a savage-looking, unevenly-arranged
heap of granite blocks, very different from the curtain of Prospect
Plateau. There was not a trace of vegetation on this sharp point, which
projected two miles beyond the forest, like a giant’s arm, thrust out
from a green sleeve.
The canoe sped easily along. Spilett sketched the outline of the coast
in his note-book, and Neb, Pencroff, and Herbert discussed the features
of their new domain; and as they moved southward the two Mandible Capes
seemed to shut together and enclose Union Bay. As to Smith, he regarded
everything in silence, and from his distrustful expression it seemed as
if he was observing some suspicious land.
The canoe had reached the end of the point and was about doubling it,
when Herbert rose, and pointing out a black object, said:—
“What is that down there on the sand?”
Every one looked in the direction indicated.
“There is something there, indeed,” said the reporter. “It looks like a
wreck half buried in the sand.”
“Oh, I see what it is!” cried Pencroff.
“What?” asked Neb.
“Barrels! they are barrels, and, may be, they are full!”
“To shore, Pencroff!” said Smith.
And with a few strokes the canoe was driven into a little cove, and the
party went up the beach.
Pencroff was not mistaken. There were two barrels half buried in the
sand; but firmly fastened to them was a large box, which, borne up by
them, had been floated on to the shore.
“Has there been a shipwreck here?” asked Herbert.
“Evidently,” answered Spilett.
“But what is in this box?” exclaimed Pencroff, with a natural
impatience. “What is in this box? It is closed, and we have nothing
with which to raise the lid. However, with a stone—”
And the sailor picked up a heavy rock, and was about to break one of
the sides, when the engineer, stopping him, said:—
“Cannot you moderate your impatience for about an hour, Pencroff?”
“But, think, Mr. Smith! May be there is everything we want in it!”
“We will find out, Pencroff,” answered the engineer, “but do not break
the box, as it will be useful. Let us transport it to Granite House,
where we can readily open it without injuring it. It is all prepared
for the voyage, and since it has floated here, it can float again to
the river month.”
“You are right, sir, and I am wrong,” answered the sailor, “but one is
not always his own master!”
The engineer’s advice was good. It was likely that the canoe could not
carry the things probably enclosed in the box, since the latter was so
heavy that it had to be buoyed up by two empty barrels. It was,
therefore, better to tow it in this condition to the shore at the
Granite House.
And now the important question was, from whence came this jetsam? Smith
and his companions searched the beach for several hundred paces, but
there was nothing else to be seen. They scanned the sea, Herbert and
Neb climbing up a high rock, but not a sail was visible on the horizon.
Nevertheless, there must have been a shipwreck, and perhaps this
incident was connected with the incident of the bullet. Perhaps the
strangers had landed upon another part of the island. Perhaps they were
still there. But the natural conclusion of the colonists was that these
strangers could not be Malay pirates, since the jetsam was evidently of
European or American production.
They all went back to the box, which measured five feet by three. It
was made of oak, covered with thick leather, studded with copper nails.
The two large barrels, hermetically sealed, but which sounded empty,
were fastened to its sides by means of strong ropes, tied in what
Pencroff recognized to be “sailor’s knots.” That it was uninjured
seemed to be accounted for by the fact of its having been thrown upon
the sand instead of the rocks. And it was evident that it had not been
long either in the sea or upon the beach. It seemed probable, also,
that the water had not penetrated, and that its contents would be found
uninjured. It therefore looked as if this box must have been thrown
overboard from a disabled ship making for the island. And, in the hope
that it would reach the island, where they would find it later, the
passengers had taken the precaution to buoy it up.
“We will tow this box to Granite House,” said the engineer, “and take
an inventory of its contents; then, if we discover any of the survivors
of this supposed shipwreck, we will return them what is theirs. If we
find no one—”
“We will keep the things ourselves!” cried the sailor. “But I wish I
knew what is in it.”
The sailor was already working at the prize, which would doubtless
float at high water. One of the ropes which was fastened to the barrels
was partly untwisted and served to fasten these latter to the canoe.
Then, Neb and Pencroff dug out the sand with their oars, and soon the
canoe, with the jetsam in tow, was rounding the promontory to which
they gave the name of Jetsam Point. The box was so heavy that the
barrels just sufficed to sustain it above the water; and Pencroff
feared each moment that it would break loose and sink to the bottom.
Fortunately his fears were groundless, and in an hour and a half the
canoe touched the bank before Granite House.
The boat and the prize were drawn upon the shore, and as the tide was
beginning to fall, both soon rested on dry ground. Neb brought some
tools so as to open the box without injury, and the colonists forthwith
proceeded to examine its contents.
Pencroff did not try to hide his anxiety. He began by unfastening the
barrels, which would be useful in the future, then the fastenings were
forced with pincers, and the cover taken off. A second envelope, of
zinc, was enclosed within the case, in such a manner that its contents
were impervious to moisture.
“Oh!” cried Pencroff, “they must be preserves which are inside.”
“I hope for something better than that,” answered the reporter.
“If it should turn out that there was—” muttered the sailor.
“What?” asked Neb.
“Nothing!”
The zinc cover was split, lengthwise and turned back, and, little by
little, many different objects were lifted out on the sand. At each new
discovery Pencroff cheered, Herbert clapped his hands, and Neb danced.
There were books which made the lad crazy with pleasure, and cooking
implements which Neb covered with kisses.
In truth the colonists had reason to be satisfied, as the following
inventory, copied from Spilett’s note-book, will show:—
TOOLS.—3 pocket-knives, with-several blades, 2 wood-chopper’s hatchets,
2 carpenter’s hatchets, 3 planes, I adzes, l axe, 6 cold chisels, 2
files, 3 hammers, 3 gimlets, 2 augers, 10 bags of nails and screws, 3
saws of different sizes, 2 boxes of needles.
ARMS.—2 flint-lock guns, 2 percussion guns, 2 central-fire carbines; 5
cutlasses, 4 boarding sabres, 2 barrels of powder, holding l5 pounds
each, l2 boxes of caps.
INSTRUMENTS.—1 sextant, 1 opera-glass, 1 spyglass, 1 box compass, 1
pocket compass, 1 Fahrenheit thermometer, 1 aneroid barometer, 1 box
containing a photographic apparatus, together with glasses, chemicals,
etc.
CLOTHING.—2 dozen shirts of a peculiar material resembling wool, though
evidently a vegetable substance; 3 dozen stockings of the same
material.
UTENSILS.—1 Iron pot, 6 tinned copper stewpans, 3 iron plates, 10
aluminium knives and forks, 2 kettles, 1 small portable stove. 5 table
knives.
BOOKS.-l Bible, 1 atlas, 1 dictionary of Polynesian languages, 1
dictionary of the Natural Sciences, 3 reams of blank paper, 2 blank
books.
“Unquestionably,” said the reporter, after the inventory had been
taken, “the owner of this box was a practical man! Tools, arms,
instruments, clothing, utensils, books, nothing is wanting. One would
say that he had made ready for a shipwreck before-hand!”
“Nothing, Indeed, is wanting,” murmured Smith, thoughtfully.
“And it is a sure thing,” added Herbert, “that the ship that brought
this box was not a Malay pirate!”
“Unless its owner had been taken prisoner,” said Pencroff.
“That is not likely,” answered the reporter. “It is more probable that
an American or European ship has been driven to this neighborhood, and
that the passengers, wishing to save what was, at least, necessary,
have prepared this box and have thrown it overboard.”
“And do you think so, Mr. Smith?” asked Herbert.
“Yes, my boy,” answered the engineer, “that might have been the case.
It is possible, that, anticipating a ship wreck, this chest has been
prepared, so that it might be found again on the coast—”
“But the photographic apparatus!” observed the sailor incredulously.
“As to that,” answered the engineer, “I do not see its use; what we, as
well as any other ship wrecked person, would have valued more, would
have been a greater assortment of clothing and more ammunition!”
“But have none of these things any mark by which we can tell where they
came from,” askedSpilett.
They looked to see. Each article was examined attentively, but,
contrary to custom, neither books, instruments, nor arms had any name
or mark; nevertheless, they were in perfect order, and seemed never to
have been used. So also with the tools and utensils; everything was
new, and this went to prove that the things had not been hastily thrown
together in the box, but that their selection had been made
thoughtfully and with care. This, also, was evident from the zinc case
which had kept everything watertight, and which could not have been
soldered in a moment.
The two dictionaries and the Bible were in English, and the latter
showed that it had been often read. The Atlas was a splendid work,
containing maps of every part of the world, and many charts laid out on
Mercator’s Projection. The nomenclature in this book was in French, but
neither in it, nor in any of the others, did the name of the editor or
publisher appear.
The colonists, therefore, were unable to even conjecture the
nationality of the ship that had so recently passed near them. But no
matter where it came from, this box enriched the party on Lincoln
Island. Until now, in transforming the products of nature, they had
created everything for themselves, and had succeeded by their own
intelligence. Did it not now seem as if Providence had intended to
reward them by placing these divers products of human industry in their
hands? Therefore, with one accord, they all rendered thanks to Heaven.
Nevertheless, Pencroff was not entirely satisfied. It appeared that the
box did not contain something to which he attached an immense
importance, and as its contests lessened, his cheers had become less
hearty, and when the inventory was closed, he murmured:—
“That’s all very fine, but you see there is nothing for me here!”
“Why, what did you expect, Pencroff?” exclaimed Neb.
“A half pound of tobacco,” answered the sailor, “and then I would have
been perfectly happy!”
The discovery of this jetsam made the thorough exploration of the
island more necessary than ever. It was, therefore, agreed that they
should set out early the next morning, proceeding to the western coast
via the Mercy. If anyone had been shipwrecked on that part of the
island, they were doubtless without resources, and help must be given
them at once.
During the day the contents of the box were carried to Granite House
and arranged in order in the great hall. And that evening—the 29th of
October—Herbert before retiring asked Mr. Smith to read some passages
from the Bible.
“Gladly,” answered the engineer, taking the sacred book in his hands;
when Pencroff checking him, said:—
“Mr. Smith, I am superstitious. Open the book at random and read the
first verse which you meet with. We will see if it applies to our
situation.”
Smith smiled at the words of the sailor, but yielding to his wishes he
opened the Bible where the marker lay between the leaves. Instantly his
eye fell upon a red cross made with a crayon, opposite the 8th verse of
the seventh chapter of St. Matthew.
He read these words:—
“For every one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth.”
CHAPTER XXV.
THE DEPARTURE—THE RISING TIDE—ELMS AND OTHER TREES—DIFFERENT PLANTS—THE
KINGFISHER—APPEARANCE OF THE FOREST—THE GIGANTIC EUCALYPTI—WHY THEY ARE
CALLED FEVER-TREES—MONKEYS—THE WATERFALL—ENCAMPMENT FOR THE NIGHT.
The next day—the 30th of October—everything was prepared for the
proposed exploration, which these last events had made so necessary.
Indeed, as things had turned out, the colonists could well imagine
themselves in a condition to give, rather than to receive, help.
It was agreed that they ascend the Mercy as far as practicable. They
would thus be able to transport their arms and provisions a good part
of the way without fatigue.
It was also necessary to think, not only of what they now carried, but
of what they might perhaps bring back to Granite House. If, as all
thought, there had been a shipwreck on the coast, they would find many
things they wanted on the shore, and the cart would doubtless have
proved more convenient than the canoe. But the cart was so heavy and
unwieldy that it would have been too hard work to drag it, which fact
made Pencroff regret that the box had not only held his half-pound of
tobacco, but also a pair of stout New Jersey horses, which would have
been so useful to the colony.
The provisions, already packed by Neb, consisted of enough dried meat,
beer, and fermented liquor to last them for the three days which Smith
expected they would be absent. Moreover, they counted on being able to
replenish their stock at need along the route, and Neb had taken care
not to forget the portable stove.
They took the two wood-choppers’ hatchets to aid in making their way
through the thick forest, and also the glass and the pocket compass.
Of the arms, they chose the two flint-lock guns in preference to the
others, as the colonists could always renew the flints; whereas the
caps could not be replaced. Nevertheless, they took one of the carbines
and some cartridges. As for the powder, the barrels held fifty pounds,
and it was necessary to take a certain amount of that; but the engineer
expected to manufacture an explosive substance, by which it could be
saved in the future. To the firearms they added the five cutlasses, in
leather scabbards. And thus equipped, the party could venture into the
forest with some chance of success.
Armed in this manner, Pencroff, Herbert, and Neb had all they could
desire, although Smith made them promise not to fire a shot
unnecessarily.
At 6 o’clock the party, accompanied by Top, started for the mouth of
the Mercy. The tide had been rising half an hour, and there were
therefore some hours yet of the flood which they could make use of. The
current was strong, and they did not need to row to pass rapidly up
between the high banks and the river. In a few minutes the explorers
had reached the turn where, seven months before, Pencroff had made his
first raft. Having passed this elbow, the river, flowing from the
southwest, widened out under the shadow of the grand ever-green
conifers; and Smith and his companions could not but admire the
beautiful scenery. As they advanced the species of forest trees
changed. On the right bank rose splendid specimens of ulmaceæ, those
valuable elms so much sought after by builders, which have the property
of remaining sound for a long time in water. There was, also, numerous
groups belonging to the same family, among them the micocouliers, the
root of which produces a useful oil. Herbert discovered some
lardizabalaceæ, whose flexible branches, soaked in water, furnish
excellent ropes, and two or three trunks of ebony of a beautiful black
color, curiously veined.
From time to time, where a landing was easy, the canoe stopped, and
Spilett, Herbert, and Pencroff, accompanied by Top, explored the bank.
In addition to the game, Herbert thought that he might meet with some
useful little plant which was not to be despised, and the young
naturalist was rewarded by discovering a sort of wild spinach and
numerous specimens of the genus cabbage, which would, doubtless, bear
transplanting; they were cresses, horse-radishes, and a little,
velvety, spreading plant, three-feet high, bearing brownish-colored
seeds.
“Do you know what this is?” asked Herbert of the sailor.
“Tobacco!” cried Pencroff, who had evidently never seen the plant which
he fancied so much.
“No, Pencroff,” answered Herbert, “It is not tobacco, it is mustard.”
“Only mustard!” exclaimed the other. “Well if you happen to come across
a tobacco plant, my boy, do not pass it by.”
“We will find it someday,” said Spilett.
“All right,” cried Pencroff, “and then I will be able to say that the
island lacks nothing!”
These plants were taken up carefully and carried back to the canoe,
where Cyrus Smith had remained absorbed in his own thoughts.
The reporter, Herbert, and Pencroff, made many of these excursions,
sometimes on the right bank of the Mercy and sometimes upon the left.
The latter was less abrupt, but more wooded. The engineer found, by
reference to the pocket-compass, that the general direction of the
river from its bend was southwest, and that it was nearly straight for
about three miles. But it was probable that the direction would change
further up, and that it would flow from the spurs of Mount Franklin,
which fed its waters in the northwest.
During one of these excursions Spilett caught a couple of birds with
long, slim beaks, slender necks, short wings, and no tails, which
Herbert called tinamous, and which they resolved should be the first
occupants of the future poultry-yard.
But the first report of a gun that echoed through the forests of the
Far West, was provoked by the sight of a beautiful bird, resembling a
kingfisher.
“I know it,” cried Pencroff.
“What do you know?” asked the reporter.
“That bird! It is the bird which escaped on our first exploration, the
one after which we named this part of the forest!”
“A jacamar!” exclaimed Herbert.
It was, indeed, one of those beautiful birds, whose harsh plumage is
covered with a metallic lustre. Some small shot dropped it to the
earth, and Top brought it, and also some touracolories, climbing birds,
the size of pigeons, to the canoe. The honor of this first shot
belonged to the lad, who was pleased enough with the result. The
touracolories were better game than the jacamar, the flash of the
latter being tough, but it would have been hard to persuade Pencroff
that they had not killed the most delicious of birds.
It was 10 o’clock when the canoe reached the second bend of the river,
some five miles from the mouth. Here they stopped half an hour, under
the shadow of the trees, for breakfast.
The river measured from sixty to seventy feet in width, and was five or
six feet deep. The engineer had remarked its several affluents, but
they were simply unnavigable streams. The Forests of the Far West, or
Jacamar Wood, extended farther than they could see, but no where could
they detect the presence of man. If, therefore, any persons had been
shipwrecked on the island, they had not yet quitted the shore, and it
was not in those thick coverts that search must be made for the
survivors.
The engineer began to manifest some anxiety to get to the western coast
of the island, distant, as he calculated, about five miles or less. The
journey was resumed, and, although the course of the Mercy, sometimes
towards the shore, was oftener towards the mountain, it was thought
better to follow it as long as possible, on account of the fatigue and
loss of time incident to hewing a way through the wood. Soon, the tide
having attained its height, Herbert and Neb took the oars, and Pencroff
the paddle, wad they continued the ascent by rowing.
It seemed as if the forest of the Far West began to grow thinner. But,
as the trees grew farther apart, they profited by the increased space,
and attained a splendid growth.
“Eucalypti!” cried Herbert, descrying some of these superb plants, the
loftiest giants of the extra-tropical zone, the congeners of the
eucalypti of Australia and New Zealand, both of which countries were
situated in the same latitude as Lincoln Island. Some rose 200 feet in
height and measured twenty feet in circumference, and their bark, five
fingers in thickness, exuded an aromatic resin. Equally wonderful were
the enormous specimens of myrtle, their leaves extending edgewise to
the sun, and permitting its rays to penetrate and fall upon the ground.
“What trees!” exclaimed Neb. “Are they good for anything?”
“Pshaw!” answered Pencroff. “They are like overgrown men, good for
nothing but to show in fairs!”
“I think you’re wrong, Pencroff,” said Spilett, “the eucalyptus wood is
beginning to be extensively used in cabinet work.”
“And I am sure,” added Herbert, “that it belongs to a most useful
family,” and thereupon the young naturalist enumerated many species of
the plant and their uses.
Every one listened to the lad’s lesson in botany, Smith smiling,
Pencroff with an indescribable pride. “That’s all very well, Herbert,”
answered the sailor, “but I dare swear that of all these useful
specimens none are as large as these!”
“That is so.”
“Then, that proves what I said,” replied the sailor, “that giants are
good for nothing.”
“There’s where you are wrong, Pencroff,” said the engineer, “these very
eucalypti are good for something.”
“For what?”
“To render the country healthy about them. Do you know what they call
them In Australia and New Zealand?”
“No sir.”
“They call them ‘fever’ trees.”
“Because they give it?”
“No; because they prevent it!”
“Good. I shall make a note of that,” said the reporter.
“Note then, my dear Spilett, that it has been proved that the presence
of these trees neutralizes marsh miasmas. They have tried this natural
remedy in certain unhealthy parts of Europe, and northern Africa, with
the best results. And there are no intermittent fevers in the region of
these forests, which is a fortunate thing for us colonists of Lincoln
Island.”
“What a blessed island!” cried Pencroff. “It would lack nothing—if it
was not—”
“That will come, Pencroff, we will find it,” answered the reporter;
“but now let us attend to our work and push on as far as we can get
with the canoe.”
They continued on through the woods two miles further, the river
becoming more winding, shallow, and so narrow that Pencroff pushed
along with a pole. The sun was setting, and, as it would be impossible
to pass in the darkness through the five or six miles of unknown woods
which the engineer estimated lay between them and the coast, it was
determined to camp wherever the canoe was obliged to stop.
They now pushed on without delay through the forest, which grew more
dense, and seemed more inhabited, because, if the sailor’s eyes did not
deceive him, he perceived troops of monkeys running among the
underbrush. Sometimes, two or three of these animals would halt at a
distance from the canoe and regard its occupants, as if, seeing men for
the first time, they had not then learned to fear them. It would have
been easy to have shot some of these quadrumanes, but Smith was opposed
to the useless slaughter. Pencroff, however, looked upon the monkey
from a gastronomic point of view, and, indeed, as these animals are
entirely herberiferous, they make excellent game; but since provisions
abounded, it was useless to waste the ammunition.
Towards 4 o’clock the navigation of the Mercy became very difficult,
its course being obstructed by rocks and aquatic plants. The banks rose
higher and higher, and, already, the bed of the stream was confined
between the outer spurs of Mount Franklin. Its sources could not be far
off, since the waters were fed by the southern watershed of that
mountain.
“Before a quarter of an hour we will have to stop, sir,” said Pencroff.
“Well, then, we will make a camp for the night.”
“How far are we from Granite House?” asked Herbert.
“About seven miles, counting the bends of the river, which have taken
us to the northwest.”
“Shall we keep on?” asked the reporter.
“Yes, as far as we can get,” answered the engineer. “To-morrow, at
daylight, we will leave the canoe, and traverse, in two hours I hope,
the distance which separates us from the coast, and then we will have
nearly the whole day in which to explore the shore.”
“Push on,” cried Pencroff.
Very soon the canoe grated on the stones at the bottom of the river,
which was not more than twenty feet wide. A thick mass of verdure
overhung and descended the stream, and they heard the noise of a
waterfall, which indicated that some little distance further on there
existed a natural barrier.
And, indeed, at the last turn in the river, they saw the cascade
shining through the trees. The canoe scraped over the bottom and then
grounded on a rock near the right bank.
It was 5 o’clock, and the level rays of the setting sun illuminated the
little fall. Above, the Mercy, supplied from a secret source, was
hidden by the bushes. The various streams together had made it a river,
but here it was but a shallow, limpid brook.
They made camp in this lovely spot. Having disembarked, a fire was
lighted under a group of micocouliers, in whose branches Smith and his
companions could, if need be, find a refuge for the night.
Supper was soon finished, as they were very hungry, and then there was
nothing to do but to go to sleep. But some suspicious growling being
heard at nightfall, the fire was so arranged as to protect the sleepers
by its flames. Neb and Pencroff kept it lit, and perhaps they were not
mistaken in believing to have seen some moving shadows among the trees
and bushes; but the night passed without accident, and the next day—the
31st of October—by 5 o’clock all were on foot ready for the start.
CHAPTER XXVI.
GOING TOWARD THE COAST—TROOPS OF MONKEYS—A NEW WATER-COURSE—WHY THE
TIDE WAS NOT FELT—A FOREST ON THE SHORE—REPTILE PROMONTORY—SPILETT
MAKES HERBERT ENVIOUS—THE BAMBOO FUSILADE.
It was 6 o’clock when the colonists, after an early breakfast, started
with the intention of reaching the coast by the shortest route. Smith
had estimated that it would take them two hours, but it must depend
largely on the nature of the obstacles in the way. This part of the Far
West was covered with trees, like an immense thicket composed of many
different species. It was, therefore, probable that they would have to
make a way with hatchets in hand—and guns also, if they were to judge
from the cries heard over night.
The exact position of the camp had been determined by the situation of
Mount Franklin, and since the volcano rose less than three miles to the
north, it was only necessary to go directly toward the southwest to
reach the west coast.
After having seen to the mooring of the canoe, the party started, Neb
and Pencroff carrying sufficient provisions to last the little troop
for two days at least. They were no longer hunting, and the engineer
recommended his companions to refrain from unnecessary firing, so as
not to give warning of their presence on the coast. The first blows of
the hatchet were given in the bushes just above the cascade, while
Smith, compass in hand, indicated the route. The forest was, for the
most part, composed of such trees as had already been recognized about
the lake and on Prospect Plateau. The colonists could advance but
slowly, and the engineer believed that in time their route would join
with that of Red Creek.
Since their departure, the party had descended the low declivities
which constituted the orography of the island, over a very dry
district, although the luxuriant vegetation suggested either a
hydrographic network permeating the ground beneath, or the proximity to
some stream. Nevertheless, Smith did not remember having seen, during
the excursion to the crater, any other water courses than Bed Creek and
the Mercy.
During the first few hours of the march, they saw troops of monkeys,
who manifested the greatest astonishment at the sight of human beings.
Spilett laughingly asked if these robust quadrumanes did not look upon
their party as degenerate brethren; and, in truth, the simple
pedestrians, impeded at each step by the bushes, entangled in the
lianas, stopped by tree trunks, did not compare favorably with these
nimble animals, which bounded from branch to branch, moving about
without hindrance. These monkeys were very numerous, but, fortunately,
they did not manifest any hostile disposition.
They saw, also, some wild-boars, some agoutis, kangaroos, and other
rodents, and two or three koulas, which latter Pencroff would have been
glad to shoot.
“But,” said he, “the hunt has not begun. Play now, my friends, and we
will talk to you when we come back.”
At half-past 9, the route, which bore directly southwest, was suddenly
interrupted by a rapid stream, rushing over rocks, and pent in between
banks but thirty or forty feet apart. It was deep and clear, but
absolutely unnavigable.
“We are stopped!” cried Neb.
“No,” replied Herbert; “we can swim such a brook as this.”
“Why should we do that?” answered Smith. “It is certain that this creek
empties into the sea. Let us keep to this bank and I will be astonished
if it does not soon bring us to the coast. Come on!”
“One minute,” said the reporter. “The name of this creek, my friends?
We must not leave our geography incomplete.”
“True enough,” said Pencroff.
“You name it, my boy,” said the engineer, addressing Herbert.
“Will not it be better to wait till we have discovered its mouth?”
asked Herbert.
“Right,” replied Smith, “let us push on.”
“Another minute,” exclaimed Pencroff.
“What more?” demanded the reporter.
“If hunting is forbidden, fishing is allowed, I suppose,” said the
sailor.
“We haven’t the time to waste,” answered the engineer.
“But just five minutes,” pleaded Pencroff; “I only want five minutes
for the sake of breakfast!” And lying down on the bank he plunged his
arms in the running waters and soon brought up several dozen of the
fine crawfish which swarmed between the rocks.
“These will be good!” cried Neb, helping the sailor.
“Did not I tell you that the island had everything but tobacco?” sighed
the sailor.
It took but five minutes to fill a sack with these little blue
crustaceæ, and then the journey was resumed.
By following the bank the colonists moved more freely. Now and then
they found traces of large animals which came to the stream for water,
but they found no sign of human beings, and they were not yet in that
part of the Far West where the peccary had received the leaden pellet
which cost Pencroff a tooth.
Smith and his companions judged, from the fact that the current rushed
towards the sea with such rapidity, that they must be much farther
from, the coast than they imagined, because at this time the tide was
rising, and its’ effect would have been visible near the mouth of the
creek. The engineer was greatly astonished, and often consulted his
compass to be sure that the stream, was not returning towards the
depths of the forest. Meantime, its waters, gradually widening, became
less tumultuous. The growth of trees on the right bank was much denser
than on the left, and it was impossible to see through this thicket;
but these woods were certainly not inhabited, or Top would have
discovered it. At half-past 10, to the extreme surprise of Smith,
Herbert, who was walking some paces ahead, suddenly stopped,
exclaiming, “The sea!”
And a few minutes later the colonists, standing upon the border of the
forest, saw the western coast of the island spread before them.
But what a contrast was this coast to the one on which chance had
thrown them! No granite wall, no reef in the offing, not even a beach.
The forest formed the shore, and its furthermost trees, washed by the
waves, leaned over the waters. It was in no sense such a beach as is
usually met with, composed of vast reaches of sand or heaps of rocks,
but a fine border of beautiful trees. The bank was raised above the
highest tides, and upon this rich soil, supported by a granite base,
the splendid monarchs of the forest seemed to be as firmly set as were
those which stood in the interior of the island.
The colonists stood in a hollow by a tiny rivulet, which served as a
neck to the other stream; but, curiously enough, these waters, instead
of emptying into the sea by a gently sloping opening, fell from a
height of more than forty feet—which fact explained why the rising tide
did not affect the current. And, on this account, they were unanimous
in giving this water-course the name of Fall River.
Beyond, towards the north, the forest shore extended for two miles;
then the trees became thinner, and, still further on, a line of
picturesque heights extended from north to south. On the other hand,
all that part of the coast comprised between Fall River and the
promontory of Reptile End was bordered by masses of magnificent trees,
some upright and others leaning over the sea, whose waves lapped their
roots. It was evidently, therefore, on this part of the coast that the
exploration must be continued, as this shore offered to the castaways,
whoever they might be, a refuge, which the other, desert and savage,
had refused.
The weather was beautiful, and from the cliff where the breakfast had
been prepared, the view extended far and wide. The horizon was
perfectly distinct, without a sail in sight, and upon the coast, as far
as could be seen, there was neither boat nor wreck, but the engineer
was not willing to be satisfied in this respect, until they had
explored the whole distance as far as Serpentine Peninsula.
After a hurried breakfast he gave the signal to start. Instead of
traversing a beach, the colonists followed along the coast, under the
trees. The distance to Reptile End was about twelve miles, and, had the
way been clear, they could have accomplished it in four hours, but the
party were constantly obliged to turn out from the way, or to cut
branches, or to break through thickets, and these hindrances multiplied
as they proceeded. But they saw no signs of a recent shipwreck on the
shore; although, as Spilett observed, as the tide was up, they could
not say with certainty that there had not been one.
This reasoning was just, and, moreover, the incident of the bullet
proved, indubitably, that within three months a gun had been fired on
the island.
At 5 o’clock the extremity of the peninsula was still two miles
distant, and it was evident that the colonists would have to camp for
the night on the promontory of Reptile End. Happily, game was as plenty
here as on the other coast, and birds of different kinds abounded. Two
hours later, the party, tired out, reached the promontory. Here the
forest border ended, and the shore assumed the usual aspect of a coast.
It was possible that an abandoned vessel might be here, but, as the
night was falling, it was necessary to postpone the exploration until
the morrow.
Pencroff and Herbert hastened to find a suitable place for a camp. The
outskirts of the forest died away here, and near them the lad found a
bamboo thicket.
“Good,” said he, “this is a valuable discovery.”
“Valuable?” asked Pencroff.
“Yes, indeed, I need not tell you, Pencroff, all its uses, such as for
making baskets, paper, and water-pipes; that the larger ones make
excellent building material and strong jars. But—”
“But?”
“But perhaps you do not know that in India they eat bamboo as we do
asparagus.”
“Asparagus thirty feet high?” cried, Pencroff. “And is it good?”
“Excellent,” answered the lad. “But they eat only the young sprouts.”
“Delicious!” cried Pencroff.
“And I am sure that the pith of young plants preserved in vinegar makes
an excellent condiment.”
“Better and better.”
“And, lastly, they exude a sweet liquor which makes a pleasant drink.”
“Is that all?” demanded the sailor.
“That’s all.”
“Isn’t it good to smoke?”
“No, my poor Pencroff, you cannot smoke it!”
They did not have to search far for a good place for the camp. The
rocks, much worn by the action of the sea, had many hollows that would
afford shelter from the wind. But just as they were about to enter one
of these cavities they were arrested by formidable growlings.
“Get back!” cried Pencroff, “we have only small shot in our guns, and
these beasts would mind it no more than salt!”
And the sailor, seizing Herbert, dragged him behind some rocks, just as
a huge jaguar appeared at the mouth of the cavern. Its skin was yellow,
striped with black, and softened off with white under its belly. The
beast advanced, and looked about. Its hair was bristling, and its eyes
sparkling as if it was not scenting man for the first time.
Just then Spilett appeared, coming round the high rocks, and Herbert,
thinking he had not seen the jaguar, was about rushing towards him,
when the reporter, motioning with his hand, continued his approach. It
was not his first tiger.
Advancing within ten paces of the animal, he rested motionless, his gun
at his shoulder, not a muscle quivering. The jaguar, crouching back,
made a bound towards the hunter, but as it sprung a bullet struck it
between the eyes, dropping it dead.
Herbert and Pencroff rushed to it, and Smith and Neb coming up at the
moment, all stopped to look at the splendid animal lying at length upon
the sand.
“Oh, Mr. Spilett, how I envy you!” cried Herbert, in an excess of
natural enthusiasm.
“Well, my boy, you would have done as well,” answered the reporter.
“I have been as cool as that!”
“Only imagine, Herbert, that a jaguar is a hare, and you will shoot him
as unconcernedly as anything in the world! And now,” continued the
reporter, “since the jaguar has left his retreat I don’t see, my
friends, why we should not occupy the place during the night”
“But some others may return!” said Pencroff.
“We will only have to light a fire at the entrance of the cavern,” said
the reporter, “and they will not dare to cross the threshold.”
“To the jaguar house, then,” cried the sailor, dragging the body of the
animal after him.
The colonists went to the abandoned cave, and, while Neb was occupied
in skinning the carcass, the others busied themselves with piling a
great quantity of dry wood around the threshold. This done they
installed themselves in the cave, whose floor was strewn with bones;
the arms were loaded for an emergency; and, having eaten supper, as
soon as the time for sleep was come, the fire at the entrance was lit.
Immediately a tremendous fusilade ensued! It was the bamboo which, in
burning, exploded like fire-works! The noise, in itself, would have
been sufficient to frighten off the bravest beasts.
CHAPTER XXVII.
PROPOSAL TO RETURN BY THE SOUTH COAST—ITS CONFIGURATION—SEARCH FOR THE
SHIPWRECKED—A WAIF IN THE AIR—DISCOVERY OF A SMALL NATURAL
HARBOR—MIDNIGHT ON THE MERCY—A DRIFTING CANOE.
Smith and his companions slept like mice in the cavern which the jaguar
had so politely vacated, and, by sunrise, all were on the extremity of
the promontory, and scrutinizing the horizon visible on either hand. No
ship or wreck was to be seen, and not even with the spy-glass could any
suspicious object be discerned. It was the same along the shore, at
least on all that portion, three miles in length, which formed the
south side of the promontory; as, beyond that, a slope of the land
concealed the rest of the coast, and even from the extremity of
Serpentine Peninsula, Claw Cape was hidden by high rocks.
The southern bank of the island remained to be explored. Had they not
better attempt this at once, and give up this day to it? This procedure
had not entered into their first calculations, as, when the canoe was
left at the sources of the Mercy, the colonists thought that, having
explored the west coast, they would return by the river; Smith having
then believed that this coast sheltered either a wreck or a passing
ship. But as soon as this shore disclosed no landing place, it became
necessary to search the south side of the island for those whom they
had failed to discover on the west.
It was Spilett who proposed continuing the exploration so as to settle
definitely the question of the supposed shipwreck, and he inquired how
far it would be to Claw Cape.
“About thirty miles,” answered the engineer, “if we allow for the
irregularity of the shore.”
“Thirty miles!” exclaimed Spilett, “that would be a long walk.
Nevertheless, I think we should return to Granite House by the south
coast.”
“But,” observed Herbert, “from Claw Cape to Granite House is at least
ten miles further.”
“Call it forty miles altogether,” answered the reporter, “and do not
let us hesitate to do it. At least we will have seen this unknown
shore, and will not have it to explore over again.”
“That is so,” said Pencroff. “But how about the canoe?”
“The canoe can stay where it is for a day or two,” replied Spilett. “We
can hardly say that the island is infested with thieves!” ‘
“Nevertheless, when I remember that affair of the turtle, I am not so
confident.”
“The turtle! the turtle!” cried the reporter, “don’t you know that the
sea turned it over?”
“Who can say?” murmured the engineer.
“But—,” began Neb, who, it was evident, wished to say something.
“What is it, Neb?” questioned the engineer.
“If we do return by the shore to Claw Cape, after having gone round it,
we will be stopped—”
“By the Mercy!” cried Herbert. “And we have no bridge or boat!”
“Oh!” answered Pencroff, “we can cross it readily enough with some
logs.”
“Nevertheless,” said Spilett, “it would be well to build a bridge some
time if we wish to have ready access to the Far West.”
“A bridge!” cried Pencroff. “Well isn’t Mr. Smith State Engineer? If we
shall need a bridge we will have one. As to carrying you over the Mercy
to-night without getting wet, I will look out for that. We still have a
day’s provision, which is all that is necessary, and, besides, the game
may not give out to-day as It did yesterday. So let us go.”
The proposal of the reporter, strongly seconded by the sailor, obtained
general approval, as every one wished to end their doubts, and by
returning by Claw Cape the exploration would be complete. But no time
was to be lost, for the tramp was long, and they counted on reaching
Granite House that night. So by 6 o’clock the little party was on its
way, the guns loaded with ball in case of an encounter, and Top, who
went ahead, ordered to search the edge of the forest.
The first five miles of the distance was rapidly traversed, and not the
slightest sign of any human being was seen. When the colonists arrived
at the point where the curvature of the promontory ended, and
Washington Bay began, they were able to take in at one view the whole
extent of the southern coast. Twenty-five miles distant the shore was
terminated by Claw Cape, which was faintly visible through the morning
mists, and reproduced as a mirage in mid-air. Between the place
occupied by the colonists and the upper end of the Great Bay the shore
began with a flat and continuous beach, bordered in the background by
tall trees; following this, it became very irregular, and thrust sharp
points into the sea, and finally a heap of black rocks, thrown together
in picturesque disorder, completed the distance to Claw Cape.
“A ship would surely be lost on these sands and shoals and reefs,” said
Pencroff.
“It is poor quarters!”
“But at least a portion of her would be left,” observed the reporter.
“Some bits of wood would remain on the reefs, nothing on the sands,”
answered the sailor.
“How is that?”
“Because the sands are even more dangerous than the rocks, and swallow
up everything that is thrown upon them; a few days suffice to bury out
of sight the hull of a ship of many tons measurement.”
“Then, Pencroff,” questioned the engineer, “if a vessel had been lost
on these banks, it would not be surprising if there was no trace left?”
“No, sir, that is after a time or after a tempest. Nevertheless, it
would be surprising, as now, that no spars or timbers were thrown upon
the shore beyond the reach of the sea.”
“Let us continue our search,” replied Smith.
By 1 o’clock the party had accomplished twenty miles, having reached
the upper end of Washington Bay, and they stopped to lunch.
Here began an irregular shore, oddly cut into by a long line of rocks,
succeeding the sand banks, and just beginning to show themselves by
long streaks of foam, above the undulations of the receding waves. From
this point to Claw Cape the beach was narrow and confined between the
reef of rocks and the forest, and the march would therefore be more
difficult. The granite wall sunk more and more, and above it the tops
of the trees, undisturbed by a breath of air, appeared in the
background.
After half an hour’s rest the colonists took up the march again, on the
lookout for any sign of a wreck, but without success. They found out,
however, that edible mussels were plenty on this beach, although they
would not gather them until means of transport between the two banks of
the river should have been perfected.
Towards 3 o’clock, Smith and his companions reached a narrow inlet,
unfed by any water-course. It formed a veritable little natural harbor,
invisible from without, and approached by a narrow passage guarded by
the reefs. At the upper end of this creek some violent convulsion had
shattered the rock, and a narrow, sloping passage gave access to the
upper plateau, which proved to be ten miles from Claw Cape, and
therefore four miles in a direct line from Prospect Plateau.
Spilett proposed to his companions to halt here, and, as the march had
sharpened their appetites, although it was not dinner time, no one
objected to a bit of venison, and with this lunch they would be able to
await supper at Granite House.
Soon the colonists, seated under a group of splendid pines, were eating
heartily of the provisions which Neb had brought out from his
haversack. The place was some fifty or sixty feet above the sea, and
the view, extending beyond the furthest rock of the cape, was lost in
Union Bay. But the islet and Prospect Plateau were invisible, as the
high ground and the curtain of high trees shut out the horizon to the
north. Neither over the extent of sea nor on that part of the coast
which it was still necessary to explore could they discover even with
the spyglass any suspicious object.
“Well” said Spilett, “we can console ourselves by thinking that no one
is disputing the island with us.”
“But how about the pellet?” said Herbert. “It was not a dream.”
“Indeed it was not!” cried Pencroff, thinking of his missing tooth.
“Well, what are we to conclude?” asked the reporter.
“This,” said Smith, “that within three months a ship, voluntarily or
otherwise, has touched—”
“What! You will admit, Cyrus, that it has been swallowed up without
leaving any trace?” cried the reporter.
“No, my dear Spilett; but you must remember that while it is certain
that a human being has been here, it seems just as certain that he is
not here now.”
“Then, if I understand you sir,” said Herbert, “the ship has gone
again?”
“Evidently.”
“And we have lost, beyond return, a chance to get home?” said Neb.
“I believe without return.”
“Well then, since the chance is lost, let us push on,” said Pencroff,
already home-sick for Granite House.
“But, just as they were rising, Top’s barking was heard, and the dog
burst from the forest, holding in his mouth a soiled rag.
Neb took it from him. It was a bit of strong cloth. Top, still barking,
seemed by his motions to invite his master to follow into the wood.
“Here is something which will explain my bullet,” cried Pencroff.
“A shipwrecked person!” answered Herbert.
“Wounded, perhaps!” exclaimed Neb.
“Or dead!” responded the reporter.
And all holding their arms in readiness, hurried after the dog through
the outskirts of the forests. They advanced some distance into the
wood, but, to their disappointment, they saw no tracks. The underbrush
and lianas were uninjured and had to be cut away with the hatchet, as
in the depths of the forest. It was hard to imagine that any human
creature had passed there, and yet Top’s action showed no uncertainty,
but was more like that of a human being having a fixed purpose.
In a few minutes the dog stopped. The colonists, who had arrived at a
sort of glade surrounded by high trees, looked all about them, but
neither in the underbrush or between the tree trunks could they
discover a thing.
“What is it, Top?” said Smith.
Top, barking louder, ran to the foot of a gigantic pine.
Suddenly Pencroff exclaimed:—
“This is capital!”
“What’s that,” asked Spilett.
“We’ve been hunting for some waif on the sea or land—”
“Well?”
“And here it is in the air!”
And the sailor pointed out a mass of faded cloth caught on the summit
of the pine, a piece of which Top had found on the ground.
“But that is no waif!” exclaimed Spilett.
“Indeed it is,” answered Pencroff.
“How is it!”
“It is all that is left of our balloon, of our ship which is stranded
on the top of this tree.”
Pencroff was not mistaken, and he added, with a shout:—
“And there is good stuff in it which will keep us in linen for years.
It will make us handkerchiefs and shirts. Aha, Mr. Spilett! what do you
say of an island where shirts grow on the trees?”
It was, indeed, a fortunate thing for the colonists that the aerostat,
after having made its last bound into the air, had fallen again on the
island. They could, either keep the envelope in its present shape, in
case they might desire to attempt a new flight through the air, or,
after having taken off the varnish, they could make use of its hundreds
of ells of good cotton cloth. At these thoughts all shared Pencroff’s
joy.
It was no easy task to take down this envelope from the tree top. But
Neb, Herbert, and the sailor climbed up to it, and after two hours of
hard work not only the envelope, with its valve, springs, and leather
mountings, but the net, equivalent to a large quantity of cordage and
ropes, together with the iron ring and the anchor, lay upon the ground.
The envelope, excepting the rent, was in good order, and only its lower
end had been torn away.
It was a gift from heaven.
“Nevertheless, Mr. Smith,” said the sailor, “if we ever do decide to
leave the island it won’t be in a balloon, I hope. These air ships
don’t always go the way you want them to, as we have found out. If you
will let me have my way, we will build a ship of twenty tons, and you
will allow me to cut from this cloth a foresail and jib. The rest of it
will do for clothes.”
“We will see about it, Pencroff,” answered Smith.
“And meanwhile it must all be put away carefully,” said Neb.
In truth, they could not think of carrying all this weight of material
to Granite House; and while waiting for a proper means of removing it,
it was important not to leave it exposed to the weather. The colonists,
uniting their efforts, succeeded in dragging it to the shore, where
they discovered a cave so situated that neither wind, rain, nor sea
could get at it.
“It is a wardrobe,” said Pencroff; “but since it does not kick, it will
be prudent to hide the opening, not, perhaps from two-footed, but from
four-footed thieves!”
By 6 o’clock everything was stored away, and after having named the
little inlet, Balloon, Harbor, they took the road for Claw Cape.
Pencroff and the engineer discussed several projects, which it would be
well to attend to at once. The first thing was to build a bridge across
the Mercy, and, as the canoe was too small, to bring the balloon over
in the cart. Then to build a decked launch, which Pencroff would make
cutter-rigged, and in which they could make voyages of
circumnavigation—around the island; then, etc.
In the meantime the night approached, and it was already dark, when the
colonists reached Jetsam Point, where they had discovered the precious
box. But here, as elsewhere, there was nothing to indicate a shipwreck,
and it became necessary to adopt the opinions expressed by Smith.
The four miles from Jetsam Point to Granite House were quickly
traversed, but it was midnight when the colonists arrived at the first
bend above the mouth of the Mercy. There the river was eighty feet
wide, and Pencroff, who had undertaken to overcome the difficulty of
crossing it, set to work. It must be admitted that the colonists were
fatigued. The tramp had been long, and the incident of the balloon had
not rested their arms or legs. They were therefore anxious to get back
to Granite House to supper and bed, and if they had only had the
bridge, in a quarter of an hour they could have been at home.
The night was very dark. Pencroff and Neb, armed with the hatchets,
chose two trees near the bank, and began cutting them down, in order to
make a raft. Smith and Spilett, seated on the ground, waited to assist
their companions, and Herbert sauntered about, doing nothing.
All at once the lad, who had gone up the stream, returned hurriedly,
and, pointing back, exclaimed:—
“What is that drifting there?”
Pencroff stopped work and perceived an object resting motionless in the
gloom.
“A canoe!” he exclaimed.
All came up and saw, to their astonishment, a boat following the
current.
“Canoe, ahoy!” shouted Pencroff from force of habit, forgetting that it
might be better to keep quiet.
There was no answer. The boat continued to drift, and it was not more
than a dozen paces off, when the sailor exclaimed:—
“Why, it’s our canoe! She has broken away and drifted down with the
current. Well, we must admit that she comes in the nick of time!”
“Our canoe!” murmured the engineer.
Pencroff was right. It was indeed their canoe, which had doubtless
broken loose and drifted all the way from the headwaters of the Mercy!
It was important to seize it in passing before it should be drawn into
the rapid current at the mouth of the river, and Pencroff and Neb, by
the aid of a long pole, did this, and drew the canoe to the bank.
The engineer stepped in first, and, seizing the rope, assured himself
that it had been really worn in two against the rocks.
“This,” said the reporter in an undertone; “this is a coincidence—”
“It is very strange!” answered the engineer.
At least it was fortunate, and while no one could doubt that the rope
had been broken by friction, the astonishing part of the affair was
that the canoe had arrived at the moment when the colonists were there
to seize it, for a quarter of an hour later, and it would have been
carried out to sea. Had there been such things as genii, this incident
would have been sufficient to make the colonists believe that the
island was inhabited by a supernatural being, who placed his power at
their disposal.
With a few strokes the party arrived at the mouth of the Mercy. The
canoe was drawn on shore at the Chimneys, and all took their way to the
ladder at Granite House.
But, just then, Top began barking furiously, and Neb, who was feeling
for the lower rung, cried out:—
“The ladder’s gone!”
CHAPTER XXVIII
PENCROFF’S HALLOOS—A NIGHT IN THE CHIMNEYS—HERBERT’S ARROW—SMITH’S
PLAN—AN UNEXPECTED SOLUTION—WHAT HAD HAPPENED IN GRANITE HOUSE—HOW THE
COLONISTS OBTAINED A NEW DOMESTIC.
Smith stood silent. His companions searched in the obscurity along the
wall, over the ground, for the broken part of the ladder, supposing it
had been torn off by the wind. But the ladder had certainly
disappeared, although it was impossible to tell in the darkness whether
a gust of wind had not carried it up and lodged it on the first ledge.
“If this is a joke, it’s a pretty poor one,” cried Pencroff. “To get
home and not be able to find the staircase, won’t do for tired men.”
Neb stood in open-mouthed amazement.
“It could not have been carried away by the wind!” said Herbert.
“I’m beginning to think that strange things happen in Lincoln Island!”
said Pencroff.
“Strange?” rejoined Spilett. “Why no, Pencroff, nothing is more
natural. Somebody has come while we have been absent, and has taken
possession of the house and drawn up the ladder!”.
“Some one!” cried the sailor. “Who could it be?”
“Why, the man who shot the bullet,” answered the reporter “How else can
you explain it?”
“Very well, if any one is up there,” replied Pencroff, beginning to get
angry, “I will hail him, and he had better answer.”
And in a voice of thunder the sailor gave a prolonged “Ohe,” which was
loudly repeated by the echoes.
The colonists listened, and thought that they heard a sort of chuckling
proceed from Granite House. But there was no answering voice to the
sailor, who repeated his appeal in vain.
Here was an event that would have astonished people the most
indifferent, and from their situation the colonists could not be that.
To them, the slightest incident was of moment, and certainly during
their seven months’ residence nothing equal to this had happened.
They stood there at the foot of Granite House not knowing what to do or
to say. Neb was disconsolate at not being able to get back to the
kitchen, especially as the provisions taken for the journey had all
been eaten, and they had no present means of renewing them.
“There is but one thing to do, my friends,” said Smith, “to wait until
daylight, and then to be governed by circumstances. Meanwhile let us go
to the Chimneys, where we will be sheltered, and, even if we cannot
eat, we can sleep.”
“But who is the ill-mannered fellow that has played us this trick?”
asked Pencroff again, who thought it no joke.
Whoever he was, there was nothing to do but to follow the engineer’s
advice. Top having been ordered to lie down under the windows of
Granite House, took his place without complaint. The brave dog remained
at the foot of the wall, while his master and his companions took
shelter among the rocks.
The colonists, tired as they were, slept but little. Not only were
their beds uncomfortable, but it was certain that their house was
occupied at present, and they were unable to get into it. Now Granite
House was not only their dwelling, it was their storehouse. Everything
they possessed was stored there. It would be a serious thing if this
should be pillaged and they should have again to begin at the
beginning. In their anxiety, one or the other went out often to see if
the dog remained on watch. Smith, alone, waited with his accustomed
patience, although he was exasperated at finding himself confronted by
something utterly inexplicable, and his reason shrank from the thought
that around him, over him, perhaps, was exercising an influence to
which he could give no name. Spilett sharing his thoughts, they
conversed together in an undertone of those unaccountable events which
defied all their knowledge and experience. Certainly, there was a
mystery about this island, but how discover it? Even Herbert did not
know what to think, and often questioned Smith. As to Neb, he said that
this was his master’s business and not his; and if he had not feared
offending his companions, the brave fellow would have slept this night
as soundly as if he had been in his bed in Granite House.
Pencroff, however, was very much put out.
“It’s a joke,” he said. “It’s a joke that is played on us. Well, I
don’t like such jokes, and the joker won’t like it, if I catch him!”
At dawn the colonists, well armed, followed along the shore to the
reefs. By 5 o’clock the closed windows of Granite House appeared
through their leafy curtain. Everything, from this side, appeared to be
in order, but an exclamation escaped from the colonists when they
perceived that the door which they had left closed was wide open. There
could be no more doubt that some one was in Granite House, The upper
ladder was in its place; but the lower had been drawn up to the
threshold. It was evident that the intruders wished to guard against a
surprise. As to telling who or how many they were, that was still
impossible, as none had yet shown themselves.
Pencroff shouted again, but without answer.
“The beggars!” he exclaimed, “to sleep as soundly as if they were at
home! Halloo! pirates! bandits! corsairs! sons of John Bull!”
When Pencroff, as an American, called any one a “son of John Bull,” he
had reached the acme of insult.
Just then, the day broke and the facade of Granite House was
illuminated by the rays of the rising sun. But inside as well as
without all was still and calm. It was evident from the position of the
ladder that whoever had been inside the house had not come out. But how
could they get up to them?
Herbert conceived the idea of shooting an arrow attached to a cord
between the lower rungs of the ladder which were hanging from the
doorway: They would thus be able by means of the cord to pull this
ladder down, and gain access to Granite House. There was evidently
nothing else to do, and with a little skill this attempt might prove
successful. Fortunately there were bows and arrows at the Chimneys, and
they found there, also, some twenty fathoms of light hibiscus cord.
Pencroff unrolled this, and fastened the end to a well-feathered arrow.
Then Herbert having placed the arrow in his bow took careful aim at the
hanging part of the ladder.
The others stationed themselves some distance in the background to
observe what might happen, and the reporter covered the doorway with
his carbine.
The bow bent, the arrow shot upward with the cord, and passed between
the two lower rungs of the ladder. The operation had succeeded. But
just as Herbert, having caught the end of the cord, was about giving it
a pull to make the ladder fall, an arm thrust quickly between the door
and the wall seized the ladder and drew it within Granite House.
“You little beggar!” cried Pencroff. “If a ball would settle you, you
would not have to wait long!”
“But what is it?” demanded Neb.
“What! didn’t you see?”
“No.”
“Why, it’s a monkey, a macauco, a sapajo, an orang, a baboon, a
gorilla, a sagoin! Our house has been invaded by monkeys, which have
climbed up the ladder while we were away.”
And at the moment, as if to prove the truth of what the sailor said,
three or four quadrumana threw open the window shutters and saluted the
true proprietors of the place with a thousand contortions and grimaces.
“I knew all the time it was a joke,” cried Pencroff, “But here’s one of
the jokers that will pay for the others!” he added, covering a monkey
with his gun and firing. All disappeared but, this one, which, mortally
wounded, fell to the ground.
This monkey was very large and evidently belonged to the first order of
quadrumana. Whether a chimpanzee, an orang, a gorilla, or a gibbon, it
ranked among these anthropomorphi, so called on account of their
likeness to the human race. Herbert declared it was an orang-outang,
and we all know that the lad understood zoology.
“What a fine beast!” cried Neb.
“As fine as you choose!” answered the reporter, “but I don’t see yet
how we are going to get in!”
“Herbert is a good shot,” said the reporter, “and his bow is sure! We
will try again—”
“But these monkeys are mischievous,” cried Pencroff, “and if they don’t
come to the windows, we cannot shoot them; and when I think of the
damage they can do in the rooms and, in the magazine—”
“Have patience,” answered Smith. “These animals cannot hold us in
check, very long.”
“I will be sure of that when they are out of there, “rejoined Pencroff,
“Can you say how many dozens of these fools there may be?”
It would hare been hard to answer Pencroff, but it was harder to try
again the experiment of the arrow, as the lower end of the ladder had
been drawn within the doorway, and when they pulled on the cord again,
it broke, and the ladder remained, as before.
It was, Indeed, vexatious. Pencroff was in a fury, and, although the
situation had a certain comic aspect, he did not think it funny at all.
It was evident that the colonists would, eventually, get back into
their house and drive out the monkeys, but when and how they could not
say.
Two hours passed, during which the monkeys avoided showing themselves;
but they were there, for all that, and, two or three times, a muzzle or
paw slipped by the door or the windows, and was saluted by a shot.
“Let us conceal ourselves,” said the engineer, at length. “And then the
monkeys will think we have gone off, and will show themselves again.
Let Herbert and Spilett remain hidden behind the rocks and fire on any
that appear.