Produced by Judy Boss
IN SEARCH OF THE CASTAWAYS
By Jules Verne
From The Works Of Jules Verne
Edited By Charles F. Horne, Ph.D.
VOLUME FOUR
PAGE
IN SEARCH OF THE CASTAWAYS
SOUTH AMERICA . . . . . . 3
AUSTRALIA . . . . . . . 165
NEW ZEALAND . . . . . . . 305
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INTRODUCTION TO VOLUME FOUR
THE three books gathered under the title “In Search of the Castaways”
occupied much of Verne’s attention during the three years following
1865. The characters used in these books were afterwards reintroduced
in “The Mysterious Island,” which was in its turn a sequel to “Twenty
Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.” Thus this entire set of books form a
united series upon which Verne worked intermittently during ten years.
“In Search of the Castaways,” which has also been published as “The
Children of Captain Grant” and as “A Voyage Around the World,” is
perhaps most interesting in connection with the last of these titles. It
is our author’s first distinctly geographical romance. By an ingenious
device he sets before the rescuers a search which compels their
circumnavigation of the globe around a certain parallel of the southern
hemisphere. Thus they cross in turn through South America, Australia and
New Zealand, besides visiting minor islands.
The three great regions form the sub-titles of the three books which
compose the story. In each region the rescuers meet with adventures
characteristic of the land. They encounter Indians in America;
bushrangers in Australia; and Maoris in New Zealand. The passage of
the searching party gives ground,--one is almost tempted to say,
excuse,--for a close and careful description of each country and of its
inhabitants, step by step. Even the lesser incidents of the story
are employed to emphasise the distinctive features of each land. The
explorers are almost frozen on the heights of the Andes, and almost
drowned in the floods of the Patagonian Pampas. An avalanche sweeps some
of them away; a condor carries off a lad. In Australia they are stopped
by jungles and by quagmires; they hunt kangaroos. In New Zealand they
take refuge amid hot sulphur springs and in a house “tabooed”; they
escape by starting a volcano into eruption.
Here then are fancy and extravagance mixed with truth and information.
Verne has done a vast and useful work in stimulating the interest not
only of Frenchmen but of all civilised nations, with regard to the
lesser known regions of our globe. He has broadened knowledge and guided
study. During the years following 1865 he even, for a time, deserted
his favorite field of labor, fiction, and devoted himself to a popular
semi-scientific book, now superseded by later works, entitled “The
Illustrated Geography of France and her Colonies.”
Verne has perhaps had a larger share than any other single individual
in causing the ever-increasing yearly tide of international travel.
And because with mutual knowledge among the nations comes mutual
understanding and appreciation, mutual brotherhood; hence Jules Verne
was one of the first and greatest of those teachers who are now leading
us toward International Peace.
IN SEARCH OF THE CASTAWAYS
or
THE CHILDREN OF CAPTAIN GRANT
SOUTH AMERICA
CHAPTER I THE SHARK
ON the 26th of July, 1864, a magnificent yacht was steaming along the
North Channel at full speed, with a strong breeze blowing from the N.
E. The Union Jack was flying at the mizzen-mast, and a blue standard
bearing the initials E. G., embroidered in gold, and surmounted by a
ducal coronet, floated from the topgallant head of the main-mast. The
name of the yacht was the DUNCAN, and the owner was Lord Glenarvan, one
of the sixteen Scotch peers who sit in the Upper House, and the
most distinguished member of the Royal Thames Yacht Club, so famous
throughout the United Kingdom.
Lord Edward Glenarvan was on board with his young wife, Lady Helena, and
one of his cousins, Major McNabbs.
The DUNCAN was newly built, and had been making a trial trip a few miles
outside the Firth of Clyde. She was returning to Glasgow, and the Isle
of Arran already loomed in the distance, when the sailor on watch caught
sight of an enormous fish sporting in the wake of the ship. Lord Edward,
who was immediately apprised of the fact, came up on the poop a few
minutes after with his cousin, and asked John Mangles, the captain, what
sort of an animal he thought it was.
“Well, since your Lordship asks my opinion,” said Mangles, “I think it
is a shark, and a fine large one too.”
“A shark on these shores!”
“There is nothing at all improbable in that,” returned the captain.
“This fish belongs to a species that is found in all latitudes and in
all seas. It is the ‘balance-fish,’ or hammer-headed shark, if I am not
much mistaken. But if your Lordship has no objections, and it would
give the smallest pleasure to Lady Helena to see a novelty in the way of
fishing, we’ll soon haul up the monster and find out what it really is.”
“What do you say, McNabbs? Shall we try to catch it?” asked Lord
Glenarvan.
“If you like; it’s all one to me,” was his cousin’s cool reply.
“The more of those terrible creatures that are killed the better, at all
events,” said John Mangles, “so let’s seize the chance, and it will not
only give us a little diversion, but be doing a good action.”
“Very well, set to work, then,” said Glenarvan.
Lady Helena soon joined her husband on deck, quite charmed at the
prospect of such exciting sport. The sea was splendid, and every
movement of the shark was distinctly visible. In obedience to the
captain’s orders, the sailors threw a strong rope over the starboard
side of the yacht, with a big hook at the end of it, concealed in a
thick lump of bacon. The bait took at once, though the shark was full
fifty yards distant. He began to make rapidly for the yacht, beating
the waves violently with his fins, and keeping his tail in a perfectly
straight line. As he got nearer, his great projecting eyes could be seen
inflamed with greed, and his gaping jaws with their quadruple row of
teeth. His head was large, and shaped like a double hammer at the end
of a handle. John Mangles was right. This was evidently a
balance-fish--the most voracious of all the SQUALIDAE species.
The passengers and sailors on the yacht were watching all the animal’s
movements with the liveliest interest. He soon came within reach of the
bait, turned over on his back to make a good dart at it, and in a second
bacon and contents had disappeared. He had hooked himself now, as the
tremendous jerk he gave the cable proved, and the sailors began to haul
in the monster by means of tackle attached to the mainyard. He struggled
desperately, but his captors were prepared for his violence, and had a
long rope ready with a slip knot, which caught his tail and rendered him
powerless at once. In a few minutes more he was hoisted up over the side
of the yacht and thrown on the deck. A man came forward immediately,
hatchet in hand, and approaching him cautiously, with one powerful
stroke cut off his tail.
This ended the business, for there was no longer any fear of the shark.
But, though the sailors’ vengeance was satisfied, their curiosity was
not; they knew the brute had no very delicate appetite, and the contents
of his stomach might be worth investigation. This is the common practice
on all ships when a shark is captured, but Lady Glenarvan declined to
be present at such a disgusting exploration, and withdrew to the cabin
again. The fish was still breathing; it measured ten feet in length, and
weighed more than six hundred pounds. This was nothing extraordinary,
for though the hammer-headed shark is not classed among the most
gigantic of the species, it is always reckoned among the most
formidable.
The huge brute was soon ripped up in a very unceremonious fashion. The
hook had fixed right in the stomach, which was found to be absolutely
empty, and the disappointed sailors were just going to throw the remains
overboard, when the boatswain’s attention was attracted by some large
object sticking fast in one of the viscera.
“I say! what’s this?” he exclaimed.
“That!” replied one of the sailors, “why, it’s a piece of rock the beast
swallowed by way of ballast.”
“It’s just a bottle, neither more nor less, that the fellow has got in
his inside, and couldn’t digest,” said another of the crew.
“Hold your tongues, all of you!” said Tom Austin, the mate of the
DUNCAN. “Don’t you see the animal has been such an inveterate tippler
that he has not only drunk the wine, but swallowed the bottle?”
“What!” said Lord Glenarvan. “Do you mean to say it is a bottle that the
shark has got in his stomach.”
“Ay, it is a bottle, most certainly,” replied the boatswain, “but not
just from the cellar.”
“Well, Tom, be careful how you take it out,” said Lord Glenarvan, “for
bottles found in the sea often contain precious documents.”
“Do you think this does?” said Major McNabbs, incredulously.
“It possibly may, at any rate.”
“Oh! I’m not saying it doesn’t. There may perhaps be some secret in it,”
returned the Major.
“That’s just what we’re to see,” said his cousin. “Well, Tom.”
“Here it is,” said the mate, holding up a shapeless lump he had managed
to pull out, though with some difficulty.
“Get the filthy thing washed then, and bring it to the cabin.”
Tom obeyed, and in a few minutes brought in the bottle and laid it on
the table, at which Lord Glenarvan and the Major were sitting ready with
the captain, and, of course Lady Helena, for women, they say, are always
a little curious. Everything is an event at sea. For a moment they all
sat silent, gazing at this frail relic, wondering if it told the tale
of sad disaster, or brought some trifling message from a frolic-loving
sailor, who had flung it into the sea to amuse himself when he had
nothing better to do.
However, the only way to know was to examine the bottle, and Glenarvan
set to work without further delay, so carefully and minutely, that he
might have been taken for a coroner making an inquest.
He commenced by a close inspection of the outside. The neck was long and
slender, and round the thick rim there was still an end of wire hanging,
though eaten away with rust. The sides were very thick, and strong
enough to bear great pressure. It was evidently of Champagne origin, and
the Major said immediately, “That’s one of our Clicquot’s bottles.”
Nobody contradicted him, as he was supposed to know; but Lady Helena
exclaimed, “What does it matter about the bottle, if we don’t know where
it comes from?”
“We shall know that, too, presently, and we may affirm this much
already--it comes from a long way off. Look at those petrifactions all
over it, these different substances almost turned to mineral, we might
say, through the action of the salt water! This waif had been tossing
about in the ocean a long time before the shark swallowed it.”
“I quite agree with you,” said McNabbs. “I dare say this frail concern
has made a long voyage, protected by this strong covering.”
“But I want to know where from?” said Lady Glenarvan.
“Wait a little, dear Helena, wait; we must have patience with bottles;
but if I am not much mistaken, this one will answer all our questions,”
replied her husband, beginning to scrape away the hard substances round
the neck. Soon the cork made its appearance, but much damaged by the
water.
“That’s vexing,” said Lord Edward, “for if papers are inside, they’ll be
in a pretty state!”
“It’s to be feared they will,” said the Major.
“But it is a lucky thing the shark swallowed them, I must say,” added
Glenarvan, “for the bottle would have sunk to the bottom before long
with such a cork as this.”
“That’s true enough,” replied John Mangles, “and yet it would have been
better to have fished them up in the open sea. Then we might have found
out the road they had come by taking the exact latitude and longitude,
and studying the atmospheric and submarine currents; but with such a
postman as a shark, that goes against wind and tide, there’s no clew
whatever to the starting-point.”
“We shall see,” said Glenarvan, gently taking out the cork. A strong
odor of salt water pervaded the whole saloon, and Lady Helena asked
impatiently: “Well, what is there?”
“I was right!” exclaimed Glenarvan. “I see papers inside. But I fear it
will be impossible to remove them,” he added, “for they appear to have
rotted with the damp, and are sticking to the sides of the bottle.”
“Break it,” said the Major.
“I would rather preserve the whole if I could.”
“No doubt you would,” said Lady Helena; “but the contents are more
valuable than the bottle, and we had better sacrifice the one than the
other.”
“If your Lordship would simply break off the neck, I think we might
easily withdraw the papers,” suggested John Mangles.
“Try it, Edward, try it,” said Lady Helena.
Lord Glenarvan was very unwilling, but he found there was no
alternative; the precious bottle must be broken. They had to get a
hammer before this could be done, though, for the stony material had
acquired the hardness of granite. A few sharp strokes, however, soon
shivered it to fragments, many of which had pieces of paper sticking to
them. These were carefully removed by Lord Glenarvan, and separated and
spread out on the table before the eager gaze of his wife and friends.