This intense cold lasted till the 15th of August, without, however,
passing the degree of Fahrenheit already mentioned. When the atmosphere
was calm, the low temperature was easily borne, but when the wind blew,
the poor settlers, insufficiently clothed, felt it severely. Pencroft
regretted that Lincoln Island was not the home of a few families of
bears rather than of so many foxes and seals.
“Bears,” said he, “are generally very well dressed, and I ask no more
than to borrow for the winter the warm cloaks which they have on their
backs.”
“But,” replied Neb, laughing, “perhaps the bears would not consent to
give you their cloaks, Pencroft. These beasts are not St. Martins.”
“We would make them do it, Neb, we would make them,” replied Pencroft,
in quite an authoritative tone.
But these formidable carnivora did not exist in the island, or at any
rate they had not yet shown themselves.
In the meanwhile, Herbert, Pencroft, and the reporter occupied
themselves with making traps on Prospect Heights and at the border of
the forest.
According to the sailor, any animal, whatever it was, would be a lawful
prize, and the rodents or carnivora which might get into the new snares
would be well received at Granite House.
The traps were besides extremely simple; being pits dug in the ground,
a platform of branches and grass above, which concealed the opening, and
at the bottom some bait, the scent of which would attract animals. It
must be mentioned also, that they had not been dug at random, but
at certain places where numerous footprints showed that quadrupeds
frequented the ground. They were visited every day, and at three
different times, during the first days, specimens of those Antarctic
foxes which they had already seen on the right bank of the Mercy were
found in them.
“Why, there are nothing but foxes in this country!” cried Pencroft, when
for the third time he drew one of the animals out of the pit. Looking at
it in great disgust, he added, “beasts which are good for nothing!”
“Yes,” said Gideon Spilett, “they are good for something!”
“And what is that?”
“To make bait to attract other creatures!”
The reporter was right, and the traps were henceforward baited with the
foxes carcasses.
The sailor had also made snares from the long tough fibers of a certain
plant, and they were even more successful than the traps. Rarely a day
passed without some rabbits from the warren being caught. It was always
rabbit, but Neb knew how to vary his sauces and the settlers did not
think of complaining.
However, once or twice in the second week of August, the traps supplied
the hunters with other animals more useful than foxes, namely, several
of those small wild boars which had already been seen to the north of
the lake. Pencroft had no need to ask if these beasts were eatable. He
could see that by their resemblance to the pig of America and Europe.
“But these are not pigs,” said Herbert to him, “I warn you of that,
Pencroft.”
“My boy,” replied the sailor, bending over the trap and drawing out one
of these representatives of the family of sus by the little appendage
which served it as a tail. “Let me believe that these are pigs.”
“Why?”
“Because that pleases me!”
“Are you very fond of pig then, Pencroft?”
“I am very fond of pig,” replied the sailor, “particularly of its feet,
and if it had eight instead of four, I should like it twice as much!”
As to the animals in question, they were peccaries belonging to one of
the four species which are included in the family, and they were also of
the species of Tajacu, recognizable by their deep color and the absence
of those long teeth with which the mouths of their congeners are armed.
These peccaries generally live in herds, and it was probable that they
abounded in the woody parts of the island.
At any rate, they were eatable from head to foot, and Pencroft did not
ask more from them.
Towards the 15th of August, the state of the atmosphere was suddenly
moderated by the wind shifting to the northwest. The temperature rose
some degrees, and the accumulated vapor in the air was not long in
resolving into snow. All the island was covered with a sheet of white,
and showed itself to its inhabitants under a new aspect. The snow fell
abundantly for several days, and it soon reached a thickness of two
feet.
The wind also blew with great violence, and at the height of Granite
House the sea could be heard thundering against the reefs. In some
places, the wind, eddying round the corners, formed the snow into tall
whirling columns, resembling those waterspouts which turn round on their
base, and which vessels attack with a shot from a gun. However, the
storm, coming from the northwest, blew across the island, and the
position of Granite House preserved it from a direct attack.
But in the midst of this snow-storm, as terrible as if it had been
produced in some polar country, neither Cyrus Harding nor his companions
could, notwithstanding their wish for it, venture forth, and they
remained shut up for five days, from the 20th to the 25th of August.
They could hear the tempest raging in Jacamar Wood, which would surely
suffer from it. Many of the trees would no doubt be torn up by the
roots, but Pencroft consoled himself by thinking that he would not have
the trouble of cutting them down.
“The wind is turning woodman, let it alone,” he repeated.
Besides, there was no way of stopping it, if they had wished to do so.
How grateful the inhabitants of Granite House then were to Heaven for
having prepared for them this solid and immovable retreat! Cyrus Harding
had also his legitimate share of thanks, but after all, it was Nature
who had hollowed out this vast cavern, and he had only discovered it.
There all were in safety, and the tempest could not reach them. If
they had constructed a house of bricks and wood on Prospect Heights,
it certainly would not have resisted the fury of this storm. As to
the Chimneys, it must have been absolutely uninhabitable, for the sea,
passing over the islet, would beat furiously against it. But here, in
Granite House, in the middle of a solid mass, over which neither the sea
nor air had any influence, there was nothing to fear.
During these days of seclusion the settlers did not remain inactive.
There was no want of wood, cut up into planks, in the storeroom, and
little by little they completed their furnishing; constructing the
most solid of tables and chairs, for material was not spared. Neb and
Pencroft were very proud of this rather heavy furniture, which they
would not have changed on any account.
Then the carpenters became basket-makers, and they did not succeed badly
in this new manufacture. At the point of the lake which projected to the
north, they had discovered an osier-bed in which grew a large number
of purple osiers. Before the rainy season, Pencroft and Herbert had cut
down these useful shrubs, and their branches, well prepared, could now
be effectively employed. The first attempts were somewhat crude, but
in consequence of the cleverness and intelligence of the workmen,
by consulting, and recalling the models which they had seen, and by
emulating each other, the possessions of the colony were soon increased
by several baskets of different sizes. The storeroom was provided with
them, and in special baskets Neb placed his collection of rhizomes,
stone-pine almonds, etc.
During the last week of the month of August the weather moderated again.
The temperature fell a little, and the tempest abated. The colonists
sallied out directly. There was certainly two feet of snow on the shore,
but they were able to walk without much difficulty on the hardened
surface. Cyrus Harding and his companions climbed Prospect Heights.
What a change! The woods, which they had left green, especially in the
part at which the firs predominated, had disappeared under a uniform
color. All was white, from the summit of Mount Franklin to the shore,
the forests, the plains, the lake, the river. The waters of the Mercy
flowed under a roof of ice, which, at each rising and ebbing of the
tide, broke up with loud crashes. Numerous birds fluttered over the
frozen surface of the lake. Ducks and snipe, teal and guillemots were
assembled in thousands. The rocks among which the cascade flowed were
bristling with icicles. One might have said that the water escaped by a
monstrous gargoyle, shaped with all the imagination of an artist of the
Renaissance. As to the damage caused by the storm in the forest, that
could not as yet be ascertained; they would have to wait till the snowy
covering was dissipated.
Gideon Spilett, Pencroft, and Herbert did not miss this opportunity of
going to visit their traps. They did not find them easily, under the
snow with which they were covered. They had also to be careful not to
fall into one or other of them, which would have been both dangerous and
humiliating; to be taken in their own snares! But happily they avoided
this unpleasantness, and found their traps perfectly intact. No animal
had fallen into them, and yet the footprints in the neighborhood were
very numerous, among others, certain very clear marks of claws. Herbert
did not hesitate to affirm that some animal of the feline species had
passed there, which justified the engineer’s opinion that dangerous
beasts existed in Lincoln Island. These animals doubtless generally
lived in the forests of the Far West, but pressed by hunger, they had
ventured as far as Prospect Heights. Perhaps they had smelled out the
inhabitants of Granite House. “Now, what are these feline creatures?”
asked Pencroft. “They are tigers,” replied Herbert. “I thought those
beasts were only found in hot countries?”
“On the new continent,” replied the lad, “they are found from Mexico to
the Pampas of Buenos Aires. Now, as Lincoln Island is nearly under the
same latitude as the provinces of La Plata, it is not surprising that
tigers are to be met with in it.”
“Well, we must look out for them,” replied Pencroft.
However, the snow soon disappeared, quickly dissolving under the
influence of the rising temperature. Rain fell, and the sheet of white
soon vanished. Notwithstanding the bad weather, the settlers renewed
their stores of different things, stone-pine almonds, rhizomes, syrup
from the maple-tree, for the vegetable part; rabbits from the warren,
agouties, and kangaroos for the animal part. This necessitated several
excursions into the forest, and they found that a great number of trees
had been blown down by the last hurricane. Pencroft and Neb also pushed
with the cart as far as the vein of coal, and brought back several tons
of fuel. They saw in passing that the pottery kiln had been severely
damaged by the wind, at least six feet of it having been blown off.
At the same time as the coal, the store of wood was renewed at Granite
House, and they profited by the current of the Mercy having again become
free, to float down several rafts. They could see that the cold period
was not ended.
A visit was also paid to the Chimneys, and the settlers could not but
congratulate themselves on not having been living there during the
hurricane. The sea had left unquestionable traces of its ravages.
Sweeping over the islet, it had furiously assailed the passages, half
filling them with sand, while thick beds of seaweed covered the rocks.
While Neb, Herbert, and Pencroft hunted or collected wood, Cyrus Harding
and Gideon Spilett busied themselves in putting the Chimneys to rights,
and they found the forge and the bellows almost unhurt, protected as
they had been from the first by the heaps of sand.
The store of fuel had not been made uselessly. The settlers had not done
with the rigorous cold. It is known that, in the Northern Hemisphere,
the month of February is principally distinguished by rapid fallings of
the temperature. It is the same in the Southern Hemisphere, and the end
of the month of August, which is the February of North America, does not
escape this climatic law.
About the 25th, after another change from snow to rain, the wind shifted
to the southeast, and the cold became, suddenly, very severe. According
to the engineer’s calculation, the mercurial column of a Fahrenheit
thermometer would not have marked less than eight degrees below zero,
and this intense cold, rendered still more painful by a sharp gale,
lasted for several days. The colonists were again shut up in Granite
House, and as it was necessary to hermetically seal all the openings
of the facade, only leaving a narrow passage for renewing the air, the
consumption of candles was considerable. To economize them, the cavern
was often only lighted by the blazing hearths, on which fuel was not
spared. Several times, one or other of the settlers descended to the
beach in the midst of ice which the waves heaped up at each tide, but
they soon climbed up again to Granite House, and it was not without pain
and difficulty that their hands could hold to the rounds of the ladder.
In consequence of the intense cold, their fingers felt as if burned when
they touched the rounds. To occupy the leisure hours, which the tenants
of Granite House now had at their disposal, Cyrus Harding undertook an
operation which could be performed indoors.
We know that the settlers had no other sugar at their disposal than
the liquid substance which they drew from the maple, by making deep
incisions in the tree. They contented themselves with collecting this
liquor in jars and employing it in this state for different culinary
purposes, and the more so, as on growing old, this liquid began to
become white and to be of a syrupy consistence.
But there was something better to be made of it, and one day Cyrus
Harding announced that they were going to turn into refiners.
“Refiners!” replied Pencroft. “That is rather a warm trade, I think.”
“Very warm,” answered the engineer.
“Then it will be seasonable!” said the sailor.
This word refining need not awake in the mind thoughts of an elaborate
manufactory with apparatus and numerous workmen. No! to crystallize this
liquor, only an extremely easy operation is required. Placed on the fire
in large earthen pots, it was simply subjected to evaporation, and
soon a scum arose to its surface. As soon as this began to thicken,
Neb carefully removed it with a wooden spatula; this accelerated the
evaporation, and at the same time prevented it from contracting an
empyreumatic flavor.
After boiling for several hours on a hot fire, which did as much good to
the operators as the substance operated upon, the latter was transformed
into a thick syrup. This syrup was poured into clay molds, previously
fabricated in the kitchen stove, and to which they had given various
shapes. The next day this syrup had become cold, and formed cakes
and tablets. This was sugar of rather a reddish color, but nearly
transparent and of a delicious taste.
The cold continued to the middle of September, and the prisoners in
Granite House began to find their captivity rather tedious. Nearly every
day they attempted sorties which they could not prolong. They constantly
worked at the improvement of their dwelling. They talked while working.
Harding instructed his companions in many things, principally explaining
to them the practical applications of science. The colonists had no
library at their disposal; but the engineer was a book which was always
at hand, always open at the page which one wanted, a book which answered
all their questions, and which they often consulted. The time thus
passed away pleasantly, these brave men not appearing to have any fears
for the future.
However, all were anxious to see, if not the fine season, at least the
cessation of the insupportable cold. If only they had been clothed in a
way to meet it, how many excursions they would have attempted, either to
the downs or to Tadorn’s Fens! Game would have been easily approached,
and the chase would certainly have been most productive. But Cyrus
Harding considered it of importance that no one should injure his
health, for he had need of all his hands, and his advice was followed.
But it must be said, that the one who was most impatient of this
imprisonment, after Pencroft perhaps, was Top. The faithful dog found
Granite House very narrow. He ran backwards and forwards from one
room to another, showing in his way how weary he was of being shut
up. Harding often remarked that when he approached the dark well which
communicated with the sea, and of which the orifice opened at the back
of the storeroom, Top uttered singular growlings. He ran round and round
this hole, which had been covered with a wooden lid. Sometimes even he
tried to put his paws under the lid, as if he wished to raise it.
He then yelped in a peculiar way, which showed at once anger and
uneasiness.
The engineer observed this maneuver several times.
What could there be in this abyss to make such an impression on the
intelligent animal? The well led to the sea, that was certain. Could
narrow passages spread from it through the foundations of the island?
Did some marine monster come from time to time, to breathe at the bottom
of this well? The engineer did not know what to think, and could not
refrain from dreaming of many strange improbabilities. Accustomed to go
far into the regions of scientific reality, he would not allow
himself to be drawn into the regions of the strange and almost of the
supernatural; but yet how to explain why Top, one of those sensible dogs
who never waste their time in barking at the moon, should persist in
trying with scent and hearing to fathom this abyss, if there was nothing
there to cause his uneasiness? Top’s conduct puzzled Cyrus Harding even
more than he cared to acknowledge to himself.
At all events, the engineer only communicated his impressions to Gideon
Spilett, for he thought it useless to explain to his companions the
suspicions which arose from what perhaps was only Top’s fancy.
At last the cold ceased. There had been rain, squalls mingled with snow,
hailstorms, gusts of wind, but these inclemencies did not last. The ice
melted, the snow disappeared; the shore, the plateau, the banks of
the Mercy, the forest, again became practicable. This return of spring
delighted the tenants of Granite House, and they soon only passed in it
the hours necessary for eating and sleeping.
They hunted much in the second part of September, which led Pencroft to
again entreat for the firearms, which he asserted had been promised by
Cyrus Harding. The latter, knowing well that without special tools it
would be nearly impossible for him to manufacture a gun which would be
of any use, still drew back and put off the operation to some future
time, observing in his usual dry way, that Herbert and Spilett had
become very skilful archers, so that many sorts of excellent animals,
agouties, kangaroos, capybaras, pigeons, bustards, wild ducks, snipes,
in short, game both with fur and feathers, fell victims to their arrows,
and that, consequently, they could wait. But the obstinate sailor would
listen to nothing of this, and he would give the engineer no peace till
he promised to satisfy his desire. Gideon Spilett, however, supported
Pencroft.
“If, which may be doubted,” said he, “the island is inhabited by wild
beasts, we must think how to fight with and exterminate them. A time may
come when this will be our first duty.”
But at this period, it was not the question of firearms which occupied
Harding, but that of clothes. Those which the settlers wore had passed
this winter, but they would not last until next winter. Skins of
carnivora or the wool of ruminants must be procured at any price, and
since there were plenty of musmons, it was agreed to consult on the
means of forming a flock which might be brought up for the use of the
colony. An enclosure for the domestic animals, a poultry-yard for the
birds, in a word to establish a sort of farm in the island, such were
the two important projects for the fine season.
In consequence and in view of these future establishments, it became
of much importance that they should penetrate into all the yet unknown
parts of Lincoln Island, that is to say, through that thick forest which
extended on the right bank of the Mercy, from its mouth to the extremity
of the Serpentine Peninsula, as well as on the whole of its western
side. But this needed settled weather, and a month must pass before this
exploration could be profitably undertaken.
They therefore waited with some impatience, when an incident occurred
which increased the desire the settlers had to visit the whole of their
domain.
It was the 24th of October. On this day, Pencroft had gone to visit his
traps, which he always kept properly baited. In one of them he found
three animals which would be very welcome for the larder. They were a
female peccary and her two young ones.
Pencroft then returned to Granite House, enchanted with his capture,
and, as usual, he made a great show of his game.
“Come, we shall have a grand feast, captain!” he exclaimed. “And you
too, Mr. Spilett, you will eat some!”
“I shall be very happy,” replied the reporter; “but what is it that I am
going to eat?”
“Suckling-pig.”
“Oh, indeed, suckling-pig, Pencroft? To hear you, I thought that you
were bringing back a young partridge stuffed with truffles!”
“What?” cried Pencroft. “Do you mean to say that you turn up your nose
at suckling-pig?’
“No,” replied Gideon Spilett, without showing any enthusiasm; “provided
one doesn’t eat too much.”
“That’s right, that’s right,” returned the sailor, who was not pleased
whenever he heard his chase made light of. “You like to make objections.
Seven months ago, when we landed on the island, you would have been only
too glad to have met with such game!”
“Well, well,” replied the reporter, “man is never perfect, nor
contented.”
“Now,” said Pencroft, “I hope that Neb will distinguish himself. Look
here! These two little peccaries are not more than three months old!
They will be as tender as quails! Come along, Neb, come! I will look
after the cooking myself.”
And the sailor, followed by Neb, entered the kitchen, where they were
soon absorbed in their culinary labors.
They were allowed to do it in their own way. Neb, therefore, prepared
a magnificent repast--the two little peccaries, kangaroo soup, a smoked
ham, stone-pine almonds, Oswego tea; in fact, all the best that they
had, but among all the dishes figured in the first rank the savory
peccaries.
At five o’clock dinner was served in the dining-room of Granite House.
The kangaroo soup was smoking on the table. They found it excellent.
To the soup succeeded the peccaries, which Pencroft insisted on carving
himself, and of which he served out monstrous portions to each of the
guests.
These suckling-pigs were really delicious, and Pencroft was devouring
his share with great gusto, when all at once a cry and an oath escaped
him.
“What’s the matter?” asked Cyrus Harding.
“The matter? the matter is that I have just broken a tooth!” replied the
sailor.
“What, are there pebbles in your peccaries?” said Gideon Spilett.
“I suppose so,” replied Pencroft, drawing from his lips the object which
had cost him a grinder--!
It was not a pebble--it was a leaden bullet.
PART 2
ABANDONED
Chapter 1
It was now exactly seven months since the balloon voyagers had been
thrown on Lincoln Island. During that time, notwithstanding the
researches they had made, no human being had been discovered. No smoke
even had betrayed the presence of man on the surface of the island. No
vestiges of his handiwork showed that either at an early or at a late
period had man lived there. Not only did it now appear to be uninhabited
by any but themselves, but the colonists were compelled to believe that
it never had been inhabited. And now, all this scaffolding of reasonings
fell before a simple ball of metal, found in the body of an inoffensive
rodent! In fact, this bullet must have issued from a firearm, and who
but a human being could have used such a weapon?
When Pencroft had placed the bullet on the table, his companions looked
at it with intense astonishment. All the consequences likely to result
from this incident, notwithstanding its apparent insignificance,
immediately took possession of their minds. The sudden apparition of a
supernatural being could not have startled them more completely.
Cyrus Harding did not hesitate to give utterance to the suggestions
which this fact, at once surprising and unexpected, could not fail to
raise in his mind. He took the bullet, turned it over and over, rolled
it between his finger and thumb; then, turning to Pencroft, he asked,--
“Are you sure that the peccary wounded by this bullet was not more than
three months old?”
“Not more, captain,” replied Pencroft. “It was still sucking its mother
when I found it in the trap.”
“Well,” said the engineer, “that proves that within three months a
gun-shot was fired in Lincoln Island.”
“And that a bullet,” added Gideon Spilett, “wounded, though not
mortally, this little animal.”
“That is unquestionable,” said Cyrus Harding, “and these are the
deductions which must be drawn from this incident: that the island was
inhabited before our arrival, or that men have landed here within three
months. Did these men arrive here voluntarily or involuntarily, by
disembarking on the shore or by being wrecked? This point can only be
cleared up later. As to what they were, Europeans or Malays, enemies or
friends of our race, we cannot possibly guess; and if they still inhabit
the island, or if they have left it, we know not. But these questions
are of too much importance to be allowed to remain long unsettled.”
“No! a hundred times no! a thousand times no!” cried the sailor,
springing up from the table. “There are no other men than ourselves on
Lincoln Island! By my faith! The island isn’t large and if it had been
inhabited, we should have seen some of the inhabitants long before
this!”
“In fact, the contrary would be very astonishing,” said Herbert.
“But it would be much more astonishing, I should think,” observed the
reporter, “if this peccary had been born with a bullet in its inside!”
“At least,” said Neb seriously, “if Pencroft has not had--”
“Look here, Neb,” burst out Pencroft. “Do you think I could have a
bullet in my jaw for five or six months without finding it out?
Where could it be hidden?” he asked, opening his mouth to show the
two-and-thirty teeth with which it was furnished. “Look well, Neb, and
if you find one hollow tooth in this set, I will let you pull out half a
dozen!”
“Neb’s supposition is certainly inadmissible,” replied Harding, who,
notwithstanding the gravity of his thoughts, could not restrain a smile.
“It is certain that a gun has been fired in the island, within three
months at most. But I am inclined to think that the people who landed
on this coast were only here a very short time ago, or that they just
touched here; for if, when we surveyed the island from the summit of
Mount Franklin, it had been inhabited, we should have seen them or we
should have been seen ourselves. It is therefore, probable that within
only a few weeks castaways have been thrown by a storm on some part of
the coast. However that may be, it is of consequence to us to have this
point settled.”
“I think that we should act with caution,” said the reporter.
“Such is my advice,” replied Cyrus Harding, “for it is to be feared that
Malay pirates have landed on the island!”
“Captain,” asked the sailor, “would it not be a good plan, before
setting out, to build a canoe in which we could either ascend the
river, or, if we liked, coast round the inland? It will not do to be
unprovided.”
“Your idea is good, Pencroft,” replied the engineer, “but we cannot wait
for that. It would take at least a month to build a boat.”
“Yes, a real boat,” replied the sailor; “but we do not want one for a
sea voyage, and in five days at the most, I will undertake to construct
a canoe fit to navigate the Mercy.”
“Five days,” cried Neb, “to build a boat?”
“Yes, Neb; a boat in the Indian fashion.”
“Of wood?” asked the Negro, looking still unconvinced.
“Of wood,” replied Pencroft, “or rather of bark. I repeat, captain, that
in five days the work will be finished!”
“In five days, then, be it,” replied the engineer.
“But till that time we must be very watchful,” said Herbert.
“Very watchful indeed, my friends,” replied Harding; “and I beg you to
confine your hunting excursions to the neighborhood of Granite House.”
The dinner ended less gaily than Pencroft had hoped.
So, then, the island was, or had been, inhabited by others than the
settlers. Proved as it was by the incident of the bullet, it was
hereafter an unquestionable fact, and such a discovery could not but
cause great uneasiness among the colonists.
Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett, before sleeping, conversed long about
the matter. They asked themselves if by chance this incident might not
have some connection with the inexplicable way in which the engineer had
been saved, and the other peculiar circumstances which had struck them
at different times. However, Cyrus Harding, after having discussed the
pros and cons of the question, ended by saying,--
“In short, would you like to know my opinion, my dear Spilett?”
“Yes, Cyrus.”
“Well, then, it is this: however minutely we explore the island, we
shall find nothing.”
The next day Pencroft set to work. He did not mean to build a boat with
boards and planking, but simply a flat-bottomed canoe, which would be
well suited for navigating the Mercy--above all, for approaching its
source, where the water would naturally be shallow. Pieces of bark,
fastened one to the other, would form a light boat; and in case of
natural obstacles, which would render a portage necessary, it would be
easily carried. Pencroft intended to secure the pieces of bark by means
of nails, to insure the canoe being water-tight.
It was first necessary to select the trees which would afford a strong
and supple bark for the work. Now the last storm had brought down a
number of large birch-trees, the bark of which would be perfectly suited
for their purpose. Some of these trees lay on the ground, and they had
only to be barked, which was the most difficult thing of all, owing to
the imperfect tools which the settlers possessed. However, they overcame
all difficulties.
While the sailor, seconded by the engineer, thus occupied himself
without losing an hour, Gideon Spilett and Herbert were not idle.
They were made purveyors to the colony. The reporter could not but
admire the boy, who had acquired great skill in handling the bow and
spear. Herbert also showed great courage and much of that presence of
mind which may justly be called “the reasoning of bravery.” These two
companions of the chase, remembering Cyrus Harding’s recommendations,
did not go beyond a radius of two miles round Granite House; but
the borders of the forest furnished a sufficient tribute of agoutis,
capybaras, kangaroos, peccaries, etc.; and if the result from the traps
was less than during the cold, still the warren yielded its accustomed
quota, which might have fed all the colony in Lincoln Island.
Often during these excursions, Herbert talked with Gideon Spilett on the
incident of the bullet, and the deductions which the engineer drew from
it, and one day--it was the 26th of October--he said--“But, Mr. Spilett,
do you not think it very extraordinary that, if any castaways have
landed on the island, they have not yet shown themselves near Granite
House?”
“Very astonishing if they are still here,” replied the reporter, “but
not astonishing at all if they are here no longer!”
“So you think that these people have already quitted the island?”
returned Herbert.
“It is more than probable, my boy; for if their stay was prolonged, and
above all, if they were still here, some accident would have at last
betrayed their presence.”
“But if they were able to go away,” observed the lad, “they could not
have been castaways.”
“No, Herbert; or, at least, they were what might be called provisional
castaways. It is very possible that a storm may have driven them to the
island without destroying their vessel, and that, the storm over, they
went away again.”
“I must acknowledge one thing,” said Herbert, “it is that Captain
Harding appears rather to fear than desire the presence of human beings
on our island.”
“In short,” responded the reporter, “there are only Malays who frequent
these seas, and those fellows are ruffians which it is best to avoid.”
“It is not impossible, Mr. Spilett,” said Herbert, “that some day or
other we may find traces of their landing.”
“I do not say no, my boy. A deserted camp, the ashes of a fire, would
put us on the track, and this is what we will look for in our next
expedition.”
The day on which the hunters spoke thus, they were in a part of the
forest near the Mercy, remarkable for its beautiful trees. There, among
others, rose, to a height of nearly 200 feet above the ground, some of
those superb coniferae, to which, in New Zealand, the natives give the
name of Kauris.
“I have an idea, Mr. Spilett,” said Herbert. “If I were to climb to the
top of one of these kauris, I could survey the country for an immense
distance round.”
“The idea is good,” replied the reporter; “but could you climb to the
top of those giants?”
“I can at least try,” replied Herbert.
The light and active boy then sprang on the first branches, the
arrangement of which made the ascent of the kauri easy, and in a few
minutes he arrived at the summit, which emerged from the immense plain
of verdure.
From this elevated situation his gaze extended over all the southern
portion of the island, from Claw Cape on the southeast, to Reptile End
on the southwest. To the northwest rose Mount Franklin, which concealed
a great part of the horizon.
But Herbert, from the height of his observatory, could examine all the
yet unknown portion of the island, which might have given shelter to the
strangers whose presence they suspected.
The lad looked attentively. There was nothing in sight on the sea, not
a sail, neither on the horizon nor near the island. However, as the bank
of trees hid the shore, it was possible that a vessel, especially if
deprived of her masts, might lie close to the land and thus be invisible
to Herbert.
Neither in the forests of the Far West was anything to be seen. The wood
formed an impenetrable screen, measuring several square miles, without a
break or an opening. It was impossible even to follow the course of the
Mercy, or to ascertain in what part of the mountain it took its source.
Perhaps other creeks also ran towards the west, but they could not be
seen.
But at last, if all indication of an encampment escaped Herbert’s sight
could he not even catch a glimpse of smoke, the faintest trace of which
would be easily discernible in the pure atmosphere?
For an instant Herbert thought he could perceive a slight smoke in the
west, but a more attentive examination showed that he was mistaken. He
strained his eyes in every direction, and his sight was excellent. No,
decidedly there was nothing there.
Herbert descended to the foot of the kauri, and the two sportsmen
returned to Granite House. There Cyrus Harding listened to the lad’s
account, shook his head and said nothing. It was very evident that
no decided opinion could be pronounced on this question until after a
complete exploration of the island.
Two days after--the 28th of October--another incident occurred, for
which an explanation was again required.
While strolling along the shore about two miles from Granite House,
Herbert and Neb were fortunate enough to capture a magnificent specimen
of the order of chelonia. It was a turtle of the species Midas, the
edible green turtle, so called from the color both of its shell and fat.
Herbert caught sight of this turtle as it was crawling among the rocks
to reach the sea.
“Help, Neb, help!” he cried.
Neb ran up.
“What a fine animal!” said Neb; “but how are we to catch it?”
“Nothing is easier, Neb,” replied Herbert. “We have only to turn the
turtle on its back, and it cannot possibly get away. Take your spear and
do as I do.”
The reptile, aware of danger, had retired between its carapace and
plastron. They no longer saw its head or feet, and it was motionless as
a rock.
Herbert and Neb then drove their sticks underneath the animal, and by
their united efforts managed without difficulty to turn it on its back.
The turtle, which was three feet in length, would have weighed at least
four hundred pounds.
“Capital!” cried Neb; “this is something which will rejoice friend
Pencroft’s heart.”
In fact, the heart of friend Pencroft could not fail to be rejoiced,
for the flesh of the turtle, which feeds on wrack-grass, is extremely
savory. At this moment the creature’s head could be seen, which was
small, flat, but widened behind by the large temporal fossae hidden
under the long roof.
“And now, what shall we do with our prize?” said Neb. “We can’t drag it
to Granite House!”
“Leave it here, since it cannot turn over,” replied Herbert, “and we
will come back with the cart to fetch it.”
“That is the best plan.”
However, for greater precaution, Herbert took the trouble, which Neb
deemed superfluous, to wedge up the animal with great stones; after
which the two hunters returned to Granite House, following the beach,
which the tide had left uncovered. Herbert, wishing to surprise
Pencroft, said nothing about the “superb specimen of a chelonian” which
they had turned over on the sand; but, two hours later, he and Neb
returned with the cart to the place where they had left it. The “superb
specimen of a chelonian” was no longer there!
Neb and Herbert stared at each other first; then they stared about them.
It was just at this spot that the turtle had been left. The lad even
found the stones which he had used, and therefore he was certain of not
being mistaken.
“Well!” said Neb, “these beasts can turn themselves over, then?’’
“It appears so,” replied Herbert, who could not understand it at all,
and was gazing at the stones scattered on the sand.
“Well, Pencroft will be disgusted!”
“And Captain Harding will perhaps be very perplexed how to explain this
disappearance,” thought Herbert.
“Look here,” said Neb, who wished to hide his ill-luck, “we won’t speak
about it.”
“On the contrary, Neb, we must speak about it,” replied Herbert.
And the two, taking the cart, which there was now no use for, returned
to Granite House.
Arrived at the dockyard, where the engineer and the sailor were working
together, Herbert recounted what had happened.
“Oh! the stupids!” cried the sailor, “to have let at least fifty meals
escape!”
“But, Pencroft,” replied Neb, “it wasn’t our fault that the beast got
away; as I tell you, we had turned it over on its back!”
“Then you didn’t turn it over enough!” returned the obstinate sailor.
“Not enough!” cried Herbert.
And he told how he had taken care to wedge up the turtle with stones.
“It is a miracle, then!” replied Pencroft.
“I thought, captain,” said Herbert, “that turtles, once placed on their
backs, could not regain their feet, especially when they are of a large
size?’
“That is true, my boy,” replied Cyrus Harding.
“Then how did it manage?”
“At what distance from the sea did you leave this turtle?” asked
the engineer, who, having suspended his work, was reflecting on this
incident.
“Fifteen feet at the most,” replied Herbert.
“And the tide was low at the time?”
“Yes, captain.”
“Well,” replied the engineer, “what the turtle could not do on the sand
it might have been able to do in the water. It turned over when the tide
overtook it, and then quietly returned to the deep sea.”
“Oh! what stupids we were!” cried Neb.
“That is precisely what I had the honor of telling you before!” returned
the sailor.
Cyrus Harding had given this explanation, which, no doubt, was
admissible. But was he himself convinced of the accuracy of this
explanation? It cannot be said that he was.
Chapter 2
On the 9th of October the bark canoe was entirely finished. Pencroft
had kept his promise, and a light boat, the shell of which was joined
together by the flexible twigs of the crejimba, had been constructed in
five days. A seat in the stern, a second seat in the middle to preserve
the equilibrium, a third seat in the bows, rowlocks for the two oars, a
scull to steer with, completed the little craft, which was twelve feet
long, and did not weigh more than two hundred pounds. The operation of
launching it was extremely simple. The canoe was carried to the beach
and laid on the sand before Granite House, and the rising tide floated
it. Pencroft, who leaped in directly, maneuvered it with the scull and
declared it to be just the thing for the purpose to which they wished to
put it.
“Hurrah!” cried the sailor, who did not disdain to celebrate thus his
own triumph. “With this we could go round--”
“The world?” asked Gideon Spilett.
“No, the island. Some stones for ballast, a mast and a sail, which the
captain will make for us some day, and we shall go splendidly! Well,
captain--and you, Mr. Spilett; and you, Herbert; and you, Neb--aren’t
you coming to try our new vessel? Come along! we must see if it will
carry all five of us!”
This was certainly a trial which ought to be made. Pencroft soon brought
the canoe to the shore by a narrow passage among the rocks, and it was
agreed that they should make a trial of the boat that day by following
the shore as far as the first point at which the rocks of the south
ended.
As they embarked, Neb cried,--
“But your boat leaks rather, Pencroft.”
“That’s nothing, Neb,” replied the sailor; “the wood will get seasoned.
In two days there won’t be a single leak, and our boat will have no more
water in her than there is in the stomach of a drunkard. Jump in!”
They were soon all seated, and Pencroft shoved off. The weather was
magnificent, the sea as calm as if its waters were contained within
the narrow limits of a lake. Thus the boat could proceed with as much
security as if it was ascending the tranquil current of the Mercy.
Neb took one of the oars, Herbert the other, and Pencroft remained in
the stern in order to use the scull.
The sailor first crossed the channel, and steered close to the southern
point of the islet. A light breeze blew from the south. No roughness was
found either in the channel or the green sea. A long swell, which the
canoe scarcely felt, as it was heavily laden, rolled regularly over the
surface of the water. They pulled out about half a mile distant from the
shore, that they might have a good view of Mount Franklin.
Pencroft afterwards returned towards the mouth of the river. The boat
then skirted the shore, which, extending to the extreme point, hid all
Tadorn’s Fens.
This point, of which the distance was increased by the irregularity of
the coast, was nearly three miles from the Mercy. The settlers resolved
to go to its extremity, and only go beyond it as much as was necessary
to take a rapid survey of the coast as far as Claw Cape.
The canoe followed the windings of the shore, avoiding the rocks
which fringed it, and which the rising tide began to cover. The cliff
gradually sloped away from the mouth of the river to the point. This was
formed of granite rocks, capriciously distributed, very different from
the cliff at Prospect Heights, and of an extremely wild aspect. It might
have been said that an immense cartload of rocks had been emptied out
there. There was no vegetation on this sharp promontory, which projected
two miles from the forest, and it thus represented a giant’s arm
stretched out from a leafy sleeve.
The canoe, impelled by the two oars, advanced without difficulty. Gideon
Spilett, pencil in one hand and notebook in the other, sketched the
coast in bold strokes. Neb, Herbert, and Pencroft chatted, while
examining this part of their domain, which was new to them, and, in
proportion as the canoe proceeded towards the south, the two Mandible
Capes appeared to move, and surround Union Bay more closely.
As to Cyrus Harding, he did not speak; he simply gazed, and by the
mistrust which his look expressed, it appeared that he was examining
some strange country.
In the meantime, after a voyage of three-quarters of an hour, the
canoe reached the extremity of the point, and Pencroft was preparing to
return, when Herbert, rising, pointed to a black object, saying,--
“What do I see down there on the beach?”
All eyes turned towards the point indicated.
“Why,” said the reporter, “there is something. It looks like part of a
wreck half buried in the sand.”
“Ah!” cried Pencroft, “I see what it is!”
“What?” asked Neb.
“Barrels, barrels, which perhaps are full,” replied the sailor.
“Pull to the shore, Pencroft!” said Cyrus.
A few strokes of the oar brought the canoe into a little creek, and its
passengers leaped on shore.
Pencroft was not mistaken. Two barrels were there, half buried in the
sand, but still firmly attached to a large chest, which, sustained by
them, had floated to the moment when it stranded on the beach.
“There has been a wreck, then, in some part of the island,” said
Herbert.
“Evidently,” replied Spilett.
“But what’s in this chest?” cried Pencroft, with very natural
impatience. “What’s in this chest? It is shut up, and nothing to open it
with! Well, perhaps a stone--”
And the sailor, raising a heavy block, was about to break in one of the
sides of the chest, when the engineer arrested his hand.
“Pencroft,” said he, “can you restrain your impatience for one hour
only?”
“But, captain, just think! Perhaps there is everything we want in
there!”
“We shall find that out, Pencroft,” replied the engineer; “but trust
to me, and do not break the chest, which may be useful to us. We must
convey it to Granite House, where we can open it easily, and without
breaking it. It is quite prepared for a voyage; and since it has floated
here, it may just as well float to the mouth of the river.”
“You are right, captain, and I was wrong, as usual,” replied the sailor.
The engineer’s advice was good. In fact, the canoe probably would not
have been able to contain the articles possibly enclosed in the chest,
which doubtless was heavy, since two empty barrels were required to buoy
it up. It was, therefore, much better to tow it to the beach at Granite
House.
And now, whence had this chest come? That was the important question.
Cyrus Harding and his companions looked attentively around them, and
examined the shore for several hundred steps. No other articles or
pieces of wreck could be found. Herbert and Neb climbed a high rock
to survey the sea, but there was nothing in sight--neither a dismasted
vessel nor a ship under sail.
However, there was no doubt that there had been a wreck. Perhaps this
incident was connected with that of the bullet? Perhaps strangers had
landed on another part of the island? Perhaps they were still there?
But the thought which came naturally to the settlers was, that these
strangers could not be Malay pirates, for the chest was evidently of
American or European make.
All the party returned to the chest, which was of an unusually large
size. It was made of oak wood, very carefully closed and covered with
a thick hide, which was secured by copper nails. The two great barrels,
hermetically sealed, but which sounded hollow and empty, were fastened
to its sides by strong ropes, knotted with a skill which Pencroft
directly pronounced sailors alone could exhibit. It appeared to be in a
perfect state of preservation, which was explained by the fact that it
had stranded on a sandy beach, and not among rocks. They had no doubt
whatever, on examining it carefully, that it had not been long in the
water, and that its arrival on this coast was recent. The water did
not appear to have penetrated to the inside, and the articles which it
contained were no doubt uninjured.
It was evident that this chest had been thrown overboard from some
dismasted vessel driven towards the island, and that, in the hope
that it would reach the land, where they might afterwards find it,
the passengers had taken the precaution to buoy it up by means of this
floating apparatus.
“We will tow this chest to Granite House,” said the engineer, “where we
can make an inventory of its contents; then, if we discover any of the
survivors from the supposed wreck, we can return it to those to whom it
belongs. If we find no one--”
“We will keep it for ourselves!” cried Pencroft. “But what in the world
can there be in it?”
The sea was already approaching the chest, and the high tide would
evidently float it. One of the ropes which fastened the barrels was
partly unlashed and used as a cable to unite the floating apparatus with
the canoe. Pencroft and Neb then dug away the sand with their oars, so
as to facilitate the moving of the chest, towing which the boat soon
began to double the point, to which the name of Flotsam Point was given.
The chest was heavy, and the barrels were scarcely sufficient to keep
it above water. The sailor also feared every instant that it would get
loose and sink to the bottom of the sea. But happily his fears were not
realized, and an hour and a half after they set out--all that time had
been taken up in going a distance of three miles--the boat touched the
beach below Granite House.
Canoe and chest were then hauled up on the sands; and as the tide was
then going out, they were soon left high and dry. Neb, hurrying home,
brought back some tools with which to open the chest in such a way that
it might be injured as little as possible, and they proceeded to its
inventory. Pencroft did not try to hide that he was greatly excited.
The sailor began by detaching the two barrels, which, being in good
condition, would of course be of use. Then the locks were forced with a
cold chisel and hammer, and the lid thrown back. A second casing of zinc
lined the interior of the chest, which had been evidently arranged
that the articles which it enclosed might under any circumstances be
sheltered from damp.
“Oh!” cried Neb, “suppose it’s jam!
“I hope not,” replied the reporter.
“If only there was--” said the sailor in a low voice.
“What?” asked Neb, who overheard him.
“Nothing!”
The covering of zinc was torn off and thrown back over the sides of the
chest, and by degrees numerous articles of very varied character were
produced and strewn about on the sand. At each new object Pencroft
uttered fresh hurrahs, Herbert clapped his hands, and Neb danced up and
down. There were books which made Herbert wild with joy, and cooking
utensils which Neb covered with kisses!
In short, the colonists had reason to be extremely satisfied, for this
chest contained tools, weapons, instruments, clothes, books; and this
is the exact list of them as stated in Gideon Spilett’s note-book:
--Tools:--3 knives with several blades, 2 woodmen’s axes, 2 carpenter’s
hatchets, 3 planes, 2 adzes, 1 twibil or mattock, 6 chisels, 2 files,
3 hammers, 3 gimlets, 2 augers, 10 bags of nails and screws, 3 saws of
different sizes, 2 boxes of needles.
Weapons:--2 flint-lock guns, 2 for percussion caps, 2 breach-loader
carbines, 5 boarding cutlasses, 4 sabers, 2 barrels of powder, each
containing twenty-five pounds; 12 boxes of percussion caps.
Instruments:--1 sextant, 1 double opera-glass, 1 telescope, 1 box of
mathematical instruments, 1 mariner’s compass, 1 Fahrenheit thermometer,
1 aneroid barometer, 1 box containing a photographic apparatus,
object-glass, plates, chemicals, etc.
Clothes:--2 dozen shirts of a peculiar material resembling wool, but
evidently of a vegetable origin; 3 dozen stockings of the same material.
Utensils:--1 iron pot, 6 copper saucepans, 3 iron dishes, 10 metal
plates, 2 kettles, 1 portable stove, 6 table-knives.
Books:--1 Bible, 1 atlas, 1 dictionary of the different Polynesian
idioms, 1 dictionary of natural science, in six volumes; 3 reams of
white paper, 2 books with blank pages.
“It must be allowed,” said the reporter, after the inventory had been
made, “that the owner of this chest was a practical man! Tools, weapons,
instruments, clothes, utensils, books--nothing is wanting! It might
really be said that he expected to be wrecked, and had prepared for it
beforehand.”
“Nothing is wanting, indeed,” murmured Cyrus Harding thoughtfully.
“And for a certainty,” added Herbert, “the vessel which carried this
chest and its owner was not a Malay pirate!”
“Unless,” said Pencroft, “the owner had been taken prisoner by
pirates--”
“That is not admissible,” replied the reporter. “It is more probable
that an American or European vessel has been driven into this quarter,
and that her passengers, wishing to save necessaries at least, prepared
this chest and threw it overboard.”
“Is that your opinion, captain?” asked Herbert.
“Yes, my boy,” replied the engineer, “that may have been the case. It
is possible that at the moment, or in expectation of a wreck, they
collected into this chest different articles of the greatest use in
hopes of finding it again on the coast--”
“Even the photographic box!” exclaimed the sailor incredulously.
“As to that apparatus,” replied Harding, “I do not quite see the use of
it; and a more complete supply of clothes or more abundant ammunition
would have been more valuable to us as well as to any other castaways!”
“But isn’t there any mark or direction on these instruments, tools, or
books, which would tell us something about them?” asked Gideon Spilett.
That might be ascertained. Each article was carefully examined,
especially the books, instruments and weapons. Neither the weapons nor
the instruments, contrary to the usual custom, bore the name of the
maker; they were, besides, in a perfect state, and did not appear to
have been used. The same peculiarity marked the tools and utensils; all
were new, which proved that the articles had not been taken by chance
and thrown into the chest, but, on the contrary, that the choice of
things had been well considered and arranged with care. This was also
indicated by the second case of metal which had preserved them from
damp, and which could not have been soldered in a moment of haste.
As to the dictionaries of natural science and Polynesian idioms, both
were English; but they neither bore the name of the publisher nor the
date of publication.
The same with the Bible printed in English, in quarto, remarkable from a
typographic point of view, and which appeared to have been often used.
The atlas was a magnificent work, comprising maps of every country in
the world, and several planispheres arranged upon Mercator’s projection,
and of which the nomenclature was in French--but which also bore neither
date nor name of publisher.
There was nothing, therefore, on these different articles by which
they could be traced, and nothing consequently of a nature to show the
nationality of the vessel which must have recently passed these shores.
But, wherever the chest might have come from, it was a treasure to the
settlers on Lincoln Island. Till then, by making use of the productions
of nature, they had created everything for themselves, and, thanks to
their intelligence, they had managed without difficulty. But did it not
appear as if Providence had wished to reward them by sending them these
productions of human industry? Their thanks rose unanimously to Heaven.
However, one of them was not quite satisfied: it was Pencroft. It
appeared that the chest did not contain something which he evidently
held in great esteem, for in proportion as they approached the bottom
of the box, his hurrahs diminished in heartiness, and, the inventory
finished, he was heard to mutter these words:--“That’s all very fine,
but you can see that there is nothing for me in that box!”
This led Neb to say,--
“Why, friend Pencroft, what more do you expect?”
“Half a pound of tobacco,” replied Pencroft seriously, “and nothing
would have been wanting to complete my happiness!”
No one could help laughing at this speech of the sailor’s.
But the result of this discovery of the chest was, that it was now more
than ever necessary to explore the island thoroughly. It was therefore
agreed that the next morning at break of day, they should set out, by
ascending the Mercy so as to reach the western shore. If any castaways
had landed on the coast, it was to be feared they were without
resources, and it was therefore the more necessary to carry help to them
without delay.
During the day the different articles were carried to Granite House,
where they were methodically arranged in the great hall. This day--the
29th of October--happened to be a Sunday, and, before going to bed,
Herbert asked the engineer if he would not read them something from the
Gospel.
“Willingly,” replied Cyrus Harding.
He took the sacred volume, and was about to open it, when Pencroft
stopped him, saying,--“Captain, I am superstitious. Open at random
and read the first verse which, your eye falls upon. We will see if it
applies to our situation.”
Cyrus Harding smiled at the sailor’s idea, and, yielding to his wish, he
opened exactly at a place where the leaves were separated by a marker.
Immediately his eyes were attracted by a cross which, made with a
pencil, was placed against the eighth verse of the seventh chapter of
the Gospel of St. Matthew. He read the verse, which was this:--
“For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth.”
Chapter 3
The next day, the 30th of October, all was ready for the proposed
exploring expedition, which recent events had rendered so necessary. In
fact, things had so come about that the settlers in Lincoln Island no
longer needed help for themselves, but were even able to carry it to
others.
It was therefore agreed that they should ascend the Mercy as far as
the river was navigable. A great part of the distance would thus be
traversed without fatigue, and the explorers could transport their
provisions and arms to an advanced point in the west of the island.
It was necessary to think not only of the things which they should take
with them, but also of those which they might have by chance to bring
back to Granite House. If there had been a wreck on the coast, as was
supposed, there would be many things cast up, which would be lawfully
their prizes. In the event of this, the cart would have been of more use
than the light canoe, but it was heavy and clumsy to drag, and therefore
more difficult to use; this led Pencroft to express his regret that the
chest had not contained, besides “his halfpound of tobacco,” a pair
of strong New Jersey horses, which would have been very useful to the
colony!
The provisions, which Neb had already packed up, consisted of a store
of meat and of several gallons of beer, that is to say enough to sustain
them for three days, the time which Harding assigned for the expedition.
They hoped besides to supply themselves on the road, and Neb took care
not to forget the portable stove.
The only tools the settlers took were the two woodmen’s axes, which
they could use to cut a path through the thick forests, as also the
instruments, the telescope and pocket-compass.
For weapons they selected the two flint-lock guns, which were likely
to be more useful to them than the percussion fowling-pieces, the first
only requiring flints which could be easily replaced, and the latter
needing fulminating caps, a frequent use of which would soon exhaust
their limited stock. However, they took also one of the carbines and
some cartridges. As to the powder, of which there was about fifty pounds
in the barrel, a small supply of it had to be taken, but the engineer
hoped to manufacture an explosive substance which would allow them to
husband it. To the firearms were added the five cutlasses well sheathed
in leather, and, thus supplied, the settlers could venture into the vast
forest with some chance of success.
It is useless to add that Pencroft, Herbert, and Neb, thus armed, were
at the summit of their happiness, although Cyrus Harding made them
promise not to fire a shot unless it was necessary.
At six in the morning the canoe put off from the shore; all had
embarked, including Top, and they proceeded to the mouth of the Mercy.
The tide had begun to come up half an hour before. For several hours,
therefore, there would be a current, which it was well to profit by, for
later the ebb would make it difficult to ascend the river. The tide was
already strong, for in three days the moon would be full, and it was
enough to keep the boat in the center of the current, where it floated
swiftly along between the high banks without its being necessary
to increase its speed by the aid of the oars. In a few minutes the
explorers arrived at the angle formed by the Mercy and exactly at the
place where, seven months before, Pencroft had made his first raft of
wood.
After this sudden angle the river widened and flowed under the shade of
great evergreen firs.
The aspect of the banks was magnificent. Cyrus Harding and his
companions could not but admire the lovely effects so easily produced
by nature with water and trees. As they advanced the forest element
diminished. On the right bank of the river grew magnificent specimens of
the ulmaceae tribe, the precious elm, so valuable to builders, and which
withstands well the action of water. Then there were numerous groups
belonging to the same family, among others one in particular, the fruit
of which produces a very useful oil. Further on, Herbert remarked the
lardizabala, a twining shrub which, when bruised in water, furnishes
excellent cordage; and two or three ebony trees of a beautiful black,
crossed with capricious veins.
From time to time, in certain places where the landing was easy, the
canoe was stopped, when Gideon Spilett, Herbert, and Pencroft, their
guns in their hands, and preceded by Top, jumped on shore. Without
expecting game, some useful plant might be met with, and the young
naturalist was delighted with discovering a sort of wild spinach,
belonging to the order of chenopodiaceae, and numerous specimens of
cruciferae, belonging to the cabbage tribe, which it would certainly be
possible to cultivate by transplanting. There were cresses, horseradish,
turnips, and lastly, little branching hairy stalks, scarcely more than
three feet high, which produced brownish grains.
“Do you know what this plant is?” asked Herbert of the sailor.
“Tobacco!” cried Pencroft, who evidently had never seen his favorite
plant except in the bowl of his pipe.
“No, Pencroft,” replied Herbert; “this is not tobacco, it is mustard.”
“Mustard be hanged!” returned the sailor; “but if by chance you happen
to come across a tobacco-plant, my boy, pray don’t scorn that!”
“We shall find it some day!” said Gideon Spilett.
“Well!” exclaimed Pencroft, “when that day comes, I do not know what
more will be wanting in our island!”
These different plants, which had been carefully rooted up, were carried
to the canoe, where Cyrus Harding had remained buried in thought.
The reporter, Herbert, and Pencroft in this manner frequently
disembarked, sometimes on the right bank, sometimes on the left bank of
the Mercy.
The latter was less abrupt, but the former more wooded. The engineer
ascertained by consulting his pocket-compass that the direction of the
river from the first turn was obviously southwest and northeast, and
nearly straight for a length of about three miles. But it was to be
supposed that this direction changed beyond that point, and that the
Mercy continued to the north-west, towards the spurs of Mount Franklin,
among which the river rose.
During one of these excursions, Gideon Spilett managed to get hold
of two couples of living gallinaceae. They were birds with long, thin
beaks, lengthened necks, short wings, and without any appearance of
a tail. Herbert rightly gave them the name of tinamous, and it
was resolved that they should be the first tenants of their future
poultry-yard.
But till then the guns had not spoken, and the first report which awoke
the echoes of the forest of the Far West was provoked by the appearance
of a beautiful bird, resembling the kingfisher.
“I recognize him!” cried Pencroft, and it seemed as if his gun went off
by itself.
“What do you recognize?” asked the reporter.
“The bird which escaped us on our first excursion, and from which we
gave the name to that part of the forest.”
“A jacamar!” cried Herbert.
It was indeed a jacamar, of which the plumage shines with a metallic
luster. A shot brought it to the ground, and Top carried it to the
canoe. At the same time half a dozen lories were brought down. The lory
is of the size of a pigeon, the plumage dashed with green, part of
the wings crimson, and its crest bordered with white. To the young boy
belonged the honor of this shot, and he was proud enough of it. Lories
are better food than the jacamar, the flesh of which is rather tough,
but it was difficult to persuade Pencroft that he had not killed the
king of eatable birds. It was ten o’clock in the morning when the canoe
reached a second angle of the Mercy, nearly five miles from its mouth.
Here a halt was made for breakfast under the shade of some splendid
trees. The river still measured from sixty to seventy feet in breadth,
and its bed from five to six feet in depth. The engineer had observed
that it was increased by numerous affluents, but they were unnavigable,
being simply little streams. As to the forest, including Jacamar Wood,
as well as the forests of the Far West, it extended as far as the eye
could reach. In no place, either in the depths of the forests or under
the trees on the banks of the Mercy, was the presence of man revealed.
The explorers could not discover one suspicious trace. It was evident
that the woodman’s axe had never touched these trees, that the pioneer’s
knife had never severed the creepers hanging from one trunk to another
in the midst of tangled brushwood and long grass. If castaways had
landed on the island, they could not have yet quitted the shore, and it
was not in the woods that the survivors of the supposed shipwreck should
be sought.
The engineer therefore manifested some impatience to reach the western
coast of Lincoln Island, which was at least five miles distant according
to his estimation.
The voyage was continued, and as the Mercy appeared to flow not towards
the shore, but rather towards Mount Franklin, it was decided that they
should use the boat as long as there was enough water under its keel
to float it. It was both fatigue spared and time gained, for they would
have been obliged to cut a path through the thick wood with their axes.
But soon the flow completely failed them, either the tide was going
down, and it was about the hour, or it could no longer be felt at this
distance from the mouth of the Mercy. They had therefore to make use of
the oars. Herbert and Neb each took one, and Pencroft took the scull.
The forest soon became less dense, the trees grew further apart and
often quite isolated. But the further they were from each other the more
magnificent they appeared, profiting, as they did, by the free, pure air
which circulated around them.
What splendid specimens of the flora of this latitude! Certainly
their presence would have been enough for a botanist to name without
hesitation the parallel which traversed Lincoln Island.
“Eucalypti!” cried Herbert.
They were, in fact, those splendid trees, the giants of the
extratropical zone, the congeners of the Australian and New Zealand
eucalyptus, both situated under the same latitude as Lincoln Island.
Some rose to a height of two hundred feet. Their trunks at the base
measured twenty feet in circumference, and their bark was covered by a
network of farrows containing a red, sweet-smelling gum. Nothing is more
wonderful or more singular than those enormous specimens of the order of
the myrtaceae, with their leaves placed vertically and not horizontally,
so that an edge and not a surface looks upwards, the effect being that
the sun’s rays penetrate more freely among the trees.
The ground at the foot of the eucalypti was carpeted with grass, and
from the bushes escaped flights of little birds, which glittered in the
sunlight like winged rubies.
“These are something like trees!” cried Neb; “but are they good for
anything?”
“Pooh!” replied Pencroft. “Of course there are vegetable giants as well
as human giants, and they are no good, except to show themselves at
fairs!”
“I think that you are mistaken, Pencroft,” replied Gideon Spilett, “and
that the wood of the eucalyptus has begun to be very advantageously
employed in cabinet-making.”
“And I may add,” said Herbert, “that the eucalyptus belongs to a family
which comprises many useful members; the guava-tree, from whose fruit
guava jelly is made; the clove-tree, which produces the spice; the
pomegranate-tree, which bears pomegranates; the Eugeacia Cauliflora,
the fruit of which is used in making a tolerable wine; the Ugui myrtle,
which contains an excellent alcoholic liquor; the Caryophyllus myrtle,
of which the bark forms an esteemed cinnamon; the Eugenia Pimenta, from
whence comes Jamaica pepper; the common myrtle, from whose buds and
berries spice is sometimes made; the Eucalyptus manifera, which yields
a sweet sort of manna; the Guinea Eucalyptus, the sap of which is
transformed into beer by fermentation; in short, all those trees known
under the name of gum-trees or iron-bark trees in Australia, belong
to this family of the myrtaceae, which contains forty-six genera and
thirteen hundred species!”
The lad was allowed to run on, and he delivered his little botanical
lecture with great animation. Cyrus Harding listened smiling, and
Pencroft with an indescribable feeling of pride.
“Very good, Herbert,” replied Pencroft, “but I could swear that all
those useful specimens you have just told us about are none of them
giants like these!”
“That is true, Pencroft.”
“That supports what I said,” returned the sailor, “namely, that these
giants are good for nothing!”
“There you are wrong, Pencroft,” said the engineer; “these gigantic
eucalypti, which shelter us, are good for something.”
“And what is that?”
“To render the countries which they inhabit healthy. Do you know what
they are called in Australia and New Zealand?”
“No, captain.”
“They are called ‘fever trees.’”
“Because they give fevers?”
“No, because they prevent them!”
“Good. I must note that,” said the reporter.
“Note it then, my dear Spilett; for it appears proved that the presence
of the eucalyptus is enough to neutralize miasmas. This natural antidote
has been tried in certain countries in the middle of Europe and the
north of Africa where the soil was absolutely unhealthy, and the
sanitary condition of the inhabitants has been gradually ameliorated. No
more intermittent fevers prevail in the regions now covered with forests
of the myrtaceae. This fact is now beyond doubt, and it is a happy
circumstance for us settlers in Lincoln Island.”
“Ah! what an island! What a blessed island!” cried Pencroft. “I tell
you, it wants nothing--unless it is--”
“That will come, Pencroft, that will be found,” replied the engineer;
“but now we must continue our voyage and push on as far as the river
will carry our boat!”
The exploration was therefore continued for another two miles in the
midst of country covered with eucalypti, which predominated in the woods
of this portion of the island. The space which they occupied extended as
far as the eye could reach on each side of the Mercy, which wound along
between high green banks. The bed was often obstructed by long weeds,
and even by pointed rocks, which rendered the navigation very difficult.
The action of the oars was prevented, and Pencroft was obliged to push
with a pole. They found also that the water was becoming shallower
and shallower, and that the canoe must soon stop. The sun was already
sinking towards the horizon, and the trees threw long shadows on the
ground. Cyrus Harding, seeing that he could not hope to reach the
western coast of the island in one journey, resolved to camp at the
place where any further navigation was prevented by want of water. He
calculated that they were still five or six miles from the coast, and
this distance was too great for them to attempt during the night in the
midst of unknown woods.
The boat was pushed on through the forest, which gradually became
thicker again, and appeared also to have more inhabitants; for if the
eyes of the sailor did not deceive him, he thought he saw bands of
monkeys springing among the trees. Sometimes even two or three of these
animals stopped at a little distance from the canoe and gazed at the
settlers without manifesting any terror, as if, seeing men for the first
time, they had not yet learned to fear them. It would have been easy
to bring down one of these quadramani with a gunshot, and Pencroft was
greatly tempted to fire, but Harding opposed so useless a massacre.
This was prudent, for the monkeys, or apes rather, appearing to be very
powerful and extremely active, it was useless to provoke an unnecessary
aggression, and the creatures might, ignorant of the power of the
explorers’ firearms, have attacked them. It is true that the sailor
considered the monkeys from a purely alimentary point of view, for those
animals which are herbivorous make very excellent game; but since they
had an abundant supply of provisions, it was a pity to waste their
ammunition.
Towards four o’clock, the navigation of the Mercy became exceedingly
difficult, for its course was obstructed by aquatic plants and rocks.
The banks rose higher and higher, and already they were approaching the
spurs of Mount Franklin. The source could not be far off, since it was
fed by the water from the southern slopes of the mountain.
“In a quarter of an hour,” said the sailor, “we shall be obliged to
stop, captain.”
“Very well, we will stop, Pencroft, and we will make our encampment for
the night.”
“At what distance are we from Granite House?” asked Herbert.
“About seven miles,” replied the engineer, “taking into calculation,
however, the detours of the river, which has carried us to the
northwest.”
“Shall we go on?” asked the reporter.
“Yes, as long as we can,” replied Cyrus Harding. “To-morrow, at break of
day, we will leave the canoe, and in two hours I hope we shall cross the
distance which separates us from the coast, and then we shall have the
whole day in which to explore the shore.”
“Go ahead!” replied Pencroft.
But soon the boat grated on the stony bottom of the river, which was
now not more than twenty feet in breadth. The trees met like a bower
overhead, and caused a half-darkness. They also heard the noise of a
waterfall, which showed that a few hundred feet up the river there was a
natural barrier.
Presently, after a sudden turn of the river, a cascade appeared through
the trees. The canoe again touched the bottom, and in a few minutes it
was moored to a trunk near the right bank.
It was nearly five o’clock. The last rays of the sun gleamed through
the thick foliage and glanced on the little waterfall, making the spray
sparkle with all the colors of the rainbow. Beyond that, the Mercy was
lost in the bushwood, where it was fed from some hidden source. The
different streams which flowed into it increased it to a regular river
further down, but here it was simply a shallow, limpid brook.
It was agreed to camp here, as the place was charming. The colonists
disembarked, and a fire was soon lighted under a clump of trees, among
the branches of which Cyrus Harding and his companions could, if it was
necessary, take refuge for the night.
Supper was quickly devoured, for they were very hungry, and then there
was only sleeping to think of. But, as roarings of rather a suspicious
nature had been heard during the evening, a good fire was made up for
the night, so as to protect the sleepers with its crackling flames. Neb
and Pencroft also watched by turns, and did not spare fuel. They thought
they saw the dark forms of some wild animals prowling round the camp
among the bushes, but the night passed without incident, and the next
day, the 31st of October, at five o’clock in the morning, all were on
foot, ready for a start.
Chapter 4
It was six o’ clock in the morning when the settlers, after a hasty
breakfast, set out to reach by the shortest way, the western coast of
the island. And how long would it take to do this? Cyrus Harding
had said two hours, but of course that depended on the nature of the
obstacles they might meet with. As it was probable that they would have
to cut a path through the grass, shrubs, and creepers, they marched axe
in hand, and with guns also ready, wisely taking warning from the cries
of the wild beasts heard in the night.
The exact position of the encampment could be determined by the bearing
of Mount Franklin, and as the volcano arose in the north at a distance
of less than three miles, they had only to go straight towards the
southwest to reach the western coast. They set out, having first
carefully secured the canoe. Pencroft and Neb carried sufficient
provision for the little band for at least two days. It would not thus
be necessary to hunt. The engineer advised his companions to refrain
from firing, that their presence might not be betrayed to any one near
the shore. The first hatchet blows were given among the brushwood in the
midst of some mastic-trees, a little above the cascade; and his compass
in his hand, Cyrus Harding led the way.
The forest here was composed for the most part of trees which had
already been met with near the lake and on Prospect Heights. There
were deodars, Douglas firs, casuarinas, gum trees, eucalypti, hibiscus,
cedars, and other trees, generally of a moderate size, for their number
prevented their growth.
Since their departure, the settlers had descended the slopes which
constituted the mountain system of the island, on to a dry soil, but the
luxuriant vegetation of which indicated it to be watered either by some
subterranean marsh or by some stream. However, Cyrus Harding did not
remember having seen, at the time of his excursion to the crater, any
other watercourses but the Red Creek and the Mercy.
During the first part of their excursion, they saw numerous troops of
monkeys who exhibited great astonishment at the sight of men, whose
appearance was so new to them. Gideon Spilett jokingly asked whether
these active and merry quadrupeds did not consider him and his
companions as degenerate brothers.
And certainly, pedestrians, hindered at each step by bushes, caught by
creepers, barred by trunks of trees, did not shine beside those supple
animals, who, bounding from branch to branch, were hindered by nothing
on their course. The monkeys were numerous, but happily they did not
manifest any hostile disposition.
Several pigs, agoutis, kangaroos, and other rodents were seen, also two
or three koalas, at which Pencroft longed to have a shot.
“But,” said he, “you may jump and play just now; we shall have one or
two words to say to you on our way back!”
At half-past nine the way was suddenly found to be barred by an unknown
stream, from thirty to forty feet broad, whose rapid current dashed
foaming over the numerous rocks which interrupted its course. This creek
was deep and clear, but it was absolutely unnavigable.
“We are cut off!” cried Neb.
“No,” replied Herbert, “it is only a stream, and we can easily swim
over.”
“What would be the use of that?” returned Harding. “This creek evidently
runs to the sea. Let us remain on this side and follow the bank, and
I shall be much astonished if it does not lead us very quickly to the
coast. Forward!”
“One minute,” said the reporter. “The name of this creek, my friends? Do
not let us leave our geography incomplete.”
“All right!” said Pencroft.
“Name it, my boy,” said the engineer, addressing the lad.
“Will it not be better to wait until we have explored it to its mouth?”
answered Herbert.
“Very well,” replied Cyrus Harding. “Let us follow it as fast as we can
without stopping.”
“Still another minute!” said Pencroft.
“What’s the matter?” asked the reporter.
“Though hunting is forbidden, fishing is allowed, I suppose,” said the
sailor.
“We have no time to lose,” replied the engineer.
“Oh! five minutes!” replied Pencroft, “I only ask for five minutes to
use in the interest of our breakfast!”
And Pencroft, lying down on the bank, plunged his arm into the water,
and soon pulled up several dozen of fine crayfish from among the stones.
“These will be good!” cried Neb, going to the sailor’s aid.
“As I said, there is everything in this island, except tobacco!”
muttered Pencroft with a sigh.
The fishing did not take five minutes, for the crayfish were swarming in
the creek. A bag was filled with the crustaceae, whose shells were of a
cobalt blue. The settlers then pushed on.
They advanced more rapidly and easily along the bank of the river than
in the forest. From time to time they came upon the traces of animals of
a large size who had come to quench their thirst at the stream, but none
were actually seen, and it was evidently not in this part of the forest
that the peccary had received the bullet which had cost Pencroft a
grinder.
In the meanwhile, considering the rapid current, Harding was led to
suppose that he and his companions were much farther from the western
coast than they had at first supposed. In fact, at this hour, the rising
tide would have turned back the current of the creek, if its mouth had
only been a few miles distant. Now, this effect was not produced, and
the water pursued its natural course. The engineer was much astonished
at this, and frequently consulted his compass, to assure himself that
some turn of the river was not leading them again into the Far West.
However, the creek gradually widened and its waters became less
tumultuous. The trees on the right bank were as close together as on the
left bank, and it was impossible to distinguish anything beyond them;
but these masses of wood were evidently uninhabited, for Top did not
bark, and the intelligent animal would not have failed to signal the
presence of any stranger in the neighborhood.
At half-past ten, to the great surprise of Cyrus Harding, Herbert, who
was a little in front, suddenly stopped and exclaimed,--
“The sea!”
In a few minutes more, the whole western shore of the island lay
extended before the eyes of the settlers.
But what a contrast between this and the eastern coast, upon which
chance had first thrown them. No granite cliff, no rocks, not even a
sandy beach. The forest reached the shore, and the tall trees bending
over the water were beaten by the waves. It was not such a shore as is
usually formed by nature, either by extending a vast carpet of sand,
or by grouping masses of rock, but a beautiful border consisting of the
most splendid trees. The bank was raised a little above the level of the
sea, and on this luxuriant soil, supported by a granite base, the fine
forest trees seemed to be as firmly planted as in the interior of the
island.
The colonists were then on the shore of an unimportant little harbor,
which would scarcely have contained even two or three fishing-boats. It
served as a neck to the new creek, of which the curious thing was that
its waters, instead of joining the sea by a gentle slope, fell from a
height of more than forty feet, which explained why the rising tide was
not felt up the stream. In fact, the tides of the Pacific, even at
their maximum elevation, could never reach the level of the river, and,
doubtless, millions of years would pass before the water would have worn
away the granite and hollowed a practicable mouth.
It was settled that the name of Falls River should be given to this
stream. Beyond, towards the north, the forest border was prolonged for
a space of nearly two miles; then the trees became scarcer, and beyond
that again the picturesque heights described a nearly straight line,
which ran north and south. On the contrary, all the part of the shore
between Falls River and Reptile End was a mass of wood, magnificent
trees, some straight, others bent, so that the long sea-swell bathed
their roots. Now, it was this coast, that is, all the Serpentine
Peninsula, that was to be explored, for this part of the shore offered
a refuge to castaways, which the other wild and barren side must have
refused.
The weather was fine and clear, and from a height of a hillock on which
Neb and Pencroft had arranged breakfast, a wide view was obtained. There
was, however, not a sail in sight; nothing could be seen along the shore
as far as the eye could reach. But the engineer would take nothing for
granted until he had explored the coast to the very extremity of the
Serpentine Peninsula.
Breakfast was soon despatched, and at half-past eleven the captain gave
the signal for departure. Instead of proceeding over the summit of a
cliff or along a sandy beach, the settlers were obliged to remain under
cover of the trees so that they might continue on the shore.
The distance which separated Falls River from Reptile End was about
twelve miles. It would have taken the settlers four hours to do this,
on a clear ground and without hurrying themselves; but as it was they
needed double the time, for what with trees to go round, bushes to cut
down, and creepers to chop away, they were impeded at every step, these
obstacles greatly lengthening their journey.
There was, however, nothing to show that a shipwreck had taken place
recently. It is true that, as Gideon Spilett observed, any remains of
it might have drifted out to sea, and they must not take it for granted
that because they could find no traces of it, a ship had not been
castaway on the coast.
The reporter’s argument was just, and besides, the incident of the
bullet proved that a shot must have been fired in Lincoln Island within
three months.
It was already five o’clock, and there were still two miles between the
settlers and the extremity of the Serpentine Peninsula. It was evident
that after having reached Reptile End, Harding and his companions would
not have time to return before dark to their encampment near the source
of the Mercy. It would therefore be necessary to pass the night on the
promontory. But they had no lack of provisions, which was lucky, for
there were no animals on the shore, though birds, on the contrary,
abound--jacamars, couroucous, tragopans, grouse, lories, parrots,
cockatoos, pheasants, pigeons, and a hundred others. There was not
a tree without a nest, and not a nest which was not full of flapping
wings.
Towards seven o’clock the weary explorers arrived at Reptile End. Here
the seaside forest ended, and the shore resumed the customary appearance
of a coast, with rocks, reefs, and sands. It was possible that something
might be found here, but darkness came on, and the further exploration
had to be put off to the next day.
Pencroft and Herbert hastened on to find a suitable place for their
camp. Among the last trees of the forest of the Far West, the boy found
several thick clumps of bamboos.
“Good,” said he; “this is a valuable discovery.”
“Valuable?” returned Pencroft.
“Certainly,” replied Herbert. “I may say, Pencroft, that the bark of the
bamboo, cut into flexible laths, is used for making baskets; that this
bark, mashed into a paste, is used for the manufacture of Chinese paper;
that the stalks furnish, according to their size, canes and pipes
and are used for conducting water; that large bamboos make excellent
material for building, being light and strong, and being never attacked
by insects. I will add that by sawing the bamboo in two at the joint,
keeping for the bottom the part of the transverse film which forms
the joint, useful cups are obtained, which are much in use among the
Chinese. No! you don’t care for that. But--”
“But what?”
“But I can tell you, if you are ignorant of it, that in India these
bamboos are eaten like asparagus.”
“Asparagus thirty feet high!” exclaimed the sailor. “And are they good?”
“Excellent,” replied Herbert. “Only it is not the stems of thirty feet
high which are eaten, but the young shoots.”
“Perfect, my boy, perfect!” replied Pencroft.
“I will also add that the pith of the young stalks, preserved in
vinegar, makes a good pickle.”
“Better and better, Herbert!”
“And lastly, that the bamboos exude a sweet liquor which can be made
into a very agreeable drink.”
“Is that all?” asked the sailor.
“That is all!”
“And they don’t happen to do for smoking?”
“No, my poor Pencroft.”
Herbert and the sailor had not to look long for a place in which to pass
the night. The rocks, which must have been violently beaten by the
sea under the influence of the winds of the southwest, presented many
cavities in which shelter could be found against the night air. But just
as they were about to enter one of these caves a loud roaring arrested
them.
“Back!” cried Pencroft. “Our guns are only loaded with small shot, and
beasts which can roar as loud as that would care no more for it than for
grains of salt!” And the sailor, seizing Herbert by the arm, dragged
him behind a rock, just as a magnificent animal showed itself at the
entrance of the cavern.
It was a jaguar of a size at least equal to its Asiatic congeners, that
is to say, it measured five feet from the extremity of its head to the
beginning of its tail. The yellow color of its hair was relieved by
streaks and regular oblong spots of black, which contrasted with the
white of its chest. Herbert recognized it as the ferocious rival of
the tiger, as formidable as the puma, which is the rival of the largest
wolf!
The jaguar advanced and gazed around him with blazing eyes, his hair
bristling as if this was not the first time he had scented men.
At this moment the reporter appeared round a rock, and Herbert, thinking
that he had not seen the jaguar, was about to rush towards him, when
Gideon Spilett signed to him to remain where he was. This was not his
first tiger, and advancing to within ten feet of the animal he remained
motionless, his gun to his shoulder, without moving a muscle. The jaguar
collected itself for a spring, but at that moment a shot struck it in
the eyes, and it fell dead.
Herbert and Pencroft rushed towards the jaguar. Neb and Harding also ran
up, and they remained for some instants contemplating the animal as it
lay stretched on the ground, thinking that its magnificent skin would be
a great ornament to the hall at Granite House.
“Oh, Mr. Spilett, how I admire and envy you!” cried Herbert, in a fit of
very natural enthusiasm.
“Well, my boy,” replied the reporter, “you could have done the same.”
“I! with such coolness!--”
“Imagine to yourself, Herbert, that the jaguar is only a hare, and you
would fire as quietly as possible.”
“That is,” rejoined Pencroft, “that it is not more dangerous than a
hare!”
“And now,” said Gideon Spilett, “since the jaguar has left its abode, I
do not see, my friends, why we should not take possession of it for the
night.”
“But others may come,” said Pencroft.
“It will be enough to light a fire at the entrance of the cavern,” said
the reporter, “and no wild beasts will dare to cross the threshold.”
“Into the jaguar’s house, then!” replied the sailor, dragging after him
the body of the animal.
While Neb skinned the jaguar, his companions collected an abundant
supply of dry wood from the forest, which they heaped up at the cave.
Cyrus Harding, seeing the clump of bamboos, cut a quantity, which he
mingled with the other fuel.
This done, they entered the grotto, of which the floor was strewn with
bones, the guns were carefully loaded, in case of a sudden attack, they
had supper, and then just before they lay down to rest, the heap of wood
piled at the entrance was set fire to. Immediately, a regular explosion,
or rather a series of reports, broke the silence! The noise was caused
by the bamboos, which, as the flames reached them, exploded like
fireworks. The noise was enough to terrify even the boldest of wild
beasts.
It was not the engineer who had invented this way of causing loud
explosions, for, according to Marco Polo, the Tartars have employed it
for many centuries to drive away from their encampments the formidable
wild beasts of Central Asia.
Chapter 5
Cyrus Harding and his companions slept like innocent marmots in the cave
which the jaguar had so politely left at their disposal.
At sunrise all were on the shore at the extremity of the promontory, and
their gaze was directed towards the horizon, of which two-thirds of
the circumference were visible. For the last time the engineer could
ascertain that not a sail nor the wreck of a ship was on the sea, and
even with the telescope nothing suspicious could be discovered.
There was nothing either on the shore, at least, in the straight line
of three miles which formed the south side of the promontory, for
beyond that, rising ground had the rest of the coast, and even from the
extremity of the Serpentine Peninsula Claw Cape could not be seen.
The southern coast of the island still remained to be explored. Now
should they undertake it immediately, and devote this day to it?
This was not included in their first plan. In fact, when the boat was
abandoned at the sources of the Mercy, it had been agreed that after
having surveyed the west coast, they should go back to it, and return to
Granite House by the Mercy. Harding then thought that the western coast
would have offered refuge, either to a ship in distress, or to a vessel
in her regular course; but now, as he saw that this coast presented no
good anchorage, he wished to seek on the south what they had not been
able to find on the west.
Gideon Spilett proposed to continue the exploration, that the question
of the supposed wreck might be completely settled, and he asked at what
distance Claw Cape might be from the extremity of the peninsula.
“About thirty miles,” replied the engineer, “if we take into
consideration the curvings of the coast.”
“Thirty miles!” returned Spilett. “That would be a long day’s march.
Nevertheless, I think that we should return to Granite House by the
south coast.”
“But,” observed Herbert, “from Claw Cape to Granite House there must be
at least another ten miles.
“Make it forty miles in all,” replied the engineer, “and do not hesitate
to do it. At least we should survey the unknown shore, and then we shall
not have to begin the exploration again.”
“Very good,” said Pencroft. “But the boat?”
“The boat has remained by itself for one day at the sources of the
Mercy,” replied Gideon Spilett; “it may just as well stay there two
days! As yet, we have had no reason to think that the island is infested
by thieves!”
“Yet,” said the sailor, “when I remember the history of the turtle, I am
far from confident of that.”
“The turtle! the turtle!” replied the reporter. “Don’t you know that the
sea turned it over?”
“Who knows?” murmured the engineer.
“But,--” said Neb.
Neb had evidently something to say, for he opened his mouth to speak and
yet said nothing.
“What do you want to say, Neb?” asked the engineer.
“If we return by the shore to Claw Cape,” replied Neb, “after having
doubled the Cape, we shall be stopped--”
“By the Mercy! of course,” replied Herbert, “and we shall have neither
bridge nor boat by which to cross.”
“But, captain,” added Pencroft, “with a few floating trunks we shall
have no difficulty in crossing the river.”
“Never mind,” said Spilett, “it will be useful to construct a bridge if
we wish to have an easy access to the Far West!”
“A bridge!” cried Pencroft. “Well, is not the captain the best engineer
in his profession? He will make us a bridge when we want one. As to
transporting you this evening to the other side of the Mercy, and that
without wetting one thread of your clothes, I will take care of that. We
have provisions for another day, and besides we can get plenty of game.
Forward!”
The reporter’s proposal, so strongly seconded by the sailor, received
general approbation, for each wished to have their doubts set at rest,
and by returning by Claw Cape the exploration would be ended. But there
was not an hour to lose, for forty miles was a long march, and they
could not hope to reach Granite House before night.
At six o’clock in the morning the little band set out. As a precaution
the guns were loaded with ball, and Top, who led the van, received
orders to beat about the edge of the forest.
From the extremity of the promontory which formed the tail of the
peninsula the coast was rounded for a distance of five miles, which
was rapidly passed over, without even the most minute investigations
bringing to light the least trace of any old or recent landings; no
debris, no mark of an encampment, no cinders of a fire, nor even a
footprint!
From the point of the peninsula on which the settlers now were their
gaze could extend along the southwest. Twenty-five miles off the coast
terminated in the Claw Cape, which loomed dimly through the morning
mists, and which, by the phenomenon of the mirage, appeared as if
suspended between land and water.
Between the place occupied by the colonists and the other side of the
immense bay, the shore was composed, first, of a tract of low land,
bordered in the background by trees; then the shore became more
irregular, projecting sharp points into the sea, and finally ended in
the black rocks which, accumulated in picturesque disorder, formed Claw
Cape.
Such was the development of this part of the island, which the settlers
took in at a glance, while stopping for an instant.
“If a vessel ran in here,” said Pencroft, “she would certainly be lost.
Sandbanks and reefs everywhere! Bad quarters!”
“But at least something would be left of the ship,” observed the
reporter.
“There might be pieces of wood on the rocks, but nothing on the sands,”
replied the sailor.
“Why?”
“Because the sands are still more dangerous than the rocks, for they
swallow up everything that is thrown on them. In a few days the hull of
a ship of several hundred tons would disappear entirely in there!”
“So, Pencroft,” asked the engineer, “if a ship has been wrecked on
these banks, is it not astonishing that there is now no trace of her
remaining?”
“No, captain, with the aid of time and tempest. However, it would be
surprising, even in this case, that some of the masts or spars should
not have been thrown on the beach, out of reach of the waves.”
“Let us go on with our search, then,” returned Cyrus Harding.
At one o’clock the colonists arrived at the other side of Washington
Bay, they having now gone a distance of twenty miles.
They then halted for breakfast.
Here began the irregular coast, covered with lines of rocks and
sandbanks. The long sea-swell could be seen breaking over the rocks in
the bay, forming a foamy fringe. From this point to Claw Cape the beach
was very narrow between the edge of the forest and the reefs.
Walking was now more difficult, on account of the numerous rocks which
encumbered the beach. The granite cliff also gradually increased in
height, and only the green tops of the trees which crowned it could be
seen.
After half an hour’s rest, the settlers resumed their journey, and not
a spot among the rocks was left unexamined. Pencroft and Neb even rushed
into the surf whenever any object attracted their attention. But they
found nothing, some curious formations of the rocks having deceived
them. They ascertained, however, that eatable shellfish abounded there,
but these could not be of any great advantage to them until some easy
means of communication had been established between the two banks of the
Mercy, and until the means of transport had been perfected.
Nothing therefore which threw any light on the supposed wreck could be
found on this shore, yet an object of any importance, such as the hull
of a ship, would have been seen directly, or any of her masts and spars
would have been washed on shore, just as the chest had been, which was
found twenty miles from here. But there was nothing.
Towards three o’clock Harding and his companions arrived at a snug
little creek. It formed quite a natural harbor, invisible from the sea,
and was entered by a narrow channel.
At the back of this creek some violent convulsion had torn up the
rocky border, and a cutting, by a gentle slope, gave access to an upper
plateau, which might be situated at least ten miles from Claw Cape, and
consequently four miles in a straight line from Prospect Heights. Gideon
Spilett proposed to his companions that they should make a halt here.
They agreed readily, for their walk had sharpened their appetites;
and although it was not their usual dinner-hour, no one refused to
strengthen himself with a piece of venison. This luncheon would sustain
them until their supper, which they intended to take at Granite House.
In a few minutes the settlers, seated under a clump of fine sea-pines,
were devouring the provisions which Neb produced from his bag.
This spot was raised from fifty to sixty feet above the level of the
sea. The view was very extensive, but beyond the cape it ended in Union
Bay. Neither the islet nor Prospect Heights was visible, and could not
be from thence, for the rising ground and the curtain of trees closed
the northern horizon.
It is useless to add that notwithstanding the wide extent of sea which
the explorers could survey, and though the engineer swept the horizon
with his glass, no vessel could be found.
The shore was of course examined with the same care from the edge of the
water to the cliff, and nothing could be discovered even with the aid of
the instrument.
“Well,” said Gideon Spilett, “it seems we must make up our minds to
console ourselves with thinking that no one will come to dispute with us
the possession of Lincoln Island!”
“But the bullet,” cried Herbert. “That was not imaginary, I suppose!”
“Hang it, no!” exclaimed Pencroft, thinking of his absent tooth.
“Then what conclusion may be drawn?” asked the reporter.
“This,” replied the engineer, “that three months or more ago, a vessel,
either voluntarily or not, came here.”
“What! then you admit, Cyrus, that she was swallowed up without leaving
any trace?” cried the reporter.
“No, my dear Spilett; but you see that if it is certain that a human
being set foot on the island, it appears no less certain that he has now
left it.”
“Then, if I understand you right, captain,” said Herbert, “the vessel
has left again?”
“Evidently.”
“And we have lost an opportunity to get back to our country?” said Neb.
“I fear so.”
“Very well, since the opportunity is lost, let us go on; it can’t be
helped,” said Pencroft, who felt home-sickness for Granite House.
But just as they were rising, Top was heard loudly barking; and the dog
issued from the wood, holding in his mouth a rag soiled with mud.
Neb seized it. It was a piece of strong cloth!
Top still barked, and by his going and coming, seemed to invite his
master to follow him into the forest.
“Now there’s something to explain the bullet!” exclaimed Pencroft.
“A castaway!” replied Herbert.
“Wounded, perhaps!” said Neb.
“Or dead!” added the reporter.
All ran after the dog, among the tall pines on the border of the forest.
Harding and his companions made ready their firearms, in case of an
emergency.
They advanced some way into the wood, but to their great disappointment,
they as yet saw no signs of any human being having passed that way.
Shrubs and creepers were uninjured, and they had even to cut them away
with the axe, as they had done in the deepest recesses of the forest.
It was difficult to fancy that any human creature had ever passed there,
but yet Top went backward and forward, not like a dog who searches at
random, but like a dog being endowed with a mind, who is following up an
idea.
In about seven or eight minutes Top stopped in a glade surrounded with
tall trees. The settlers gazed around them, but saw nothing, neither
under the bushes nor among the trees.
“What is the matter, Top?” said Cyrus Harding.
Top barked louder, bounding about at the foot of a gigantic pine. All at
once Pencroft shouted,--“Ho, splendid! capital!”
“What is it?” asked Spilett.
“We have been looking for a wreck at sea or on land!”
“Well?”
“Well; and here we’ve found one in the air!”
And the sailor pointed to a great white rag, caught in the top of the
pine, a fallen scrap of which the dog had brought to them.
“But that is not a wreck!” cried Gideon Spilett.
“I beg your pardon!” returned Pencroft.
“Why? is it--?”
“It is all that remains of our airy boat, of our balloon, which has been
caught up aloft there, at the top of that tree!”
Pencroft was not mistaken, and he gave vent to his feelings in a
tremendous hurrah, adding,--
“There is good cloth! There is what will furnish us with linen for
years. There is what will make us handkerchiefs and shirts! Ha, ha, Mr.
Spilett, what do you say to an island where shirts grow on the trees?”
It was certainly a lucky circumstance for the settlers in Lincoln Island
that the balloon, after having made its last bound into the air, had
fallen on the island and thus given them the opportunity of finding it
again, whether they kept the case under its present form, or whether
they wished to attempt another escape by it, or whether they usefully
employed the several hundred yards of cotton, which was of fine quality.
Pencroft’s joy was therefore shared by all.
But it was necessary to bring down the remains of the balloon from
the tree, to place it in security, and this was no slight task. Neb,
Herbert, and the sailor, climbing to the summit of the tree, used all
their skill to disengage the now reduced balloon.
The operation lasted two hours, and then not only the case, with its
valve, its springs, its brasswork, lay on the ground, but the net, that
is to say a considerable quantity of ropes and cordage, and the
circle and the anchor. The case, except for the fracture, was in good
condition, only the lower portion being torn.
It was a fortune which had fallen from the sky.
“All the same, captain,” said the sailor, “if we ever decide to leave
the island, it won’t be in a balloon, will it? These airboats won’t go
where we want them to go, and we have had some experience in that way!
Look here, we will build a craft of some twenty tons, and then we can
make a main-sail, a foresail, and a jib out of that cloth. As to the
rest of it, that will help to dress us.”
“We shall see, Pencroft,” replied Cyrus Harding; “we shall see.”
“In the meantime, we must put it in a safe place,” said Neb.