They certainly could not think of carrying this load of cloth,

ropes, and cordage, to Granite House, for the weight of it was very

considerable, and while waiting for a suitable vehicle in which to

convey it, it was of importance that this treasure should not be left

longer exposed to the mercies of the first storm. The settlers, uniting

their efforts, managed to drag it as far as the shore, where they

discovered a large rocky cavity, which owing to its position could not

be visited either by the wind or rain.

“We needed a locker, and now we have one,” said Pencroft; “but as we

cannot lock it up, it will be prudent to hide the opening. I don’t mean

from two-legged thieves, but from those with four paws!”

At six o’clock, all was stowed away, and after having given the creek

the very suitable name of “Port Balloon,” the settlers pursued their

way along Claw Cape. Pencroft and the engineer talked of the different

projects which it was agreed to put into execution with the briefest

possible delay. It was necessary first of all to throw a bridge over the

Mercy, so as to establish an easy communication with the south of the

island; then the cart must be taken to bring back the balloon, for the

canoe alone could not carry it, then they would build a decked boat, and

Pencroft would rig it as a cutter, and they would be able to undertake

voyages of circumnavigation round the island, etc.

In the meanwhile night came on, and it was already dark when the

settlers reached Flotsam Point, where they had found the precious chest.

The distance between Flotsam Point and Granite House was another four

miles, and it was midnight when, after having followed the shore to the

mouth of the Mercy, the settlers arrived at the first angle formed by

the Mercy.

There the river was eighty feet in breadth, which was awkward to cross,

but as Pencroft had taken upon himself to conquer this difficulty, he

was compelled to do it. The settlers certainly had reason to be pretty

tired. The journey had been long, and the task of getting down the

balloon had not rested either their arms or legs. They were anxious

to reach Granite House to eat and sleep, and if the bridge had been

constructed, in a quarter of an hour they would have been at home.

The night was very dark. Pencroft prepared to keep his promise by

constructing a sort of raft, on which to make the passage of the Mercy.

He and Neb, armed with axes, chose two trees near the water, and began

to attack them at the base.

Cyrus Harding and Spilett, seated on the bank, waited till their

companions were ready for their help, while Herbert roamed about, though

without going to any distance. All at once, the lad, who had strolled by

the river, came running back, and, pointing up the Mercy, exclaimed,--

“What is floating there?”

Pencroft stopped working, and seeing an indistinct object moving through

the gloom,--

“A canoe!” cried he.

All approached, and saw to their extreme surprise, a boat floating down

the current.

“Boat ahoy!” shouted the sailor, without thinking that perhaps it would

be best to keep silence.

No reply. The boat still drifted onward, and it was not more than twelve

feet off, when the sailor exclaimed,--

“But it is our own boat! she has broken her moorings, and floated down

the current. I must say she has arrived very opportunely.”

“Our boat?” murmured the engineer.

Pencroft was right. It was indeed the canoe, of which the rope had

undoubtedly broken, and which had come alone from the sources of the

Mercy. It was very important to seize it before the rapid current should

have swept it away out of the mouth of the river, but Neb and Pencroft

cleverly managed this by means of a long pole.

The canoe touched the shore. The engineer leaped in first, and found,

on examining the rope, that it had been really worn through by rubbing

against the rocks.

“Well,” said the reporter to him, in a low voice, “this is a strange

thing.”

“Strange indeed!” returned Cyrus Harding.

Strange or not, it was very fortunate. Herbert, the reporter, Neb, and

Pencroft, embarked in turn. There was no doubt about the rope having

been worn through, but the astonishing part of the affair was, that the

boat should arrive just at the moment when the settlers were there to

seize it on its way, for a quarter of an hour earlier or later it would

have been lost in the sea.

If they had been living in the time of genii, this incident would

have given them the right to think that the island was haunted by some

supernatural being, who used his power in the service of the castaways!

A few strokes of the oar brought the settlers to the mouth of the

Mercy. The canoe was hauled up on the beach near the Chimneys, and all

proceeded towards the ladder of Granite House.

But at that moment, Top barked angrily, and Neb, who was looking for the

first steps, uttered a cry.

There was no longer a ladder!

Chapter 6

Cyrus Harding stood still, without saying a word. His companions

searched in the darkness on the wall, in case the wind should have

moved the ladder, and on the ground, thinking that it might have fallen

down.... But the ladder had quite disappeared. As to ascertaining if

a squall had blown it on the landing-place, half way up, that was

impossible in the dark.

“If it is a joke,” cried Pencroft, “it is a very stupid one! To come

home and find no staircase to go up to your room by--that’s nothing for

weary men to laugh at.”

Neb could do nothing but cry out “Oh! oh! oh!”

“I begin to think that very curious things happen in Lincoln Island!”

said Pencroft.

“Curious?” replied Gideon Spilett, “not at all, Pencroft, nothing can be

more natural. Some one has come during our absence, taken possession of

our dwelling and drawn up the ladder.”

“Some one,” cried the sailor. “But who?”

“Who but the hunter who fired the bullet?” replied the reporter.

“Well, if there is any one up there,” replied Pencroft, who began to

lose patience, “I will give them a hail, and they must answer.”

And in a stentorian voice the sailor gave a prolonged “Halloo!” which

was echoed again and again from the cliff and rocks.

The settlers listened and they thought they heard a sort of chuckling

laugh, of which they could not guess the origin. But no voice replied to

Pencroft, who in vain repeated his vigorous shouts.

There was something indeed in this to astonish the most apathetic

of men, and the settlers were not men of that description. In their

situation every incident had its importance, and, certainly, during the

seven months which they had spent on the island, they had not before met

with anything of so surprising a character.

Be that as it may, forgetting their fatigue in the singularity of the

event, they remained below Granite House, not knowing what to think,

not knowing what to do, questioning each other without any hope of

a satisfactory reply, every one starting some supposition each more

unlikely than the last. Neb bewailed himself, much disappointed at not

being able to get into his kitchen, for the provisions which they

had had on their expedition were exhausted, and they had no means of

renewing them.

“My friends,” at last said Cyrus Harding, “there is only one thing to be

done at present; wait for day, and then act according to circumstances.

But let us go to the Chimneys. There we shall be under shelter, and if

we cannot eat, we can at least sleep.”

“But who is it that has played us this cool trick?” again asked

Pencroft, unable to make up his mind to retire from the spot.

Whoever it was, the only thing practicable was to do as the engineer

proposed, to go to the Chimneys and there wait for day. In the meanwhile

Top was ordered to mount guard below the windows of Granite House, and

when Top received an order he obeyed it without any questioning. The

brave dog therefore remained at the foot of the cliff while his master

with his companions sought a refuge among the rocks.

To say that the settlers, notwithstanding their fatigue, slept well on

the sandy floor of the Chimneys would not be true. It was not only that

they were extremely anxious to find out the cause of what had happened,

whether it was the result of an accident which would be discovered at

the return of day, or whether on the contrary it was the work of a human

being; but they also had very uncomfortable beds. That could not be

helped, however, for in some way or other at that moment their dwelling

was occupied, and they could not possibly enter it.

Now Granite House was more than their dwelling, it was their warehouse.

There were all the stores belonging to the colony, weapons, instruments,

tools, ammunition, provisions, etc. To think that all that might be

pillaged and that the settlers would have all their work to do over

again, fresh weapons and tools to make, was a serious matter. Their

uneasiness led one or other of them also to go out every few minutes to

see if Top was keeping good watch. Cyrus Harding alone waited with his

habitual patience, although his strong mind was exasperated at being

confronted with such an inexplicable fact, and he was provoked at

himself for allowing a feeling to which he could not give a name, to

gain an influence over him. Gideon Spilett shared his feelings in this

respect, and the two conversed together in whispers of the inexplicable

circumstance which baffled even their intelligence and experience.

“It is a joke,” said Pencroft; “it is a trick some one has played us.

Well, I don’t like such jokes, and the joker had better look out for

himself, if he falls into my hands, I can tell him.”

As soon as the first gleam of light appeared in the east, the colonists,

suitably armed, repaired to the beach under Granite House. The rising

sun now shone on the cliff and they could see the windows, the shutters

of which were closed, through the curtains of foliage.

All here was in order; but a cry escaped the colonists when they saw

that the door, which they had closed on their departure, was now wide

open.

Some one had entered Granite House--there could be no more doubt about

that.

The upper ladder, which generally hung from the door to the landing,

was in its place, but the lower ladder was drawn up and raised to

the threshold. It was evident that the intruders had wished to guard

themselves against a surprise.

Pencroft hailed again.

No reply.

“The beggars,” exclaimed the sailor. “There they are sleeping quietly

as if they were in their own house. Hallo there, you pirates, brigands,

robbers, sons of John Bull!”

When Pencroft, being a Yankee, treated any one to the epithet of “son of

John Bull,” he considered he had reached the last limits of insult.

The sun had now completely risen, and the whole facade of Granite House

became illuminated by its rays; but in the interior as well as on the

exterior all was quiet and calm.

The settlers asked if Granite House was inhabited or not, and yet the

position of the ladder was sufficient to show that it was; it was also

certain that the inhabitants, whoever they might be, had not been able

to escape. But how were they to be got at?

Herbert then thought of fastening a cord to an arrow, and shooting the

arrow so that it should pass between the first rounds of the ladder

which hung from the threshold. By means of the cord they would then

be able to draw down the ladder to the ground, and so re-establish the

communication between the beach and Granite House. There was evidently

nothing else to be done, and, with a little skill, this method might

succeed. Very fortunately bows and arrows had been left at the Chimneys,

where they also found a quantity of light hibiscus cord. Pencroft

fastened this to a well-feathered arrow. Then Herbert fixing it to his

bow, took a careful aim for the lower part of the ladder.

Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, Pencroft, and Neb drew back, so as to see

if anything appeared at the windows. The reporter lifted his gun to his

shoulder and covered the door.

The bow was bent, the arrow flew, taking the cord with it, and passed

between the two last rounds.

The operation had succeeded.

Herbert immediately seized the end of the cord, but, at that moment when

he gave it a pull to bring down the ladder, an arm, thrust suddenly out

between the wall and the door, grasped it and dragged it inside Granite

House.

“The rascals!” shouted the sailor. “If a ball can do anything for you,

you shall not have long to wait for it.

“But who was it?” asked Neb.

“Who was it? Didn’t you see?”

“No.”

“It was a monkey, a sapajou, an orangoutang, a baboon, a gorilla, a

sagoin. Our dwelling has been invaded by monkeys, who climbed up the

ladder during our absence.”

And, at this moment, as if to bear witness to the truth of the sailor’s

words, two or three quadrumana showed themselves at the windows,

from which they had pushed back the shutters, and saluted the real

proprietors of the place with a thousand hideous grimaces.

“I knew that it was only a joke,” cried Pencroft; “but one of the jokers

shall pay the penalty for the rest.”

So saying, the sailor, raising his piece, took a rapid aim at one of the

monkeys and fired. All disappeared, except one who fell mortally wounded

on the beach. This monkey, which was of a large size, evidently belonged

to the first order of the quadrumana. Whether this was a chimpanzee, an

orangoutang, or a gorilla, he took rank among the anthropoid apes, who

are so called from their resemblance to the human race. However, Herbert

declared it to be an orangoutang.

“What a magnificent beast!” cried Neb.

“Magnificent, if you like,” replied Pencroft; “but still I do not see

how we are to get into our house.”

“Herbert is a good marksman,” said the reporter, “and his bow is here.

He can try again.”

“Why, these apes are so cunning,” returned Pencroft; “they won’t show

themselves again at the windows and so we can’t kill them; and when I

think of the mischief they may do in the rooms and storehouse--”

“Have patience,” replied Harding; “these creatures cannot keep us long

at bay.”

“I shall not be sure of that till I see them down here,” replied the

sailor. “And now, captain, do you know how many dozens of these fellows

are up there?”

It was difficult to reply to Pencroft, and as for the young boy making

another attempt, that was not easy; for the lower part of the ladder

had been drawn again into the door, and when another pull was given, the

line broke and the ladder remained firm. The case was really perplexing.

Pencroft stormed. There was a comic side to the situation, but he did

not think it funny at all. It was certain that the settlers would end by

reinstating themselves in their domicile and driving out the intruders,

but when and how? this is what they were not able to say.

Two hours passed, during which the apes took care not to show

themselves, but they were still there, and three or four times a nose or

a paw was poked out at the door or windows, and was immediately saluted

by a gun-shot.

“Let us hide ourselves,” at last said the engineer. “Perhaps the apes

will think we have gone quite away and will show themselves again. Let

Spilett and Herbert conceal themselves behind those rocks and fire on

all that may appear.”

The engineer’s orders were obeyed, and while the reporter and the lad,

the best marksmen in the colony, posted themselves in a good position,

but out of the monkeys’ sight, Neb, Pencroft, and Cyrus climbed the

plateau and entered the forest in order to kill some game, for it was

now time for breakfast and they had no provisions remaining.

In half an hour the hunters returned with a few rock pigeons, which they

roasted as well as they could. Not an ape had appeared. Gideon Spilett

and Herbert went to take their share of the breakfast, leaving Top to

watch under the windows. They then, having eaten, returned to their

post.

Two hours later, their situation was in no degree improved. The

quadrumana gave no sign of existence, and it might have been supposed

that they had disappeared; but what seemed more probable was that,

terrified by the death of one of their companions, and frightened by the

noise of the firearms, they had retreated to the back part of the house

or probably even into the store-room. And when they thought of

the valuables which this storeroom contained, the patience so much

recommended by the engineer, fast changed into great irritation, and

there certainly was room for it.

“Decidedly it is too bad,” said the reporter; “and the worst of it is,

there is no way of putting an end to it.”

“But we must drive these vagabonds out somehow,” cried the sailor.

“We could soon get the better of them, even if there are twenty of the

rascals; but for that, we must meet them hand to hand. Come now, is

there no way of getting at them?”

“Let us try to enter Granite House by the old opening at the lake,”

replied the engineer.

“Oh!” shouted the sailor, “and I never thought of that.”

This was in reality the only way by which to penetrate into Granite

House so as to fight with and drive out the intruders. The opening was,

it is true, closed up with a wall of cemented stones, which it would be

necessary to sacrifice, but that could easily be rebuilt. Fortunately,

Cyrus Harding had not as yet effected his project of hiding this opening

by raising the waters of the lake, for the operation would then have

taken some time.

It was already past twelve o’clock, when the colonists, well armed and

provided with picks and spades, left the Chimneys, passed beneath the

windows of Granite House, after telling Top to remain at his post, and

began to ascend the left bank of the Mercy, so as to reach Prospect

Heights.

But they had not made fifty steps in this direction, when they heard the

dog barking furiously.

And all rushed down the bank again.

Arrived at the turning, they saw that the situation had changed.

In fact, the apes, seized with a sudden panic, from some unknown cause,

were trying to escape. Two or three ran and clambered from one window

to another with the agility of acrobats. They were not even trying to

replace the ladder, by which it would have been easy to descend; perhaps

in their terror they had forgotten this way of escape. The colonists,

now being able to take aim without difficulty, fired. Some, wounded or

killed, fell back into the rooms, uttering piercing cries. The rest,

throwing themselves out, were dashed to pieces in their fall, and in a

few minutes, so far as they knew, there was not a living quadrumana in

Granite House.

At this moment the ladder was seen to slip over the threshold, then

unroll and fall to the ground.

“Hullo!” cried the sailor, “this is queer!”

“Very strange!” murmured the engineer, leaping first up the ladder.

“Take care, captain!” cried Pencroft, “perhaps there are still some of

these rascals.

“We shall soon see,” replied the engineer, without stopping however.

All his companions followed him, and in a minute they had arrived at the

threshold. They searched everywhere. There was no one in the rooms nor

in the storehouse, which had been respected by the band of quadrumana.

“Well now, and the ladder,” cried the sailor; “who can the gentleman

have been who sent us that down?”

But at that moment a cry was heard, and a great orang, who had hidden

himself in the passage, rushed into the room, pursued by Neb.

“Ah, the robber!” cried Pencroft.

And hatchet in hand, he was about to cleave the head of the animal, when

Cyrus Harding seized his arm, saying,--

“Spare him, Pencroft.”

“Pardon this rascal?”

“Yes! it was he who threw us the ladder!”

And the engineer said this in such a peculiar voice that it was

difficult to know whether he spoke seriously or not.

Nevertheless, they threw themselves on the orang, who defended himself

gallantly, but was soon overpowered and bound.

“There!” said Pencroft. “And what shall we make of him, now we’ve got

him?”

“A servant!” replied Herbert.

The lad was not joking in saying this, for he knew how this intelligent

race could be turned to account.

The settlers then approached the ape and gazed at it attentively. He

belonged to the family of anthropoid apes, of which the facial angle is

not much inferior to that of the Australians and Hottentots. It was an

orangoutang, and as such, had neither the ferocity of the gorilla, nor

the stupidity of the baboon. It is to this family of the anthropoid apes

that so many characteristics belong which prove them to be possessed

of an almost human intelligence. Employed in houses, they can wait at

table, sweep rooms, brush clothes, clean boots, handle a knife, fork,

and spoon properly, and even drink wine... doing everything as well as

the best servant that ever walked upon two legs. Buffon possessed one

of these apes, who served him for a long time as a faithful and zealous

servant.

The one which had been seized in the hall of Granite House was a great

fellow, six feet high, with an admirably poportioned frame, a broad

chest, head of a moderate size, the facial angle reaching sixty-five

degrees, round skull, projecting nose, skin covered with soft glossy

hair, in short, a fine specimen of the anthropoids. His eyes, rather

smaller than human eyes, sparkled with intelligence; his white teeth

glittered under his mustache, and he wore a little curly brown beard.

“A handsome fellow!” said Pencroft; “if we only knew his language, we

could talk to him.”

“But, master,” said Neb, “are you serious? Are we going to take him as a

servant?”

“Yes, Neb,” replied the engineer, smiling. “But you must not be

jealous.”

“And I hope he will make an excellent servant,” added Herbert. “He

appears young, and will be easy to educate, and we shall not be obliged

to use force to subdue him, nor draw his teeth, as is sometimes done. He

will soon grow fond of his masters if they are kind to him.”

“And they will be,” replied Pencroft, who had forgotten all his rancor

against “the jokers.”

Then, approaching the orang,--

“Well, old boy!” he asked, “how are you?”

The orang replied by a little grunt which did not show any anger.

“You wish to join the colony?” again asked the sailor. “You are going to

enter the service of Captain Cyrus Harding?”

Another respondent grunt was uttered by the ape.

“And you will be satisfied with no other wages than your food?”

Third affirmative grunt.

“This conversation is slightly monotonous,” observed Gideon Spilett.

“So much the better,” replied Pencroft; “the best servants are those who

talk the least. And then, no wages, do you hear, my boy? We will give

you no wages at first, but we will double them afterwards if we are

pleased with you.”

Thus the colony was increased by a new member. As to his name the sailor

begged that in memory of another ape which he had known, he might be

called Jupiter, and Jup for short.

And so, without more ceremony, Master Jup was installed in Granite

House.

Chapter 7

The settlers in Lincoln Island had now regained their dwelling, without

having been obliged to reach it by the old opening, and were therefore

spared the trouble of mason’s work. It was certainly lucky, that at the

moment they were about to set out to do so, the apes had been seized

with that terror, no less sudden than inexplicable, which had driven

them out of Granite House. Had the animals discovered that they

were about to be attacked from another direction? This was the only

explanation of their sudden retreat.

During the day the bodies of the apes were carried into the wood, where

they were buried; then the settlers busied themselves in repairing the

disorder caused by the intruders, disorder but not damage, for although

they had turned everything in the rooms topsy-turvy, yet they had broken

nothing. Neb relighted his stove, and the stores in the larder furnished

a substantial repast, to which all did ample justice.

Jup was not forgotten, and he ate with relish some stonepine almonds

and rhizome roots, with which he was abundantly supplied. Pencroft had

unfastened his arms, but judged it best to have his legs tied until they

were more sure of his submission.

Then, before retiring to rest, Harding and his companions seated round

their table, discussed those plans, the execution of which was most

pressing. The most important and most urgent was the establishment of a

bridge over the Mercy, so as to form a communication with the southern

part of the island and Granite House; then the making of an enclosure

for the musmons or other woolly animals which they wished to capture.

These two projects would help to solve the difficulty as to their

clothing, which was now serious. The bridge would render easy the

transport of the balloon case, which would furnish them with linen, and

the inhabitants of the enclosure would yield wool which would supply

them with winter clothes.

As to the enclosure, it was Cyrus Harding’s intention to establish it at

the sources of the Red Creek, where the ruminants would find fresh and

abundant pasture. The road between Prospect Heights and the sources of

the stream was already partly beaten, and with a better cart than the

first, the material could be easily conveyed to the spot, especially if

they could manage to capture some animals to draw it.

But though there might be no inconvenience in the enclosure being so far

from Granite House, it would not be the same with the poultry-yard, to

which Neb called the attention of the colonists. It was indeed necessary

that the birds should be close within reach of the cook, and no place

appeared more favorable for the establishment of the said poultry-yard

than that portion of the banks of the lake which was close to the old

opening.

Water-birds would prosper there as well as others, and the couple

of tinamous taken in their last excursion would be the first to be

domesticated.

The next day, the 3rd of November, the new works were begun by the

construction of the bridge, and all hands were required for this

important task. Saws, hatchets, and hammers were shouldered by the

settlers, who, now transformed into carpenters, descended to the shore.

There Pencroft observed,--

“Suppose, that during our absence, Master Jup takes it into his head to

draw up the ladder which he so politely returned to us yesterday?”

“Let us tie its lower end down firmly,” replied Cyrus Harding.

This was done by means of two stakes securely fixed in the sand. Then

the settlers, ascending the left bank of the Mercy, soon arrived at the

angle formed by the river.

There they halted, in order to ascertain if the bridge could be thrown

across. The place appeared suitable.

In fact, from this spot, to Port Balloon, discovered the day before on

the southern coast, there was only a distance of three miles and a

half, and from the bridge to the Port, it would be easy to make a good

cart-road which would render the communication between Granite House and

the south of the island extremely easy.

Cyrus Harding now imparted to his companions a scheme for completely

isolating Prospect Heights so as to shelter it from the attacks both of

quadrupeds and quadrumana. In this way, Granite House, the Chimneys, the

poultry-yard, and all the upper part of the plateau which was to be used

for cultivation, would be protected against the depredations of animals.

Nothing could be easier than to execute this project, and this is how

the engineer intended to set to work.

The plateau was already defended on three sides by water-courses, either

artificial or natural. On the northwest, by the shores of Lake Grant,

from the entrance of the passage to the breach made in the banks of the

lake for the escape of the water.

On the north, from this breach to the sea, by the new water-course which

had hollowed out a bed for itself across the plateau and shore, above

and below the fall, and it would be enough to dig the bed of this creek

a little deeper to make it impracticable for animals, on all the eastern

border by the sea itself, from the mouth of the aforesaid creek to the

mouth of the Mercy.

Lastly, on the south, from the mouth to the turn of the Mercy where the

bridge was to be established.

The western border of the plateau now remained between the turn of the

river and the southern angle of the lake, a distance of about a mile,

which was open to all comers. But nothing could be easier than to dig a

broad deep ditch, which could be filled from the lake, and the overflow

of which would throw itself by a rapid fall into the bed of the Mercy.

The level of the lake would, no doubt, be somewhat lowered by this fresh

discharge of its waters, but Cyrus Harding had ascertained that the

volume of water in the Red Creek was considerable enough to allow of the

execution of this project.

“So then,” added the engineer, “Prospect Heights will become a regular

island, being surrounded with water on all sides, and only communicating

with the rest of our domain by the bridge which we are about to throw

across the Mercy, the two little bridges already established above and

below the fall; and, lastly, two other little bridges which must be

constructed, one over the canal which I propose to dig, the other across

to the left bank of the Mercy. Now, if these bridges can be raised at

will, Prospect Heights will be guarded from any surprise.”

The bridge was the most urgent work. Trees were selected, cut down,

stripped of their branches, and cut into beams, joists, and planks. The

end of the bridge which rested on the right bank of the Mercy was to be

firm, but the other end on the left bank was to be movable, so that it

might be raised by means of a counterpoise, as some canal bridges are

managed.

This was certainly a considerable work, and though it was skillfully

conducted, it took some time, for the Mercy at this place was eighty

feet wide. It was therefore necessary to fix piles in the bed of

the river so as to sustain the floor of the bridge and establish a

pile-driver to act on the tops of these piles, which would thus form two

arches and allow the bridge to support heavy loads.

Happily there was no want of tools with which to shape the wood, nor

of iron-work to make it firm, nor of the ingenuity of a man who had a

marvelous knowledge of the work, nor lastly, the zeal of his companions,

who in seven months had necessarily acquired great skill in the use of

their tools; and it must be said that not the least skilful was Gideon

Spilett, who in dexterity almost equaled the sailor himself. “Who would

ever have expected so much from a newspaper man!” thought Pencroft.

The construction of the Mercy bridge lasted three weeks of regular

hard work. They even breakfasted on the scene of their labors, and the

weather being magnificent, they only returned to Granite House to sleep.

During this period it may be stated that Master Jup grew more accustomed

to his new masters, whose movements he always watched with very

inquisitive eyes. However, as a precautionary measure, Pencroft did not

as yet allow him complete liberty, rightly wishing to wait until the

limits of the plateau should be settled by the projected works. Top

and Jup were good friends and played willingly together, but Jup did

everything solemnly.

On the 20th of November the bridge was finished. The movable part,

balanced by the counterpoise, swung easily, and only a slight effort was

needed to raise it; between its hinge and the last cross-bar on which

it rested when closed, there existed a space of twenty feet, which was

sufficiently wide to prevent any animals from crossing.

The settlers now began to talk of fetching the balloon-case, which they

were anxious to place in perfect security; but to bring it, it would be

necessary to take a cart to Port Balloon, and consequently, necessary to

beat a road through the dense forests of the Far West. This would take

some time. Also, Neb and Pencroft having gone to examine into the state

of things at Port Balloon, and reported that the stock of cloth would

suffer no damage in the grotto where it was stored, it was decided that

the work at Prospect Heights should not be discontinued.

“That,” observed Pencroft, “will enable us to establish our poultry-yard

under better conditions, since we need have no fear of visits from foxes

nor the attacks of other beasts.”

“Then,” added Neb, “we can clear the plateau, and transplant wild plants

to it.”

“And prepare our second corn-field!” cried the sailor with a triumphant

air.

In fact, the first corn-field sown with a single grain had prospered

admirably, thanks to Pencroft’s care. It had produced the ten ears

foretold by the engineer, and each ear containing eighty grains, the

colony found itself in possession of eight hundred grains, in six

months, which promised a double harvest each year.

These eight hundred grains, except fifty, which were prudently reserved,

were to be sown in a new field, but with no less care than was bestowed

on the single grain.

The field was prepared, then surrounded with a strong palisade, high and

pointed, which quadrupeds would have found difficulty in leaping. As to

birds, some scarecrows, due to Pencroft’s ingenious brain, were enough

to frighten them. The seven hundred and fifty grains deposited in very

regular furrows were then left for nature to do the rest.

On the 21st of November, Cyrus Harding began to plan the canal which was

to close the plateau on the west, from the south angle of Lake Grant to

the angle of the Mercy. There was there two or three feet of vegetable

earth, and below that granite. It was therefore necessary to manufacture

some more nitro-glycerine, and the nitro-glycerine did its accustomed

work. In less than a fortnight a ditch, twelve feet wide and six deep,

was dug out in the hard ground of the plateau. A new trench was made by

the same means in the rocky border of the lake, forming a small stream,

to which they gave the name of Creek Glycerine, and which was thus an

affluent of the Mercy. As the engineer had predicted, the level of the

lake was lowered, though very slightly. To complete the enclosure the

bed of the stream on the beach was considerably enlarged, and the sand

supported by means of stakes.

By the end of the first fortnight of December these works were finished,

and Prospect Heights--that is to say, a sort of irregular pentagon,

having a perimeter of nearly four miles, surrounded by a liquid

belt--was completely protected from depredators of every description.

During the month of December, the heat was very great. In spite of it,

however, the settlers continued their work, and as they were anxious to

possess a poultry-yard they forthwith commenced it.

It is useless to say that since the enclosing of the plateau had been

completed, Master Jup had been set at liberty. He did not leave his

masters, and evinced no wish to escape. He was a gentle animal, though

very powerful and wonderfully active. He was already taught to make

himself useful by drawing loads of wood and carting away the stones

which were extracted from the bed of Creek Glycerine.

The poultry-yard occupied an area of two hundred square yards, on the

southeastern bank of the lake. It was surrounded by a palisade, and

in it were constructed various shelters for the birds which were to

populate it. These were simply built of branches and divided into

compartments, made ready for the expected guests.

The first were the two tinamous, which were not long in having a number

of young ones; they had for companions half a dozen ducks, accustomed to

the borders of the lake. Some belonged to the Chinese species, of which

the wings open like a fan, and which by the brilliancy of their plumage

rival the golden pheasants. A few days afterwards, Herbert snared a

couple of gallinaceae, with spreading tails composed of long feathers,

magnificent alectors, which soon became tame. As to pelicans,

kingfishers, water-hens, they came of themselves to the shores of the

poultry-yard, and this little community, after some disputes, cooing,

screaming, clucking, ended by settling down peacefully, and increased in

encouraging proportion for the future use of the colony.

Cyrus Harding, wishing to complete his performance, established a

pigeon-house in a corner of the poultry-yard. There he lodged a dozen

of those pigeons which frequented the rocks of the plateau. These birds

soon became accustomed to returning every evening to their new dwelling,

and showed more disposition to domesticate themselves than their

congeners, the wood-pigeons.

Lastly, the time had come for turning the balloon-case to use, by

cutting it up to make shirts and other articles; for as to keeping it in

its present form, and risking themselves in a balloon filled with gas,

above a sea of the limits of which they had no idea, it was not to be

thought of.

It was necessary to bring the case to Granite House, and the colonists

employed themselves in rendering their heavy cart lighter and more

manageable. But though they had a vehicle, the moving power was yet to

be found.

But did there not exist in the island some animal which might supply the

place of the horse, ass, or ox? That was the question.

“Certainly,” said Pencroft, “a beast of burden would be very useful to

us until the captain has made a steam cart, or even an engine, for some

day we shall have a railroad from Granite House to Port Balloon, with a

branch line to Mount Franklin!”

One day, the 23rd of December, Neb and Top were heard shouting and

barking, each apparently trying to see who could make the most noise.

The settlers, who were busy at the Chimneys, ran, fearing some vexatious

incident.

What did they see? Two fine animals of a large size that had imprudently

ventured on the plateau, when the bridges were open. One would have said

they were horses, or at least donkeys, male and female, of a fine shape,

dove-colored, the legs and tail white, striped with black on the head

and neck. They advanced quietly without showing any uneasiness, and

gazed at the men, in whom they could not as yet recognize their future

masters.

“These are onagers!” cried Herbert, “animals something between the zebra

and the quagga!”

“Why not donkeys?” asked Neb.

“Because they have not long ears, and their shape is more graceful!”

“Donkeys or horses,” interrupted Pencroft, “they are ‘moving powers,’ as

the captain would say, and as such must be captured!”

The sailor, without frightening the animals, crept through the grass

to the bridge over Creek Glycerine, lowered it, and the onagers were

prisoners.

Now, should they seize them with violence and master them by force? No.

It was decided that for a few days they should be allowed to roam

freely about the plateau, where there was an abundance of grass, and the

engineer immediately began to prepare a stable near the poultry-yard,

in which the onagers might find food, with a good litter, and shelter

during the night.

This done, the movements of the two magnificent creatures were left

entirely free, and the settlers avoided even approaching them so as to

terrify them. Several times, however, the onagers appeared to wish to

leave the plateau, too confined for animals accustomed to the plains

and forests. They were then seen following the water-barrier which

everywhere presented itself before them, uttering short neighs, then

galloping through the grass, and becoming calmer, they would remain

entire hours gazing at the woods, from which they were cut off for ever!

In the meantime harness of vegetable fiber had been manufactured, and

some days after the capture of the onagers, not only the cart was ready,

but a straight road, or rather a cutting, had been made through the

forests of the Far West, from the angle of the Mercy to Port Balloon.

The cart might then be driven there, and towards the end of December

they tried the onagers for the first time.

Pencroft had already coaxed the animals to come and eat out of his hand,

and they allowed him to approach without making any difficulty, but once

harnessed they reared and could with difficulty be held in. However, it

was not long before they submitted to this new service, for the onager,

being less refractory than the zebra, is frequently put in harness

in the mountainous regions of Southern Africa, and it has even been

acclimatized in Europe, under zones of a relative coolness.

On this day all the colony, except Pencroft who walked at the animals’

heads, mounted the cart, and set out on the road to Port Balloon.

Of course they were jolted over the somewhat rough road, but the vehicle

arrived without any accident, and was soon loaded with the case and

rigging of the balloon.

At eight o’clock that evening the cart, after passing over the Mercy

bridge, descended the left bank of the river, and stopped on the beach.

The onagers being unharnessed, were thence led to their stable, and

Pencroft before going to sleep gave vent to his feelings in a deep sigh

of satisfaction that awoke all the echoes of Granite House.

Chapter 8

The first week of January was devoted to the manufacture of the linen

garments required by the colony. The needles found in the box were used

by sturdy if not delicate fingers, and we may be sure that what was sewn

was sewn firmly.

There was no lack of thread, thanks to Cyrus Harding’s idea of

re-employing that which had been already used in the covering of the

balloon. This with admirable patience was all unpicked by Gideon Spilett

and Herbert, for Pencroft had been obliged to give this work up, as it

irritated him beyond measure; but he had no equal in the sewing part

of the business. Indeed, everybody knows that sailors have a remarkable

aptitude for tailoring.

The cloth of which the balloon-case was made was then cleaned by means

of soda and potash, obtained by the incineration of plants, in such a

way that the cotton, having got rid of the varnish, resumed its natural

softness and elasticity; then, exposed to the action of the atmosphere,

it soon became perfectly white. Some dozen shirts and sock--the latter

not knitted, of course, but made of cotton--were thus manufactured. What

a comfort it was to the settlers to clothe themselves again in clean

linen, which was doubtless rather rough, but they were not troubled

about that! and then to go to sleep between sheets, which made the

couches at Granite House into quite comfortable beds!

It was about this time also that they made boots of seal-leather, which

were greatly needed to replace the shoes and boots brought from America.

We may be sure that these new shoes were large enough and never pinched

the feet of the wearers.

With the beginning of the year 1866 the heat was very great, but

the hunting in the forests did not stand still. Agouties, peccaries,

capybaras, kangaroos, game of all sorts, actually swarmed there, and

Spilett and Herbert were too good marksmen ever to throw away their shot

uselessly.

Cyrus Harding still recommended them to husband the ammunition, and he

took measures to replace the powder and shot which had been found in

the box, and which he wished to reserve for the future. How did he know

where chance might one day cast his companions and himself in the

event of their leaving their domain? They should, then, prepare for the

unknown future by husbanding their ammunition and by substituting for it

some easily renewable substance.

To replace lead, of which Harding had found no traces in the island, he

employed granulated iron, which was easy to manufacture. These bullets,

not having the weight of leaden bullets, were made larger, and each

charge contained less, but the skill of the sportsmen made up this

deficiency. As to powder, Cyrus Harding would have been able to make

that also, for he had at his disposal saltpeter, sulphur, and coal; but

this preparation requires extreme care, and without special tools it is

difficult to produce it of a good quality. Harding preferred, therefore,

to manufacture pyroxyle, that is to say gun-cotton, a substance in which

cotton is not indispensable, as the elementary tissue of vegetables may

be used, and this is found in an almost pure state, not only in cotton,

but in the textile fiber of hemp and flax, in paper, the pith of the

elder, etc. Now, the elder abounded in the island towards the mouth of

Red Creek, and the colonists had already made coffee of the berries of

these shrubs, which belong to the family of the caprifoliaceae.

The only thing to be collected, therefore, was elder-pith, for as to the

other substance necessary for the manufacture of pyroxyle, it was only

fuming azotic acid. Now, Harding having sulphuric acid at his disposal,

had already been easily able to produce azotic acid by attacking the

saltpeter with which nature supplied him. He accordingly resolved to

manufacture and employ pyroxyle, although it has some inconveniences,

that is to say, a great inequality of effect, an excessive

inflammability, since it takes fire at one hundred and seventy

degrees instead of two hundred and forty, and lastly, an instantaneous

deflagration which might damage the firearms. On the other hand, the

advantages of pyroxyle consist in this, that it is not injured by damp,

that it does not make the gun-barrels dirty, and that its force is four

times that of ordinary powder.

To make pyroxyle, the cotton must be immersed in the fuming azotic acid

for a quarter of an hour, then washed in cold water and dried. Nothing

could be more simple.

Cyrus Harding had only at his disposal the ordinary azotic acid and not

the fuming or monohydrate azotic acid, that is to say, acid which emits

white vapors when it comes in contact with damp air; but by substituting

for the latter ordinary azotic acid, mixed, in the proportion of from

three to five volumes of concentrated sulphuric acid, the engineer

obtained the same result. The sportsmen of the island therefore soon

had a perfectly prepared substance, which, employed discreetly, produced

admirable results.

About this time the settlers cleared three acres of the plateau, and

the rest was preserved in a wild state, for the benefit of the onagers.

Several excursions were made into the Jacamar Wood and the forests of

the Far West, and they brought back from thence a large collection of

wild vegetables, spinach, cress, radishes, and turnips, which careful

culture would soon improve, and which would temper the regimen on which

the settlers had till then subsisted. Supplies of wood and coal were

also carted. Each excursion was at the same time a means of improving

the roads, which gradually became smoother under the wheels of the cart.

The rabbit-warren still continued to supply the larder of Granite House.

As fortunately it was situated on the other side of Creek Glycerine,

its inhabitants could not reach the plateau nor ravage the newly-made

plantation. The oyster-bed among the rocks was frequently renewed and

furnished excellent molluscs. Besides that, the fishing, either in

the lake or the Mercy, was very profitable, for Pencroft had made some

lines, armed with iron hooks, with which they frequently caught fine

trout, and a species of fish whose silvery sides were speckled with

yellow, and which were also extremely savory. Master Neb, who was

skilled in the culinary art, knew how to vary agreeably the bill of

fare. Bread alone was wanting at the table of the settlers, and as has

been said, they felt this privation greatly.

The settlers hunted too the turtles which frequented the shores of

Cape Mandible. At this place the beach was covered with little mounds,

concealing perfectly spherical turtles’ eggs, with white hard shells,

the albumen of which does not coagulate as that of birds’ eggs. They

were hatched by the sun, and their number was naturally considerable, as

each turtle can lay annually two hundred and fifty.

“A regular egg-field,” observed Gideon Spilett, “and we have nothing to

do but to pick them up.”

But not being contented with simply the produce, they made chase after

the producers, the result of which was that they were able to bring back

to Granite House a dozen of these chelonians, which were really valuable

from an alimentary point of view. The turtle soup, flavored with

aromatic herbs, often gained well-merited praises for its preparer, Neb.

We must here mention another fortunate circumstance by which new stores

for the winter were laid in. Shoals of salmon entered the Mercy, and

ascended the country for several miles. It was the time at which the

females, going to find suitable places in which to spawn, precede the

males and make a great noise through the fresh water. A thousand of

these fish, which measured about two feet and a half in length, came up

the river, and a large quantity were retained by fixing dams across

the stream. More than a hundred were thus taken, which were salted and

stored for the time when winter, freezing up the streams, would render

fishing impracticable. By this time the intelligent Jup was raised

to the duty of valet. He had been dressed in a jacket, white linen

breeches, and an apron, the pockets of which were his delight. The

clever orang had been marvelously trained by Neb, and any one would have

said that the Negro and the ape understood each other when they talked

together. Jup had besides a real affection for Neb, and Neb returned

it. When his services were not required, either for carrying wood or for

climbing to the top of some tree, Jup passed the greatest part of his

time in the kitchen, where he endeavored to imitate Neb in all that he

saw him do. The black showed the greatest patience and even extreme

zeal in instructing his pupil, and the pupil exhibited remarkable

intelligence in profiting by the lessons he received from his master.

Judge then of the pleasure Master Jup gave to the inhabitants of Granite

House when, without their having had any idea of it, he appeared one

day, napkin on his arm, ready to wait at table. Quick, attentive, he

acquitted himself perfectly, changing the plates, bringing dishes,

pouring out water, all with a gravity which gave intense amusement to

the settlers, and which enraptured Pencroft.

“Jup, some soup!”

“Jup, a little agouti!”

“Jup, a plate!”

“Jup! Good Jup! Honest Jup!”

Nothing was heard but that, and Jup without ever being disconcerted,

replied to every one, watched for everything, and he shook his head in a

knowing way when Pencroft, referring to his joke of the first day, said

to him,--

“Decidedly, Jup, your wages must be doubled.”

It is useless to say that the orang was now thoroughly domesticated at

Granite House, and that he often accompanied his masters to the forest

without showing any wish to leave them. It was most amusing to see him

walking with a stick which Pencroft had given him, and which he carried

on his shoulder like a gun. If they wished to gather some fruit from

the summit of a tree, how quickly he climbed for it. If the wheel of the

cart stuck in the mud, with what energy did Jup with a single heave of

his shoulder put it right again.

“What a jolly fellow he is!” cried Pencroft often. “If he was as

mischievous as he is good, there would be no doing anything with him!”

It was towards the end of January the colonists began their labors in

the center of the island. It had been decided that a corral should be

established near the sources of the Red Creek, at the foot of Mount

Franklin, destined to contain the ruminants, whose presence would have

been troublesome at Granite House, and especially for the musmons, who

were to supply the wool for the settlers’ winter garments.

Each morning, the colony, sometimes entire, but more often represented

only by Harding, Herbert, and Pencroft, proceeded to the sources of the

Creek, a distance of not more than five miles, by the newly beaten road

to which the name of Corral Road had been given.

There a site was chosen, at the back of the southern ridge of the

mountain. It was a meadow land, dotted here and there with clumps of

trees, and watered by a little stream, which sprung from the slopes

which closed it in on one side. The grass was fresh, and it was not

too much shaded by the trees which grew about it. This meadow was to

be surrounded by a palisade, high enough to prevent even the most agile

animals from leaping over. This enclosure would be large enough to

contain a hundred musmons and wild goats, with all the young ones they

might produce.

The perimeter of the corral was then traced by the engineer, and

they would then have proceeded to fell the trees necessary for the

construction of the palisade, but as the opening up of the road had

already necessitated the sacrifice of a considerable number, those were

brought and supplied a hundred stakes, which were firmly fixed in the

ground.

The construction of this corral did not take less than three weeks,

for besides the palisade, Cyrus Harding built large sheds, in which the

animals could take shelter. These buildings had also to be made very

strong, for musmons are powerful animals, and their first fury was to be

feared. The stakes, sharpened at their upper end and hardened by fire,

had been fixed by means of cross-bars, and at regular distances props

assured the solidity of the whole.

The corral finished, a raid had to be made on the pastures frequented

by the ruminants. This was done on the 7th of February, on a beautiful

summer’s day, and every one took part in it. The onagers, already well

trained, were ridden by Spilett and Herbert, and were of great use.

The maneuver consisted simply in surrounding the musmons and goats, and

gradually narrowing the circle around them. Cyrus Harding, Pencroft,

Neb, and Jup, posted themselves in different parts of the wood, while

the two cavaliers and Top galloped in a radius of half a mile round the

corral.

The musmons were very numerous in this part of the island. These fine

animals were as large as deer; their horns were stronger than those of

the ram, and their gray-colored fleece was mixed with long hair.

This hunting day was very fatiguing. Such going and coming, and running

and riding and shouting! Of a hundred musmons which had been surrounded,

more than two-thirds escaped, but at last, thirty of these animals and

ten wild goats were gradually driven back towards the corral, the open

door of which appearing to offer a means of escape, they rushed in and

were prisoners.

In short, the result was satisfactory, and the settlers had no reason to

complain. There was no doubt that the flock would prosper, and that at

no distant time not only wool but hides would be abundant.

That evening the hunters returned to Granite House quite exhausted.

However, notwithstanding their fatigue, they returned the next day

to visit the corral. The prisoners had been trying to overthrow the

palisade, but of course had not succeeded, and were not long in becoming

more tranquil.

During the month of February, no event of any importance occurred. The

daily labors were pursued methodically, and, as well as improving the

roads to the corral and to Port Balloon, a third was commenced, which,

starting from the enclosure, proceeded towards the western coast. The

yet unknown portion of Lincoln Island was that of the wood-covered

Serpentine Peninsula, which sheltered the wild beasts, from which Gideon

Spilett was so anxious to clear their domain.

Before the cold season should appear the most assiduous care was given

to the cultivation of the wild plants which had been transplanted from

the forest to Prospect Heights. Herbert never returned from an excursion

without bringing home some useful vegetable. One day, it was some

specimens of the chicory tribe, the seeds of which by pressure yield an

excellent oil; another, it was some common sorrel, whose antiscorbutic

qualities were not to be despised; then, some of those precious tubers,

which have at all times been cultivated in South America, potatoes, of

which more than two hundred species are now known. The kitchen garden,

now well stocked and carefully defended from the birds, was divided

into small beds, where grew lettuces, kidney potatoes, sorrel, turnips,

radishes, and other coneiferae. The soil on the plateau was particularly

fertile, and it was hoped that the harvests would be abundant.

They had also a variety of different beverages, and so long as they did

not demand wine, the most hard to please would have had no reason to

complain. To the Oswego tea, and the fermented liquor extracted from the

roots of the dragonnier, Harding had added a regular beer, made from

the young shoots of the spruce-fir, which, after having been boiled

and fermented, made that agreeable drink called by the Anglo-Americans

spring-beer.

Towards the end of the summer, the poultry-yard was possessed of

a couple of fine bustards, which belonged to the houbara species,

characterized by a sort of feathery mantle; a dozen shovelers, whose

upper mandible was prolonged on each side by a membraneous appendage;

and also some magnificent cocks, similar to the Mozambique cocks,

the comb, caruncle, and epidermis being black. So far, everything had

succeeded, thanks to the activity of these courageous and intelligent

men. Nature did much for them, doubtless; but faithful to the great

precept, they made a right use of what a bountiful Providence gave them.

After the heat of these warm summer days, in the evening when their work

was finished and the sea-breeze began to blow, they liked to sit on the

edge of Prospect Heights, in a sort of veranda, covered with creepers,

which Neb had made with his own hands. There they talked, they

instructed each other, they made plans, and the rough good-humor of

the sailor always amused this little world, in which the most perfect

harmony had never ceased to reign.

They often spoke of their country, of their dear and great America. What

was the result of the War of Secession? It could not have been greatly

prolonged. Richmond had doubtless soon fallen into the hands of General

Grant. The taking of the capital of the Confederates must have been the

last action of this terrible struggle. Now the North had triumphed in

the good cause, how welcome would have been a newspaper to the exiles in

Lincoln Island! For eleven months all communication between them and the

rest of their fellow-creatures had been interrupted, and in a short time

the 24th of March would arrive, the anniversary of the day on which

the balloon had thrown them on this unknown coast. They were then mere

castaways, not even knowing how they should preserve their miserable

lives from the fury of the elements! And now, thanks to the knowledge of

their captain, and their own intelligence, they were regular colonists,

furnished with arms, tools, and instruments; they had been able to turn

to their profit the animals, plants, and minerals of the island, that is

to say, the three kingdoms of Nature.

Yes; they often talked of all these things and formed still more plans.

As to Cyrus Harding he was for the most part silent, and listened to

his companions more often than he spoke to them. Sometimes he smiled

at Herbert’s ideas or Pencroft’s nonsense, but always and everywhere he

pondered over those inexplicable facts, that strange enigma, of which

the secret still escaped him!

Chapter 9

The weather changed during the first week of March. There had been a

full moon at the commencement of the month, and the heat was excessive.

The atmosphere was felt to be full of electricity, and a period of some

length of tempestuous weather was to be feared.

Indeed, on the 2nd, peals of thunder were heard, the wind blew from the

east, and hail rattled against the facade of Granite House like

volleys of grape-shot. The door and windows were immediately closed,

or everything in the rooms would have been drenched. On seeing these

hailstones, some of which were the size of a pigeon’s egg, Pencroft’s

first thought was that his cornfield was in serious danger.

He directly rushed to his field, where little green heads were already

appearing, and by means of a great cloth, he managed to protect his

crop.

This bad weather lasted a week, during which time the thunder rolled

without cessation in the depths of the sky.

The colonists, not having any pressing work out of doors, profited

by the bad weather to work at the interior of Granite House, the

arrangement of which was becoming more complete from day to day. The

engineer made a turning-lathe, with which he turned several articles

both for the toilet and the kitchen, particularly buttons, the want of

which was greatly felt. A gunrack had been made for the firearms, which

were kept with extreme care, and neither tables nor cupboards were left

incomplete. They sawed, they planed, they filed, they turned; and during

the whole of this bad season, nothing was heard but the grinding

of tools or the humming of the turning-lathe which responded to the

growling of the thunder.

Master Jup had not been forgotten, and he occupied a room at the back,

near the storeroom, a sort of cabin with a cot always full of good

litter, which perfectly suited his taste.

“With good old Jup there is never any quarreling,” often repeated

Pencroft, “never any improper reply. What a servant, Neb, what a

servant!”

Of course Jup was now well used to service. He brushed their clothes,

he turned the spit, he waited at table, he swept the rooms, he gathered

wood, and he performed another admirable piece of service which

delighted Pencroft--he never went to sleep without first coming to tuck

up the worthy sailor in his bed.

As to the health of the members of the colony, bipeds or bimana,

quadrumana or quadrupeds, it left nothing to be desired. With their life

in the open air, on this salubrious soil, under that temperate zone,

working both with head and hands, they could not suppose that illness

would ever attack them.

All were indeed wonderfully well. Herbert had already grown two inches

in the year. His figure was forming and becoming more manly, and he

promised to be an accomplished man, physically as well as morally.

Besides he improved himself during the leisure hours which manual

occupations left to him; he read the books found in the case; and after

the practical lessons which were taught by the very necessity of their

position, he found in the engineer for science, and the reporter for

languages, masters who were delighted to complete his education.

The tempest ended about the 9th of March, but the sky remained covered

with clouds during the whole of this last summer month. The atmosphere,

violently agitated by the electric commotions, could not recover its

former purity, and there was almost invariably rain and fog, except for

three or four fine days on which several excursions were made. About

this time the female onager gave birth to a young one which belonged to

the same sex as its mother, and which throve capitally. In the corral,

the flock of musmons had also increased, and several lambs already

bleated in the sheds, to the great delight of Neb and Herbert, who had

each their favorite among these newcomers. An attempt was also made

for the domestication of the peccaries, which succeeded well. A sty was

constructed under the poultry-yard, and soon contained several young

ones in the way to become civilized, that is to say, to become fat

under Neb’s care. Master Jup, entrusted with carrying them their

daily nourishment, leavings from the kitchen, etc., acquitted himself

conscientiously of his task. He sometimes amused himself at the expense

of his little pensioners by tweaking their tails; but this was mischief,

and not wickedness, for these little twisted tails amused him like a

plaything, and his instinct was that of a child. One day in this month

of March, Pencroft, talking to the engineer, reminded Cyrus Harding of a

promise which the latter had not as yet had time to fulfil.

“You once spoke of an apparatus which would take the place of the long

ladders at Granite House, captain,” said he; “won’t you make it some

day?”

“Nothing will be easier; but is this a really useful thing?”

“Certainly, captain. After we have given ourselves necessaries, let us

think a little of luxury. For us it may be luxury, if you like, but

for things it is necessary. It isn’t very convenient to climb up a long

ladder when one is heavily loaded.”

“Well, Pencroft, we will try to please you,” replied Cyrus Harding.

“But you have no machine at your disposal.”

“We will make one.”

“A steam machine?”

“No, a water machine.”

And, indeed, to work his apparatus there was already a natural force

at the disposal of the engineer which could be used without great

difficulty. For this, it was enough to augment the flow of the little

stream which supplied the interior of Granite House with water. The

opening among the stones and grass was then increased, thus producing

a strong fall at the bottom of the passage, the overflow from which

escaped by the inner well. Below this fall the engineer fixed a cylinder

with paddles, which was joined on the exterior with a strong cable

rolled on a wheel, supporting a basket. In this way, by means of a long

rope reaching to the ground, which enabled them to regulate the motive

power, they could rise in the basket to the door of Granite House.

It was on the 17th of March that the lift acted for the first time, and

gave universal satisfaction. Henceforward all the loads, wood, coal,

provisions, and even the settlers themselves, were hoisted by this

simple system, which replaced the primitive ladder, and, as may be

supposed, no one thought of regretting the change. Top particularly was

enchanted with this improvement, for he had not, and never could have

possessed Master Jup’s skill in climbing ladders, and often it was on

Neb’s back, or even on that of the orang that he had been obliged to

make the ascent to Granite House. About this time, too, Cyrus Harding

attempted to manufacture glass, and he at first put the old pottery-kiln

to this new use. There were some difficulties to be encountered; but,

after several fruitless attempts, he succeeded in setting up a glass

manufactory, which Gideon Spilett and Herbert, his usual assistants, did

not leave for several days. As to the substances used in the composition

of glass, they are simply sand, chalk, and soda, either carbonate or

sulphate. Now the beach supplied sand, lime supplied chalk, sea-weeds

supplied soda, pyrites supplied sulphuric acid, and the ground supplied

coal to heat the kiln to the wished-for temperature. Cyrus Harding thus

soon had everything ready for setting to work.

The tool, the manufacture of which presented the most difficulty, was

the pipe of the glass-maker, an iron tube, five or six feet long, which

collects on one end the material in a state of fusion. But by means of

a long, thin piece of iron rolled up like the barrel of a gun, Pencroft

succeeded in making a tube soon ready for use.

On the 28th of March the tube was heated. A hundred parts of sand,

thirty-five of chalk, forty of sulphate of soda, mixed with two or three

parts of powdered coal, composed the substance, which was placed in

crucibles. When the high temperature of the oven had reduced it to a

liquid, or rather a pasty state, Cyrus Harding collected with the tube

a quantity of the paste: he turned it about on a metal plate, previously

arranged, so as to give it a form suitable for blowing, then he passed

the tube to Herbert, telling him to blow at the other extremity.

And Herbert, swelling out his cheeks, blew so much and so well into the

tube-taking care to twirl it round at the same time--that his breath

dilated the glassy mass. Other quantities of the substance in a state

of fusion were added to the first, and in a short time the result was a

bubble which measured a foot in diameter. Harding then took the tube

out of Herbert’s hands, and, giving it a pendulous motion, he ended by

lengthening the malleable bubble so as to give it a cylindroconic shape.

The blowing operation had given a cylinder of glass terminated by two

hemispheric caps, which were easily detached by means of a sharp iron

dipped in cold water; then, by the same proceeding, this cylinder was

cut lengthways, and after having been rendered malleable by a second

heating, it was extended on a plate and spread out with a wooden roller.

The first pane was thus manufactured, and they had only to perform this

operation fifty times to have fifty panes. The windows at Granite House

were soon furnished with panes; not very white, perhaps, but still

sufficiently transparent.

As to bottles and tumblers, that was only play. They were satisfied with

them, besides, just as they came from the end of the tube. Pencroft had

asked to be allowed to “blow” in his turn, and it was great fun for

him; but he blew so hard that his productions took the most ridiculous

shapes, which he admired immensely.

Cyrus Harding and Herbert, while hunting one day, had entered the forest

of the Far West, on the left bank of the Mercy, and, as usual, the

lad was asking a thousand questions of the engineer, who answered them

heartily. Now, as Harding was not a sportsman, and as, on the other

side, Herbert was talking chemistry and natural philosophy, numbers of

kangaroos, capybaras, and agouties came within range, which, however,

escaped the lad’s gun; the consequence was that the day was already

advanced, and the two hunters were in danger of having made a

useless excursion, when Herbert, stopping, and uttering a cry of joy,

exclaimed,--

“Oh, Captain Harding, do you see that tree?” and he pointed to a shrub,

rather than a tree, for it was composed of a single stem, covered with a

scaly bark, which bore leaves streaked with little parallel veins.

“And what is this tree which resembles a little palm?” asked Harding.

“It is a ‘cycas revoluta,’ of which I have a picture in our dictionary

of Natural History!” said Herbert.

“But I can’t see any fruit on this shrub!” observed his companion.

“No, captain,” replied Herbert; “but its stem contains a flour with

which nature has provided us all ready ground.”

“It is, then, the bread-tree?”

“Yes, the bread-tree.”

“Well, my boy,” replied the engineer, “this is a valuable discovery,

since our wheat harvest is not yet ripe; I hope that you are not

mistaken!”

Herbert was not mistaken: he broke the stem of a cycas, which was

composed of a glandulous tissue, containing a quantity of floury pith,

traversed with woody fiber, separated by rings of the same substance,

arranged concentrically. With this fecula was mingled a mucilaginous

juice of disagreeable flavor, but which it would be easy to get rid of

by pressure. This cellular substance was regular flour of a superior

quality, extremely nourishing; its exportation was formerly forbidden by

the Japanese laws.

Cyrus Harding and Herbert, after having examined that part of the Far

West where the cycas grew, took their bearings, and returned to Granite

House, where they made known their discovery.

The next day the settlers went to collect some, and returned to Granite

House with an ample supply of cycas stems. The engineer constructed a

press, with which to extract the mucilaginous juice mingled with the

fecula, and he obtained a large quantity of flour, which Neb soon

transformed into cakes and puddings. This was not quite real wheaten

bread, but it was very like it.

Now, too, the onager, the goats, and the sheep in the corral furnished

daily the milk necessary to the colony. The cart, or rather a sort of

light carriole which had replaced it, made frequent journeys to the

corral, and when it was Pencroft’s turn to go he took Jup, and let him

drive, and Jup, cracking his whip, acquitted himself with his customary

intelligence.

Everything prospered, as well in the corral as in Granite House, and

certainly the settlers, if it had not been that they were so far from

their native land, had no reason to complain. They were so well suited

to this life, and were, besides, so accustomed to the island, that they

could not have left its hospitable soil without regret!

And yet so deeply is the love of his country implanted in the heart of

man, that if a ship had unexpectedly come in sight of the island, the

colonists would have made signals, would have attracted her attention,

and would have departed!

It was the 1st of April, a Sunday, Easter Day, which Harding and his

companions sanctified by rest and prayer. The day was fine, such as an

October day in the Northern Hemisphere might be.

All, towards the evening after dinner, were seated under the veranda

on the edge of Prospect Heights, and they were watching the

darkness creeping up from the horizon. Some cups of the infusion of

elder-berries, which took the place of coffee, had been served by Neb.

They were speaking of the island and of its isolated situation in the

Pacific, which led Gideon Spilett to say,--

“My dear Cyrus, have you ever, since you possessed the sextant found in

the case, again taken the position of our island?”

“No,” replied the engineer.

“But it would perhaps be a good thing to do it with this instrument,

which is more perfect than that which you before used.”

“What is the good?” said Pencroft. “The island is quite comfortable

where it is!”

“Well, who knows,” returned the reporter, “who knows but that we may be

much nearer inhabited land than we think?”

“We shall know to-morrow,” replied Cyrus Harding, “and if it had not

been for the occupations which left me no leisure, we should have known

it already.”

“Good!” said Pencroft. “The captain is too good an observer to be

mistaken, and, if it has not moved from its place, the island is just

where he put it.”

“We shall see.”

On the next day, therefore, by means of the sextant, the engineer made

the necessary observations to verify the position which he had

already obtained, and this was the result of his operation. His first

observation had given him the situation of Lincoln Island,--

In west longitude: from 150deg. to 155deg.;

In south latitude: from 30deg. to 35deg.

The second gave exactly:

In longitude: 150deg. 30’

In south latitude: 34deg. 57’

So then, notwithstanding the imperfection of his apparatus, Cyrus

Harding had operated with so much skill that his error did not exceed

five degrees.

“Now,” said Gideon Spilett, “since we possess an atlas as well as a

sextant, let us see, my dear Cyrus, the exact position which Lincoln

Island occupies in the Pacific.”

Herbert fetched the atlas, and the map of the Pacific was opened, and

the engineer, compass in hand, prepared to determine their position.

Suddenly the compasses stopped, and he exclaimed,

“But an island exists in this part of the Pacific already!”

“An island?” cried Pencroft.

“Tabor Island.”

“An important island?”

“No, an islet lost in the Pacific, and which perhaps has never been

visited.”

“Well, we will visit it,” said Pencroft.

“We?”

“Yes, captain. We will build a decked boat, and I will undertake to

steer her. At what distance are we from this Tabor Island?”

“About a hundred and fifty miles to the northeast,” replied Harding.

“A hundred and fifty miles! And what’s that?” returned Pencroft. “In

forty-eight hours, with a good wind, we should sight it!”

And, on this reply, it was decided that a vessel should be constructed

in time to be launched towards the month of next October, on the return

of the fine season.

Chapter 10

When Pencroft had once got a plan in his head, he had no peace till it

was executed. Now he wished to visit Tabor Island, and as a boat of a

certain size was necessary for this voyage, he determined to build one.

What wood should he employ? Elm or fir, both of which abounded in the

island? They decided for the fir, as being easy to work, but which

stands water as well as the elm.

These details settled, it was agreed that since the fine season would

not return before six months, Cyrus Harding and Pencroft should work

alone at the boat. Gideon Spilett and Herbert were to continue to

hunt, and neither Neb nor Master Jup, his assistant, were to leave the

domestic duties which had devolved upon them.

Directly the trees were chosen, they were felled, stripped of their

branches, and sawn into planks as well as sawyers would have been able

to do it. A week after, in the recess between the Chimneys and the

cliff, a dockyard was prepared, and a keel five-and-thirty feet long,

furnished with a stern-post at the stern and a stem at the bows, lay

along the sand.

Cyrus Harding was not working in the dark at this new trade. He knew as

much about ship-building as about nearly everything else, and he had

at first drawn the model of his ship on paper. Besides, he was ably

seconded by Pencroft, who, having worked for several years in a dockyard

in Brooklyn, knew the practical part of the trade. It was not until

after careful calculation and deep thought that the timbers were laid on

the keel.

Pencroft, as may be believed, was all eagerness to carry out his new

enterprise, and would not leave his work for an instant.

A single thing had the honor of drawing him, but for one day only, from

his dockyard. This was the second wheat-harvest, which was gathered in

on the 15th of April. It was as much a success as the first, and yielded

the number of grains which had been predicted.

“Five bushels, captain,” said Pencroft, after having scrupulously

measured his treasure.

“Five bushels,” replied the engineer; “and a hundred and thirty thousand

grains a bushel will make six hundred and fifty thousand grains.”

“Well, we will sow them all this time,” said the sailor, “except a

little in reserve.”

“Yes, Pencroft, and if the next crop gives a proportionate yield, we

shall have four thousand bushels.”

“And shall we eat bread?”

“We shall eat bread.”

“But we must have a mill.

“We will make one.”

The third corn-field was very much larger than the two first, and the

soil, prepared with extreme care, received the precious seed. That done,

Pencroft returned to his work.

During this time Spilett and Herbert hunted in the neighborhood, and

they ventured deep into the still unknown parts of the Far West, their

guns loaded with ball, ready for any dangerous emergency. It was a vast

thicket of magnificent trees, crowded together as if pressed for room.

The exploration of these dense masses of wood was difficult in

the extreme, and the reporter never ventured there without the

pocket-compass, for the sun scarcely pierced through the thick foliage

and it would have been very difficult for them to retrace their way.

It naturally happened that game was more rare in those situations where

there was hardly sufficient room to move; two or three large herbivorous

animals were however killed during the last fortnight of April. These

were koalas, specimens of which the settlers had already seen to the

north of the lake, and which stupidly allowed themselves to be killed

among the thick branches of the trees in which they took refuge. Their

skins were brought back to Granite House, and there, by the help of

sulphuric acid, they were subjected to a sort of tanning process which

rendered them capable of being used.

On the 30th of April, the two sportsmen were in the depth of the Far

West, when the reporter, preceding Herbert a few paces, arrived in

a sort of clearing, into which the trees more sparsely scattered had

permitted a few rays to penetrate. Gideon Spilett was at first surprised

at the odor which exhaled from certain plants with straight stalks,

round and branchy, bearing grape-like clusters of flowers and very small

berries. The reporter broke off one or two of these stalks and returned

to the lad, to whom he said,--

“What can this be, Herbert?”

“Well, Mr. Spilett,” said Herbert, “this is a treasure which will secure

you Pencroft’s gratitude forever.”

“Is it tobacco?”

“Yes, and though it may not be of the first quality, it is none the less

tobacco!”

“Oh, good old Pencroft! Won’t he be pleased! But we must not let him

smoke it all, he must give us our share.”

“Ah! an idea occurs to me, Mr. Spilett,” replied Herbert. “Don’t let us

say anything to Pencroft yet; we will prepare these leaves, and one fine

day we will present him with a pipe already filled!”

“All right, Herbert, and on that day our worthy companion will have

nothing left to wish for in this world.”

The reporter and the lad secured a good store of the precious plant, and

then returned to Granite House, where they smuggled it in with as much

precaution as if Pencroft had been the most vigilant and severe of

custom-house officers.

Cyrus Harding and Neb were taken into confidence, and the sailor

suspected nothing during the whole time, necessarily somewhat long,

which was required in order to dry the small leaves, chop them up, and

subject them to a certain torrefaction on hot stones. This took two

months; but all these manipulations were successfully carried on unknown

to Pencroft, for, occupied with the construction of his boat, he only

returned to Granite House at the hour of rest.

For some days they had observed an enormous animal two or three miles

out in the open sea swimming around Lincoln Island. This was a whale

of the largest size, which apparently belonged to the southern species,

called the “Cape Whale.”

“What a lucky chance it would be if we could capture it!” cried the

sailor. “Ah! if we only had a proper boat and a good harpoon, I would

say ‘After the beast,’ for he would be well worth the trouble of

catching!”

“Well, Pencroft,” observed Harding, “I should much like to watch you

handling a harpoon. It would be very interesting.”

“I am astonished,” said the reporter, “to see a whale in this

comparatively high latitude.”

“Why so, Mr. Spilett?” replied Herbert. “We are exactly in that part of

the Pacific which English and American whalemen call the whale field,

and it is here, between New Zealand and South America, that the whales

of the Southern Hemisphere are met with in the greatest numbers.”

And Pencroft returned to his work, not without uttering a sigh of

regret, for every sailor is a born fisherman, and if the pleasure of

fishing is in exact proportion to the size of the animal, one can judge

how a whaler feels in sight of a whale. And if this had only been for

pleasure! But they could not help feeling how valuable such a prize

would have been to the colony, for the oil, fat, and bones would have

been put to many uses.

Now it happened that this whale appeared to have no wish to leave the

waters of the island. Therefore, whether from the windows of Granite

House, or from Prospect Heights, Herbert and Gideon Spilett, when they

were not hunting, or Neb, unless presiding over his fires, never left

the telescope, but watched all the animal’s movements. The cetacean,

having entered far into Union Bay, made rapid furrows across it from

Mandible Cape to Claw Cape, propelled by its enormously powerful flukes,

on which it supported itself, and making its way through the water

at the rate little short of twelve knots. Sometimes also it

approached so near to the island that it could be clearly distinguished.

It was the southern whale, which is completely black, the head being

more depressed than that of the northern whale.

They could also see it throwing up from its air-holes to a great

height a cloud of vapor, or of water, for, strange as it may appear,

naturalists and whalers are not agreed on this subject. Is it air or is

it water which is thus driven out? It is generally admitted to be vapor,

which, condensing suddenly by contact with the cold air, falls again as

rain.

However, the presence of this mammifer preoccupied the colonists. It

irritated Pencroft especially, as he could think of nothing else while

at work. He ended by longing for it, like a child for a thing which it

has been denied. At night he talked about it in his sleep, and certainly

if he had had the means of attacking it, if the sloop had been in a fit

state to put to sea, he would not have hesitated to set out in pursuit.

But what the colonists could not do for themselves chance did for them,

and on the 3rd of May shouts from Neb, who had stationed himself at the

kitchen window, announced that the whale was stranded on the beach of

the island.

Herbert and Gideon Spilett, who were just about to set out hunting,

left their guns, Pencroft threw down his ax, and Harding and Neb joining

their companions, all rushed towards the scene of action.

The stranding had taken place on the beach of Flotsam Point, three miles

from Granite House, and at high tide. It was therefore probable that the

cetacean would not be able to extricate itself easily; at any rate it

was best to hasten, so as to cut off its retreat if necessary. They ran

with pick-axes and iron-tipped poles in their hands, passed over the

Mercy bridge, descended the right bank of the river, along the beach,

and in less than twenty minutes the settlers were close to the enormous

animal, above which flocks of birds already hovered.

“What a monster!” cried Neb.

And the exclamation was natural, for it was a southern whale, eighty

feet long, a giant of the species, probably not weighing less than a

hundred and fifty thousand pounds!

In the meanwhile, the monster thus stranded did not move, nor attempt by

struggling to regain the water while the tide was still high.

It was dead, and a harpoon was sticking out of its left side.

“There are whalers in these quarters, then?” said Gideon Spilett

directly.

“Oh, Mr. Spilett, that doesn’t prove anything!” replied Pencroft.

“Whales have been known to go thousands of miles with a harpoon in

the side, and this one might even have been struck in the north of the

Atlantic and come to die in the south of the Pacific, and it would be

nothing astonishing.”

Pencroft, having torn the harpoon from the animal’s side, read this

inscription on it:

MARIA STELLA, VINEYARD

“A vessel from the Vineyard! A ship from my country!” he cried. “The

‘Maria Stella!’ A fine whaler, ‘pon my word; I know her well! Oh, my

friends, a vessel from the Vineyard!--a whaler from the Vineyard!”

And the sailor brandishing the harpoon, repeated, not without emotion,

the name which he loved so well--the name of his birthplace.

But as it could not be expected that the “Maria Stella” would come to

reclaim the animal harpooned by her, they resolved to begin cutting it

up before decomposition should commence. The birds, who had watched

this rich prey for several days, had determined to take possession of it

without further delay, and it was necessary to drive them off by firing

at them repeatedly.

The whale was a female, and a large quantity of milk was taken from it,

which, according to the opinion of the naturalist Duffenbach, might pass

for cow’s milk, and, indeed, it differs from it neither in taste, color,

nor density.

Pencroft had formerly served on board a whaling-ship, and he could

methodically direct the operation of cutting up, a sufficiently

disagreeable operation lasting three days, but from which the settlers

did not flinch, not even Gideon Spilett, who, as the sailor said, would

end by making a “real good castaway.”

The blubber, cut in parallel slices of two feet and a half in thickness,

then divided into pieces which might weigh about a thousand pounds each,

was melted down in large earthen pots brought to the spot, for they did

not wish to taint the environs of Granite House, and in this fusion it

lost nearly a third of its weight.

But there was an immense quantity of it; the tongue alone yielded six

thousand pounds of oil, and the lower lip four thousand. Then, besides

the fat, which would insure for a long time a store of stearine and

glycerine, there were still the bones, for which a use could doubtless

be found, although there were neither umbrellas nor stays used at

Granite House. The upper part of the mouth of the cetacean was, indeed,

provided on both sides with eight hundred horny blades, very elastic,

of a fibrous texture, and fringed at the edge like great combs, at which

the teeth, six feet long, served to retain the thousands of animalculae,

little fish, and molluscs, on which the whale fed.

The operation finished, to the great satisfaction of the operators, the

remains of the animal were left to the birds, who would soon make every

vestige of it disappear, and their usual daily occupations were resumed

by the inmates of Granite House.

However, before returning to the dockyard, Cyrus Harding conceived

the idea of fabricating certain machines, which greatly excited the

curiosity of his companions. He took a dozen of the whale’s bones, cut

them into six equal parts, and sharpened their ends.

“This machine is not my own invention, and it is frequently employed

by the Aleutian hunters in Russian America. You see these bones, my

friends; well, when it freezes, I will bend them, and then wet them

with water till they are entirely covered with ice, which will keep them

bent, and I will strew them on the snow, having previously covered them

with fat. Now, what will happen if a hungry animal swallows one of these

baits? Why, the heat of his stomach will melt the ice, and the bone,

springing straight, will pierce him with its sharp points.”

“Well! I do call that ingenious!” said Pencroft.

“And it will spare the powder and shot,” rejoined Cyrus Harding.

“That will be better than traps!” added Neb.

In the meanwhile the boat-building progressed, and towards the end of

the month half the planking was completed. It could already be seen that

her shape was excellent, and that she would sail well.

Pencroft worked with unparalleled ardor, and only a sturdy frame could

have borne such fatigue; but his companions were preparing in secret a

reward for his labors, and on the 31st of May he was to meet with one of

the greatest joys of his life.

On that day, after dinner, just as he was about to leave the table,

Pencroft felt a hand on his shoulder.

It was the hand of Gideon Spilett, who said,--

“One moment, Master Pencroft, you mustn’t sneak off like that! You’ve

forgotten your dessert.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spilett,” replied the sailor, “I am going back to my

work.”

“Well, a cup of coffee, my friend?”

“Nothing more.”

“A pipe, then?”

Pencroft jumped up, and his great good-natured face grew pale when he

saw the reporter presenting him with a ready-filled pipe, and Herbert

with a glowing coal.

The sailor endeavored to speak, but could not get out a word; so,

seizing the pipe, he carried it to his lips, then applying the coal,

he drew five or six great whiffs. A fragrant blue cloud soon arose, and

from its depths a voice was heard repeating excitedly,--

“Tobacco! real tobacco!”

“Yes, Pencroft,” returned Cyrus Harding, “and very good tobacco too!”

“O, divine Providence; sacred Author of all things!” cried the sailor.

“Nothing more is now wanting to our island.”

And Pencroft smoked, and smoked, and smoked.

“And who made this discovery?” he asked at length. “You, Herbert, no

doubt?”

“No, Pencroft, it was Mr. Spilett.”

“Mr. Spilett!” exclaimed the sailor, seizing the reporter, and clasping

him to his breast with such a squeeze that he had never felt anything

like it before.

“Oh Pencroft,” said Spilett, recovering his breath at last, “a truce for

one moment. You must share your gratitude with Herbert, who recognized

the plant, with Cyrus, who prepared it, and with Neb, who took a great

deal of trouble to keep our secret.”

“Well, my friends, I will repay you some day,” replied the sailor. “Now

we are friends for life.”

Chapter 11

Winter arrived with the month of June, which is the December of the

northern zones, and the great business was the making of warm and solid

clothing.

The musmons in the corral had been stripped of their wool, and this

precious textile material was now to be transformed into stuff.

Of course Cyrus Harding, having at his disposal neither carders,

combers, polishers, stretchers, twisters, mule-jenny, nor self-acting

machine to spin the wool, nor loom to weave it, was obliged to proceed

in a simpler way, so as to do without spinning and weaving. And indeed

he proposed to make use of the property which the filaments of wool

possess when subjected to a powerful pressure of mixing together, and of

manufacturing by this simple process the material called felt. This felt

could then be obtained by a simple operation which, if it diminished

the flexibility of the stuff, increased its power of retaining heat in

proportion. Now the wool furnished by the musmons was composed of very

short hairs, and was in a good condition to be felted.

The engineer, aided by his companions, including Pencroft, who was once

more obliged to leave his boat, commenced the preliminary operations,

the subject of which was to rid the wool of that fat and oily substance

with which it is impregnated, and which is called grease. This cleaning

was done in vats filled with water, which was maintained at the

temperature of seventy degrees, and in which the wool was soaked for

four-and-twenty hours; it was then thoroughly washed in baths of soda,

and, when sufficiently dried by pressure, it was in a state to be

compressed, that is to say, to produce a solid material, rough, no

doubt, and such as would have no value in a manufacturing center of

Europe or America, but which would be highly esteemed in the Lincoln

Island markets.

This sort of material must have been known from the most ancient times,

and, in fact, the first woolen stuffs were manufactured by the process

which Harding was now about to employ. Where Harding’s engineering

qualifications now came into play was in the construction of the machine

for pressing the wool; for he knew how to turn ingeniously to profit

the mechanical force, hitherto unused, which the waterfall on the beach

possessed to move a fulling-mill.

Nothing could be more rudimentary. The wool was placed in troughs, and

upon it fell in turns heavy wooden mallets; such was the machine in

question, and such it had been for centuries until the time when the

mallets were replaced by cylinders of compression, and the material was

no longer subjected to beating, but to regular rolling.

The operation, ably directed by Cyrus Harding, was a complete success.

The wool, previously impregnated with a solution of soap, intended on

the one hand to facilitate the interlacing, the compression, and the

softening of the wool, and on the other to prevent its diminution by

the beating, issued from the mill in the shape of thick felt cloth. The

roughnesses with which the staple of wool is naturally filled were so

thoroughly entangled and interlaced together that a material was formed

equally suitable either for garments or bedclothes. It was certainly

neither merino, muslin, cashmere, rep, satin, alpaca, cloth, nor

flannel. It was “Lincolnian felt,” and Lincoln Island possessed yet

another manufacture. The colonists had now warm garments and thick

bedclothes, and they could without fear await the approach of the winter

of 1866-67.

The severe cold began to be felt about the 20th of June, and, to his

great regret, Pencroft was obliged to suspend his boat-building, which

he hoped to finish in time for next spring.

The sailor’s great idea was to make a voyage of discovery to Tabor

Island, although Harding could not approve of a voyage simply for

curiosity’s sake, for there was evidently nothing to be found on this

desert and almost arid rock. A voyage of a hundred and fifty miles in a

comparatively small vessel, over unknown seas, could not but cause him

some anxiety. Suppose that their vessel, once out at sea, should be

unable to reach Tabor Island, and could not return to Lincoln Island,

what would become of her in the midst of the Pacific, so fruitful of

disasters?

Harding often talked over this project with Pencroft, and he found him

strangely bent upon undertaking this voyage, for which determination he

himself could give no sufficient reason.

“Now,” said the engineer one day to him, “I must observe, my friend,

that after having said so much, in praise of Lincoln Island, after

having spoken so often of the sorrow you would feel if you were obliged

to forsake it, you are the first to wish to leave it.”

“Only to leave it for a few days,” replied Pencroft, “only for a few

days, captain. Time to go and come back, and see what that islet is

like!”

“But it is not nearly as good as Lincoln Island.”

“I know that beforehand.”

“Then why venture there?”

“To know what is going on in Tabor Island.”

“But nothing is going on there; nothing could happen there.”

“Who knows?”

“And if you are caught in a hurricane?”

“There is no fear of that in the fine season,” replied Pencroft.

“But, captain, as we must provide against everything, I shall ask your

permission to take Herbert only with me on this voyage.”

“Pencroft,” replied the engineer, placing his hand on the sailor’s

shoulder, “if any misfortune happens to you, or to this lad, whom

chance has made our child, do you think we could ever cease to blame

ourselves?”

“Captain Harding,” replied Pencroft, with unshaken confidence, “we

shall not cause you that sorrow. Besides, we will speak further of this

voyage, when the time comes to make it. And I fancy, when you have seen

our tight-rigged little craft, when you have observed how she behaves at

sea, when we sail round our island, for we will do so together--I fancy,

I say, that you will no longer hesitate to let me go. I don’t conceal

from you that your boat will be a masterpiece.”

“Say ‘our’ boat, at least, Pencroft,” replied the engineer, disarmed for

the moment. The conversation ended thus, to be resumed later on, without

convincing either the sailor or the engineer.

The first snow fell towards the end of the month of June. The corral had

previously been largely supplied with stores, so that daily visits to

it were not requisite; but it was decided that more than a week should

never be allowed to pass without someone going to it.

Traps were again set, and the machines manufactured by Harding were

tried. The bent whalebones, imprisoned in a case of ice, and covered

with a thick outer layer of fat, were placed on the border of the forest

at a spot where animals usually passed on their way to the lake.

To the engineer’s great satisfaction, this invention, copied from the

Aleutian fishermen, succeeded perfectly. A dozen foxes, a few wild

boars, and even a jaguar, were taken in this way, the animals being

found dead, their stomachs pierced by the unbent bones.

An incident must here be related, not only as interesting in itself, but

because it was the first attempt made by the colonists to communicate

with the rest of mankind.

Gideon Spilett had already several times pondered whether to throw into

the sea a letter enclosed in a bottle, which currents might perhaps

carry to an inhabited coast, or to confide it to pigeons.

But how could it be seriously hoped that either pigeons or bottles could

cross the distance of twelve hundred miles which separated the island

from any inhabited land? It would have been pure folly.

But on the 30th of June the capture was effected, not without

difficulty, of an albatross, which a shot from Herbert’s gun had

slightly wounded in the foot. It was a magnificent bird, measuring ten

feet from wing to wing, and which could traverse seas as wide as the

Pacific.

Herbert would have liked to keep this superb bird, as its wound would

soon heal, and he thought he could tame it; but Spilett explained to

him that they should not neglect this opportunity of attempting to

communicate by this messenger with the lands of the Pacific; for if the

albatross had come from some inhabited region, there was no doubt but

that it would return there so soon as it was set free.

Perhaps in his heart Gideon Spilett, in whom the journalist sometimes

came to the surface, was not sorry to have the opportunity of sending

forth to take its chance an exciting article relating the adventures

of the settlers in Lincoln Island. What a success for the authorized

reporter of the New York Herald, and for the number which should contain

the article, if it should ever reach the address of its editor, the

Honorable James Bennett!

Gideon Spilett then wrote out a concise account, which was placed in a

strong waterproof bag, with an earnest request to whoever might find it

to forward it to the office of the New York Herald. This little bag was

fastened to the neck of the albatross, and not to its foot, for these

birds are in the habit of resting on the surface of the sea; then

liberty was given to this swift courier of the air, and it was not

without some emotion that the colonists watched it disappear in the

misty west.

“Where is he going to?” asked Pencroft.

“Towards New Zealand,” replied Herbert.

“A good voyage to you,” shouted the sailor, who himself did not expect

any great result from this mode of correspondence.

With the winter, work had been resumed in the interior of Granite House,

mending clothes and different occupations, among others making the sails

for their vessel, which were cut from the inexhaustible balloon-case.

During the month of July the cold was intense, but there was no lack of

either wood or coal. Cyrus Harding had established a second fireplace in

the dining-room, and there the long winter evenings were spent. Talking

while they worked, reading when the hands remained idle, the time passed

with profit to all.

It was real enjoyment to the settlers when in their room, well lighted

with candles, well warmed with coal, after a good dinner, elderberry

coffee smoking in the cups, the pipes giving forth an odoriferous smoke,

they could hear the storm howling without. Their comfort would have been

complete, if complete comfort could ever exist for those who are far

from their fellow-creatures, and without any means of communication with

them. They often talked of their country, of the friends whom they had

left, of the grandeur of the American Republic, whose influence could

not but increase; and Cyrus Harding, who had been much mixed up with the

affairs of the Union, greatly interested his auditors by his recitals,

his views, and his prognostics.

It chanced one day that Spilett was led to say--

“But now, my dear Cyrus, all this industrial and commercial movement

to which you predict a continual advance, does it not run the danger of

being sooner or later completely stopped?”

“Stopped! And by what?”

“By the want of coal, which may justly be called the most precious of

minerals.”

“Yes, the most precious indeed,” replied the engineer; “and it would

seem that nature wished to prove that it was so by making the diamond,

which is simply pure carbon crystallized.”

“You don’t mean to say, captain,” interrupted Pencroft, “that we burn

diamonds in our stoves in the shape of coal?”

“No, my friend,” replied Harding.

“However,” resumed Gideon Spilett, “you do not deny that some day the

coal will be entirely consumed?”

“Oh! the veins of coal are still considerable, and the hundred

thousand miners who annually extract from them a hundred millions of

hundredweights have not nearly exhausted them.”

“With the increasing consumption of coal,” replied Gideon Spilett, “it

can be foreseen that the hundred thousand workmen will soon become two

hundred thousand, and that the rate of extraction will be doubled.”

“Doubtless; but after the European mines, which will be soon worked more

thoroughly with new machines, the American and Australian mines will for

a long time yet provide for the consumption in trade.”

“For how long a time?” asked the reporter.

“For at least two hundred and fifty or three hundred years.”

“That is reassuring for us, but a bad look-out for our

great-grandchildren!” observed Pencroft.

“They will discover something else,” said Herbert.

“It is to be hoped so,” answered Spilett, “for without coal there would

be no machinery, and without machinery there would be no railways, no

steamers, no manufactories, nothing of that which is indispensable to

modern civilization!”

“But what will they find?” asked Pencroft. “Can you guess, captain?”

“Nearly, my friend.”

“And what will they burn instead of coal?”

“Water,” replied Harding.

“Water!” cried Pencroft, “water as fuel for steamers and engines! water

to heat water!”

“Yes, but water decomposed into its primitive elements,” replied Cyrus

Harding, “and decomposed doubtless, by electricity, which will then have

become a powerful and manageable force, for all great discoveries, by

some inexplicable laws, appear to agree and become complete at the same

time. Yes, my friends, I believe that water will one day be employed

as fuel, that hydrogen and oxygen which constitute it, used singly or

together, will furnish an inexhaustible source of heat and light, of

an intensity of which coal is not capable. Some day the coalrooms of

steamers and the tenders of locomotives will, instead of coal, be stored

with these two condensed gases, which will burn in the furnaces with

enormous calorific power. There is, therefore, nothing to fear. As long

as the earth is inhabited it will supply the wants of its inhabitants,

and there will be no want of either light or heat as long as the

productions of the vegetable, mineral or animal kingdoms do not fail us.

I believe, then, that when the deposits of coal are exhausted we shall

heat and warm ourselves with water. Water will be the coal of the

future.”

“I should like to see that,” observed the sailor.

“You were born too soon, Pencroft,” returned Neb, who only took part in

the discussion by these words.

However, it was not Neb’s speech which interrupted the conversation, but

Top’s barking, which broke out again with that strange intonation which

had before perplexed the engineer. At the same time Top began to run

round the mouth of the well, which opened at the extremity of the

interior passage.

“What can Top be barking in that way for?” asked Pencroft.

“And Jup be growling like that?” added Herbert.

In fact the orang, joining the dog, gave unequivocal signs of agitation,

and, singular to say, the two animals appeared more uneasy than angry.

“It is evident,” said Gideon Spilett, “that this well is in direct

communication with the sea, and that some marine animal comes from time

to time to breathe at the bottom.”

“That’s evident,” replied the sailor, “and there can be no other

explanation to give. Quiet there, Top!” added Pencroft, turning to the

dog, “and you, Jup, be off to your room!”

The ape and the dog were silent. Jup went off to bed, but Top remained

in the room, and continued to utter low growls at intervals during the

rest of the evening. There was no further talk on the subject, but the

incident, however, clouded the brow of the engineer.

During the remainder of the month of July there was alternate rain and

frost. The temperature was not so low as during the preceding winter,

and its maximum did not exceed eight degrees Fahrenheit. But although

this winter was less cold, it was more troubled by storms and squalls;

the sea besides often endangered the safety of the Chimneys. At times

it almost seemed as if an under-current raised these monstrous billows

which thundered against the wall of Granite House.

When the settlers, leaning from their windows, gazed on the huge watery

masses breaking beneath their eyes, they could not but admire the

magnificent spectacle of the ocean in its impotent fury. The waves

rebounded in dazzling foam, the beach entirely disapppearing under the

raging flood, and the cliff appearing to emerge from the sea itself, the

spray rising to a height of more than a hundred feet.

During these storms it was difficult and even dangerous to venture out,

owing to the frequently falling trees; however, the colonists never

allowed a week to pass without having paid a visit to the corral.

Happily, this enclosure, sheltered by the southeastern spur of Mount

Franklin, did not greatly suffer from the violence of the hurricanes,

which spared its trees, sheds, and palisades; but the poultry-yard on

Prospect Heights, being directly exposed to the gusts of wind from the

east, suffered considerable damage. The pigeon-house was twice unroofed

and the paling blown down. All this required to be remade more solidly

than before, for, as may be clearly seen, Lincoln Island was situated in

one of the most dangerous parts of the Pacific. It really appeared as if

it formed the central point of vast cyclones, which beat it perpetually

as the whip does the top, only here it was the top which was motionless

and the whip which moved. During the first week of the month of August

the weather became more moderate, and the atmosphere recovered the calm

which it appeared to have lost forever. With the calm the cold again

became intense, and the thermometer fell to eight degrees Fahrenheit,

below zero.

On the 3rd of August an excursion which had been talked of for several

days was made into the southeastern part of the island, towards Tadorn

Marsh. The hunters were tempted by the aquatic game which took up their

winter quarters there. Wild duck, snipe, teal and grebe abounded there,

and it was agreed that a day should be devoted to an expedition against

these birds.

Not only Gideon Spilett and Herbert, but Pencroft and Neb also took part

in this excursion. Cyrus Harding alone, alleging some work as an excuse,

did not join them, but remained at Granite House.

The hunters proceeded in the direction of Port Balloon, in order to

reach the marsh, after having promised to be back by the evening. Top

and Jup accompanied them. As soon as they had passed over the Mercy

Bridge, the engineer raised it and returned, intending to put into

execution a project for the performance of which he wished to be alone.

Now this project was to minutely explore the interior well, the mouth

of which was on a level with the passage of Granite House, and which

communicated with the sea, since it formerly supplied a way to the

waters of the lake.

Why did Top so often run round this opening? Why did he utter such

strange barks when a sort of uneasiness seemed to draw him towards this

well? Why did Jup join Top in a sort of common anxiety? Had this well

branches besides the communication with the sea? Did it spread towards

other parts of the island? This is what Cyrus Harding wished to know. He

had resolved, therefore, to attempt the exploration of the well during

the absence of his companions, and an opportunity for doing so had now

presented itself.

It was easy to descend to the bottom of the well by employing the rope

ladder which had not been used since the establishment of the lift. The

engineer drew the ladder to the hole, the diameter of which measured

nearly six feet, and allowed it to unroll itself after having securely

fastened its upper extremity. Then, having lighted a lantern, taken a

revolver, and placed a cutlass in his belt, he began the descent.

The sides were everywhere entire; but points of rock jutted out here and

there, and by means of these points it would have been quite possible

for an active creature to climb to the mouth of the well.

The engineer remarked this; but although he carefully examined these

points by the light of his lantern, he could find no impression, no

fracture which could give any reason to suppose that they had either

recently or at any former time been used as a staircase. Cyrus Harding

descended deeper, throwing the light of his lantern on all sides.