are cured we shall see if the cowards, who strike us from behind, will
dare to meet us face to face!"
"I am still very weak, my poor Pencroft!"
"Well! your strength will return gradually! What's a ball through the
chest? Nothing but a joke! I've seen many, and I don't think much of
them!"
At last things appeared to be going on well, and if no complication
occurred, Herbert's recovery might be regarded as certain. But what
would have been the condition of the colonists if his state had been
aggravated,--if, for example, the ball had remained in his body, if his
arm or his leg had had to be amputated?
"No," said Spilett more than once, "I have never thought of such a
contingency without shuddering!"
"And yet, if it had been necessary to operate," said Harding one day to
him, "you would not have hesitated?"
"No, Cyrus!" said Gideon Spilett, "but thank God that we have been
spared this complication!"
As in so many other conjectures, the colonists had appealed to the logic
of that simple good sense of which they had made use so often, and once
more, thanks to their general knowledge, it had succeeded! But might
not a time come when all their science would be at fault? They were
alone on the island. Now, men in all states of society are necessary to
each other. Cyrus Harding knew this well, and sometimes he asked
himself if some circumstance might not occur which they would be
powerless to surmount. It appeared to him besides, that he and his
companions, till then so fortunate, had entered into an unlucky period.
During the three years and a half which had elapsed since their escape
from Richmond, it might be said that they had had everything their own
way. The island had abundantly supplied them with minerals, vegetables,
animals, and as Nature had constantly loaded them, their science had
known how to take advantage of what she offered them.
The well-being of the colony was therefore complete. Moreover, in
certain occurrences an inexplicable influence had come to their aid! ...
But all that could only be for a time.
In short, Cyrus Harding believed that fortune had turned against them.
In fact, the convicts' ship had appeared in the waters of the island,
and if the pirates had been, so to speak, miraculously destroyed, six of
them, at least, had escaped the catastrophe. They had disembarked on
the island, and it was almost impossible to get at the five who
survived. Ayrton had no doubt been murdered by these wretches, who
possessed fire-arms, and at the first use that they had made of them,
Herbert had fallen, wounded almost mortally. Were these the first blows
aimed by adverse fortune at the colonists? This was often asked by
Harding. This was often repeated by the reporter; and it appeared to
him also that the intervention, so strange, yet so efficacious, which
till then had served them so well, had now failed them. Had this
mysterious being, whatever he was, whose existence could not be denied,
abandoned the island? Had he in his turn succumbed?
No reply was possible to these questions. But it must not be imagined
that because Harding and his companion spoke of these things, they were
men to despair. Far from that. They looked their situation in the
face, they analysed the chances, they prepared themselves for any event,
they stood firm and straight before the future, and if adversity was at
last to strike them, it would find in them men prepared to struggle
against it.
CHAPTER NINE.
NO NEWS OF NEB--A PROPOSAL FROM PENCROFT AND THE REPORTER, WHICH IS NOT
ACCEPTED--SEVERAL SORTIES BY GIDEON SPILETT--A RAG OF CLOTH--A MESSAGE--
HASTY DEPARTURE--ARRIVAL ON THE PLATEAU OF PROSPECT HEIGHTS.
The convalescence of the young invalid was regularly progressing. One
thing only was now to be desired, that his state would allow him to be
brought to Granite House. However well built and supplied the corral
house was, it could not be so comfortable as the healthy granite
dwelling. Besides, it did not offer the same security, and its tenants,
notwithstanding their watchfulness, were here always in fear of some
shot from the convicts. There, on the contrary, in the middle of that
impregnable and inaccessible cliff, they would have nothing to fear, and
any attack on their persons would certainly fail. They therefore waited
impatiently for the moment when Herbert might be moved without danger
from his wound, and they were determined to make this move, although the
communication through Jacamar Wood was very difficult.
They had no news from Neb, but were not uneasy on that account. The
courageous negro, well intrenched in the depths of Granite House, would
not allow himself to be surprised. Top had not been sent again to him,
as it appeared useless to expose the faithful dog to some shot which
might deprive the settlers of their most useful auxiliary.
They waited, therefore, although they were anxious to be reunited at
Granite House. It pained the engineer to see his forces divided, for it
gave great advantage to the pirates. Since Ayrton's disappearance they
were only four against five, for Herbert could not yet be counted, and
this was not the least care of the brave boy, who well understood the
trouble of which he was the cause.
The question of knowing how, in their condition, they were to act
against the pirates, was thoroughly discussed on the 29th of November by
Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, and Pencroft, at a moment when Herbert
was asleep and could not hear them.
"My friends," said the reporter, after they had talked of Neb and of the
impossibility of communicating with him, "I think, like you, that to
venture on the road to the corral would be to risk receiving a gun-shot
without being able to return it. But do you not think that the best
thing to be done now is to openly give chase to these wretches?"
"That is just what I was thinking," answered Pencroft. "I believe we're
not fellows to be afraid of a bullet, and as for me, if Captain Harding
approves, I'm ready to dash into the forest! Why, hang it, one man is
equal to another!"
"But is he equal to five?" asked the engineer.
"I will join Pencroft," said the reporter, "and both of us, well-armed
and accompanied by Top--"
"My dear Spilett, and you, Pencroft," answered Harding, "let us reason
coolly. If the convicts were hid in one spot of the island, if we knew
that spot, and had only to dislodge them, I would undertake a direct
attack; but is there not occasion to fear, on the contrary, that they
are sure to fire the first shot."
"Well, captain," cried Pencroft, "a bullet does not always reach its
mark."
"That which struck Herbert did not miss, Pencroft," replied the
engineer. "Besides, observe that if both of you left the corral I
should remain here alone to defend it. Do you imagine that the convicts
will not see you leave it, that they will not allow you to enter the
forest, and that they will not attack it during your absence, knowing
that there is no one here but a wounded boy and a man?"
"You are right, captain," replied Pencroft, his chest swelling with
sullen anger. "You are right; they will do all they can to retake the
corral, which they know to be well stored; and alone you could not hold
it against them."
"Oh, if we were only at Granite House!"
"If we were at Granite House," answered the engineer, "the case would be
very different. There I should not be afraid to leave Herbert with one,
whilst the other three went to search the forests of the island. But we
are at the corral, and it is best to stay here until we can leave it
together."
Cyrus Harding's reasoning was unanswerable, and his companions
understood it well.
"If only Ayrton was still one of us!" said Gideon Spilett. "Poor
fellow! his return to social life will have been but of short duration."
"If he is dead," added Pencroft, in a peculiar tone.
"Do you hope, then, Pencroft, that the villains have spared him?" asked
Gideon Spilett.
"Yes, if they had any interest in doing so."
"What! you suppose that Ayrton, finding his old companions, forgetting
all that he owes us--"
"Who knows?" answered the sailor, who did not hazard this shameful
supposition without hesitating.
"Pencroft," said Harding, taking the sailor's arm, "that is a wicked
idea of yours, and you will distress me much if you persist in speaking
thus. I will answer for Ayrton's fidelity."
"And I also," added the reporter quickly.
"Yes, yes, captain, I was wrong," replied Pencroft; "it was a wicked
idea indeed that I had, and nothing justifies it. But what can I do?
I'm not in my senses. This imprisonment in the corral wearies me
horribly, and I have never felt so excited as I do now."
"Be patient, Pencroft," replied the engineer. "How long will it be, my
dear Spilett, before you think Herbert may be carried to Granite House?"
"That is difficult to say, Cyrus," answered the reporter, "for any
imprudence might involve terrible consequences. But his convalescence
is progressing, and if he continues to gain strength, in eight days from
now--well, we shall see."
Eight days! That would put off the return to Granite House until the
first days of December. At this time two months of spring had already
passed. The weather was fine, and the heat began to be great. The
forests of the island were in full leaf, and the time was approaching
when the usual crops ought to be gathered. The return to the plateau of
Prospect Heights would, therefore, be followed by extensive agricultural
labours, interrupted only by the projected expedition through the
island.
It can, therefore, be well understood how injurious this seclusion in
the corral must be to the colonists.
But if they were compelled to bow before necessity, they did not do so
without impatience.
Once or twice the reporter ventured out into the road and made the tour
of the palisade. Top accompanied him, and Gideon Spilett, his gun
cocked, was ready for any emergency.
He met with no misadventure and found no suspicious traces. His dog
would have warned him of any danger, and, as Top did not bark, it might
be concluded that there was nothing to fear at that moment at least, and
that the convicts were occupied in another part of the island.
However, on his second sortie, on the 27th of November, Gideon Spilett,
who had ventured a quarter of a mile into the wood, towards the south of
the mountains, remarked that Top scented something. The dog had no
longer his unconcerned manner; he went backwards and forwards, ferreting
amongst the grass and bushes as if his smell had revealed some
suspicious object to him.
Gideon Spilett followed Top, encouraged him, excited him by his voice,
whilst keeping a sharp look-out, his gun ready to fire, and sheltering
himself behind the trees. It was not probable that Top scented the
presence of man, for in that case, he would have announced it by
half-uttered, sullen, angry barks. Now, as he did not growl, it was
because danger was neither near nor approaching.
Nearly five minutes passed thus, Top rummaging, the reporter following
him prudently, when, all at once, the dog rushed towards a thick bush,
and drew out a rag.
It was a piece of cloth, stained and torn, which Spilett immediately
brought back to the corral. There it was examined by the colonists, who
found that it was a fragment of Ayrton's waistcoat, a piece of that
felt, manufactured solely by the Granite House factory.
"You see, Pencroft," observed Harding, "there has been resistance on the
part of the unfortunate Ayrton. The convicts have dragged him away in
spite of himself! Do you still doubt his honesty?"
"No, captain," answered the sailor, "and I repented of my suspicion a
long time ago! But it seems to me that something may be learned from
the incident."
"What is that?" asked the reporter.
"It is that Ayrton was not killed at the corral! That they dragged him
away living, since he has resisted. Therefore, perhaps, he is still
living!"
"Perhaps, indeed," replied the engineer, who remained thoughtful.
This was a hope, to which Ayrton's companions could still hold. Indeed,
they had before believed that, surprised in the corral, Ayrton had
fallen by a bullet, as Herbert had fallen. But if the convicts had not
killed him at first, if they had brought him living to another part of
the island, might it not be admitted that he was still their prisoner?
Perhaps, even, one of them had found in Ayrton his old Australian
companion Ben Joyce, the chief of the escaped convicts. And who knows
but that they had conceived the impossible hope of bringing back Ayrton
to themselves? He would have been very useful to them, if they had been
able to make him turn traitor!
This incident was, therefore, favourably interpreted at the corral, and
it no longer appeared impossible that they should find Ayrton again. On
his side, if he was only a prisoner, Ayrton would no doubt do all he
could to escape from the hands of the villains, and this would be a
powerful aid to the settlers!
"At any rate," observed Gideon Spilett, "if happily Ayrton did manage to
escape, he would go directly to Granite House, for he could not know of
the attempt of assassination of which Herbert has been a victim, and
consequently would never think of our being imprisoned in the corral!"
"Oh! I wish that he was there, at Granite House!" cried Pencroft, "and
that we were there, too! For, although the rascals can do nothing to
our house, they may plunder the plateau, our plantations, our
poultry-yard!"
Pencroft had become a thorough farmer, heartily attached to his crops.
But it must be said that Herbert was more anxious than any to return to
Granite House, for he knew how much the presence of the settlers was
needed there. And it was he who was keeping them at the corral!
Therefore, one idea occupied his mind--to leave the corral, and when!
He believed he could bear removal to Granite House. He was sure his
strength would return more quickly in his room, with the air and sight
of the sea!
Several times he pressed Gideon Spilett, but the latter, fearing, with
good reason, that Herbert's wounds, half healed, might reopen on the
way, did not give the order to start.
However, something occurred which compelled Cyrus Harding and his two
friends to yield to the lad's wish, and God alone knew that this
determination might cause them grief and remorse.
It was the 29th of November, seven o'clock in the evening. The three
settlers were talking in Herbert's room, when they heard Top utter quick
barks.
Harding, Pencroft, and Spilett seized their guns and ran out of the
house. Top, at the foot of the palisade, was jumping, barking, but it
was with pleasure, not anger.
"Some one is coming."
"Yes."
"It is not an enemy!"
"Neb, perhaps?"
"Or Ayrton?"
These words had hardly been exchanged between the engineer and his two
companions when a body leapt over the palisade and fell on the ground
inside the corral.
It was Tup, Master Jup in person, to whom Top immediately gave a most
cordial reception.
"Jup!" exclaimed Pencroft.
"Neb has sent him to us," said the reporter.
"Then," replied the engineer, "he must have some note on him."
Pencroft rushed up to the orang. Certainly if Neb had any important
matter to communicate to his master he could not employ a more sure or
more rapid messenger, who could pass where neither the colonists could,
nor even Top himself.
Cyrus Harding was not mistaken. At Jup's neck hung a small bag, and in
this bag was found a little note traced by Neb's hand.
The despair of Harding and his companions may be imagined when they read
these words:--
"Friday, six o'clock in the morning.
"Plateau invaded by convicts.
"Neb."
They gazed at each other without uttering a word, then they re-entered
the house. What were they to do? The convicts on Prospect Heights!
that was disaster, devastation, ruin.
Herbert, on seeing the engineer, the reporter, and Pencroft re-enter,
guessed that their situation was aggravated, and when he saw Jup, he no
longer doubted that some misfortune menaced Granite House.
"Captain Harding," said he, "I must go; I can bear the journey. I must
go."
Gideon Spilett approached Herbert; then, having looked at him--
"Let us go, then!" said he.
The question was quickly decided whether Herbert should be carried on a
litter or in the cart which had brought Ayrton to the corral. The
motion of the litter would have been more easy for the wounded lad, but
it would have necessitated two bearers, that is to say, there would have
been two guns less for defence if an attack was made on the road. Would
they not, on the contrary, by employing the cart leave every arm free?
Was it impossible to place the mattress on which Herbert was lying in
it, and to advance with so much care than any jolt should be avoided?
It could be done.
The cart was brought. Pencroft harnessed the onaga. Cyrus Harding and
the reporter raised Herbert's mattress and placed it on the bottom of
the cart. The weather was fine. The sun's bright rays glanced through
the trees.
"Are the guns ready?" asked Cyrus Harding.
They were. The engineer and Pencroft, each armed with a
double-barrelled gun, and Gideon Spilett carrying his rifle, had nothing
to do but start.
"Are you comfortable, Herbert?" asked the engineer.
"Ah, captain," replied the lad, "don't be uneasy, I shall not die on the
road!"
Whilst speaking thus, it could be seen that the poor boy had called up
all his energy, and by the energy of a powerful will had collected his
failing strength.
The engineer felt his heart sink painfully. He still hesitated to give
the signal for departure; but that would have driven Herbert to
despair--killed him perhaps.
"Forward!" said Harding.
The gate of the corral was opened. Jup and Top, who knew when to be
silent, ran in advance. The cart came out, the gate was reclosed, and
the onaga, led by Pencroft, advanced at a slow pace.
Certainly, it would have been safer to have taken a different road than
that which led straight from the corral to Granite House, but the cart
would have met with great difficulties in moving under the trees. It
was necessary, therefore, to follow this way, although it was well-known
to the convicts.
Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett walked one on each side of the cart,
ready to answer to any attack. However, it was not probable that the
convicts would have yet left the plateau of Prospect Heights.
Neb's note had evidently been written and sent as soon as the convicts
had shown themselves there. Now, this note was dated six o'clock in the
morning, and the active orang, accustomed to come frequently to the
corral, had taken scarcely three quarters of an hour to cross the five
miles which separated it from Granite House. They would, therefore, be
safe at that time, and if there was any occasion for firing, it would
probably not be until they were in the neighbourhood of Granite House.
However, the colonists kept a strict watch. Top and Jup, the latter
armed with his club, sometimes in front, sometimes beating the wood at
the sides of the road, signalised no danger.
The cart advanced slowly under Pencroft's guidance. It had left the
corral at half-past seven. An hour after four out of the five miles had
been cleared, without any incident having occurred. The road was as
deserted as all that part of the Jacamar Wood which lay between the
Mercy and the lake. There was no occasion for any warning. The wood
appeared as deserted as on the day when the colonists first landed on
the island.
They approached the plateau. Another mile and they would see the bridge
over Creek Glycerine. Cyrus Harding expected to find it in its place;
supposing that the convicts; would have crossed it, and that, after
having passed one of the streams which enclosed the plateau, they would
have taken the precaution to lower it again, so as to keep open a
retreat.
At length an opening in the trees allowed the sea-horizon to be seen.
But the cart continued its progress, for not one of its defenders
thought of abandoning it.
At that moment Pencroft stopped the onaga, and in a hoarse voice--
"Oh! the villains!" he exclaimed.
And he pointed to a thick smoke rising from the mill, the sheds, and the
buildings at the poultry-yard.
A man was moving about in the midst of the smoke. It was Neb.
His companions uttered a shout. He heard, and ran to meet them.
The convicts had left the plateau nearly half-an-hour before, having
devastated it!
"And Mr Herbert?" asked Neb.
Gideon Spilett returned to the cart.
Herbert had lost consciousness!
CHAPTER TEN.
HERBERT CARRIED TO GRANITE HOUSE--NEB RELATES ALL THAT HAS HAPPENED--
HARDING'S VISIT TO THE PLATEAU--RUIN AND DEVASTATION--THE COLONISTS
BAFFLED BY HERBERT'S ILLNESS--WILLOW BARK--A DEADLY FEVER--TOP BARKS
AGAIN!
Of the convicts, the dangers which menaced Granite House, the ruins with
which the plateau was covered, the colonists thought no longer.
Herbert's critical state outweighed all other considerations. Would the
removal prove fatal to him by causing some internal injury? The
reporter could not affirm it, but he and his companions almost despaired
of the result. The cart was brought to the bend of the river. There
some branches, disposed as a litter, received the mattress on which lay
the unconscious Herbert. Ten minutes after, Cyrus Harding, Spilett, and
Pencroft were at the foot of the cliff, leaving Neb to take the cart
onto the plateau of Prospect Heights. The lift was put in motion, and
Herbert was soon stretched on his bed in Granite House.
What cares were lavished on him to bring him back to life! He smiled
for a moment on finding himself in his room, but could scarcely even
murmur a few words, so great was his weakness. Gideon Spilett examined
his wounds. He feared to find them reopened, having been imperfectly
healed. There was nothing of the sort. From whence, then, came this
prostration? Why was Herbert so much worse? The lad then fell into a
kind of feverish sleep, and the reporter and Pencroft remained near the
bed. During this time, Harding told Neb all that had happened at the
corral, and Neb recounted to his master the events of which the plateau
had just been the theatre.
It was only during the preceding night that the convicts had appeared on
the edge of the forest, at the approaches to Creek Glycerine. Neb, who
was watching near the poultry-yard, had not hesitated to fire at one of
the pirates, who was about to cross the stream; but in the darkness he
could not tell whether the man had been hit or not. At any rate, it was
not enough to frighten away the band, and Neb had only just time to get
up to Granite House, where at least he was in safety.
But what was he to do there? How prevent the devastations with which
the convicts threatened the plateau? Had Neb any means by which to warn
his master? And, besides, in what situation were the inhabitants of the
corral themselves? Cyrus Harding and his companions had left on the
11th of November, and it was now the 29th. It was, therefore, nineteen
days since Neb had had other news than that brought by Top--disastrous
news: Ayrton disappeared, Herbert severely wounded, the engineer,
reporter, and sailor, as it were, imprisoned in the corral!
What was he to do? asked poor Neb. Personally he had nothing to fear,
for the convicts could not reach him in Granite House. But the
buildings, the plantations, all their arrangements at the mercy of the
pirates! Would it not be best to let Cyrus Harding judge of what he
ought to do, and to warn him, at least, of the danger which threatened
him?
Neb then thought of employing Jup, and confiding a note to him. He knew
the orang's great intelligence, which had been often put to the proof.
Jup understood the word corral, which had been frequently pronounced
before him, and it may be remembered, too, that he had often driven the
cart thither in company with Pencroft. Day had not yet dawned. The
active orang would know how to pass unperceived through the woods, of
which the convicts, besides, would think he was a native.
Neb did not hesitate. He wrote the note, he tied it to Jup's neck, he
brought the ape to the door of Granite House, from which he let down a
long cord to the ground; then, several times, he repeated these words--
"Jup, Jup! corral, corral!"
The creature understood, seized the cord, glided rapidly down to the
beach, and disappeared in the darkness without the convicts' attention
having been in the least excited.
"You did well, Neb," said Harding; "but perhaps in not warning us you
would have done still better!"
And, in speaking thus, Cyrus Harding thought of Herbert, whose recovery
the removal had so seriously checked.
Neb ended his account. The convicts had not appeared at all on the
beach. Not knowing the number of the island's inhabitants, they might
suppose that Granite House was defended by a large party. They must
have remembered that during the attack by the brig numerous shot had
been fired both from the lower and upper rocks, and no doubt they did
not wish to expose themselves. But the plateau of Prospect Heights was
open to them, and not covered by the fire of Granite House. They gave
themselves up, therefore, to their instinct of destruction,--plundering,
burning, devastating everything,--and only retiring half an hour before
the arrival of the colonists, whom they believed still confined in the
corral.
On their retreat, Neb hurried out. He climbed the plateau at the risk
of being perceived and fired at, tried to extinguish the fire which was
consuming the buildings of the poultry-yard, and had struggled, though
in vain, against it until the cart appeared at the edge of the wood.
Such had been these serious events. The presence of the convicts
constituted a permanent source of danger to the settlers in Lincoln
Island, until then so happy, and who might now expect still greater
misfortunes.
Spilett remained in Granite House with Herbert and Pencroft, while Cyrus
Harding, accompanied by Neb, proceeded to judge for himself of the
extent of the disaster.
It was fortunate that the convicts had not advanced to the foot of
Granite House. The workshop at the Chimneys would in that case not have
escaped destruction. But after all, this evil would have been more
easily reparable than the ruins accumulated on the plateau of Prospect
Heights. Harding and Neb proceeded towards the Mercy, and ascended its
left bank without meeting with any trace of the convicts; nor on the
other side of the river, in the depths of the wood, could they perceive
any suspicious indications.
Besides, it might be supposed that in all probability either the
convicts knew of the return of the settlers to Granite House, by having
seen them pass on the road from the corral, or, after the devastation of
the plateau, they had penetrated into Jacamar Wood, following the course
of the Mercy, and were thus ignorant of their return.
In the former case, they must have returned towards the corral, now
without defenders, and which contained valuable stores.
In the latter, they must have regained their encampment, and would wait
an opportunity to recommence the attack.
It was, therefore, possible to prevent them, but any enterprise to clear
the island was now rendered difficult by reason of Herbert's condition.
Indeed, their whole force would have been barely sufficient to cope with
the convicts, and just now no one could leave Granite House.
The engineer and Neb arrived on the plateau. Desolation reigned
everywhere. The fields had been trampled over; the ears of wheat, which
were nearly full grown, lay on the ground. The other plantations had
not suffered less.
The kitchen-garden was destroyed. Happily, Granite House possessed a
store of seed which would enable them to repair these misfortunes.
As to the wall and buildings of the poultry-yard and the onagas' stable,
the fire had destroyed all. A few terrified creatures roamed over the
plateau. The birds, which during the fire had taken refuge on the
waters of the lake, had already returned to their accustomed spot, and
were dabbling on the banks. Everything would have to be reconstructed.
Cyrus Harding's face, which was paler than usual, expressed an internal
anger which he commanded with difficulty, but he did not utter a word.
Once more he looked at his devastated fields, and at the smoke which
still rose from the ruins, then he returned to Granite House.
The following days were the saddest of any that the colonists had passed
on the island! Herbert's weakness visibly increased. It appeared that
a more serious malady, the consequence of the profound physiological
disturbance he had gone through, threatened to declare itself, and
Gideon Spilett feared such an aggravation of his condition that he would
be powerless to fight against it!
In fact, Herbert remained in an almost continuous state of drowsiness,
and symptoms of delirium began to manifest themselves. Refreshing
drinks were the only remedies at the colonists' disposal. The fever was
not as yet very high, but it soon appeared that it would probably recur
at regular intervals. Gideon Spilett first recognised this on the 6th
of December.
The poor boy, whose fingers, nose, and ears had become extremely pale,
was at first seized with slight shiverings, horripilations, and
tremblings. His pulse was weak and irregular, his skin dry, his thirst
intense. To this soon succeeded a hot fit; his face became flushed; his
skin reddened; his pulse quick; then a profuse perspiration broke out,
after which the fever seemed to diminish. The attack had lasted nearly
five hours.
Gideon Spilett had not left Herbert, who, it was only too certain was
now seized by an intermittent fever, and this fever must, be cured at
any cost before it should assume a more serious aspect.
"And in order to cure it," said Spilett to Cyrus Harding, "we need a
febrifuge."
"A febrifuge," answered the engineer. "We have neither Peruvian bark,
nor sulphate of quinine?"
"No," said Gideon Spilett, "but there are willows on the border of the
lake, and the bark of the willow might, perhaps, prove to be a
substitute for quinine."
"Let us try it without losing a moment," replied Cyrus Harding.
The bark of the willow has, indeed, been justly considered as
a succedaneum for Peruvian bark, as has also that of the
horse-chestnut-tree, the leaf of the holly, the snake-root, etcetera.
It was evidently necessary to make trial of this substance, although not
so valuable as Peruvian bark, and to employ it in its natural state,
since they had no means for extracting its essence.
Cyrus Harding went himself to cut from the trunk of a species of black
willow, a few pieces of bark; he brought them back to Granite House, and
reduced them to a powder, which was administered that same evening to
Herbert.
The night passed without any important change. Herbert was somewhat
delirious, but the fever did not reappear in the night, and did not
return either during the following day.
Pencroft again began to hope. Gideon Spilett said nothing. It might be
that the fever was not quotidian, but tertian, and that it would return
next day. Therefore, he awaited the next day with the greatest anxiety.
It might have been remarked besides that during this period Herbert
remained utterly prostrate, his head weak and giddy. Another symptom
alarmed the reporter to the highest degree. Herbert's liver became
congested, and soon a more intense delirium showed that his brain was
also affected.
Gideon Spilett was overwhelmed by this new complication. He took the
engineer aside.
"It is a malignant fever," said he.
"A malignant fever!" cried Harding. "You are mistaken, Spilett. A
malignant fever does not declare itself spontaneously; its germ must
previously have existed."
"I am not mistaken," replied the reporter. "Herbert no doubt contracted
the germ of this fever in the marshes of the island. He has already had
one attack; should a second come on and should we not be able to prevent
a third, he is lost."
"But the willow bark?"
"That is insufficient," answered the reporter; "and the third attack of
a malignant fever, which is not arrested by means of quinine, is always
fatal."
Fortunately, Pencroft heard nothing of this conversation or he would
have gone mad.
It may be imagined what anxiety the engineer and the reporter suffered
during the day of the 7th of December and the following night.
Towards the middle of the day the second attack came on. The crisis was
terrible. Herbert felt himself sinking. He stretched his arms towards
Cyrus Harding, towards Spilett, towards Pencroft. He was so young to
die! The scene was heartrending. They were obliged to send Pencroft
away.
The fit lasted five hours. It was evident that Herbert could not
survive a third.
The night was frightful. In his delirium Herbert uttered words which
went to the hearts of his companions. He struggled with the convicts,
he called to Ayrton, he poured forth entreaties to that mysterious
being,--that powerful unknown protector,--whose image was stamped upon
his mind; then he again fell into a deep exhaustion which completely
prostrated him. Several times Gideon Spilett thought that the poor boy
was dead.
The next day, the 8th of December, was but a succession of the fainting
fits. Herbert's thin hands clutched the sheets. They had administered
further doses of pounded bark, but the reporter expected no result from
it.
"If before to-morrow morning we have not given him a more energetic
febrifuge," said the reporter, "Herbert will be dead."
Night arrived--the last night, it was too much to be feared, of the
good, brave, intelligent boy, so far in advance of his years, and who
was loved by all as their own child. The only remedy which existed
against this terrible malignant fever, the only specific which could
overcome it, was not to be found in Lincoln Island.
During the night of the 8th of December, Herbert was seized by a more
violent delirium. His liver was fearfully congested, his brain
affected, and already it was impossible for him to recognise any one.
Would he live until the next day, until that third attack which must
infallibly carry him off? It was not probable. His strength was
exhausted, and in the intervals of fever he lay as one dead.
Towards three o'clock in the morning Herbert uttered a piercing cry. He
seemed to be torn by a supreme convulsion. Neb, who was near him,
terrified, ran into the next room where his companions were watching.
Top, at that moment, barked in a strange manner.
All rushed in immediately and managed to restrain the dying boy, who was
endeavouring to throw himself out of his bed, whilst Spilett, taking his
arm, felt his pulse gradually quicken.
It was five in the morning. The rays of the rising sun began to shine
in at the windows of Granite House. It promised to be a fine day, and
this day was to be poor Herbert's last!
A ray glanced on the table placed near the bed.
Suddenly Pencroft, uttering a cry, pointed to the table.
On it lay a little oblong box, of which the cover bore these words:--
"Sulphate of Quinine."
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
INEXPLICABLE MYSTERY--HERBERT'S CONVALESCENCE--THE PARTS OF THE ISLAND
TO BE EXPLORED--PREPARATIONS FOR DEPARTURE--FIRST DAY--NIGHT--SECOND
DAY--KAURIES--A COUPLE OF CASSOWARIES--FOOTPRINTS IN THE FOREST--ARRIVAL
AT REPTILE POINT.
Gideon Spilett took the box and opened it. It contained nearly two
hundred grains of a white powder, a few particles of which he carried to
his lips. The extreme bitterness of the substance precluded all doubt;
it was certainly the precious extract of quinine, that pre-eminent
antifebrile.
This powder must be administered to Herbert without delay. How it came
there might be discussed later.
"Some coffee!" said Spilett.
In a few moments Neb brought a cup of the warm infusion. Gideon Spilett
threw into it about eighteen grains of quinine, and they succeeded in
making Herbert drink the mixture.
There was still time, for the third attack of the malignant fever had
not yet shown itself. How they longed to be able to add that it would
not return!
Besides, it must be remarked, the hopes of all had now revived. The
mysterious influence had been again exerted, and in a critical moment,
when they had despaired of it.
In a few hours Herbert was much calmer. The colonists could now discuss
this incident. The intervention of the stranger was more evident than
ever. But how had he been able to penetrate during the night into
Granite House? It was inexplicable, and, in truth, the proceedings of
the genius of the island were not less mysterious than was that genius
himself. During this day the sulphate of quinine was administered to
Herbert every three hours.
The next day some improvement in Herbert's condition was apparent.
Certainly, he was not out of danger, intermittent fevers being subject
to frequent and dangerous relapses, but the most assiduous care was
bestowed on him. And besides, the specific was at hand; nor, doubtless,
was he who had brought it far-distant! and the hearts of all were
animated by returning hope.
This hope was not disappointed. Ten days after, on the 20th of
December, Herbert's convalescence commenced.
He was still weak, and strict diet had been imposed upon him, but no
access of fever supervened. And then, the poor boy submitted with such
docility to all the prescriptions ordered him! He longed so to get
well!
Pencroft was as a man who has been drawn up from the bottom of an abyss.
Fits of joy approaching to delirium seized him. When the time for the
third attack had passed by, he nearly suffocated the reporter in his
embrace. Since then, he always called him Dr Spilett.
The real doctor, however, remained undiscovered.
"We will find him!" repeated the sailor.
Certainly, this man, whoever he was, might expect a somewhat too
energetic embrace from the worthy Pencroft!
The month of December ended, and with it the year 1867, during which the
colonists of Lincoln Island had of late been so severely tried. They
commenced the year 1868 with magnificent weather, great heat, and a
tropical temperature, delightfully cooled by the sea-breeze. Herbert's
recovery progressed, and from his bed, placed near one of the windows of
Granite House, he could inhale the fresh air, charged with ozone, which
could not fail to restore his health. His appetite returned, and what
numberless delicate, savoury little dishes Neb prepared for him!
"It is enough to make one wish to have a fever oneself!" said Pencroft.
During all this time, the convicts did not once appear in the vicinity
of Granite House. There was no news of Ayrton, and though the engineer
and Herbert still had some hopes of finding him again, their companions
did not doubt but that the unfortunate man had perished. However, this
uncertainty could not last, and when once the lad should have recovered,
the expedition, the result of which must be so important, would be
undertaken. But they would have to wait a month, perhaps, for all the
strength of the colony must be put into requisition to obtain
satisfaction from the convicts.
However, Herbert's convalescence progressed rapidly. The congestion of
the liver had disappeared, and his wounds might be considered completely
healed.
During the month of January, important work was done on the plateau of
Prospect Heights; but it consisted solely in saving as much as was
possible from the devastated crops, either of corn or vegetables. The
grain and the plants were gathered, so as to provide a new harvest for
the approaching half-season. With regard to rebuilding the
poultry-yard, wall, or stables, Cyrus Harding preferred to wait. Whilst
he and his companions were in pursuit of the convicts, the latter might
very probably pay another visit to the plateau, and it would be useless
to give them an opportunity of recommencing their work of destruction.
When the island should be cleared of these miscreants, they would set
about rebuilding. The young convalescent began to get up in the second
week of January, at first for one hour a day, then two, then three. His
strength visibly returned, so vigorous was his constitution. He was now
eighteen years of age. He was tall, and promised to become a man of
noble and commanding presence. From this time his recovery, while still
requiring care,--and Dr Spilett was very strict,--made rapid; progress.
Towards the end of the month, Herbert was already walking about on
Prospect Heights, and the beach.
He derived, from several sea-baths, which he took in company with
Pencroft and Neb, the greatest possible benefit. Cyrus Harding thought
he might now settle the day for their departure, for which the 15th of
February was fixed. The nights, very clear at this time of year, would
be favourable to the researches they intended to make all over the
island.
The necessary preparations for this exploration were now commenced, and
were important, for the colonists had sworn not to return to Granite
House until their twofold object had been achieved; on the one hand, to
exterminate the convicts, and rescue Ayrton, if he was still living; on
the other, to discover who it was that presided so effectually over the
fortunes of the colony.
Of Lincoln Island, the settlers knew thoroughly all the eastern coast
from Claw Cape to the Mandible Capes, the extensive Tadorn Marsh, the
neighbourhood of Lake Grant, Jacamar Wood, between the road to the
corral and the Mercy, the courses of the Mercy and Red Creek, and
lastly, the spurs of Mount Franklin, among which the corral had been
established.
They had explored, though only in an imperfect manner, the vast shore of
Washington Bay from Claw Cape to Reptile End, the woody and marshy
border of the west coast, and the interminable downs, ending at the open
mouth of Shark Gulf. But they had in no way surveyed the woods which
covered the Serpentine Peninsula, all to the right of the Mercy, the
left bank of Falls River, and the wilderness of spurs and valleys which
supported three quarters of the base of Mount Franklin, to the east, the
north, and the west, and where doubtless many secret retreats existed.
Consequently, many millions of acres of the island had still escaped
their investigations.
It was, therefore, decided that the expedition should be carried through
the Far West, so as to include all that region situated on the right of
the Mercy.
It might, perhaps, be better worth while to go direct to the corral,
where it might be supposed that the convicts had again taken refuge,
either to pillage or to establish themselves there. But either the
devastation of the corral would have been an accomplished fact by this
time, and it would be too late to prevent it; or it had been the
convicts' interest to intrench themselves there, and there would be
still time to go and turn them out on their return.
Therefore, after some discussion, the first plan was adhered to, and the
settlers resolved to proceed through the wood to Reptile End. They
would make their way with their hatchets, and thus lay the first draft
of a road which would place Granite House in communication with the end
of the peninsula for a length of from sixteen to seventeen miles.
The cart was in good condition. The onagas, well rested, could go a
long journey. Provisions, camp effects, a portable stove, and various
utensils were packed in the cart, as also weapons and ammunition,
carefully chosen from the now complete arsenal of Granite House. But it
was necessary to remember that the convicts were, perhaps, roaming about
the woods, and that in the midst of these thick forests a shot might
quickly be fired and received. It was therefore resolved that the
little band of settlers should remain together and not separate under
any pretext whatever.
It was also decided that no one should remain at Granite House. Top and
Jup themselves were to accompany the expedition; the inaccessible
dwelling needed no guard. The 14th of February, eve of the departure,
was Sunday. It was consecrated entirely to repose, and thanksgivings
addressed by the colonists to the Creator. A place in the cart was
reserved for Herbert, who, though thoroughly convalescent, was still a
little weak. The next morning, at daybreak, Cyrus Harding took the
necessary measures to protect Granite House from any invasion. The
ladders, which were formerly used for the ascent, were brought to the
Chimneys and buried deep in the sand, so that they might be available on
the return of the colonists, for the machinery of the lift had been
taken to pieces, and nothing of the apparatus remained. Pencroft stayed
the last in Granite House in order to finish this work, and he then
lowered himself down by means of a double rope held below, and which,
when once hauled down, left no communication between the upper landing
and the beach.
The weather was magnificent.
"We shall have a warm day of it," said the reporter, laughing.
"Pooh! Dr Spilett," answered Pencroft, "we shall walk under the shade
of the trees and shan't even see the sun!"
"Forward!" said the engineer.
The cart was waiting on the beach before the Chimneys. The reporter
made Herbert take his place in it during the first hours at least of the
journey, and the lad was obliged to submit to his doctor's orders.
Neb placed himself at the onagas' heads. Cyrus Harding, the reporter,
and the sailor, walked in front. Top bounded joyfully along. Herbert
offered a seat in his vehicle to Jup, who accepted it without ceremony.
The moment for departure had arrived, and the little band set out.
The cart first turned the angle of the mouth of the Mercy, then, having
ascended the left bank for a mile, crossed the bridge, at the other side
of which commenced the road to Port Balloon and there the explorers,
leaving this road on their left, entered the cover of the immense woods
which formed the region of the Far West.
For the first two miles the widely-scattered trees allowed the cart to
pass with ease; from time to time it became necessary to cut away a few
creepers and bushes, but no serious obstacle impeded the progress of the
colonists.
The thick foliage of the trees threw a grateful shade on the ground.
Deodars, douglas-firs, casuarinas, banksias, gum-trees, dragon-trees,
and other well-known species, succeeded each other far as the eye could
reach. The feathered tribes of the island were all represented--tetras,
jacamars, pheasants, lories, as well as the chattering cockatoos,
parrots, and paroquets. Agouties, kangaroos, and capybaras fled swiftly
at their approach; and all this reminded the settlers of the first
excursions they had made on their arrival at the island.
"Nevertheless," observed Cyrus Harding, "I notice that these creatures,
both birds and quadrupeds, are more timid than formerly. These woods
have, therefore, been recently traversed by the convicts, and we shall
certainly find some traces of them."
And, in fact, in several places they could distinguish traces, more or
less recent, of the passage of a band of men--here branches broken off
the trees, perhaps to mark out the way; there the ashes of a fire, and
footprints in clayey spots; but nothing which appeared to belong to a
settled encampment.
The engineer had recommended his companions to refrain from hunting.
The reports of the fire-arms might give the alarm to the convicts, who
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