without, the influence and supremacy in Asia of the United Kingdom would
have been a thing of the past.
The name of Prince Dakkar was at that time well-known. He had fought
openly and without concealment. A price was set upon his head, but he
managed to escape from his pursuers.
Civilisation never recedes; the law of necessity ever forces it onwards.
The sepoys were vanquished, and the land of the rajahs of old fell
again under the rule of England.
Prince Dakkar, unable to find that death he courted, returned to the
mountain fastnesses of Bundelkund. There, alone in the world, overcome
by disappointment at the destruction of all his vain hopes, a prey to
profound disgust for all human beings, filled with hatred of the
civilised world, he realised the wreck of his fortune, assembled some
score of his most faithful companions, and one day disappeared, leaving
no trace behind.
Where, then, did he seek that liberty denied him upon the inhabited
earth? Under the waves, in the depths of the ocean, where none could
follow.
The warrior became the man of science. Upon a deserted island of the
Pacific he established his dockyard, and there a submarine vessel was
constructed from his designs. By methods which will at some future day
be revealed he had rendered subservient the illimitable forces of
electricity, which, extracted from inexhaustible sources, was employed
for all the requirements of his floating equipage, as a moving,
lighting, and heating agent. The sea, with its countless treasures, its
myriads of fish, its numberless wrecks, its enormous mammalia, and not
only all that nature supplied, but also all that man had lost in its
depths, sufficed for every want of the prince and his crew--and thus was
his most ardent desire accomplished, never again to hold communication
with the earth. He named his submarine vessel the -Nautilus-, called
himself simply Captain Nemo, and disappeared beneath the seas.
During many years this strange being visited every ocean, from pole to
pole. Outcast of the inhabited earth in these unknown worlds he
gathered incalculable treasures. The millions lost in the Bay of Vigo,
in 1702, by the galleons of Spain, furnished him with a mine of
inexhaustible riches which he devoted always, anonymously, in favour of
those nations who fought for the independence of their country. [See
Note 2.]
For long, however, he had held no communication with his
fellow-creatures, when, during the night of the 6th of November, 1866,
three men were cast on board his vessel. They were a French professor,
his servant, and a Canadian fisherman. These three men had been hurled
overboard by a collision which had taken place between the -Nautilus-
and the United States frigate -Abraham Lincoln-, which had chased her.
Captain Nemo learnt from this professor that the -Nautilus-, taken now
for a gigantic mammal of the whale species, now for a submarine vessel
carrying a crew of pirates, was sought for in every sea.
He might have returned these three men to the ocean, from whence chance
had brought them in contact with his mysterious existence. Instead of
doing this he kept them prisoners, and during seven months they were
enabled to behold all the wonders of a voyage of twenty thousand leagues
under the sea.
One day, the 22nd of June, 1867, these three men, who knew nothing of
the past history of Captain Nemo, succeeded in escaping in one of the
-Nautilus's- boats. But as at this time the -Nautilus- was drawn into
the vortex of the Maelstrom, off the coast of Norway, the captain
naturally believed that the fugitives, engulfed in that frightful
whirlpool, found their death at the bottom of the abyss. He was
ignorant that the Frenchman and his two companions had been miraculously
cast on shore, that the fishermen of the Loffoden Islands had rendered
them assistance, and that the professor, on his return to France, had
published that work in which seven months of the strange and eventful
navigation of the -Nautilus- were narrated and exposed to the curiosity
of the public.
For a long time after this, Captain Nemo continued to live thus,
traversing every sea. But one by one his companions died, and found
their last resting-place in their cemetery of coral, in the bed of the
Pacific. At last Captain Nemo remained the solitary survivor of all
those who had taken refuge with him in the depths of the ocean.
He was now sixty years of age. Although alone, he succeeded in
navigating the -Nautilus- towards one of those submarine caverns which
had sometimes served him as a harbour.
One of these ports was hollowed beneath Lincoln Island, and at this
moment furnished an asylum to the -Nautilus-.
The captain had now remained there six years, navigating the ocean no
longer, but awaiting death, and that moment when he should rejoin his
former companions, when by chance he observed the descent of the balloon
which carried the prisoners of the Confederates. Clad in his
diving-dress he was walking beneath the water at a few cables' length
from the shore of the island, when the engineer had been thrown into the
sea. Moved by a feeling of compassion the captain saved Cyrus Harding.
His first impulse was to fly from the vicinity of the five castaways;
but his harbour of refuge was closed, for in consequence of an elevation
of the basalt, produced by the influence of volcanic action, he could no
longer pass through the entrance of the vault. Though there was
sufficient depth of water to allow a light craft to pass the bar, there
was not enough for the -Nautilus-, whose draught of water was
considerable.
Captain Nemo was compelled, therefore, to remain. He observed these men
thrown without resources upon a desert island, but had no wish to be
himself discovered by them. By degrees he became interested in their
efforts when he saw them honest, energetic, and bound to each other by
the ties of friendship. As if despite his wishes, he penetrated all the
secrets of their existence. By means of the diving-dress he could
easily reach the well in the interior of Granite House, and climbing by
the projections of rock to its upper orifice he heard the colonists as
they recounted the past, and studied the present and future. He learnt
from them the tremendous conflict of America with America itself, for
the abolition of slavery. Yes, these men were worthy to reconcile
Captain Nemo with that humanity which they represented so nobly in the
island.
Captain Nemo had saved Cyrus Harding. It was he also who had brought
back the dog to the Chimneys, who rescued Top from the waters of the
lake, who caused to fall at Flotsam Point the case containing so many
things useful to the colonists, who conveyed the canoe back into the
stream of the Mercy, who cast the cord from the top of Granite House at
the time of the attack by the baboons, who made known the presence of
Ayrton upon Tabor Island, by means of the document enclosed in the
bottle, who caused the explosion of the brig by the shock of a torpedo
placed at the bottom of the canal, who saved Herbert from a certain
death by bringing the sulphate of quinine; and finally, it was he who
had killed the convicts with the electric balls, of which he possessed
the secret, and which he employed in the chase of submarine creatures.
Thus were explained so many apparently supernatural occurrences, and
which all proved the generosity and power of the captain.
Nevertheless, this noble misanthrope longed to benefit his -proteges-
still further. There yet remained much useful advice to give them, and,
his heart being softened by the approach of death, he invited, as we are
aware, the colonists of Granite House to visit the -Nautilus-, by means
of a wire which connected it with the corral. Possibly he would not
have done this had he been aware that Cyrus Harding was sufficiently
acquainted with his history to address him by the name of Nemo.
The captain concluded the narrative of his life. Cyrus Harding then
spoke; he recalled all the incidents which had exercised so beneficent
an influence upon the colony, and in the names of his companions and
himself thanked the generous being to whom they owed so much.
But Captain Nemo paid little attention; his mind appeared to be absorbed
by one idea, and without taking the proffered hand of the engineer--
"Now, sir," said he, "now that you know my history, your judgment!"
In saying this, the captain evidently alluded to an important incident
witnessed by the three strangers thrown on board his vessel, and which
the French professor had related in his work, causing a profound and
terrible sensation. Some days previous to the flight of the professor
and his two companions, the -Nautilus-, being chased by a frigate in the
north of the Atlantic, had hurled herself as a ram upon this frigate,
and sunk her without mercy.
Cyrus Harding understood the captain's allusion, and was silent.
"It was an enemy's frigate," exclaimed Captain Nemo, transformed for an
instant into the Prince Dakkar, "an enemy's frigate! It was she who
attacked me--I was in a narrow and shallow bay--the frigate barred my
way--and I sank her!"
A few moments of silence ensued; then the captain demanded--
"What think you of my life, gentlemen?"
Cyrus Harding extended his hand to the ci-devant prince and replied
gravely, "Sir, your error was in supposing that the past can be
resuscitated, and in contending against inevitable progress. It is one
of those errors which some admire, others blame; which God alone can
judge. He who is mistaken in an action which he sincerely believes to
be right may be an enemy, but retains our esteem. Your error is one
that we may admire, and your name has nothing to fear from the judgment
of history, which does not condemn heroic folly, but its results."
The old man's breast swelled with emotion, and raising his hand to
heaven--
"Was I wrong, or in the right?" he murmured.
Cyrus Harding replied, "All great actions return to God, from whom they
are derived. Captain Nemo, we, whom you have succoured, shall ever
mourn your loss."
Herbert, who had drawn near the captain, fell on his knees and kissed
his hand.
A tear glistened in the eyes of the dying man. "My child," he said,
"may God bless you!"
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Note 1. The history of Captain Nemo has, in fact, been published under
the title of -Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea-. Here, therefore,
will apply the observation already made as to the adventures of Ayrton
with regard to the discrepancy of dates. Readers should therefore refer
to the note already published on this point.
Note 2. This refers to the insurrection of the Candiotes, who were, in
fact largely assisted by Captain Nemo.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
LAST MOMENTS OF CAPTAIN NEMO--WISHES OF THE DYING MAN--A PARTING GIFT TO
HIS FRIENDS OF A DAY--CAPTAIN NEMO'S COFFIN--ADVICE TO THE COLONISTS--
THE SUPREME MOMENT--AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA.
Day had returned. No ray of light penetrated into the profundity of the
cavern. It being high-water, the entrance was closed by the sea. But
the artificial light, which escaped in long streams from the skylights
of the -Nautilus-, was as vivid as before, and the sheet of water shone
around the floating vessel.
An extreme exhaustion now overcame Captain Nemo, who had fallen back
upon the divan. It was useless to contemplate removing him to Granite
House, for he had expressed his wish to remain in the midst of those
marvels of the -Nautilus- which millions could not have purchased, and
to await there for that death which was swiftly approaching.
During a long interval of prostration, which rendered him almost
unconscious, Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett attentively observed the
condition of the dying man. It was apparent that his strength was
gradually diminishing. That frame, once so robust, was now but the
fragile tenement of a departing soul. All of life was concentrated in
the heart and head.
The engineer and reporter consulted in whispers. Was it possible to
render any aid to the dying man? Might his life, if not saved, be
prolonged for some days? He himself had said that no remedy could
avail, and he awaited with tranquillity that death which had for him no
terrors.
"We can do nothing," said Gideon Spilett.
"But of what is he dying?" asked Pencroft.
"Life is simply fading out," replied the reporter.
"Nevertheless," said the sailor, "if we moved him into the open air, and
the light of the sun, he might perhaps recover."
"No, Pencroft," answered the engineer, "it is useless to attempt it.
Besides, Captain Nemo would never consent to leave his vessel. He has
lived for a dozen years on board the -Nautilus-, and on board the
-Nautilus- he desires to die."
Without doubt Captain Nemo heard Cyrus Harding's reply, for he raised
himself slightly, and in a voice more feeble, but always intelligible--
"You are right, sir," he said. "I shall die here--it is my wish; and
therefore I have a request to make of you."
Cyrus Harding and his companions had drawn near the divan, and now
arranged the cushions in such a manner as to better support the dying
man.
They saw his eyes wander over all the marvels of this saloon, lighted by
the electric rays which fell from the arabesques of the luminous
ceiling. He surveyed, one after the other, the pictures hanging from
the splendid tapestries of the partitions, the -chef-d'oeuvres- of the
Italian, Flemish, French, and Spanish masters; the statues of marble and
bronze on their pedestals; the magnificent organ, leaning against the
after-partition; the aquarium, in which bloomed the most wonderful
productions of the sea--marine plants, zoophytes, chaplets of pearls of
inestimable value; and, finally, his eyes rested on this device,
inscribed over the pediment of the museum--the motto of the -Nautilus---
"-Mobilis in mobile-."
His glance seemed to rest fondly for the last time on these masterpieces
of art and of nature, to which he had limited his horizon during a
sojourn of so many years in the abysses of the seas.
Cyrus Harding respected the captain's silence, and waited till he should
speak.
After some minutes, during which, doubtless, he passed in review his
whole life, Captain Nemo turned to the colonists and said--
"You consider yourselves, gentlemen, under some obligations to me?"
"Captain, believe us that we would give our lives to prolong yours."
"Promise, then," continued Captain Nemo, "to carry out my last wishes,
and I shall be repaid for all I have done for you."
"We promise," said Cyrus Harding.
And by this promise he bound both himself and his companions.
"Gentlemen," resumed the captain, "to-morrow I shall be dead."
Herbert was about to utter an exclamation, but a sign from the captain
arrested him.
"To-morrow I shall die, and I desire no other tomb than the -Nautilus-.
It is my grave! All my friends repose in the depths of the ocean; their
resting-place shall be mine."
These words were received with profound silence.
"Pay attention to my wishes," he continued. "The -Nautilus- is
imprisoned in this grotto, the entrance of which is blocked up; but,
although egress is impossible, the vessel may at least sink in the
abyss, and there bury my remains."
The colonists listened reverently to the words of the dying man.
"To-morrow, after my death, Mr Harding," continued the captain,
"yourself and companions will leave the -Nautilus-, for all the
treasures it contains must perish with me. One token alone will remain
with you of Prince Dakkar, with whose history you are now acquainted.
That coffer yonder contains diamonds of the value of many millions, most
of them mementoes of the time when, husband and father, I thought
happiness possible for me, and a collection of pearls gathered by my
friends and myself in the depths of the ocean. Of this treasure, at a
future day, you may make good use. In the hands of such men as yourself
and your comrades, Captain Harding, money will never be a source of
danger. From on high I shall still participate in your enterprises, and
I fear not but that they will prosper."
After a few moments' repose, necessitated by his extreme weakness,
Captain Nemo continued--
"To-morrow you will take the coffer, you will leave the saloon, of which
you will close the door; then you will ascend onto the deck of the
-Nautilus-, and you will lower the main-hatch so as entirely to close
the vessel."
"It shall be done, captain," answered Cyrus Harding.
"Good. You will then embark in the canoe which brought you hither; but,
before leaving the -Nautilus-, go to the stern and there open two large
stop-cocks which you will find upon the water-line. The water will
penetrate into the reservoirs, and the -Nautilus- will gradually sink
beneath the water to repose at the bottom of the abyss."
And, comprehending a gesture of Cyrus Harding, the captain added--
"Fear nothing! You will but bury a corpse!"
Neither Cyrus Harding nor his companions ventured to offer any
observation to Captain Nemo. He had expressed his last wishes, and they
had nothing to do but to conform to them.
"I have your promise, gentlemen?" added Captain Nemo.
"You have, captain," replied the engineer.
The captain thanked the colonists by a sign, and requested them to leave
him for some hours. Gideon Spilett wished to remain near him, in the
event of a crisis coming on, but the dying man refused, saying, "I shall
live until to-morrow, sir."
All left the saloon, passed through the library and the dining-room, and
arrived forward, in the machine-room, where the electrical apparatus was
established, which supplied not only heat and light but the mechanical
power of the -Nautilus-.
The -Nautilus- was a masterpiece, containing masterpieces within itself,
and the engineer was struck with astonishment.
The colonists mounted the platform, which rose seven or eight feet above
the water. There they beheld a thick glass lenticular covering, which
protected a kind of large eye, from which flashed forth light. Behind
this eye was apparently a cabin containing the wheels of the rudder, and
in which was stationed the helmsman, when he navigated the -Nautilus-
over the bed of the ocean, which the electric rays would evidently light
up to a considerable distance.
Cyrus Harding and his companions remained for a time silent, for they
were vividly impressed by what they had just seen and heard, and their
hearts were deeply touched by the thought that he whose arm had so often
aided them, the protector whom they had known but a few hours, was at
the point of death.
Whatever might be the judgment pronounced by posterity upon the events
of this, so to speak, extra-human existence, the character of Prince
Dakkar would ever remain as one of those whose memory time can never
efface.
"What a man!" said Pencroft. "Is it possible that he can have lived at
the bottom of the sea? And it seems to me that perhaps he has not found
peace there any more than elsewhere."
"The -Nautilus-," observed Ayrton, "might have enabled us to leave
Lincoln Island and reach some inhabited country."
"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Pencroft, "I for one would never risk myself
in such a craft. To sail on the seas, good; but under the seas, never!"
"I believe, Pencroft," answered the reporter, "that the navigation of a
submarine vessel such as the -Nautilus- ought to be very easy, and that
we should soon become accustomed to it. There would be no storms, no
lee-shore to fear. At some feet beneath the surface the waters of the
ocean are as calm as those of a lake."
"That may be," replied the sailor, "but I prefer a gale of wind on board
a well-found craft. A vessel is built to sail on the sea, and not
beneath it."
"My friends," said the engineer, "it is useless, at any rate as regards
the -Nautilus-, to discuss the question of submarine vessels. The
-Nautilus- is not ours, and we have not the right to dispose of it.
Moreover, we could in no case avail ourselves of it. Independently of
the fact that it would be impossible to get it out of this cavern, whose
entrance is now closed by the uprising of the basaltic rocks, Captain
Nemo's wish is that it shall be buried with him. His wish is our law,
and we will fulfil it."
After a somewhat prolonged conversation, Cyrus Harding and his
companions again descended to the interior of the -Nautilus-. There
they took some refreshment and returned to the saloon.
Captain Nemo had somewhat rallied from the prostration which had
overcome him, and his eyes shone with their wonted fire. A faint smile
even curled his lips.
The colonists drew around him.
"Gentlemen," said the captain, "you are brave and honest men. You have
devoted yourselves to the common weal. Often have I observed your
conduct. I have esteemed you--I esteem you still! Your hand, Mr
Harding!"
Cyrus Harding gave his hand to the captain, who clasped it
affectionately.
"It is well!" he murmured.
He resumed--
"But enough of myself. I have to speak concerning yourselves, and this
Lincoln Island, upon which you have taken refuge. You desire to leave
it?"
"To return, captain!" answered Pencroft quickly.
"To return, Pencroft?" said the captain, with a smile. "I know, it is
true, your love for this island. You have helped to make it what it now
is, and it seems to you a paradise!"
"Our project, captain," interposed Cyrus Harding, "is to annex it to the
United States, and to establish for our shipping a port so fortunately
situated in this part of the Pacific."
"Your thoughts are with your country, gentlemen," continued the captain;
"your toils are for her prosperity and glory. You are right. One's
native land!--there should one live! there die! And I! I die far from
all I loved!"
"You have some last wish to transmit," said the engineer with emotion,
"some souvenir to send to those friends you have left in the mountains
of India?"
"No, Captain Harding; no friends remain to me! I am the last of my
race, and to all whom I have known I have long been as are the dead.--
But to return to yourselves. Solitude, isolation, are painful things,
and beyond human endurance. I die of having thought it possible to live
alone! You should, therefore, dare all in the attempt to leave Lincoln
Island, and see once more the land of your birth. I am aware that those
wretches have destroyed the vessel you had built."
"We propose to construct a vessel," said Gideon Spilett, "sufficiently
large to convey us to the nearest land; but if we should succeed, sooner
or later we shall return to Lincoln Island. We are attached to it by
too many recollections ever to forget it."
"It is here that we have known Captain Nemo," said Cyrus Harding.
"It is here only that we can make our home!" added Herbert.
"And here shall I sleep the sleep of eternity, if--" replied the
captain.
He paused for a moment, and, instead of completing the sentence, said
simply--
"Mr Harding, I wish to speak with you--alone!"
The engineer's companions, respecting the wish of the dying man,
retired.
Cyrus Harding remained but a few minutes alone with Captain Nemo, and
soon recalled his companions; but he said nothing to them of the private
matters which the dying man had confided to him.
Gideon Spilett now watched the captain with extreme care. It was
evident that he was no longer sustained by his moral energy, which had
lost the power of reaction against his physical weakness.
The day closed without change. The colonists did not quit the
-Nautilus- for a moment. Night arrived, although it was impossible to
distinguish it from day in the cavern.
Captain Nemo suffered no pain, but he was visibly sinking. His noble
features, paled by the approach of death, were perfectly calm.
Inaudible words escaped at intervals from his lips, bearing upon various
incidents of his chequered career. Life was evidently ebbing slowly,
and his extremities were already cold.
Once or twice more he spoke to the colonists who stood around him, and
smiled on them with that last smile which continues after death.
At length, shortly after midnight, Captain Nemo by a supreme effort
succeeded in folding his arms across his breast, as if wishing in that
attitude to compose himself for death.
By one o'clock his glance alone showed signs of life. A dying light
gleamed in those eyes once so brilliant. Then, murmuring the words,
"God and my country!" he quietly expired.
Cyrus Harding, bending low, closed the eyes of him who had once been the
Prince Dakkar, and was now not even Captain Nemo.
Herbert and Pencroft sobbed aloud. Tears fell from Ayrton's eyes. Neb
was on his knees by the reporter's side, motionless as a statue.
Then Cyrus Harding, extending his hand over the forehead of the dead,
said solemnly--
"May his soul be with God! Let us pray!"
Some hours later the colonists fulfilled the promise made to the captain
by carrying out his dying wishes.
Cyrus Harding and his companions quitted the -Nautilus-, taking with
them the only memento left them by their benefactor, that coffer which
contained wealth amounting to millions.
The marvellous saloon, still flooded with light, had been carefully
closed. The iron door leading on deck was then securely fastened in
such a manner as to prevent even a drop of water from penetrating to the
interior of the -Nautilus-.
The colonists then descended into the canoe, which was moored to the
side of the submarine vessel.
The canoe was now brought round to the stern. There, at the water-line,
were two large stop-cocks, communicating with the reservoirs employed in
the submersion of the vessel.
The stop-cocks were opened, the reservoirs filled, and the -Nautilus-,
slowly sinking, disappeared beneath the surface of the lake.
But the colonists were yet able to follow its descent through the waves.
The powerful light it gave forth lighted up the translucent water,
while the cavern became gradually obscure. At length this vast effusion
of electric light faded away, and soon after the -Nautilus-, now the
tomb of Captain Nemo, reposed in its ocean bed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
REFLECTIONS OF THE COLONISTS--THEIR LABOURS OF RECONSTRUCTION RESUMED--
THE 1ST OF JANUARY 1869--A CLOUD OVER THE SUMMIT OF THE VOLCANO--FIRST
WARNINGS OF AN ERUPTION--AYRTON AND CYRUS HARDING AT THE CORRAL--
EXPLORATION OF THE DAKKAR GROTTO--WHAT CAPTAIN NEMO HAD CONFIDED TO THE
ENGINEER.
At break of day the colonists regained in silence the entrance of the
cavern, to which they gave the name of "Dakkar Grotto," in memory of
Captain Nemo. It was now low-water, and they passed without difficulty
under the arcade, washed on the right by the sea.
The canoe was left here, carefully protected from the waves. As an
excess of precaution, Pencroft, Neb, and Ayrton drew it up on a little
beach which bordered one of the sides of the grotto, in a spot where it
could run no risk of harm.
The storm had ceased during the night. The last low mutterings of the
thunder died away in the west. Rain fell no longer, but the sky was yet
obscured by clouds. On the whole, this month of October, the first of
the southern spring, was not ushered in by satisfactory tokens, and the
wind had a tendency to shift from one point of the compass to another,
which rendered it impossible to count upon settled weather.
Cyrus Harding and his companions, on leaving Dakkar Grotto, had taken
the road to the corral. On their way Neb and Herbert were careful to
preserve the wire which had been laid down by the captain between the
corral and the grotto, and which might at a future time be of service.
The colonists spoke but little on the road. The various incidents of
the night of the 15th October had left a profound impression on their
minds. The unknown being whose influence had so effectually protected
them, the man whom their imagination had endowed with supernatural
powers, Captain Nemo, was no more. His -Nautilus- and he were buried in
the depths of the abyss. To each one of them their existence seemed
even more isolated than before. They had been accustomed to count upon
the intervention of that power which existed no longer, and Gideon
Spilett, and even Cyrus Harding, could not escape this impression. Thus
they maintained a profound silence during their journey to the corral.
Towards nine in the morning the colonists arrived at Granite House.
It had been agreed that the construction of the vessel should be
actively pushed forward, and Cyrus Harding more than ever devoted his
time and labour to this object. It was impossible to divine what future
lay before them. Evidently the advantage to the colonists would be
great of having at their disposal a substantial vessel, capable of
keeping the sea even in heavy weather, and large enough to attempt, in
case of need, a voyage of some duration. Even if, when their vessel
should be completed, the colonists should not resolve to leave Lincoln
Island as yet, in order to gain either one of the Polynesian
archipelagos of the Pacific or the shores of New Zealand, they might at
least, sooner or later, proceed to Tabor Island, to leave there the
notice relating to Ayrton. This was a precaution rendered indispensable
by the possibility of the Scotch yacht reappearing in those seas, and it
was of the highest importance that nothing should be neglected on this
point.
The works were then resumed. Cyrus Harding, Pencroft, and Ayrton,
assisted by Neb, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert, except when unavoidably
called off by other necessary occupations, worked without cessation. It
was important that the new vessel should be ready in five months--that
is to say, by the beginning of March--if they wished to visit Tabor
Island before the equinoctial gales rendered the voyage impracticable.
Therefore the carpenters lost not a moment. Moreover, it was
unnecessary to manufacture rigging, that of the -Speedy- having been
saved entire, so that the hull only of the vessel needed to be
constructed.
The end of the year 1868 found them occupied by these important labours,
to the exclusion of almost all others. At the expiration of two months
and a half the ribs had been set up and the first planks adjusted. It
was already evident that the plans made by Cyrus Harding were admirable,
and that the vessel would behave well at sea.
Pencroft brought to the task a devouring energy, and scrupled not to
grumble when one or the other abandoned the carpenter's axe for the gun
of the hunter. It was nevertheless necessary to keep up the stores of
Granite House, in view of the approaching winter. But this did not
satisfy Pencroft. The brave honest sailor was not content when the
workmen were not at the dockyard. When this happened he grumbled
vigorously, and, by way of venting his feelings, did the work of six
men.
The weather was very unfavourable during the whole of the summer season.
For some days the heat was overpowering, and the atmosphere, saturated
with electricity, was only cleared by violent storms. It was rarely
that the distant growling of the thunder could not be heard, like a low
but incessant murmur, such as is produced in the equatorial regions of
the globe.
The 1st of January, 1869, was signalised by a storm of extreme violence,
and the thunder burst several times over the island. Large trees were
struck by the electric fluid and shattered, and among others one of
those gigantic micocouliers which shaded the poultry-yard at the
southern extremity of the lake. Had this meteor any relation to the
phenomena going on in the bowels of the earth? Was there any connection
between the commotion of the atmosphere and that of the interior of the
earth? Cyrus Harding was inclined to think that such was the case, for
the development of these storms was attended by the renewal of volcanic
symptoms.
It was on the 3rd of January that Herbert, having ascended at daybreak
to the plateau of Prospect Heights to harness one of the onagas,
perceived an enormous hat-shaped cloud rolling from the summit of the
volcano.
Herbert immediately apprised the colonists, who at once joined him in
watching the summit of Mount Franklin.
"Ah!" exclaimed Pencroft, "those are not vapours this time! It seems to
me that the giant is not content with breathing; he must smoke!"
This figure of speech employed by the sailor exactly expressed the
changes going on at the mouth of the volcano. Already for three months
had the crater emitted vapours more or less dense, but which were as yet
produced only by an internal ebullition of mineral substances. But now
the vapours were replaced by a thick smoke, rising in the form of a
greyish column, more than three hundred feet in width at its base, and
which spread like an immense mushroom to a height of from seven to eight
hundred feet above the summit of the mountain.
"The fire is in the chimney," observed Gideon Spilett.
"And we can't put it out!" replied Herbert.
"The volcano ought to be swept," observed Neb, who spoke as if perfectly
serious.
"Well said, Neb!" cried Pencroft, with a shout of laughter; "and you'll
undertake the job, no doubt?"
Cyrus Harding attentively observed the dense smoke emitted by Mount
Franklin, and even listened, as if expecting to hear some distant
muttering. Then, turning towards his companions, from whom he had gone
somewhat apart, he said--
"The truth is, my friends, we must not conceal from ourselves that an
important change is going forward. The volcanic substances are no
longer in a state of ebullition, they have caught fire, and we are
undoubtedly menaced by an approaching eruption."
"Well, captain," said Pencroft, "we shall witness the eruption; and if
it is a good one, we'll applaud it. I don't see that we need concern
ourselves further about the matter."
"It may be so," replied Cyrus Harding, "for the ancient track of the
lava is still open; and thanks to this, the crater has hitherto
overflowed towards the north. And yet--"
"And yet, as we can derive no advantage from an eruption, it might be
better it should not take place," said the reporter.
"Who knows?" answered the sailor. "Perhaps there may be some valuable
substance in this volcano, which it will spout forth, and which we may
turn to good account!"
Cyrus Harding shook his head with the air of a man who augured no good
from the phenomenon whose developments had been so sudden. He did not
regard so lightly as Pencroft the results of an eruption. If the lava,
in consequence of the position of the crater, did not directly menace
the wooded and cultivated parts of the island, other complications might
present themselves. In fact, eruptions are not unfrequently accompanied
by earthquakes; and an island of the nature of Lincoln Island formed of
substances so varied, basalt on one side, granite on the other, lava on
the north, rich soil on the south, substances which consequently could
not be firmly attached to each other, would be exposed to the risk of
disintegration. Although, therefore, the spreading of the volcanic
matter might not constitute a serious danger, any movement of the
terrestrial structure which should shake the island might entail the
gravest consequences.
"It seems to me," said Ayrton, who had reclined so as to place his ear
to the ground, "it seems to me that I can hear a dull, rumbling sound,
like that of a wagon loaded with bars of iron."
The colonists listened with the greatest attention, and were convinced
that Ayrton was not mistaken. The rumbling was mingled with a
subterranean roar, which formed a sort of -rinforzando-, and died slowly
away, as if some violent storm had passed through the profundities of
the globe. But no explosion, properly so termed, could be heard. It
might therefore be concluded that the vapours and smoke found a free
passage through the central shaft; and that the safety-valve being
sufficiently large, no convulsion would be produced, no explosion was to
be apprehended.
"Well, then!" said Pencroft, "are we not going back to work? Let Mount
Franklin smoke, groan, bellow, or spout forth fire and flame as much as
it pleases, that is no reason why we should be idle! Come, Ayrton, Neb,
Herbert, Captain Harding, Mr Spilett, every one of us must turn to at
our work to-day! We are going to place the keelson, and a dozen pair of
hands would not be too many. Before two months I want our new
-Bonadventure---for we shall keep the old name, shall we not?--to float
on the waters of Port Balloon! Therefore there is not an hour to lose!"
All the colonists, their services thus requisitioned by Pencroft,
descended to the dockyard, and proceeded to place the keelson, a thick
mass of wood which forms the lower portion of a ship and unites firmly
the timbers of the hull. It was an arduous undertaking, in which all
took part.
They continued their labours during the whole of this day, the 3rd of
January, without thinking further of the volcano, which could not,
besides, be seen from the shore of Granite House. But once or twice,
large shadows, veiling the sun, which described its diurnal arc through
an extremely clear sky, indicated that a thick cloud of smoke passed
between its disc and the island. The wind, blowing on the shore,
carried all these vapours to the westward. Cyrus Harding and Gideon
Spilett remarked these sombre appearances, and from time to time
discussed the evident progress of the volcanic phenomena, but their work
went on without interruption. It was, besides, of the first importance
from every point of view, that the vessel should be finished with the
least possible delay. In presence of the eventualities which might
arise, the safety of the colonists would be to a great extent secured by
their ship. Who could tell that it might not prove some day their only
refuge?
In the evening, after supper, Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, and
Herbert, again ascended the plateau of Prospect Heights. It was already
dark, and the obscurity would permit them to ascertain if flames or
incandescent matter thrown up by the volcano were mingled with the
vapour and smoke accumulated at the mouth of the crater.
"The crater is on fire!" said Herbert, who, more active than his
companions, first reached the plateau.
Mount Franklin, distant about six miles, now appeared like a gigantic
torch, around the summit of which turned fuliginous flames. So much
smoke, and possibly scoriae and cinders were mingled with them, that
their light gleamed but faintly amid the gloom of the night. But a kind
of lurid brilliancy spread over the island, against which stood out
confusedly the wooded masses of the heights. Immense whirlwinds of
vapour obscured the sky, through which glimmered a few stars.
"The change is rapid!" said the engineer. "That is not surprising,"
answered the reporter. "The re-awakening of the volcano already dates
back some time. You may remember, Cyrus, that the first vapours
appeared about the time we searched the sides of the mountain to
discover Captain Nemo's retreat. It was, if I mistake not, about the
15th of October."
"Yes," replied Herbert, "two months and a half ago!"
"The subterranean fires have therefore been smouldering for ten weeks,"
resumed Gideon Spilett, "and it is not to be wondered at that they now
break out with such violence!"
"Do not you feel a certain vibration of the soil?" asked Cyrus Harding.
"Yes," replied Gideon Spilett, "but there is a great difference between
that and an earthquake."
"I do not affirm that we are menaced with an earthquake," answered Cyrus
Harding, "may God preserve us from that! No; these vibrations are due
to the effervescence of the central fire. The crust of the earth is
simply the shell of a boiler, and you know that such a shell, under the
pressure of steam, vibrates like a sonorous plate. It is this effect
which is being produced at this moment."
"What magnificent flames!" exclaimed Herbert.
At this instant a kind of bouquet of flames shot forth from the crater,
the brilliancy of which was visible even through the vapours. Thousands
of luminous sheets and barbed tongues of fire were cast in various
directions. Some, extending beyond the dome of smoke, dissipated it,
leaving behind an incandescent powder. This was accompanied by
successive explosions, resembling the discharge of a battery of
mitrailleuses.
Cyrus Harding, the reporter, and Herbert, after spending an hour on the
plateau of Prospect Heights, again descended to the beach, and returned
to Granite House. The engineer was thoughtful and preoccupied, so much
so, indeed, that Gideon Spilett inquired if he apprehended any immediate
danger, of which the eruption might directly or indirectly be the cause.
"Yes, and no," answered Cyrus Harding.
"Nevertheless," continued the reporter, "would not the greatest
misfortune which could happen to us be an earthquake which would
overturn the island? Now, I do not suppose that this is to be feared,
since the vapours and lava have found a free outlet."
"True," replied Cyrus Harding, "and I do not fear an earthquake in the
sense in which the term is commonly applied to convulsions of the soil
provoked by the expansion of subterranean gases. But other causes may
produce great disasters."
"How so, my dear Cyrus?"
"I am not certain. I must consider. I must visit the mountain. In a
few days I shall learn more on this point."
Gideon Spilett said no more, and soon, in spite of the explosions of the
volcano, whose intensity increased, and which were repeated by the
echoes of the island, the inhabitants of Granite House were sleeping
soundly.
Three days passed by--the 4th, 5th, and 6th of January. The
construction of the vessel was diligently continued, and without
offering further explanations the engineer pushed forward the work with
all his energy. Mount Franklin was now hooded by a sombre cloud of
sinister aspect, and, amid the flames, vomited forth incandescent rocks,
some of which fell back into the crater itself. This caused Pencroft,
who would only look at the matter in the light of a joke, to exclaim--
"Ah! the giant is playing at cup and ball; he is a conjuror."
In fact, the substances thrown up fell back again into the abyss, and it
did not seem that the lava, though swollen by the internal pressure, had
yet risen to the orifice of the crater. At any rate, the opening on the
north-east, which was partly visible, poured out no torrent upon the
northern slope of the mountain.
Nevertheless, however pressing was the construction of the vessel, other
duties demanded the presence of the colonists on various portions of the
island. Before everything it was necessary to go to the corral, where
the flocks of musmons and goats were enclosed, and replenish the
provision of forage for those animals. It was accordingly arranged that
Ayrton should proceed thither the next day, the 7th of January; and as
he was sufficient for the task, to which he was accustomed, Pencroft and
the rest were somewhat surprised on hearing the engineer say to Ayrton--
"As you are going to-morrow to the corral I will accompany you."
"But, Captain Harding," exclaimed the sailor, "our working days will not
be many, and if you go also we shall be two pair of hands short!"
"We shall return to-morrow," replied Cyrus Harding, "but it is necessary
that I should go to the corral. I must learn how the eruption is
progressing."
"The eruption! always the eruption!" answered Pencroft, with an air of
discontent. "An important thing, truly, this eruption! I trouble
myself very little about it."
Whatever might be the sailor's opinion, the expedition projected by the
engineer was settled for the next day. Herbert wished to accompany
Cyrus Harding, but he would not vex Pencroft by his absence.
The next day, at dawn, Cyrus Harding and Ayrton, mounting the cart drawn
by two onagas, took the road to the corral and set off at a round trot.
Above the forest were passing large clouds, to which the crater of Mount
Franklin incessantly added fuliginous matter. These clouds, which
rolled heavily in the air, were evidently composed of heterogeneous
substances. It was not alone from the volcano that they derived their
strange opacity and weight. Scorias, in a state of dust, like powdered
pumice-stone, and greyish ashes as small as the finest feculae, were
held in suspension in the midst of their thick folds. These ashes are
so fine that they have been observed in the air for whole months. After
the eruption of 1783 in Iceland for upwards of a year the atmosphere was
thus charged with volcanic dust through which the rays of the sun were
only with difficulty discernible.
But more often this pulverised matter falls, and this happened on the
present occasion. Cyrus Harding and Ayrton had scarcely reached the
corral when a sort of black snow like fine gunpowder fell, and instantly
changed the appearance of the soil. Trees, meadows, all disappeared
beneath a covering several inches in depth. But, very fortunately, the
wind blew from the north-east, and the greater part of the cloud
dissolved itself over the sea.
"This is very singular, Captain Harding," said Ayrton.
"It is very serious," replied the engineer. "This powdered
pumice-stone, all this mineral dust, proves how grave is the convulsion
going forward in the lower depths of the volcano."
"But can nothing be done?"
"Nothing, except to note the progress of the phenomenon. Do you,
therefore, Ayrton, occupy yourself with the necessary work at the
corral. In the meantime I will ascend just beyond the source of Red
Creek and examine the condition of the mountain upon its northern
aspect. Then--"
"Well, Captain Harding?"
"Then we will pay a visit to Dakkar Grotto. I wish to inspect it. At
any rate I will come back for you in two hours."
Ayrton then proceeded to enter the corral, and, while waiting the
engineer's return, busied himself with the musmons and goats, which
seemed to feel a certain uneasiness in presence of these first signs of
an eruption.
Meanwhile Cyrus Harding ascended the crest of the eastern spur, passed
Red Creek, and arrived at the spot where he and his companions had
discovered a sulphureous spring at the time of their first exploration.
How changed was everything! Instead of a single column of smoke he
counted thirteen, forced through the soil as if violently propelled by
some piston. It was evident that the crust of the earth was subjected
in this part of the globe to a frightful pressure. The atmosphere was
saturated with gases and carbonic acid, mingled with aqueous vapours.
Cyrus Harding felt the volcanic tufa with which the plain was strewn,
and which were but pulverised cinders hardened into solid blocks by
time, tremble beneath him, but he could discover no traces of fresh
lava.
The engineer became more assured of this when he observed all the
northern part of Mount Franklin. Pillars of smoke and flame escaped
from the crater; a hail of scorias fell on the ground; but no current of
lava burst from the mouth of the volcano, which proved that the volcanic
matter had not yet attained the level of the superior orifice of the
central shaft.
"But I would prefer that it were so," said Cyrus Harding to himself.
"At any rate, I should then know that the lava had followed its
accustomed track. Who can say that they may not take a new course? But
the danger does not consist in that! Captain Nemo foresaw it clearly!
No, the danger does not lie there!"
Cyrus Harding advanced towards the enormous causeway whose prolongation
enclosed the narrow Shark Gulf. He could now sufficiently examine on
this side the ancient channels of the lava. There was no doubt in his
mind that the most recent eruption had occurred at a far-distant epoch.
He then returned by the same way, listening attentively to the
subterranean mutterings which rolled like long-continued thunder,
interrupted by deafening explosions. At nine in the morning he reached
the corral.
Ayrton awaited him.
"The animals are cared for, Captain Harding," said Ayrton.
"Good, Ayrton."
"They seem uneasy, Captain Harding."
"Yes, instinct speaks through them, and instinct is never deceived."
"Are you ready?"
"Take a lamp, Ayrton," answered the engineer; "we will start at once."
Ayrton did as desired. The onagas, unharnessed, roamed in the corral.
The gate was secured on the outside, and Cyrus Harding, preceding
Ayrton, took the narrow path which led westward to the shore.
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