“Let us search,” he resumed, “and God grant that we may some day be
permitted to prove to this haughty protector that he has not to deal
with ungrateful people! What would I not give could we repay him, by
rendering him in our turn, although at the price of our lives, some
signal service!”
From this day, the thoughts of the inhabitants of Lincoln Island were
solely occupied with the intended search. Everything incited them to
discover the answer to this enigma, an answer which would only be the
name of a man endowed with a truly inexplicable, and in some degree
superhuman power.
In a few minutes, the settlers re-entered the house, where their
influence soon restored to Ayrton his moral and physical energy. Neb
and Pencroft carried the corpses of the convicts into the forest, some
distance from the corral, and buried them deep in the ground.
Ayrton was then made acquainted with the facts which had occurred during
his seclusion. He learned Herbert’s adventures, and through what various
trials the colonists had passed. As to the settlers, they had despaired
of ever seeing Ayrton again, and had been convinced that the convicts
had ruthlessly murdered him.
“And now,” said Cyrus Harding, as he ended his recital, “a duty remains
for us to perform. Half of our task is accomplished, but although the
convicts are no longer to be feared, it is not owing to ourselves that
we are once more masters of the island.”
“Well!” answered Gideon Spilett, “let us search all this labyrinth of
the spurs of Mount Franklin. We will not leave a hollow, not a hole
unexplored! Ah! if ever a reporter found himself face to face with a
mystery, it is I who now speak to you, my friends!”
“And we will not return to Granite House until we have found our
benefactor,” said Herbert.
“Yes,” said the engineer, “we will do all that it is humanly possible to
do, but I repeat we shall not find him until he himself permits us.”
“Shall we stay at the corral?” asked Pencroft.
“We shall stay here,” answered Harding. “Provisions are abundant, and we
are here in the very center of the circle we have to explore. Besides,
if necessary, the cart will take us rapidly to Granite House.”
“Good!” answered the sailor. “Only I have a remark to make.”
“What is it?”
“Here is the fine season getting on, and we must not forget that we have
a voyage to make.”
“A voyage?” said Gideon Spilett.
“Yes, to Tabor Island,” answered Pencroft. “It is necessary to carry a
notice there to point out the position of our island and say that Ayrton
is here in case the Scotch yacht should come to take him off. Who knows
if it is not already too late?”
“But, Pencroft,” asked Ayrton, “how do you intend to make this voyage?”
“In the ‘Bonadventure.’”
“The ‘Bonadventure!’” exclaimed Ayrton. “She no longer exists.”
“My ‘Bonadventure’ exists no longer!” shouted Pencroft, bounding from
his seat.
“No,” answered Ayrton. “The convicts discovered her in her little harbor
only eight days ago, they put to sea in her--”
“And?” said Pencroft, his heart beating.
“And not having Bob Harvey to steer her, they ran on the rocks, and the
vessel went to pieces.”
“Oh, the villains, the cutthroats, the infamous scoundrels!” exclaimed
Pencroft.
“Pencroft,” said Herbert, taking the sailor’s hand, “we will build
another ‘Bonadventure’--a larger one. We have all the ironwork--all the
rigging of the brig at our disposal.”
“But do you know,” returned Pencroft, “that it will take at least five
or six months to build a vessel of from thirty to forty tons?”
“We can take our time,” said the reporter, “and we must give up the
voyage to Tabor Island for this year.”
“Oh, my ‘Bonadventure!’ my poor ‘Bonadventure!’” cried Pencroft, almost
broken-hearted at the destruction of the vessel of which he was so
proud.
The loss of the “Bonadventure” was certainly a thing to be lamented by
the colonists, and it was agreed that this loss should be repaired
as soon as possible. This settled, they now occupied themselves with
bringing their researches to bear on the most secret parts of the
island.
The exploration was commenced at daybreak on the 19th of February, and
lasted an entire week. The base of the mountain, with its spurs and
their numberless ramifications, formed a labyrinth of valleys and
elevations. It was evident that there, in the depths of these narrow
gorges, perhaps even in the interior of Mount Franklin itself, was the
proper place to pursue their researches. No part of the island could
have been more suitable to conceal a dwelling whose occupant wished to
remain unknown. But so irregular was the formation of the valleys that
Cyrus Harding was obliged to conduct the exploration in a strictly
methodical manner.
The colonists first visited the valley opening to the south of the
volcano, and which first received the waters of Falls River. There
Ayrton showed them the cavern where the convicts had taken refuge, and
in which he had been imprisoned until his removal to the corral. This
cavern was just as Ayrton had left it. They found there a considerable
quantity of ammunition and provisions, conveyed thither by the convicts
in order to form a reserve.
The whole of the valley bordering on the cave, shaded by fir and
other trees, was thoroughly explored, and on turning the point of the
southwestern spur, the colonists entered a narrower gorge similar to the
picturesque columns of basalt on the coast. Here the trees were fewer.
Stones took the place of grass. Goats and musmons gambolled among the
rocks. Here began the barren part of the island. It could already be
seen that, of the numerous valleys branching off at the base of Mount
Franklin, three only were wooded and rich in pasturage like that of the
corral, which bordered on the west on the Falls River valley, and on the
east on the Red Creek valley. These two streams, which lower down became
rivers by the absorption of several tributaries, were formed by all the
springs of the mountain and thus caused the fertility of its southern
part. As to the Mercy, it was more directly fed from ample springs
concealed under the cover of Jacamar Wood, and it was by springs of
this nature, spreading in a thousand streamlets, that the soil of the
Serpentine Peninsula was watered.
Now, of these three well-watered valleys, either might have served as a
retreat to some solitary who would have found there everything necessary
for life. But the settlers had already explored them, and in no part had
they discovered the presence of man.
Was it then in the depths of those barren gorges, in the midst of the
piles of rock, in the rugged northern ravines, among the streams of
lava, that this dwelling and its occupant would be found?
The northern part of Mount Franklin was at its base composed solely of
two valleys, wide, not very deep, without any appearance of vegetation,
strewn with masses of rock, paved with lava, and varied with great
blocks of mineral. This region required a long and careful exploration.
It contained a thousand cavities, comfortless no doubt, but perfectly
concealed and difficult of access.
The colonists even visited dark tunnels, dating from the volcanic
period, still black from the passage of the fire, and penetrated into
the depths of the mountain. They traversed these somber galleries,
waving lighted torches; they examined the smallest excavations; they
sounded the shallowest depths, but all was dark and silent. It did
not appear that the foot of man had ever before trodden these ancient
passages, or that his arm had ever displaced one of these blocks, which
remained as the volcano had cast them up above the waters, at the time
of the submersion of the island.
However, although these passages appeared to be absolutely deserted, and
the obscurity was complete, Cyrus Harding was obliged to confess that
absolute silence did not reign there.
On arriving at the end of one of these gloomy caverns, extending several
hundred feet into the interior of the mountain, he was surprised to hear
a deep rumbling noise, increased in intensity by the sonorousness of the
rocks.
Gideon Spilett, who accompanied him, also heard these distant
mutterings, which indicated a revivification of the subterranean fires.
Several times both listened, and they agreed that some chemical process
was taking place in the bowels of the earth.
“Then the volcano is not totally extinct?” said the reporter.
“It is possible that since our exploration of the crater,” replied Cyrus
Harding, “some change has occurred. Any volcano, although considered
extinct, may evidently again burst forth.”
“But if an eruption of Mount Franklin occurred,” asked Spilett, “would
there not be some danger to Lincoln Island?”
“I do not think so,” answered the reporter. “The crater, that is to
say, the safety-valve, exists, and the overflow of smoke and lava, would
escape, as it did formerly, by this customary outlet.”
“Unless the lava opened a new way for itself towards the fertile parts
of the island!”
“And why, my dear Spilett,” answered Cyrus Harding, “should it not
follow the road naturally traced out for it?”
“Well, volcanoes are capricious,” returned the reporter.
“Notice,” answered the engineer, “that the inclination of Mount Franklin
favors the flow of water towards the valleys which we are exploring just
now. To turn aside this flow, an earthquake would be necessary to change
the mountain’s center of gravity.”
“But an earthquake is always to be feared at these times,” observed
Gideon Spilett.
“Always,” replied the engineer, “especially when the subterranean forces
begin to awake, as they risk meeting with some obstruction, after a long
rest. Thus, my dear Spilett, an eruption would be a serious thing
for us, and it would be better that the volcano should not have the
slightest desire to wake up. But we could not prevent it, could we? At
any rate, even if it should occur, I do not think Prospect Heights would
be seriously threatened. Between them and the mountain, the ground
is considerably depressed, and if the lava should ever take a course
towards the lake, it would be cast on the downs and the neighboring
parts of Shark Gulf.”
“We have not yet seen any smoke at the top of the mountain, to indicate
an approaching eruption,” said Gideon Spilett.
“No,” answered Harding, “not a vapor escapes from the crater, for it
was only yesterday that I attentively surveyed the summit. But it
is probable that at the lower part of the chimney, time may have
accumulated rocks, cinders, hardened lava, and that this valve of which
I spoke, may at any time become overcharged. But at the first serious
effort, every obstacle will disappear, and you may be certain, my dear
Spilett, that neither the island, which is the boiler, nor the
volcano, which is the chimney, will burst under the pressure of gas.
Nevertheless, I repeat, it would be better that there should not be an
eruption.”
“And yet we are not mistaken,” remarked the reporter. “Mutterings can be
distinctly heard in the very bowels of the volcano!”
“You are right,” said the engineer, again listening attentively. “There
can be no doubt of it. A commotion is going on there, of which we can
neither estimate the importance nor the ultimate result.”
Cyrus Harding and Spilett, on coming out, rejoined their companions, to
whom they made known the state of affairs.
“Very well!” cried Pencroft, “The volcano wants to play his pranks! Let
him try, if he likes! He will find his master!”
“Who?” asked Neb.
“Our good genius, Neb, our good genius, who will shut his mouth for him,
if he so much as pretends to open it!”
As may be seen, the sailor’s confidence in the tutelary deity of his
island was absolute, and, certainly, the occult power, manifested until
now in so many inexplicable ways, appeared to be unlimited; but also it
knew how to escape the colonists’ most minute researches, for, in
spite of all their efforts, in spite of the more than zeal,--the
obstinacy,--with which they carried on their exploration, the retreat of
the mysterious being could not be discovered.
From the 19th to the 20th of February the circle of investigation was
extended to all the northern region of Lincoln Island, whose most secret
nooks were explored. The colonists even went the length of tapping every
rock. The search was extended to the extreme verge of the mountain. It
was explored thus to the very summit of the truncated cone terminating
the first row of rocks, then to the upper ridge of the enormous hat, at
the bottom of which opened the crater.
They did more; they visited the gulf, now extinct, but in whose depths
the rumbling could be distinctly heard. However, no sign of smoke or
vapor, no heating of the rock, indicated an approaching eruption.
But neither there, nor in any other part of Mount Franklin, did the
colonists find any traces of him of whom they were in search.
Their investigations were then directed to the downs. They carefully
examined the high lava-cliffs of Shark Gulf from the base to the crest,
although it was extremely difficult to reach even the level of the gulf.
No one!--nothing!
Indeed, in these three words was summed up so much fatigue uselessly
expended, so much energy producing no results, that somewhat of anger
mingled with the discomfiture of Cyrus Harding and his companions.
It was now time to think of returning, for these researches could not be
prolonged indefinitely. The colonists were certainly right in believing
that the mysterious being did not reside on the surface of the island,
and the wildest fancies haunted their excited imaginations. Pencroft
and Neb, particularly, were not contented with the mystery, but allowed
their imaginations to wander into the domain of the supernatural.
On the 25th of February the colonists re-entered Granite House, and by
means of the double cord, carried by an arrow to the threshold of the
door, they re-established communication between their habitation and the
ground.
A month later they commemorated, on the 25th of March, the third
anniversary of their arrival on Lincoln Island.
Chapter 14
Three years had passed away since the escape of the prisoners from
Richmond, and how often during those three years had they spoken of
their country, always present in their thoughts!
They had no doubt that the civil war was at an end, and to them it
appeared impossible that the just cause of the North had not triumphed.
But what had been the incidents of this terrible war? How much blood had
it not cost? How many of their friends must have fallen in the struggle?
They often spoke of these things, without as yet being able to foresee
the day when they would be permitted once more to see their country.
To return thither, were it but for a few days, to renew the social link
with the inhabited world, to establish a communication between their
native land and their island, then to pass the longest, perhaps the
best, portion of their existence in this colony, founded by them,
and which would then be dependent on their country, was this a dream
impossible to realize?
There were only two ways of accomplishing it--either a ship must appear
off Lincoln Island, or the colonists must themselves build a vessel
strong enough to sail to the nearest land.
“Unless,” said Pencroft, “our good genius, himself provides us with the
means of returning to our country.”
And, really, had any one told Pencroft and Neb that a ship of 300 tons
was waiting for them in Shark Gulf or at Port Balloon, they would not
even have made a gesture of surprise. In their state of mind nothing
appeared improbable.
But Cyrus Harding, less confident, advised them to confine themselves to
fact, and more especially so with regard to the building of a vessel--a
really urgent work, since it was for the purpose of depositing, as
soon as possible, at Tabor Island a document indicating Ayrton’s new
residence.
As the “Bonadventure” no longer existed, six months at least would
be required for the construction of a new vessel. Now winter was
approaching, and the voyage would not be made before the following
spring.
“We have time to get everything ready for the fine season,” remarked
the engineer, who was consulting with Pencroft about these matters. “I
think, therefore, my friend, that since we have to rebuild our vessel
it will be best to give her larger dimensions. The arrival of the Scotch
yacht at Tabor Island is very uncertain. It may even be that, having
arrived several months ago, she has again sailed after having vainly
searched for some trace of Ayrton. Will it not then be best to build
a ship which, if necessary, could take us either to the Polynesian
Archipelago or to New Zealand? What do you think?”
“I think, captain,” answered the sailor; “I think that you are as
capable of building a large vessel as a small one. Neither the wood nor
the tools are wanting. It is only a question of time.”
“And how many months would be required to build a vessel of from 250 to
300 tons?” asked Harding.
“Seven or eight months at least,” replied Pencroft. “But it must not be
forgotten that winter is drawing near, and that in severe frost wood is
difficult to work. We must calculate on several weeks delay, and if our
vessel is ready by next November we may think ourselves very lucky.”
“Well,” replied Cyrus Harding, “that will be exactly the most favorable
time for undertaking a voyage of any importance, either to Tabor Island
or to a more distant land.”
“So it will, captain,” answered the sailor. “Make out your plans then;
the workmen are ready, and I imagine that Ayrton can lend us a good
helping hand.”
The colonists, having been consulted, approved the engineer’s plan,
and it was, indeed, the best thing to be done. It is true that the
construction of a ship of from two to three hundred tons would be great
labor, but the colonists had confidence in themselves, justified by
their previous success.
Cyrus Harding then busied himself in drawing the plan of the vessel and
making the model. During this time his companions employed themselves in
felling and carting trees to furnish the ribs, timbers, and planks.
The forest of the Far West supplied the best oaks and elms. They took
advantage of the opening already made on their last excursion to form a
practicable road, which they named the Far West Road, and the trees were
carried to the Chimneys, where the dockyard was established. As to
the road in question, the choice of trees had rendered its direction
somewhat capricious, but at the same time it facilitated the access to a
large part of the Serpentine Peninsula.
It was important that the trees should be quickly felled and cut up, for
they could not be used while yet green, and some time was necessary to
allow them to get seasoned. The carpenters, therefore, worked vigorously
during the month of April, which was troubled only by a few equinoctial
gales of some violence. Master Jup aided them dexterously, either by
climbing to the top of a tree to fasten the ropes or by lending his
stout shoulders to carry the lopped trunks.
All this timber was piled up under a large shed, built near the
Chimneys, and there awaited the time for use.
The month of April was tolerably fine, as October often is in the
northern zone. At the same time other work was actively continued, and
soon all trace of devastation disappeared from the plateau of
Prospect Heights. The mill was rebuilt, and new buildings rose in the
poultry-yard. It had appeared necessary to enlarge their dimensions,
for the feathered population had increased considerably. The stable
now contained five onagers, four of which were well broken, and allowed
themselves to be either driven or ridden, and a little colt. The colony
now possessed a plow, to which the onagers were yoked like regular
Yorkshire or Kentucky oxen. The colonists divided their work, and their
arms never tired. Then who could have enjoyed better health than these
workers, and what good humor enlivened the evenings in Granite House as
they formed a thousand plans for the future!
As a matter of course Ayrton shared the common lot in every respect,
and there was no longer any talk of his going to live at the corral.
Nevertheless he was still sad and reserved, and joined more in the work
than in the pleasures of his companions. But he was a valuable workman
at need--strong, skilful, ingenious, intelligent. He was esteemed and
loved by all, and he could not be ignorant of it.
In the meanwhile the corral was not abandoned. Every other day one of
the settlers, driving the cart or mounted on an onager, went to look
after the flock of musmons and goats and bring back the supply of
milk required by Neb. These excursions at the same time afforded
opportunities for hunting. Therefore Herbert and Gideon Spilett, with
Top in front, traversed more often than their companions the road to
the corral, and with the capital guns which they carried, capybaras,
agouties, kangaroos, and wild pigs for large game, ducks, grouse,
jacamars, and snipe for small game, were never wanting in the house.
The produce of the warren, of the oyster-bed, several turtles which were
taken, excellent salmon which came up the Mercy, vegetables from the
plateau, wild fruit from the forest, were riches upon riches, and Neb,
the head cook, could scarcely by himself store them away.
The telegraphic wire between the corral and Granite House had of course
been repaired, and it was worked whenever one or other of the settlers
was at the corral and found it necessary to spend the night there.
Besides, the island was safe now and no attacks were to be feared, at
any rate from men.
However, that which had happened might happen again. A descent of
pirates, or even of escaped convicts, was always to be feared. It was
possible that companions or accomplices of Bob Harvey had been in the
secret of his plans, and might be tempted to imitate him. The colonists,
therefore, were careful to observe the sea around the island, and every
day their telescope covered the horizon enclosed by Union and Washington
Bays. When they went to the corral they examined the sea to the west
with no less attention, and by climbing the spur their gaze extended
over a large section of the western horizon.
Nothing suspicious was discerned, but still it was necessary for them to
be on their guard.
The engineer one evening imparted to his friends a plan which he had
conceived for fortifying the corral. It appeared prudent to him to
heighten the palisade and to flank it with a sort of blockhouse, which,
if necessary, the settlers could hold against the enemy. Granite House
might, by its very position, be considered impregnable; therefore the
corral with its buildings, its stores, and the animals it contained,
would always be the object of pirates, whoever they were, who might land
on the island, and should the colonists be obliged to shut themselves
up there they ought also to be able to defend themselves without any
disadvantage. This was a project which might be left for consideration,
and they were, besides, obliged to put off its execution until the next
spring.
About the 15th of May the keel of the new vessel lay along the dockyard,
and soon the stem and stern-post, mortised at each of its extremities,
rose almost perpendicularly. The keel, of good oak, measured 110 feet
in length, this allowing a width of five-and-twenty feet to the midship
beam. But this was all the carpenters could do before the arrival of the
frosts and bad weather. During the following week they fixed the first
of the stern timbers, but were then obliged to suspend work.
During the last days of the month the weather was extremely bad. The
wind blew from the east, sometimes with the violence of a tempest. The
engineer was somewhat uneasy on account of the dockyard shed--which
besides, he could not have established in any other place near to
Granite House--for the islet only imperfectly sheltered the shore from
the fury of the open sea, and in great storms the waves beat against the
very foot of the granite cliff.
But, very fortunately, these fears were not realized. The wind shifted
to the southeast, and there the beach of Granite House was completely
covered by Flotsam Point.
Pencroft and Ayrton, the most zealous workmen at the new vessel, pursued
their labor as long as they could. They were not men to mind the wind
tearing at their hair, nor the rain wetting them to the skin, and a blow
from a hammer is worth just as much in bad as in fine weather. But when
a severe frost succeeded this wet period, the wood, its fibers acquiring
the hardness of iron, became extremely difficult to work, and about the
10th of June shipbuilding was obliged to be entirely discontinued.
Cyrus Harding and his companions had not omitted to observe how severe
was the temperature during the winters of Lincoln Island. The cold was
comparable to that experienced in the States of New England, situated at
almost the same distance from the equator. In the northern hemisphere,
or at any rate in the part occupied by British America and the north of
the United States, this phenomenon is explained by the flat conformation
of the territories bordering on the pole, and on which there is no
intumescence of the soil to oppose any obstacle to the north winds;
here, in Lincoln Island, this explanation would not suffice.
“It has even been observed,” remarked Harding one day to his companions,
“that in equal latitudes the islands and coast regions are less tried by
the cold than inland countries. I have often heard it asserted that the
winters of Lombardy, for example, are not less rigorous than those of
Scotland, which results from the sea restoring during the winter the
heat which it received during the summer. Islands are, therefore, in a
better situation for benefiting by this restitution.”
“But then, Captain Harding,” asked Herbert, “why does Lincoln Island
appear to escape the common law?”
“That is difficult to explain,” answered the engineer. “However, I
should be disposed to conjecture that this peculiarity results from the
situation of the island in the Southern Hemisphere, which, as you know,
my boy, is colder than the Northern Hemisphere.”
“Yes,” said Herbert, “and icebergs are met with in lower latitudes in
the south than in the north of the Pacific.”
“That is true,” remarked Pencroft, “and when I have been serving on
board whalers I have seen icebergs off Cape Horn.”
“The severe cold experienced in Lincoln Island,” said Gideon Spilett,
“may then perhaps be explained by the presence of floes or icebergs
comparatively near to Lincoln Island.”
“Your opinion is very admissible indeed, my dear Spilett,” answered
Cyrus Harding, “and it is evidently to the proximity of icebergs that
we owe our rigorous winters. I would draw your attention also to an
entirely physical cause, which renders the Southern colder than the
Northern Hemisphere. In fact, since the sun is nearer to this hemisphere
during the summer, it is necessarily more distant during the winter.
This explains then the excess of temperature in the two seasons, for, if
we find the winters very cold in Lincoln Island, we must not forget that
the summers here, on the contrary, are very hot.”
“But why, if you please, captain,” asked Pencroft, knitting his brows,
“why should our hemisphere, as you say, be so badly divided? It isn’t
just, that!”
“Friend Pencroft,” answered the engineer, laughing, “whether just
or not, we must submit to it, and here lies the reason for this
peculiarity. The earth does not describe a circle around the sun, but
an ellipse, as it must by the laws of rational mechanics. Now, the earth
occupies one of the foci of the ellipse, and so at one point in its
course is at its apogee, that is, at its farthest from the sun, and
at another point it is at its perigee, or nearest to the sun. Now it
happens that it is during the winter of the southern countries that
it is at its most distant point from the sun, and consequently, in a
situation for those regions to feel the greatest cold. Nothing can be
done to prevent that, and men, Pencroft, however learned they may be,
can never change anything of the cosmographical order established by God
Himself.”
“And yet,” added Pencroft, “the world is very learned. What a big book,
captain, might be made with all that is known!”
“And what a much bigger book still with all that is not known!” answered
Harding.
At last, for one reason or another, the month of June brought the cold
with its accustomed intensity, and the settlers were often confined to
Granite House. Ah! how wearisome this imprisonment was to them, and more
particularly to Gideon Spilett.
“Look here,” said he to Neb one day, “I would give you by notarial
deed all the estates which will come to me some day, if you were a good
enough fellow to go, no matter where, and subscribe to some newspaper
for me! Decidedly the thing that is most essential to my happiness is
the knowing every morning what has happened the day before in other
places than this!”
Neb began to laugh.
“‘Pon my word,” he replied, “the only thing I think about is my daily
work!”
The truth was that indoors as well as out there was no want of work.
The colony of Lincoln Island was now at its highest point of prosperity,
achieved by three years of continued hard work. The destruction of the
brig had been a new source of riches. Without speaking of the complete
rig which would serve for the vessel now on the stocks, utensils and
tools of all sorts, weapons and ammunition, clothes and instruments,
were now piled in the storerooms of Granite House. It had not even
been necessary to resort again to the manufacture of the coarse felt
materials. Though the colonists had suffered from cold during their
first winter, the bad season might now come without their having any
reason to dread its severity. Linen was plentiful also, and besides,
they kept it with extreme care. From chloride of sodium, which is
nothing else than sea salt, Cyrus Harding easily extracted the soda and
chlorine. The soda, which it was easy to change into carbonate of soda,
and the chlorine, of which he made chloride of lime, were employed for
various domestic purposes, and especially in bleaching linen. Besides,
they did not wash more than four times a year, as was done by families
in the olden times, and it may be added, that Pencroft and Gideon
Spilett, while waiting for the postman to bring him his newspaper,
distinguished themselves as washermen.
So passed the winter months, June, July, and August. They were severe,
and the average observations of the thermometer did not give more than
eight degrees of Fahrenheit. It was therefore lower in temperature than
the preceding winter. But then, what splendid fires blazed continually
on the hearths of Granite House, the smoke marking the granite wall with
long, zebra-like streaks! Fuel was not spared, as it grew naturally a
few steps from them. Besides, the chips of the wood destined for the
construction of the ship enabled them to economize the coal, which
required more trouble to transport.
Men and animals were all well. Master Jup was a little chilly, it must
be confessed. This was perhaps his only weakness, and it was necessary
to make him a well-padded dressing-gown. But what a servant he was,
clever, zealous, indefatigable, not indiscreet, not talkative, and
he might have been with reason proposed as a model for all his biped
brothers in the Old and New Worlds!
“As for that,” said Pencroft, “when one has four hands at one’s service,
of course one’s work ought to be done so much the better!”
And indeed the intelligent creature did it well.
During the seven months which had passed since the last researches made
round the mountain, and during the month of September, which brought
back fine weather, nothing was heard of the genius of the island. His
power was not manifested in any way. It is true that it would have
been superfluous, for no incident occurred to put the colonists to any
painful trial.
Cyrus Harding even observed that if by chance the communication between
the unknown and the tenants of Granite House had ever been established
through the granite, and if Top’s instinct had as it were felt it, there
was no further sign of it during this period. The dog’s growling
had entirely ceased, as well as the uneasiness of the orang. The two
friends--for they were such--no longer prowled round the opening of the
inner well, nor did they bark or whine in that singular way which from
the first the engineer had noticed. But could he be sure that this was
all that was to be said about this enigma, and that he should never
arrive at a solution? Could he be certain that some conjuncture would
not occur which would bring the mysterious personage on the scene? who
could tell what the future might have in reserve?
At last the winter was ended, but an event, the consequences of which
might be serious occurred in the first days of the returning spring.
On the 7th of September, Cyrus Harding, having observed the crater, saw
smoke curling round the summit of the mountain, its first vapors rising
in the air.
Chapter 15
The colonists, warned by the engineer, left their work and gazed in
silence at the summit of Mount Franklin.
The volcano had awoke, and the vapor had penetrated the mineral layer
heaped at the bottom of the crater. But would the subterranean fires
provoke any violent eruption? This was an event which could not be
foreseen. However, even while admitting the possibility of an eruption,
it was not probable that the whole of Lincoln Island would suffer from
it. The flow of volcanic matter is not always disastrous, and the island
had already undergone this trial, as was shown by the streams of lava
hardened on the northern slopes of the mountain. Besides, from the shape
of the crater--the opening broken in the upper edge--the matter would be
thrown to the side opposite the fertile regions of the island.
However, the past did not necessarily answer for the future. Often, at
the summit of volcanoes, the old craters close and new ones open.
This had occurred in the two hemispheres--at Etna, Popocatepetl, at
Orizabaand on the eve of an eruption there is everything to be feared.
In fact, an earthquake--a phenomenon which often accompanies volcanic
eruption--is enough to change the interior arrangement of a mountain,
and to open new outlets for the burning lava.
Cyrus Harding explained these things to his companions, and, without
exaggerating the state of things, he told them all the pros and cons.
After all, they could not prevent it. It did not appear likely that
Granite House would be threatened unless the ground was shaken by an
earthquake. But the corral would be in great danger should a new crater
open in the southern side of Mount Franklin.
From that day the smoke never disappeared from the top of the mountain,
and it could even be perceived that it increased in height and
thickness, without any flame mingling in its heavy volumes. The
phenomenon was still concentrated in the lower part of the central
crater.
However, with the fine days work had been continued. The building of the
vessel was hastened as much as possible, and, by means of the waterfall
on the shore, Cyrus Harding managed to establish an hydraulic sawmill,
which rapidly cut up the trunks of trees into planks and joists. The
mechanism of this apparatus was as simple as those used in the rustic
sawmills of Norway. A first horizontal movement to move the piece of
wood, a second vertical movement to move the saw--this was all that was
wanted; and the engineer succeeded by means of a wheel, two cylinders,
and pulleys properly arranged. Towards the end of the month of September
the skeleton of the vessel, which was to be rigged as a schooner, lay
in the dockyard. The ribs were almost entirely completed, and, all the
timbers having been sustained by a provisional band, the shape of the
vessel could already be seen. The schooner, sharp in the bows, very
slender in the after-part, would evidently be suitable for a long
voyage, if wanted; but laying the planking would still take a
considerable time. Very fortunately, the iron work of the pirate brig
had been saved after the explosion. From the planks and injured ribs
Pencroft and Ayrton had extracted the bolts and a large quantity
of copper nails. It was so much work saved for the smiths, but the
carpenters had much to do.
Shipbuilding was interrupted for a week for the harvest, the haymaking,
and the gathering in of the different crops on the plateau. This work
finished, every moment was devoted to finishing the schooner. When night
came the workmen were really quite exhausted. So as not to lose any
time they had changed the hours for their meals; they dined at twelve
o’clock, and only had their supper when daylight failed them. They then
ascended to Granite House, when they were always ready to go to bed.
Sometimes, however, when the conversation bore on some interesting
subject the hour for sleep was delayed for a time. The colonists then
spoke of the future, and talked willingly of the changes which a voyage
in the schooner to inhabited lands would make in their situation.
But always, in the midst of these plans, prevailed the thought of a
subsequent return to Lincoln Island. Never would they abandon this
colony, founded with so much labor and with such success, and to which
a communication with America would afford a fresh impetus. Pencroft and
Neb especially hoped to end their days there.
“Herbert,” said the sailor, “you will never abandon Lincoln Island?”
“Never, Pencroft, and especially if you make up your mind to stay
there.”
“That was made up long ago, my boy,” answered Pencroft. “I shall expect
you. You will bring me your wife and children, and I shall make jolly
chaps of your youngsters!”
“That’s agreed,” replied Herbert, laughing and blushing at the same
time.
“And you, Captain Harding,” resumed Pencroft enthusiastically, “you will
be still the governor of the island! Ah, how many inhabitants could it
support? Ten thousand at least!”
They talked in this way, allowing Pencroft to run on, and at last the
reporter actually started a newspaper--the New Lincoln Herald!
So is man’s heart. The desire to perform a work which will endure, which
will survive him, is the origin of his superiority over all other living
creatures here below. It is this which has established his dominion, and
this it is which justifies it, over all the world.
After that, who knows if Jup and Top had not themselves their little
dream of the future.
Ayrton silently said to himself that he would like to see Lord Glenarvan
again and show himself to all restored.
One evening, on the 15th of October, the conversation was prolonged
later than usual. It was nine o’clock. Already, long badly concealed
yawns gave warning of the hour of rest, and Pencroft was proceeding
towards his bed, when the electric bell, placed in the dining-room,
suddenly rang.
All were there, Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, Herbert, Ayrton,
Pencroft, Neb. Therefore none of the colonists were at the corral.
Cyrus Harding rose. His companions stared at each other, scarcely
believing their ears.
“What does that mean?” cried Neb. “Was it the devil who rang it?”
No one answered.
“The weather is stormy,” observed Herbert. “Might not its influence of
electricity--”
Herbert did not finish his phrase. The engineer, towards whom all eyes
were turned, shook his head negatively.
“We must wait,” said Gideon Spilett. “If it is a signal, whoever it may
be who has made it, he will renew it.”
“But who do you think it is?” cried Neb.
“Who?” answered Pencroft, “but he--”
The sailor’s sentence was cut short by a new tinkle of the bell.
Harding went to the apparatus, and sent this question to the corral:--
“What do you want?”
A few moments later the needle, moving on the alphabetic dial, gave this
reply to the tenants of Granite House:--
“Come to the corral immediately.”
“At last!” exclaimed Harding.
Yes! At last! The mystery was about to be unveiled. The colonists’
fatigue had disappeared before the tremendous interest which was about
to urge them to the corral, and all wish for rest had ceased. Without
having uttered a word, in a few moments they had left Granite House,
and were standing on the beach. Jup and Top alone were left behind. They
could do without them.
The night was black. The new moon had disappeared at the same time as
the sun. As Herbert had observed, great stormy clouds formed a lowering
and heavy vault, preventing any star rays. A few lightning flashes,
reflections from a distant storm, illuminated the horizon.
It was possible that a few hours later the thunder would roll over the
island itself. The night was very threatening.
But however deep the darkness was, it would not prevent them from
finding the familiar road to the corral.
They ascended the left bank of the Mercy, reached the plateau, passed
the bridge over Creek Glycerine, and advanced through the forest.
They walked at a good pace, a prey to the liveliest emotions. There was
no doubt but that they were now going to learn the long-searched-for
answer to the enigma, the name of that mysterious being, so deeply
concerned in their life, so generous in his influence, so powerful
in his action! Must not this stranger have indeed mingled with their
existence, have known the smallest details, have heard all that was said
in Granite House, to have been able always to act in the very nick of
time?
Every one, wrapped up in his own reflections, pressed forward. Under the
arch of trees the darkness was such that even the edge of the road
could not be seen. Not a sound in the forest. Both animals and birds,
influenced by the heaviness of the atmosphere, remained motionless
and silent. Not a breath disturbed the leaves. The footsteps of the
colonists alone resounded on the hardened ground.
During the first quarter of an hour the silence was only interrupted by
this remark from Pencroft:--
“We ought to have brought a torch.”
And by this reply from the engineer:--
“We shall find one at the corral.”
Harding and his companions had left Granite House at twelve minutes past
nine. At forty-seven minutes past nine they had traversed three out of
the five miles which separated the mouth of the Mercy from the corral.
At that moment sheets of lightning spread over the island and illumined
the dark trees. The flashes dazzled and almost blinded them. Evidently
the storm would not be long in bursting forth.
The flashes gradually became brighter and more rapid. Distant thunder
growled in the sky. The atmosphere was stifling.
The colonists proceeded as if they were urged onwards by some
irresistible force.
At ten o’clock a vivid flash showed them the palisade, and as they
reached the gate the storm burst forth with tremendous fury.
In a minute the corral was crossed, and Harding stood before the hut.
Probably the house was occupied by the stranger, since it was from
thence that the telegram had been sent. However, no light shone through
the window.
The engineer knocked at the door.
No answer.
Cyrus Harding opened the door, and the settlers entered the room, which
was perfectly dark. A light was struck by Neb, and in a few moments the
lantern was lighted and the light thrown into every corner of the room.
There was no one there. Everything was in the state in which it had been
left.
“Have we been deceived by an illusion?” murmured Cyrus Harding.
No! that was not possible! The telegram had clearly said,--
“Come to the corral immediately.”
They approached the table specially devoted to the use of the wire.
Everything was in order--the pile on the box containing it, as well as
all the apparatus.
“Who came here the last time?” asked the engineer.
“I did, captain,” answered Ayrton.
“And that was--”
“Four days ago.”
“Ah! a note!” cried Herbert, pointing to a paper lying on the table.
On this paper were written these words in English:--
“Follow the new wire.”
“Forward!” cried Harding, who understood that the despatch had not been
sent from the corral, but from the mysterious retreat, communicating
directly with Granite House by means of a supplementary wire joined to
the old one.
Neb took the lighted lantern, and all left the corral. The storm
then burst forth with tremendous violence. The interval between each
lightning-flash and each thunder-clap diminished rapidly. The summit
of the volcano, with its plume of vapor, could be seen by occasional
flashes.
There was no telegraphic communication in any part of the corral between
the house and the palisade; but the engineer, running straight to the
first post, saw by the light of a flash a new wire hanging from the
isolator to the ground.
“There it is!” said he.
This wire lay along the ground, and was surrounded with an isolating
substance like a submarine cable, so as to assure the free transmission
of the current. It appeared to pass through the wood and the southern
spurs of the mountain, and consequently it ran towards the west.
“Follow it!” said Cyrus Harding.
And the settlers immediately pressed forward, guided by the wire.
The thunder continued to roar with such violence that not a word could
be heard. However, there was no occasion for speaking, but to get
forward as fast as possible.
Cyrus Harding and his companions then climbed the spur rising between
the corral valley and that of Falls River, which they crossed at its
narrowest part. The wire, sometimes stretched over the lower branches
of the trees, sometimes lying on the ground, guided them surely. The
engineer had supposed that the wire would perhaps stop at the bottom of
the valley, and that the stranger’s retreat would be there.
Nothing of the sort. They were obliged to ascend the south-western spur,
and re-descend on that arid plateau terminated by the strangely-wild
basalt cliff. From time to time one of the colonists stooped down and
felt for the wire with his hands; but there was now no doubt that the
wire was running directly towards the sea. There, to a certainty, in the
depths of those rocks, was the dwelling so long sought for in vain.
The sky was literally on fire. Flash succeeded flash. Several struck the
summit of the volcano in the midst of the thick smoke. It appeared there
as if the mountain was vomiting flame. At a few minutes to eleven the
colonists arrived on the high cliff overlooking the ocean to the west.
The wind had risen. The surf roared 500 feet below.
Harding calculated that they had gone a mile and a half from the corral.
At this point the wire entered among the rocks, following the steep side
of a narrow ravine. The settlers followed it at the risk of occasioning
a fall of the slightly-balanced rocks, and being dashed into the sea.
The descent was extremely perilous, but they did not think of the
danger; they were no longer masters of themselves, and an irresistible
attraction drew them towards this mysterious place as the magnet draws
iron.
Thus they almost unconsciously descended this ravine, which even in
broad daylight would have been considered impracticable.
The stones rolled and sparkled like fiery balls when they crossed
through the gleams of light. Harding was first--Ayrton last. On they
went, step by step. Now they slid over the slippery rock; then they
struggled to their feet and scrambled on.
At last the wire touched the rocks on the beach. The colonists had
reached the bottom of the basalt cliff.
There appeared a narrow ridge, running horizontally and parallel with
the sea. The settlers followed the wire along it. They had not gone a
hundred paces when the ridge by a moderate incline sloped down to the
level of the sea.
The engineer seized the wire and found that it disappeared beneath the
waves.
His companions were stupefied.
A cry of disappointment, almost a cry of despair, escaped them! Must
they then plunge beneath the water and seek there for some submarine
cavern? In their excited state they would not have hesitated to do it.
The engineer stopped them.
He led his companions to a hollow in the rocks, and there--
“We must wait,” said he. “The tide is high. At low water the way will be
open.”
“But what can make you think-” asked Pencroft.
“He would not have called us if the means had been wanting to enable us
to reach him!”
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913
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962
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.
;
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971
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972
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973
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976
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985
986
?
.
987
988
.
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990
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991
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.
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.
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995
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-
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996
997
«
998
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»
999
1000