running rapidly towards Claw Cape.
Every one was thinking of the castaway on Tabor Island. Should they be
in time to save him? This was a great event in the life of the
colonists! They themselves were but castaways, but it was to be feared
that another might not have been so fortunate, and their duty was to
go to his succour.
Claw Cape was doubled, and about four o'clock the -Bonadventure-
dropped her anchor at the mouth of the Mercy.
That same evening the arrangements for the new expedition were made.
It appeared best that Pencroft and Herbert, who knew how to work the
vessel, should undertake the voyage alone. By setting out the next
day, the 10th of October, they would arrive on the 13th, for with the
present wind it would not take more than forty-eight hours to make
this passage of a hundred and fifty miles. One day in the island,
three or four to return, they might hope therefore that on the 17th
they would again reach Lincoln Island. The weather was fine, the
barometer was rising, the wind appeared settled, everything then was
in favour of these brave men whom an act of humanity was taking far
from their island.
Thus it had been agreed that Cyrus Harding, Neb, and Gideon Spilett,
should remain at Granite House, but an objection was raised, and
Spilett, who had not forgotten his business as reporter to the -New
York Herald-, having declared that he would go by swimming rather than
lose such an opportunity, he was admitted to take a part in the
voyage.
The evening was occupied in transporting on board the -Bonadventure-
articles of bedding, utensils, arms, ammunition, a compass, provisions
for a week, and this business being rapidly accomplished the colonists
ascended to Granite House.
The next day, at five o'clock in the morning, the farewells were said,
not without some emotion on both sides, and Pencroft setting sail made
towards Claw Cape, which had to be doubled in order to proceed to the
south-west.
The -Bonadventure- was already a quarter of a mile from the coast,
when the passengers perceived on the heights of Granite House two men
waving their farewells; they were Cyrus Harding and Neb.
"Our friends," exclaimed Spilett, "this is our first separation for
fifteen months."
Pencroft, the reporter, and Herbert waved in return, and Granite House
soon disappeared behind the high rocks of the Cape.
During the first part of the day the -Bonadventure- was still in sight
of the southern coast of Lincoln Island, which soon appeared just like
a green basket, with Mount Franklin rising from the centre. The
heights, diminished by distance, did not present an appearance likely
to tempt vessels to touch there. Reptile End was passed in about an
hour, though at a distance of about ten miles.
At this distance it was no longer possible to distinguish anything of
the Western Coast, which stretched away to the ridges of Mount
Franklin, and three hours after the last of Lincoln Island sank below
the horizon.
The -Bonadventure- behaved capitally. Bounding over the waves she
proceeded rapidly on her course. Pencroft had hoisted the foresail,
and steering by the compass followed a rectilinear direction. From
time to time Herbert relieved him at the helm, and the lad's hand was
so firm that the sailor had not a point to find fault with.
Gideon Spilett chatted sometimes with one, sometimes with the other,
if wanted he lent a hand with the ropes, and Captain Pencroft was
perfectly satisfied with his crew.
[Illustration: THE DEPARTURE]
In the evening the crescent moon, which would not be in its first
quarter until the 16th, appeared in the twilight and soon set again.
The night was dark but starry, and the next day again promised to be
fine.
Pencroft prudently lowered the foresail, not wishing to be caught by a
sudden gust while carrying too much canvas; it was perhaps an
unnecessary precaution on such a calm night, but Pencroft was a
prudent sailor and cannot be blamed for it.
The reporter slept part of the night. Pencroft and Herbert took turns
for a spell of two hours each at the helm. The sailor trusted Herbert
as he would himself, and his confidence was justified by the coolness
and judgment of the lad. Pencroft gave him his directions as a
commander to his steersman, and Herbert never allowed the
-Bonadventure- to swerve even a point. The night passed quietly, as
did the day of the 12th of October. A south-easterly direction was
strictly maintained, unless the -Bonadventure- fell in with some
unknown current she would come exactly within sight of Tabor Island.
As to the sea over which the vessel was then sailing, it was
absolutely deserted. Now and then a great albatross or frigate bird
passed within gun-shot, and Gideon Spilett wondered if it was to one
of them that he had confided his last letter addressed to the -New
York Herald-. These birds were the only beings that appeared to
frequent this part of the ocean between Tabor and Lincoln Island.
"And yet," observed Herbert, "this is the time that whalers usually
proceed towards the southern part of the Pacific. Indeed I do not
think there could be a more deserted sea than this."
"It is not quite so deserted as all that," replied Pencroft.
"What do you mean," asked the reporter.
"We are on it. Do you take our vessel for a wreck and us for
porpoises?"
And Pencroft laughed at his joke.
By the evening, according to calculation, it was thought that the
-Bonadventure- had accomplished a distance of a hundred and twenty
miles since her departure from Lincoln Island, that is to say in
thirty-six hours, which would give her a speed of between three and
four knots an hour. The breeze was very slight and might soon drop
altogether. However it was hoped that the next morning by break of
day, if the calculation had been correct and the course true, they
would sight Tabor Island.
Neither Gideon Spilett, Herbert, nor Pencroft slept that night. In the
expectation of the next day they could not but feel some emotion.
There was so much uncertainty in their enterprise! Were they near
Tabor Island? Was the island still inhabited by the castaway to whose
succour they had come. Who was this man? Would not his presence
disturb the little colony till then so united? Besides, would he be
content to exchange his prison for another? All these questions, which
would no doubt be answered the next day, kept them in suspense, and at
the dawn of day they all fixed their gaze on the western horizon.
"Land!" shouted Pencroft at about six o'clock in the morning.
And it was impossible that Pencroft should be mistaken, it was evident
that land was there. Imagine the joy of the little crew of the
-Bonadventure-. In a few hours they would land on the beach of the
island!
The low coast of Tabor Island, scarcely emerging from the sea, was not
more than fifteen miles distant.
The head of the -Bonadventure-, which was a little to the south of the
island, was set directly towards it, and as the sun mounted in the
east, his rays fell upon one or two headlands.
"This is a much less important isle than Lincoln Island," observed
Herbert, "and is probably due like ours to some submarine convulsion."
At eleven o'clock the -Bonadventure- was not more than two miles off,
and Pencroft, whilst looking for a suitable place at which to land,
proceeded very cautiously through the unknown waters. The whole of the
island could now be surveyed, and on it could be seen groups of gum
and other large trees, of the same species as those growing on Lincoln
Island. But the astonishing thing was that no smoke arose to show that
the island was inhabited, not a signal appeared on any point of the
shore whatever!
And yet the document was clear enough; there was a castaway, and this
castaway should have been on the watch.
In the meanwhile the -Bonadventure- entered the winding channels among
the reefs, and Pencroft observed every turn with extreme care. He had
put Herbert at the helm, posting himself in the bows, inspecting the
water, whilst he held the halliard in his hand, ready to lower the
sail at a moment's notice. Gideon Spilett with his glass eagerly
scanned the shore, though without perceiving anything.
However at about twelve o'clock the keel of the -Bonadventure- grated
on the bottom. The anchor was let go, the sails furled, and the crew
of the little vessel landed.
And there was no reason to doubt that this was Tabor Island, since
according to the most recent charts there was no island in this part
of the Pacific between New Zealand and the American coast.
The vessel was securely moored, so that there should be no danger of
her being carried away by the receding tide; then Pencroft and his
companions, well armed, ascended the shore, so as to gain an elevation
of about two hundred and fifty or three hundred feet which rose at a
distance of half a mile.
"From the summit of that hill," said Spilett, "we can no doubt obtain
a complete view of the island, which will greatly facilitate our
search."
"So as to do here," replied Herbert, "that which Captain Harding did
the very first thing on Lincoln Island, by climbing Mount Franklin."
"Exactly so," answered the reporter; "and it is the best plan of
proceeding."
Whilst thus talking the explorers had advanced along a clearing which
terminated at the foot of the hill. Flocks of rock-pigeons and
sea-swallows, similar to those of Lincoln Island, fluttered around
them. Under the woods which skirted the glade on the left they could
hear the bushes rustling and see the grass waving, which indicated the
presence of timid animals, but still nothing to show that the island
was inhabited.
Arrived at the foot of the hill, Pencroft, Spilett, and Herbert
climbed it in a few minutes, and gazed anxiously round the horizon.
[Illustration: NEARING THE ISLAND]
They were on an islet which did not measure more than six miles in
circumference, its shape not much bordered by capes or promontories,
bays or creeks, being a lengthened oval. All around, the lonely sea
extended to the limits of the horizon. No land nor even a sail was in
sight.
This woody islet did not offer the varied aspects of Lincoln Island,
arid and wild in one part, but fertile and rich in the other. On the
contrary this was a uniform mass of verdure, out of which rose two or
three hills of no great height. Obliquely to the oval of the island
ran a stream through a wide meadow falling into the sea on the west by
a narrow mouth.
"The domain is limited," said Herbert.
"Yes," rejoined Pencroft. "It would have been too small for us."
"And moreover," said the reporter, "it appears to be uninhabited."
"Indeed," answered Herbert, "nothing here betrays the presence of
man."
"Let us go down," said Pencroft, "and search."
The sailor and his two companions returned to the shore, to the place
where they had left the -Bonadventure-.
They had decided to make the tour of the island on foot, before
exploring the interior, so that not a spot should escape their
investigations. The beach was easy to follow, and only in some places
was their way barred by large rocks, which, however, they easily
passed round. The explorers proceeded towards the south, disturbing
numerous flocks of sea-birds and herds of seals, which threw
themselves into the sea as soon as they saw the strangers at a
distance.
"Those beasts yonder," observed the reporter, "do not see men for the
first time. They fear them, therefore they must know them."
An hour after their departure they arrived on the southern point of
the islet, terminated by a sharp cape, and proceeded towards the north
along the western coast, equally formed by sand and rocks, the
background bordered with thick woods.
There was not a trace of a habitation in any part, not the print of a
human foot on the shore of the island, which after four hours' walking
had been gone completely round.
It was to say the least very extraordinary, and they were compelled to
believe that Tabor Island was not or was no longer inhabited. Perhaps,
after all, the document was already several months or several years
old, and it was possible in this case, either that the castaway had
been enabled to return to his country, or that he had died of misery.
Pencroft, Spilett, and Herbert, forming more or less probable
conjectures, dined rapidly on board the -Bonadventure-, so as to be
able to continue their excursion until nightfall. This was done at
five o'clock in the evening, at which hour they entered the wood.
Numerous animals fled at their approach, being principally, one might
say, only goats and pigs, which it was easy to see belonged to
European species.
Doubtless some whaler had landed them on the island, where they had
rapidly increased. Herbert resolved to catch one or two living, and
take them back to Lincoln Island.
It was no longer doubtful that men at some period or other had visited
this islet, and this became still more evident when paths appeared
trodden through the forest, felled trees, and everywhere traces of the
hand of man; but the trees were becoming rotten, and had been felled
many years ago; the marks of the axe were velveted with moss, and the
grass grew long and thick on the paths, so that it was difficult to
find them.
"But," observed Gideon Spilett, "this not only proves that men have
landed on the island, but also that they lived on it for some time.
Now, who were these men? How many of them remain?"
"The document," said Herbert, "only spoke of one castaway."
"Well, if he is still on the island," replied Pencroft, "it is
impossible but that we shall find him."
The exploration was continued. The sailor and his companions naturally
followed the route which cut diagonally across the island, and they
were thus obliged to follow the stream which flowed towards the sea.
If the animals of European origin, if works due to a human hand,
showed incontestably that men had already visited the island, several
specimens of the vegetable kingdom did not prove it less. In some
places, in the midst of clearings, it was evident that the soil had
been planted with culinary plants, at probably the same distant
period.
What, then, was Herbert's joy, when he recognised potatoes, chicory,
sorrel, carrots, cabbages, and turnips, of which it was sufficient to
collect the seed to enrich the soil of Lincoln Island.
"Capital, jolly!" exclaimed Pencroft. "That will suit Neb as well as
us. Even if we do not find the castaway, at least our voyage will not
have been useless, and God will have rewarded us."
"Doubtless," replied Gideon Spilett; "but to see the state in which we
find these plantations, it is to be feared that the island has not
been inhabited for some time."
"Indeed," answered Herbert, "an inhabitant, whoever he was, could not
have neglected such an important culture!"
"Yes," said Pencroft, "the castaway has gone."
"We must suppose so."
"It must then be admitted that the document has already a distant
date?"
"Evidently."
"And that the bottle only arrived at Lincoln Island after having
floated in the sea a long time."
"Why not," returned Pencroft. "But night is coming on," added he, "and
I think that it will be best to give up the search for the present."
"Let us go on board, and to-morrow we will begin again," said the
reporter.
This was the wisest course, and it was about to be followed when
Herbert, pointing to a confused mass among the trees, exclaimed,--
"A hut!"
All three immediately ran towards the dwelling. In the twilight it was
just possible to see that it was built of planks and covered with a
thick tarpaulin.
The half-closed door was pushed open by Pencroft, who entered with a
rapid step.
The hut was empty!
[Illustration: A HUT!]
CHAPTER XIV
The Inventory -- Night -- A few Letters -- Continuation of
the Search -- Plants and Animals -- Herbert in great Danger
-- On Board -- The Departure -- Bad Weather -- A Gleam of
Reason -- Lost on the Sea -- A timely Light.
Pencroft, Herbert, and Gideon Spilett remained silent in the midst of
the darkness.
Pencroft shouted loudly.
No reply was made.
The sailor then struck a light and set fire to a twig. This lighted
for a minute a small room, which appeared perfectly empty. At the back
was a rude fireplace, with a few cold cinders, supporting an armful of
dry wood. Pencroft threw the blazing twig on it, the wood cracked and
gave forth a bright light.
The sailor and his two companions then perceived a disordered bed, of
which the damp and yellow coverlets proved that it had not been used
for a long time. In the corner of the fireplace were two kettles,
covered with rust, and an overthrown pot. A cupboard, with a few
mouldy sailor's clothes; on the table a tin plate and a Bible, eaten
away by damp; in a corner a few tools, a spade, pickaxe, two
fowling-pieces, one of which was broken; on a plank, forming a shelf,
stood a barrel of powder, still untouched, a barrel of shot, and
several boxes of caps, all thickly covered with dust, accumulated,
perhaps, by many long years.
"There is no one here," said the reporter.
"No one," replied Pencroft.
"It is a long time since this room has been inhabited," observed
Herbert.
"Yes, a very long time!" answered the reporter.
"Mr. Spilett," then said Pencroft, "instead of returning on board, I
think that it would be well to pass the night in this hut."
"You are right, Pencroft," answered Gideon Spilett, "and if its owner
returns, well! perhaps he will not be sorry to find the place taken
possession of."
"He will not return," said the sailor, shaking his head.
"You think that he has quitted the island?" asked the reporter.
"If he had quitted the island he would have taken away his weapons and
his tools," replied Pencroft. "You know the value which castaways set
on such articles as these, the last remains of a wreck? No! no!"
repeated the sailor, in a tone of conviction, "no, he has not left the
island! If he had escaped in a boat made by himself, he would still
less have left these indispensable and necessary articles. No! he is
on the island!"
"Living?" asked Herbert.
"Living or dead. But if he is dead, I suppose he has not buried
himself, and so we shall at least find his remains!"
It was then agreed that the night should be passed in the deserted
dwelling, and a store of wood found in a corner was sufficient to warm
it. The door closed, Pencroft, Herbert, and Spilett remained there,
seated on a bench, talking little but wondering much. They were in a
frame of mind to imagine anything or expect anything. They listened
eagerly for sounds outside. The door might have opened suddenly, and a
man presented himself to them without their being in the least
surprised, notwithstanding all that the hut revealed of abandonment,
and they had their hands ready to press the hands of this man, this
castaway, this unknown friend, for whom friends were waiting.
But no voice was heard, the door did not open. The hours thus passed
away.
How long the night appeared to the sailor and his companions! Herbert
alone slept for two hours, for at his age sleep is a necessity. They
were all three anxious to continue their exploration of the day
before, and to search the most secret recesses of the islet! The
inferences deduced by Pencroft were perfectly reasonable, and it was
nearly certain that, as the hut was deserted, and the tools, utensils,
and weapons were still there, the owner had succumbed. It was agreed,
therefore, that they should search for his remains, and give them at
least Christian burial.
Day dawned; Pencroft and his companions immediately proceeded to
survey the dwelling. It had certainly been built in a favourable
situation, at the back of a little hill, sheltered by five or six
magnificent gum trees. Before its front and through the trees the axe
had prepared a wide clearing, which allowed the view to extend to the
sea. Beyond a lawn, surrounded by a wooden fence falling to pieces,
was the shore, on the left of which was the mouth of the stream.
The hut had been built of planks, and it was easy to see that these
planks had been obtained from the hull or deck of a ship. It was
probable that a disabled vessel had been cast on the coast of the
island, that one at least of the crew had been saved, and that by
means of the wreck this man, having tools at his disposal, had built
the dwelling.
And this became still more evident when Gideon Spilett, after having
walked round the hut, saw on a plank, probably one of those which had
formed the armour of the wrecked vessel, these letters already half
effaced:--
"Br--tan--a."
"Britannia," exclaimed Pencroft, whom the reporter had called; "it is
a common name for ships, and I could not say if she was English or
American!"
"It matters very little, Pencroft!"
"Very little indeed," answered the sailor; "and we will save the
survivor of her crew if he is still living, to whatever country he may
belong. But before beginning our search again let us go on board the
-Bonadventure-."
A sort of uneasiness had seized Pencroft upon the subject of his
vessel. Should the island be inhabited after all, and should some one
have taken possession of her? But he shrugged his shoulders at such an
unreasonable supposition. At any rate the sailor was not sorry to go
to breakfast on board. The road already trodden was not long, scarcely
a mile. They set out on their walk, gazing into the wood and thickets
through which goats and pigs fled in hundreds.
Twenty minutes after leaving the hut Pencroft and his companions
reached the western coast of the island, and saw the -Bonadventure-
held fast by her anchor, which was buried deep in the sand.
Pencroft could not restrain a sigh of satisfaction. After all this
vessel was his child, and it is the right of fathers to be often
uneasy when there is no occasion for it.
They returned on board, breakfasted, so that it should not be
necessary to dine until very late; then the repast being ended, the
exploration was continued and conducted with the most minute care.
Indeed, it was very probable that the only inhabitant of the island
had perished. It was therefore more for the traces of a dead than of a
living man that Pencroft and his companions searched. But their
searches were vain, and during the half of that day they sought to no
purpose among the thickets of trees which covered the islet. There was
then scarcely any doubt that, if the castaway was dead, no trace of
his body now remained, but that some wild beast had probably devoured
it to the last bone.
"We will set off to-morrow at daybreak," said Pencroft to his two
companions, as about two o'clock they were resting for a few minutes
under the shade of a clump of firs.
"I should think that we might without scruple take the utensils which
belonged to the castaway," added Herbert.
"I think so too," returned Gideon Spilett; "and these arms and tools
will make up the stores of Granite House. The supply of powder and
shot is also most important."
"Yes," replied Pencroft; "but we must not forget to capture a couple
or two of those pigs, of which Lincoln Island is destitute--"
"Nor to gather those seeds," added Herbert, "which will give us all
the vegetables of the Old and the New Worlds."
"Then perhaps it would be best," said the reporter, "to remain a day
longer on Tabor Island, so as to collect all that may be useful to
us."
"No, Mr. Spilett," answered Pencroft, "I will ask you to set off
to-morrow at daybreak. The wind seems to me to be likely to shift to
the west, and after having had a fair wind for coming we shall have a
fair wind for going back."
"Then do not let us lose time," said Herbert, rising.
"We won't waste time," returned Pencroft. "You, Herbert, go and gather
the seeds, which you know better than we do. Whilst you do that, Mr.
Spilett and I will go and have a pig hunt, and even without Top I hope
we shall manage to catch a few!"
Herbert accordingly took the path which led towards the cultivated
part of the islet, whilst the sailor and the reporter entered the
forest.
Many specimens of the porcine race fled before them, and these
animals, which were singularly active, did not appear to be in a
humour to allow themselves to be approached.
However, after an hour's chase, the hunters had just managed to get
hold of a couple lying in a thicket, when cries were heard resounding
from the north part of the island. With the cries were mingled
terrible yells, in which there was nothing human.
Pencroft and Gideon Spilett were at once on their feet, and the pigs
by this movement began to run away, at the moment when the sailor was
getting ready the rope to bind them.
"That's Herbert's voice," said the reporter.
"Run!" exclaimed Pencroft.
And the sailor and Spilett immediately ran at full speed towards the
spot from whence the cries proceeded.
They did well to hasten, for at a turn of the path near a clearing
they saw the lad thrown on the ground and in the grasp of a savage
being, apparently a gigantic ape, who was about to do him some great
harm.
To rush on this monster, throw him on the ground in his turn, snatch
Herbert from him, then bind him securely, was the work of a minute for
Pencroft and Gideon Spilett. The sailor was of Herculean strength, the
reporter also very powerful, and in spite of the monster's resistance
he was firmly tied so that he could not even move.
"You are not hurt, Herbert," asked Spilett.
"No, no!"
"Oh, if this ape had wounded him!" exclaimed Pencroft.
"But he is not an ape," answered Herbert.
At these words Pencroft and Gideon Spilett looked at the singular
being who lay on the ground. Indeed it was not an ape, it was a human
being, a man. But what a man! A savage in all the horrible acceptation
of the word, and so much the more frightful that he seemed fallen to
the lowest degree of brutishness!
[Illustration: HERBERT IN DANGER]
Shaggy hair, untrimmed beard descending to the chest, the body almost
naked except a rag round the waist, wild eyes, enormous hands with
immensely long nails, skin the colour of mahogany, feet as hard as if
made of horn,--such was the miserable creature who yet had a claim to
be called a man. But it might justly be asked if there were yet a soul
in this body, or if the brute instinct alone survived in it!
"Are you quite sure that this is a man, or that he has ever been one?"
said Pencroft to the reporter.
"Alas! there is no doubt about it," replied Spilett.
"Then this must be the castaway?" asked Herbert.
"Yes," replied Gideon Spilett, "but the unfortunate man has no longer
anything human about him!"
The reporter spoke the truth. It was evident that if the castaway had
ever been a civilised being, solitude had made him a savage, or worse,
perhaps a regular man of the woods. Hoarse sounds issued from his
throat between his teeth, which were sharp as the teeth of a wild
beast made to tear raw flesh.
Memory must have deserted him long before, and for a long time also he
had forgotten how to use his gun and tools, and he no longer knew how
to make a fire! It could be seen that he was active and powerful, but
the physical qualities had been developed in him to the injury of the
moral qualities. Gideon Spilett spoke to him. He did not appear to
understand or even to hear. And yet on looking into his eyes, the
reporter thought he could see that all reason was not extinguished in
him. However, the prisoner did not struggle, nor even attempt to break
his bonds. Was he overwhelmed by the presence of men whose fellow he
had once been? Had he found in some corner of his brain a fleeting
remembrance which recalled him to humanity? If free, would he attempt
to fly, or would he remain? They could not tell, but they did not make
the experiment; and after gazing attentively at the miserable
creature,--
"Whoever he may be," remarked Gideon Spilett; "whoever he may have
been, and whatever he may become, it is our duty to take him with us
to Lincoln Island."
"Yes, yes!" replied Herbert; "and perhaps with care we may arouse in
him some gleam of intelligence."
"The soul does not die," said the reporter; "and it would be a great
satisfaction to rescue one of God's creatures from brutishness."
Pencroft shook his head doubtfully.
"We must try at any rate," returned the reporter; "humanity commands
us."
It was indeed their duty as Christians and civilised beings. All three
felt this, and they well knew that Cyrus Harding would approve of
their acting thus.
"Shall we leave him bound?" asked the sailor.
"Perhaps he would walk if his feet were unfastened," said Herbert.
"Let us try," replied Pencroft.
The cords which shackled the prisoner's feet were cut off, but his
arms remained securely fastened. He got up by himself and did not
manifest any desire to run away. His hard eyes darted a piercing
glance at the three men, who walked near him, but nothing denoted that
he recollected being their fellow, or at least having been so. A
continual hissing sound issued from his lips, his aspect was wild, but
he did not attempt to resist.
By the reporter's advice the unfortunate man was taken to the hut.
Perhaps the sight of the things that belonged to him would make some
impression on him! Perhaps a spark would be sufficient to revive his
obscured intellect, to rekindle his dulled soul. The dwelling was not
far off. In a few minutes they arrived there, but the prisoner
remembered nothing, and it appeared that he had lost consciousness of
everything.
What could they think of the degree of brutishness into which this
miserable being had fallen, unless that his imprisonment on the islet
dated from a very distant period, and after having arrived there a
rational being solitude had reduced him to this condition.
The reporter then thought that perhaps the sight of fire would have
some effect on him, and in a moment one of those beautiful flames,
that attract even animals, blazed up on the hearth. The sight of the
flame seemed at first to fix the attention of the unhappy object, but
soon he turned away and the look of intelligence faded. Evidently
there was nothing to be done, for the time at least, but to take him
on board the -Bonadventure-. This was done, and he remained there in
Pencroft's charge.
Herbert and Spilett returned to finish their work; and some hours
after they came back to the shore, carrying the utensils and guns, a
store of vegetables, of seeds, some game, and two couple of pigs.
All was embarked, and the -Bonadventure- was ready to weigh anchor and
sail with the morning tide.
The prisoner had been placed in the fore cabin, where he remained
quiet, silent, apparently deaf and dumb.
Pencroft offered him something to eat, but he pushed away the cooked
meat that was presented to him and which doubtless did not suit him.
But on the sailor showing him one of the ducks which Herbert had
killed, he pounced on it like a wild beast, and devoured it greedily.
"You think that he will recover his senses?" asked Pencroft. "It is
not impossible that our care will have an effect upon him, for it is
solitude that has made him what he is, and from this time forward he
will be no longer alone."
"The poor man must no doubt have been in this state for a long time,"
said Herbert.
"Perhaps," answered Gideon Spilett.
"About what age is he?" asked the lad.
"It is difficult to say," replied the reporter; "for it is impossible
to see his features under the thick beard which covers his face; but
he is no longer young, and I suppose he might be about fifty."
"Have you noticed, Mr. Spilett, how deeply sunk his eyes are?" asked
Herbert.
"Yes, Herbert; but I must add that they are more human than one could
expect from his appearance."
"However, we shall see," replied Pencroft; "and I am anxious to know
what opinion Captain Harding will have of our savage. We went to look
for a human creature, and we are bringing back a monster! After all we
did what we could."
The night passed, and whether the prisoner slept or not could not be
known; but at any rate, although he had been unbound, he did not move.
He was like a wild animal, which appears stunned at first by its
capture, and becomes wild again afterwards.
At daybreak the next morning, the 15th of October, the change of
weather predicted by Pencroft occurred. The wind having shifted to the
north-west favoured the return of the -Bonadventure-, but at the same
time it freshened, which would render navigation more difficult.
At five o'clock in the morning the anchor was weighed. Pencroft took a
reef in the mainsail, and steered towards the north-east, so as to
sail straight for Lincoln Island.
The first day of the voyage was not marked by any incident. The
prisoner remained quiet in the fore-cabin, and as he had been a sailor
it appeared that the motion of the vessel might produce on him a
salutary reaction. Did some recollection of his former calling return
to him? However that might be he remained tranquil, astonished rather
than depressed.
The next day the wind increased, blowing more from the north,
consequently in a less favourable direction for the -Bonadventure-.
Pencroft was soon obliged to sail close-hauled, and without saying
anything about it he began to be uneasy at the state of the sea, which
frequently broke over the bows. Certainly, if the wind did not
moderate, it would take a longer time to reach Lincoln Island than it
had taken to make Tabor Island.
Indeed, on the morning of the 17th, the -Bonadventure- had been
forty-eight hours at sea, and nothing showed that she was near the
island. It was impossible, besides, to estimate the distance
traversed, or to trust to the reckoning for the direction, as the
speed had been very irregular.
Twenty-four hours after there was yet no land in sight. The wind was
right ahead and the sea very heavy. The sails were close-reefed, and
they tacked frequently. On the 18th, a wave swept completely over the
-Bonadventure;- and if the crew had not taken the precaution of
lashing themselves to the deck, they would have been carried away.
On this occasion Pencroft and his companions, who were occupied with
loosing themselves, received unexpected aid from the prisoner, who
emerged from the hatchway as if his sailor's instinct had suddenly
returned, broke a piece out of the bulwarks with a spar so as to let
the water which filled the deck escape. Then the vessel being clear,
he descended to his cabin without having uttered a word. Pencroft,
Gideon Spilett, and Herbert, greatly astonished, let him proceed.
Their situation was truly serious, and the sailor had reason to fear
that he was lost on the wide sea without any possibility of recovering
his course.
The night was dark and cold. However, about eleven o'clock, the wind
fell, the sea went down, and the speed of the vessel, as she laboured
less, greatly increased.
Neither Pencroft, Spilett, nor Herbert thought of taking an hour's
sleep. They kept a sharp look-out, for either Lincoln Island
could not be far distant and would be sighted at daybreak, or the
-Bonadventure-, carried away by currents, had drifted so much that it
would be impossible to rectify her course. Pencroft, uneasy to the
last degree, yet did not despair, for he had a gallant heart, and
grasping the tiller he anxiously endeavoured to pierce the darkness
which surrounded them.
About two o'clock in the morning he started forward,--
"A light! a light!" he shouted.
Indeed, a bright light appeared twenty miles to the north-east.
Lincoln Island was there, and this fire, evidently lighted by Cyrus
Harding, showed them the course to be followed. Pencroft, who was
bearing too much to the north, altered his course and steered towards
the fire, which burned brightly above the horizon like a star of the
first magnitude.
[Illustration: A LIGHT! A LIGHT!]
CHAPTER XV
The Return -- Discussion -- Cyrus Harding and the Stranger --
Port Balloon -- The Engineer's Devotion -- A touching
Incident -- Tears flow.
The next day, the 20th of October, at seven o'clock in the morning,
after a voyage of four days, the -Bonadventure- gently glided up to
the beach at the mouth of the Mercy.
Cyrus Harding and Neb, who had become very uneasy at the bad weather
and the prolonged absence of their companions, had climbed at daybreak
to the plateau of Prospect Heights, and they had at last caught sight
of the vessel which had been so long in returning.
"God be praised! there they are!" exclaimed Cyrus Harding.
As to Neb in his joy, he began to dance, to twirl round, clapping his
hands and shouting, "Oh! my master!" A more touching pantomime than
the finest discourse.
The engineer's first idea, on counting the people on the deck of the
-Bonadventure-, was that Pencroft had not found the castaway of Tabor
Island, or at any rate that the unfortunate man had refused to leave
his island and change one prison for another.
Indeed Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert were alone on the deck of
the -Bonadventure-.
The moment the vessel touched, the engineer and Neb were waiting on
the beach, and before the passengers had time to leap on to the sand,
Harding said: "We have been very uneasy at your delay, my friends! Did
you meet with any accident?"
"No," replied Gideon Spilett; "on the contrary, everything went
wonderfully well. We will tell you all about it."
"However," returned the engineer, "your search has been unsuccessful,
since you are only three just as you went!"
"Excuse me, captain," replied the sailor, "we are four."
"You have found the castaway?"
"Yes."
"And you have brought him?"
"Yes."
"Living?"
"Yes."
"Where is he? Who is he?"
"He is," replied the reporter, "or rather he was, a man! There, Cyrus,
that is all we can tell you!"
The engineer was then informed of all that had passed during the
voyage, and under what conditions the search had been conducted; how
the only dwelling in the island had long been abandoned; how at last a
castaway had been captured, who appeared no longer to belong to the
human species.
"And that's just the point," added Pencroft, "I don't know if we have
done right to bring him here."
"Certainly you have, Pencroft," replied the engineer quickly.
"But the wretched creature has no sense!"
"That is possible at present," replied Cyrus Harding; "but only a few
months ago the wretched creature was a man like you and me. And who
knows what will become of the survivor of us after a long solitude on
this island? It is a great misfortune to be alone, my friends; and it
must be believed that solitude can quickly destroy reason, since you
have found this poor creature in such a state!"
"But, captain," asked Herbert, "what leads you to think that the
brutishness of the unfortunate man began only a few months back?"
"Because the document we found had been recently written," answered
the engineer, "and the castaway alone can have written it."
"Always supposing," observed Gideon Spilett, "that it had not been
written by a companion of this man, since dead."
"That is impossible, my dear Spilett."
"Why so?" asked the reporter.
"Because the document would then have spoken of two castaways,"
replied Harding, "and it mentioned only one."
Herbert then in a few words related the incidents of the voyage, and
dwelt on the curious fact of the sort of passing gleam in the
prisoner's mind, when for an instant in the height of the storm he had
become a sailor.
"Well, Herbert," replied the engineer, "you are right to attach great
importance to this fact. The unfortunate man cannot be incurable, and
despair has made him what he is; but here he will find his fellow-men,
and since there is still a soul in him, this soul we shall save!"
The castaway of Tabor Island, to the great pity of the engineer and
the great astonishment of Neb, was then brought from the cabin which
he occupied in the fore part of the -Bonadventure-; when once on land
he manifested a wish to run away.
But Cyrus Harding approaching, placed his hand on his shoulder with a
gesture full of authority, and looked at him with infinite tenderness.
Immediately the unhappy man, submitting to a superior will, gradually
became calm, his eyes fell, his head bent, and he made no more
resistance.
"Poor fellow!" murmured the engineer.
Cyrus Harding had attentively observed him. To judge by his appearance
this miserable being had no longer anything human about him, and yet
Harding, as had the reporter already, observed in his look an
indefinable trace of intelligence.
It was decided that the castaway, or rather the stranger, as he was
thenceforth termed by his companions, should live in one of the rooms
of Granite House, from which, however, he could not escape. He was led
there without difficulty; and with careful attention, it might,
perhaps, be hoped that some day he would be a companion to the
settlers in Lincoln Island.
Cyrus Harding, during breakfast, which Neb had hastened to prepare, as
the reporter, Herbert, and Pencroft were dying of hunger, heard in
detail all the incidents which had marked the voyage of exploration to
the islet. He agreed with his friends on this point, that the stranger
must be either English or American, the name Britannia leading them to
suppose this, and, besides, through the bushy beard, and under the
shaggy, matted hair, the engineer thought he could recognise the
characteristic features of the Anglo-Saxon.
[Illustration: "POOR FELLOW," MURMURED THE ENGINEER]
"But, by the bye," said Gideon Spilett, addressing Herbert, "you never
told us how you met this savage, and we know nothing, except that you
would have been strangled, if we had not happened to come up in time
to help you!"
"Upon my word," answered Herbert, "it is rather difficult to say how
it happened. I was, I think, occupied in collecting my plants, when I
heard a noise like an avalanche falling from a very tall tree. I
scarcely had time to look round. This unfortunate man, who was without
doubt concealed in a tree, rushed upon me in less time than I take to
tell you about it, and unless Mr. Spilett and Pencroft--"
"My boy!" said Cyrus Harding, "you ran a great danger, but, perhaps,
without that, the poor creature would have still hidden himself from
your search, and we should not have had a new companion."
"You hope, then, Cyrus, to succeed in reforming the man?" asked the
reporter.
"Yes," replied the engineer.
Breakfast over, Harding and his companions left Granite House and
returned to the beach. They there occupied themselves in unloading the
-Bonadventure-, and the engineer, having examined the arms and tools,
saw nothing which could help them to establish the identity of the
stranger.
The capture of pigs, made on the islet, was looked upon as being very
profitable to Lincoln Island, and the animals were led to the sty,
where they soon became at home.
The two barrels, containing the powder and shot, as well as the box of
caps, were very welcome. It was agreed to establish a small
powder-magazine, either outside Granite House or in the Upper Cavern,
where there would be no fear of explosion. However, the use of
pyroxyle was to be continued, for this substance giving excellent
results, there was no reason for substituting ordinary powder.
When the unloading of the vessel was finished,--
"Captain," said Pencroft, "I think it would be prudent to put our
-Bonadventure- in a safe place."
"Is she not safe at the mouth of the Mercy?" asked Cyrus Harding.
"No, captain," replied the sailor. "Half of the time she is stranded
on the sand, and that works her. She is a famous craft, you see, and
she behaved admirably during the squall which struck us on our
return."
"Could she not float in the river?"
"No doubt, captain, she could; but there is no shelter there, and in
the east winds, I think that the -Bonadventure- would suffer much from
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592
,
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1000