that our guns will bear without risk the expansion of the pyroxile gas,
and will give excellent results."
"We shall be a great deal more certain of that when we have tried them!"
answered Pencroft.
It is unnecessary to say that the four cannons were in perfect order.
Since they had been taken from the water, the sailor had bestowed great
care upon them. How many hours he had spent, in rubbing, greasing, and
polishing them, and in cleaning the mechanism! And now the pieces were
as brilliant as if they had been on board a frigate of the United
States' Navy.
On this day, therefore, in presence of all the members of the colony,
including Master Jup and Top, the four cannon were successively tried.
They were charged with pyroxile, taking into consideration its explosive
power, which, as has been said, is four times that of ordinary powder:
the projectile to be fired was cylindro-conic.
Pencroft, holding the end of the quick-match, stood ready to fire.
At Harding's signal, he fired. The shot, passing over the islet, fell
into the sea at a distance which could not be calculated with
exactitude.
The second gun was pointed at the rocks at the end of Flotsam Point, and
the shot, striking a sharp rock nearly three miles from Granite House,
made it fly into splinters. It was Herbert who had pointed this gun and
fired it, and very proud he was of his first shot. Pencroft only was
prouder than he! Such a shot, the honour of which belonged to his dear
boy.
The third shot, aimed this time at the downs forming the upper side of
Union Bay, struck the sand at a distance of four miles, then having
ricocheted, was lost in the sea in a cloud of spray.
For the fourth piece Cyrus Harding slightly increased the charge, so as
to try its extreme range. Then, all standing aside for fear of its
bursting, the match was lighted by means of a long cord.
A tremendous report was heard, but the piece had held good, and the
colonists rushing to the windows, saw the shot graze the rocks of
Mandible Cape, nearly five miles from Granite House, and disappear in
Shark Gulf.
"Well, captain," exclaimed Pencroft, whose cheers might have rivalled
the reports themselves, "what do you say of our battery? All the
pirates in the Pacific have only to present themselves before Granite
House! Not one can land there now without our permission!"
"Believe me, Pencroft," replied the engineer, "it would be better not to
have to make the experiment."
"Well," said the sailor, "what ought to be done with regard to those six
villains who are roaming about the island? Are we to leave them to
overrun our forests, our fields, our plantations. These pirates are
regular jaguars, and it seems to me we ought not to hesitate to treat
them as such! What do you think, Ayrton?" added Pencroft, turning to
his companion.
Ayrton hesitated at first to reply, and Cyrus Harding regretted that
Pencroft had so thoughtlessly put this question. And he was much moved
when Ayrton replied in a humble tone--
"I have been one of those jaguars, Mr Pencroft. I have no right to
speak."
And with a slow step he walked away.
Pencroft understood.
"What a brute I am!" he exclaimed. "Poor Ayrton! He has as much right
to speak here as any one!"
"Yes," said Gideon Spilett, "but his reserve does him honour, and it is
right to respect the feeling which he has about his sad past."
"Certainly, Mr Spilett," answered the sailor, "and there is no fear of
my doing so again. I would rather bite my tongue off than cause Ayrton
any pain! But to return to the question. It seems to me that these
ruffians have no right to any pity, and that we ought to rid the island
of them as soon as possible."
"Is that your opinion, Pencroft?" asked the engineer.
"Quite my opinion."
"And before hunting them mercilessly, you would not wait until they had
committed some fresh act of hostility against us?"
"Isn't what they have done already enough?" asked Pencroft, who did not
understand these scruples.
"They may adopt other sentiments!" said Harding, "and perhaps repent."
"They repent!" exclaimed the sailor, shrugging his shoulders.
"Pencroft, think of Ayrton!" said Herbert, taking the sailor's hand.
"He became an honest man again!"
Pencroft looked at his companions one after the other. He had never
thought of his proposal being met with any objection. His rough nature
could not allow that they ought to come to terms with the rascals who
had landed on the island with Bob Harvey's accomplices, the murderers of
the crew of the -Speedy-; and he looked upon them as wild beasts which
ought to be destroyed without delay and without remorse.
"Come!" said he. "Everybody is against me! You wish to be generous to
those villains! Very well; I hope we mayn't repent it!"
"What danger shall we run," said Herbert, "if we take care to be always
on our guard!"
"Hum!" observed the reporter, who had not given any decided opinion.
"They are six and well-armed. If they each lay hid in a corner, and
each fired at one of us, they would soon be masters of the colony!"
"Why have they not done so?" said Herbert. "No doubt because it was not
their interest to do it. Besides, we are six also."
"Well, well!" replied Pencroft, whom no reasoning could have convinced.
"Let us leave these good people to do what they like, and don't think
anything more about them!"
"Come, Pencroft," said Neb, "don't make yourself out so bad as all that!
Suppose one of these unfortunate men were here before you, within good
range of your gun, you would not fire."
"I would fire on him as I would on a mad dog, Neb," replied Pencroft
coldly.
"Pencroft," said the engineer, "you have always shown much deference to
my advice; will you, in this matter, yield to me?"
"I will do as you please, Captain Harding," answered the sailor, who was
not at all convinced.
"Very well, wait, and we will not attack them unless we are attacked
first."
Thus their behaviour towards the pirates was agreed upon, although
Pencroft augured nothing good from it. They were not to attack them,
but were to be on their guard. After all, the island was large and
fertile. If any sentiment of honesty yet remained in the bottom of
their hearts, these wretches might perhaps be reclaimed. Was it not
their interest in the situation in which they found themselves to begin
a new life? At any rate, for humanity's sake alone, it would be right
to wait. The colonists would no longer, as before, be able to go and
come without fear. Hitherto they had only wild beasts to guard against,
and now six convicts of the worst description, perhaps, were roaming
over their island. It was serious, certainly, and to less brave men, it
would have been security lost! No matter! At present, the colonists
had reason on their side against Pencroft. Would they be right in the
future? That remained to be seen.
CHAPTER SIX.
EXPEDITIONS PLANNED--AYRTON AT THE CORRAL--VISIT TO PORT BALLOON--
PENCROFT'S OBSERVATIONS ON BOARD THE BONADVENTURE--DESPATCH SENT TO THE
CORRAL--NO REPLY FROM AYRTON--DEPARTURE THE NEXT DAY--THE REASON WHY THE
WIRE DID NOT WORK--A REPORT.
However, the chief business of the colonists was to make that complete
exploration of the island which had been decided upon, and which would
have two objects: to discover the mysterious being whose existence was
now indisputable, and at the same time to find out what had become of
the pirates, what retreat they had chosen, what sort of life they were
leading, and what was to be feared from them. Cyrus Harding wished to
set out without delay; but as the expedition would be of some days'
duration, it appeared best to load the cart with different materials and
tools in order to facilitate the organisation of the encampments. One
of the onagers, however, having hurt its leg, could not be harnessed at
present, and a few days' rest was necessary. The departure was,
therefore, put off for a week, until the 20th of November. The month of
November in this latitude corresponds to the month of May in the
northern zones. It was, therefore, the fine season. The sun was
entering the tropic of Capricorn, and gave the longest days in the year.
The time was, therefore, very favourable for the projected expedition,
which, if it did not accomplish its principal object, would at any rate
be fruitful in discoveries, especially of natural productions, since
Harding proposed to explore those dense forests of the Far West, which
stretched to the extremity of the Serpentine Peninsula.
During the nine days which preceded their departure, it was agreed that
the work on Prospect Heights should be finished off.
Moreover, it was necessary for Ayrton to return to the corral, where the
domesticated animals required his care. It was decided that he should
spend two days there, and return to Granite House after having liberally
supplied the stables.
As he was about to start, Harding asked him if he would not like one of
them to accompany him, observing that the island was less safe than
formerly. Ayrton replied that this was unnecessary, as he was enough
for the work, and that besides he apprehended no danger. If anything
occurred at the corral, or in the neighbourhood, he could instantly warn
the colonists by sending a telegram to Granite House.
Ayrton departed at dawn on the 9th, taking the cart drawn by one onager,
and two hours after, the electric wire announced that he had found all
in order at the corral.
During these two days Harding busied himself in executing a project
which would completely guard Granite House against any surprise. It was
necessary to completely conceal the opening of the old outlet, which was
already walled up and partly hidden under grass and plants, at the
southern angle of Lake Grant. Nothing was easier, since if the level of
the lake was raised two or three feet, the opening would be quite
beneath it. Now, to raise this level they had only to establish a dam
at the two openings made by the lake, and by which were fed Creek
Glycerine and Falls River.
The colonists worked with a will, and the two dams, which besides did
not exceed eight feet in width by three in height, were rapidly erected
by means of well-cemented blocks of stone.
This work finished, it would have been impossible to guess that at that
part of the lake, there existed a subterranean passage through which the
overflow of the lake formerly escaped.
Of course the little stream which fed the reservoir of Granite House and
worked the lift had been carefully preserved, and the water could not
fail. The lift once raised, this sure and comfortable retreat would be
safe from any surprise.
This work had been so quickly done, that Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and
Herbert found time to make an expedition to Port Balloon. The sailor
was very anxious to know if the little creek in which the -Bonadventure-
was moored, had been visited by the convicts.
"These gentlemen," he observed, "landed on the south coast, and if they
followed the shore, it is to be feared that they may have discovered the
little harbour, and in that case, I wouldn't give half-a-dollar for our
-Bonadventure-."
Pencroft's apprehensions were not without foundation, and a visit to
Port Balloon appeared to be very desirable. The sailor and his
companions set off on the 10th of November, after dinner, well-armed.
Pencroft, ostentatiously slipping two bullets into each barrel of his
rifle, shook his head in a way which betokened nothing good to any one
who approached too near to him, whether "man or beast," as he said.
Gideon Spilett and Herbert also took their guns, and about three o'clock
all three left Granite House.
Neb accompanied them to the turn of the Mercy, and after they had
crossed, he raised the bridge. It was agreed that a gun-shot should
announce the colonists' return, and that at the signal Neb should return
and re-establish the communication between the two banks of the river.
The little band advanced directly along the road which led to the
southern coast of the island. This was only a distance of three miles
and a half, but Gideon Spilett and his companions took two hours to
traverse it. They examined all the border of the road, the thick
forest, as well as Tabor Marsh. They found no trace of the fugitives
who, no doubt, not having yet discovered the number of the colonists, or
the means of defence which they had at their disposal, had gained the
less accessible parts of the island.
Arrived at Port Balloon, Pencroft saw with extreme satisfaction that the
-Bonadventure- was tranquilly floating in the narrow creek. However,
Port Balloon was so well hidden amongst high rocks that it could
scarcely be discovered either from the land or the sea.
"Come," said Pencroft, "the blackguards have not been there yet. Long
grass suits reptiles best, and evidently we shall find them in the Far
West."
"And it's very lucky, for if they had found the -Bonadventure-," added
Herbert, "they would have gone off in her, and we should have been
prevented from returning to Tabor Island."
"Indeed," remarked the reporter, "it will be important to take a
document there which will make known the situation of Lincoln Island,
and Ayrton's new residence, in case the Scotch yacht returns to fetch
him."
"Well, the -Bonadventure- is always there, Mr Spilett," answered the
sailor. "She and her crew are ready to start at a moment's notice!"
"I think, Pencroft, that that is a thing to be done after our
exploration of the island is finished. It is possible after all that
the stranger, if we manage to find him, may know as much about Tabor
Island as about Lincoln Island. Do not forget that he is certainly the
author of the document, and he may, perhaps, know how far we may count
on the return of the yacht!"
"But!" exclaimed Pencroft, "who in the world can he be? The fellow
knows us and we know nothing about him! If he is a simple castaway, why
should he conceal himself? We are honest men, I suppose, and the
society of honest men isn't unpleasant to any one. Did he come here
voluntarily? Can he leave the island if he likes? Is he here still?
Will he remain any longer?"
Chatting thus, Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert got on board and
looked about the deck of the -Bonadventure-. All at once, the sailor
having examined the bitts to which the cable of the anchor was secured--
"Hallo," he cried, "this is queer!"
"What is the matter, Pencroft?" asked the reporter.
"The matter is, that it was not I who made this knot!"
And Pencroft showed a rope which fastened the cable to the bitt itself.
"What, it was not you?" asked Gideon Spilett.
"No! I can swear to it. This is a reef knot, and I always make a
running bowline."
"You must be mistaken, Pencroft."
"I am not mistaken!" declared the sailor. "My hand does it so
naturally, and one's hand is never mistaken!"
"Then can the convicts have been on board?" asked Herbert.
"I know nothing about that," answered Pencroft, "but what is certain, is
that some one has weighed the -Bonadventure's- anchor and dropped it
again! And look here, here is another proof! The cable of the anchor
has been run out, and its service is no longer at the hawse-hole. I
repeat that some one has been using our vessel!"
"But if the convicts had used her, they would have pillaged her, or
rather gone off with her."
"Gone off! where to--to Tabor Island?" replied Pencroft. "Do you think
they would risk themselves in a boat of such small tonnage?"
"We must, besides, be sure that they know of the islet," rejoined the
reporter.
"However that may be," said the sailor, "as sure as my name is
Bonadventure Pencroft, of the Vineyard, our -Bonadventure- has sailed
without us!"
The sailor was so positive that neither Gideon Spilett nor Herbert could
dispute his statement. It was evident that the vessel had been moved,
more or less, since Pencroft had brought her to Port Balloon. As to the
sailor, he had not the slightest doubt that the anchor had been raised
and then dropped again. Now, what was the use of these two manoeuvres,
unless the vessel had been employed in some expedition?
"But how was it we did not see the -Bonadventure- pass in sight of the
island?" observed the reporter, who was anxious to bring forward every
possible objection.
"Why, Mr Spilett," replied the sailor, "they would only have to start
in the night with a good breeze, and they would be out of sight of the
island in two hours."
"Well," resumed Gideon Spilett, "I ask again, what object could the
convicts have had in using the -Bonadventure-, and why, after they had
made use of her, should they have brought her back to port?"
"Why, Mr Spilett," replied the sailor, "we must put that among the
unaccountable things, and not think anything more about it. The chief
thing is that the -Bonadventure- was there, and she is there now. Only,
unfortunately, if the convicts take her a second time, we shall very
likely not find her again in her place!"
"Then, Pencroft," said Herbert, "would it not be wisest to bring the
-Bonadventure- off to Granite House?"
"Yes and no," answered Pencroft, "or rather no. The mouth of the Mercy
is a bad place for a vessel, and the sea is heavy there."
"But by hauling her up on the sand, to the foot of the Chimneys?"
"Perhaps yes," replied Pencroft. "At any rate, since we must leave
Granite House for a long expedition, I think the -Bonadventure- will be
safer here during our absence, and we shall do best to leave her here
until the island is rid of these blackguards."
"That is exactly my opinion," said the reporter. "At any rate in the
event of bad weather, she will not be exposed here as she would be at
the mouth of the Mercy."
"But suppose the convicts pay her another visit," said Herbert.
"Well, my boy," replied Pencroft, "not finding her here, they would not
be long in finding her on the sands of Granite House, and, during our
absence, nothing could hinder them from seizing her! I agree,
therefore, with Mr Spilett, that she must be left in Port Balloon.
But, if on our return we have not rid the island of those rascals, it
will be prudent to bring our boat to Granite House, until the time when
we need not fear any unpleasant visits."
"That's settled. Let us be off," said the reporter.
Pencroft, Herbert, and Gideon Spilett, on their return to Granite House,
told the engineer all that had passed, and the latter approved of their
arrangements both for the present and the future. He also promised the
sailor that he would study that part of the channel situated between the
islet and the coast; so as to ascertain if it would not be possible to
make an artificial harbour there by means of dams. In this way, the
-Bonadventure- would be always within reach, under the eyes of the
colonists, and if necessary, under lock and key.
That evening a telegram was sent to Ayrton, requesting him to bring from
the corral a couple of goats, which Neb wished to acclimatise to the
plateau. Singularly enough, Ayrton did not acknowledge the receipt of
the despatch, as he was accustomed to do. This could not but astonish
the engineer. But it might be that Ayrton was not at that moment in the
corral, or even that he was on his way back to Granite House. In fact,
two days had already passed since his departure, and it had been decided
that on the evening of the 10th or at the latest the morning of the
11th, he should return. The colonists waited, therefore, for Ayrton to
appear on Prospect Heights. Neb and Herbert even watched at the bridge
so as to be ready to lower it the moment their companion presented
himself.
But up to ten in the evening, there were no signs of Ayrton. It was,
therefore, judged best to send a fresh despatch, requiring an immediate
reply.
The bell of the telegraph at Granite House remained mute.
The colonists' uneasiness was great. What had happened? Was Ayrton no
longer at the corral, or if he was still there, had he no longer control
over his movements? Could they go to the corral in this dark night?
They consulted. Some wished to go, the others to remain.
"But," said Herbert, "perhaps some accident had happened to the
telegraphic apparatus, so that it works no longer?"
"That may be," said the reporter.
"Wait till to-morrow," replied Cyrus Harding. "It is possible, indeed,
that Ayrton has not received our despatch, or even that we have not
received his."
They waited, of course not without some anxiety.
At dawn of day, the 11th of November, Harding again sent the electric
current along the wire and received no reply.
He tried again: the same result.
"Off to the corral," said he.
"And well-armed!" added Pencroft.
It was immediately decided that Granite House should not be left alone
and that Neb should remain there. After having accompanied his friends
to Creek Glycerine, he raised the bridge; and waiting behind a tree he
watched for the return of either his companions or Ayrton.
In the event of the pirates presenting themselves and attempting to
force the passage, he was to endeavour to stop them by firing on them,
and as a last resource he was to take refuge in Granite House, where,
the lift once raised, he would be in safety.
Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, Herbert, and Pencroft were to repair to
the corral, and if they did not find Ayrton, search the neighbouring
woods.
At six o'clock in the morning, the engineer and his three companions had
passed Creek Glycerine, and Neb posted himself behind a small mound
crowned by several dragoniners on the left bank of the stream.
The colonists, after leaving the plateau of Prospect Heights,
immediately took the road to the corral. They shouldered their guns,
ready to fire on the smallest hostile demonstration. The two rifles and
the two guns had been loaded with ball.
The wood was thick on each side of the road and might easily have
concealed the convicts, who owing to their weapons would have been
really formidable.
The colonists walked rapidly and in silence. Top preceded them,
sometimes running on the road, sometimes taking a ramble into the wood,
but always quiet and not appearing to fear anything unusual. And they
could be sure that the faithful dog would not allow them to be
surprised, but would bark at the least appearance of danger.
Cyrus Harding and his companions followed beside the road the wire which
connected the corral with Granite House. After walking for nearly two
miles, they had not as yet discovered any explanation of the difficulty.
The posts were in good order, the wire regularly expended. However, at
that moment the engineer observed that the wire appeared to be slack,
and on arriving at post Number 74, Herbert, who was in advance stopped,
exclaiming--
"The wire is broken!"
His companions hurried forward and arrived at the spot where the lad was
standing. The post was rooted up and lying across the path. The
unexpected explanation of the difficulty was here, and it was evident
that the despatches from Granite House had not been received at the
corral, nor those from the corral at Granite House.
"It wasn't the wind that blew down this post," observed Pencroft.
"No," replied Gideon Spilett. "The earth has been dug up round its
foot, and it has been torn up by the hand of man."
"Besides, the wire is broken," added Herbert, showing that the wire had
been snapped.
"Is the fracture recent?" asked Harding.
"Yes," answered Herbert, "it has certainly been done quite lately."
"To the corral! to the corral!" exclaimed the sailor.
The colonists were now half way between Granite House and the corral,
having still two miles and a half to go. They pressed forward with
redoubled speed.
Indeed, it was to be feared that some serious accident had occurred in
the corral. No doubt, Ayrton might have sent a telegram which had not
arrived, but this was not the reason why his companions were so uneasy,
for, a more unaccountable circumstance, Ayrton, who had promised to
return the evening before, had not reappeared. In short, it was not
without a motive that all communication had been stopped between the
corral and Granite House, and who but the convicts could have any
interest in interrupting this communication?
The settlers hastened on, their hearts oppressed with anxiety. They
were sincerely attached to their new companion. Were they to find him
struck down by the hands of those of whom he was formerly the leader?
Soon they arrived at the place where the road led along the side of a
little stream which flowed from the Red Creek and watered the meadows of
the corral. They then moderated their pace so that they should not be
out of breath at the moment when a struggle might be necessary. Their
guns were in their hands ready cocked. The forest was watched on every
side. Top uttered sullen groans which were rather ominous.
At last the palisade appeared through the trees. No trace of any damage
could be seen. The gate was shut as usual. Deep silence reigned in the
corral. Neither the accustomed bleating of the sheep nor Ayrton's voice
could be heard.
"Let us enter," said Cyrus Harding.
And the engineer advanced, whilst his companions, keeping watch about
twenty paces behind him, were ready to fire at a moment's notice.
Harding raised the inner latch of the gate and was about to push it
back, when Top barked loudly. A report sounded and was responded to by
a cry of pain.
Herbert, struck by a bullet, lay stretched on the ground.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
THE REPORTER AND PENCROFT IN THE CORRAL--HERBERT'S WOUND--THE SAILOR'S
DESPAIR--CONSULTATION BETWEEN THE REPORTER AND THE ENGINEER--MODE OF
TREATMENT--HOPE NOT ABANDONED--HOW IS NEB TO BE WARNED--A SURE AND
FAITHFUL MESSENGER--NEB'S REPLY.
At Herbert's cry Pencroft, letting his gun fall, rushed towards him.
"They have killed him!" he cried. "My boy! They have killed him!"
Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett ran to Herbert.
The reporter listened to ascertain if the poor lad's heart was still
beating.
"He lives," said he; "but he must be carried--"
"To Granite House? that is impossible!" replied the engineer.
"Into the corral, then!" said Pencroft.
"In a moment," said Harding.
And he ran round the left corner of the palisade. There he found a
convict who, aiming at him, sent a ball through his hat. In a few
seconds, before he had even time to fire his second barrel, he fell,
struck to the heart by Harding's dagger, more sure even than his gun.
During this time, Gideon Spilett and the sailor hoisted themselves over
the palisade, leapt into the enclosure, threw down the props which
supported the inner door, ran into the empty house, and soon poor
Herbert was lying on Ayrton's bed. In a few moments, Harding was by his
side.
On seeing Herbert senseless, the sailor's grief was terrible. He
sobbed, he cried, he tried to beat his head against the wall. Neither
the engineer nor the reporter could calm him. They themselves were
choked with emotion. They could not speak.
However, they knew that it depended on them to rescue from death the
poor boy who was suffering beneath their eyes. Gideon Spilett had not
passed through the many incidents by which his life had been chequered
without acquiring some slight knowledge of medicine. He knew a little
of everything, and several times he had been obliged to attend to wounds
produced either by a sword-bayonet or shot. Assisted by Cyrus Harding,
he proceeded to render the aid Herbert required.
The reporter was immediately struck by the complete stupor in which
Herbert lay, a stupor owing either to the haemorrhage, or to the shock,
the ball having struck a bone with sufficient force to produce a violent
concussion.
Herbert was deadly pale, and his pulse so feeble that Spilett only felt
it beat at long intervals, as if it was on the point of stopping. These
symptoms were very serious. Herbert's chest was laid bare, and the
blood having been staunched with handkerchiefs, it was bathed with cold
water. The contusion, or rather the contused wound appeared,--an oval
below the chest between the third and fourth ribs. It was there that
Herbert had been hit by the bullet.
Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett then turned the poor boy over; as they
did so, he uttered a moan so feeble that they almost thought it was his
last sigh.
Herbert's back was covered with blood from another contused wound, by
which the ball had immediately escaped.
"God be praised!" said the reporter, "the ball is not in the body, and
we shall not have to extract it."
"But the heart?" asked Harding.
"The heart has not been touched; if it had been, Herbert would be dead!"
"Dead!" exclaimed Pencroft, with a groan. The sailor had only heard the
last words uttered by the reporter.
"No, Pencroft," replied Cyrus Harding, "no! He is not dead. His pulse
still beats. He has even uttered a moan. But for your boy's sake, calm
yourself. We have need of all our self-possession. Do not make us lose
it, my friend."
Pencroft was silent, but a reaction set in, and great tears rolled down
his cheeks.
In the meanwhile, Gideon Spilett endeavoured to collect his ideas, and
proceed methodically. After his examination he had no doubt that the
ball, entering in front, between the seventh and eighth ribs, had issued
behind between the third and fourth. But what mischief had the ball
committed in its passage? What important organs had been reached? A
professional surgeon would have had difficulty in determining this at
once, and still more so the reporter.
However, he knew one thing, this was that he would have to prevent the
inflammatory strangulation of the injured parts, then to contend with
the local inflammation and fever which would result from the wound,
perhaps mortal! Now, what stiptics, what antiphlogistics ought to be
employed? By what means could inflammation be prevented?
At any rate, the most important thing was that the two wounds should be
dressed without delay. It did not appear necessary to Gideon Spilett
that a fresh flow of blood should be caused by bathing them in tepid
water, and compressing their lips. The haemorrhage had been very
abundant, and Herbert was already too much enfeebled by the loss of
blood.
The reporter, therefore, thought it best to simply bathe the two wounds
with cold water.
Herbert was placed on his left side, and was maintained in that
position.
"He must not be moved," said Gideon Spilett. "He is in the most
favourable position for the wounds in his back and chest to suppurate
easily, and absolute rest is necessary."
"What! can't we carry him to Granite House?" asked Pencroft.
"No, Pencroft," replied the reporter.
"I'll pay the villains off!" cried the sailor, shaking his fist in a
menacing manner.
"Pencroft!" said Cyrus Harding.
Gideon Spilett had resumed his examination of the wounded boy. Herbert
was still so frightfully pale that the reporter felt anxious.
"Cyrus," said he, "I am not a surgeon. I am in terrible perplexity.
You must aid me with your advice, your experience!"
"Take courage, my friend," answered the engineer, pressing the
reporter's hand. "Judge coolly. Think only of this: Herbert must be
saved!"
These words restored to Gideon Spilett that self-possession which he had
lost in a moment of discouragement on feeling his great responsibility.
He seated himself close to the bed. Cyrus Harding stood near. Pencroft
had torn up his shirt, and was mechanically making lint.
Spilett then explained to Cyrus Harding that he thought he ought first
of all to stop the haemorrhage, but not close the two wounds, or cause
their immediate cicatrisation, for there had been internal perforation,
and the suppuration must not be allowed to accumulate in the chest.
Harding approved entirely, and it was decided that the two wounds should
be dressed without attempting to close them by immediate coaptation.
And now, did the colonists possess an efficacious agent to act against
the inflammation which might occur?
Yes. They had one, for nature had generously lavished it. They had
cold water, that is to say, the most powerful sedative that can be
employed against inflammation of wounds, the most efficacious
therapeutic agent in grave cases, and the one which is now adopted by
all physicians. Cold water has, moreover, the advantage of leaving the
wound in absolute rest, and preserving it from all premature dressing, a
considerable advantage, since it has been found by experience that
contact with the air is dangerous during the first days.
Gideon Spilett and Cyrus Harding reasoned thus with their simple good
sense, and they acted as the best surgeon would have done. Compresses
of linen were applied to poor Herbert's two wounds, and were kept
constantly wet with cold water.
The sailor had at first lighted a fire in the hut, which was not wanting
in things necessary for life. Maple sugar, medicinal plants, the same
which the lad had gathered on the banks of Lake Grant, enabled them to
make some refreshing drinks, which they gave him without his taking any
notice of it. His fever was extremely high, and all that day and night
passed without his becoming conscious.
Herbert's life hung on a thread, and this thread might break at any
moment. The next day, the 12th of November, the hopes of Harding and
his companions slightly revived. Herbert had come out of his long
stupor. He opened his eyes, he recognised Cyrus Harding, the reporter,
and Pencroft. He uttered two or three words. He did not know what had
happened. They told him, and Spilett begged him to remain perfectly
still, telling him that his life was not in danger, and that his wounds
would heal in a few days. However, Herbert scarcely suffered at all,
and the cold water with which they were constantly bathed, prevented any
inflammation of the wounds. The suppuration was established in a
regular way, the fever did not increase, and it might now be hoped that
this terrible wound would not involve any catastrophe. Pencroft felt
the swelling of his heart gradually subside. He was like a sister of
mercy, like a mother by the bed of her child.
Herbert dozed again, but his sleep appeared more natural.
"Tell me again that you hope, Mr Spilett," said Pencroft. "Tell me
again that you will save Herbert!"
"Yes, we will save him!" replied the reporter. "The wound is serious,
and, perhaps, even the ball has traversed the lungs, but the perforation
of this organ is not fatal."
"God bless you!" answered Pencroft.
As may be believed, during the four-and-twenty hours they had been in
the corral, the colonists had no other thought than that of nursing
Herbert. They did not think either of the danger which threatened them
should the convicts return, or of the precautions to be taken for the
future.
But on this day, whilst Pencroft watched by the sick-bed, Cyrus Harding
and the reporter consulted as to what it would be best to do.
First of all they examined the corral. There was not a trace of Ayrton.
Had the unhappy man been dragged away by his former accomplices? Had
he resisted, and been overcome in the struggle? This last supposition
was only too probable. Gideon Spilett, at the moment he scaled the
palisade, had clearly seen some one of the convicts running along the
southern spur of Mount Franklin, towards whom Top had sprung. It was
one of those whose object had been so completely defeated by the rocks
at the mouth of the Mercy. Besides, the one killed by Harding, and
whose body was found outside the enclosure, of course belonged to Bob
Harvey's crew.
As to the corral, it had not suffered any damage. The gates were
closed, and the animals had not been able to disperse in the forest.
Nor could they see traces of any struggle, any devastation, either in
the hut, or in the palisade. The ammunition only, with which Ayrton had
been supplied, had disappeared with him.
"The unhappy man has been surprised," said Harding, "and as he was a man
to defend himself, he must have been overpowered."
"Yes, that is to be feared!" said the reporter. "Then, doubtless, the
convicts installed themselves in the corral where they found plenty of
everything, and only fled when they saw us coming. It is very evident,
too, that at this moment Ayrton, whether living or dead, is not here!"
"We shall have to beat the forest," said the engineer, "and rid the
island of these wretches. Pencroft's presentiments were not mistaken,
when he wished to hunt them as wild beasts. That would have spared us
all these misfortunes!"
"Yes," answered the reporter, "but now we have the right to be
merciless!"
"At any rate," said the engineer, "we are obliged to wait some time, and
to remain at the corral until we can carry Herbert without danger to
Granite House."
"But Neb?" asked the reporter.
"Neb is in safety."
"But if, uneasy at our absence, he would venture to come?"
"He must not come!" returned Cyrus Harding quickly. "He would be
murdered on the road!"
"It is very probable, however, that he will attempt to rejoin us!"
"Ah, if the telegraph still acted, he might be warned! But that is
impossible now! As to leaving Pencroft and Herbert here alone, we could
not do it! Well, I will go alone to Granite House."
"No, no! Cyrus," answered the reporter, "you must not expose yourself!
Your courage would be of no avail. The villains are evidently watching
the corral, they are hidden in the thick woods which surround it, and if
you go we shall soon have to regret two misfortunes instead of one!"
"But Neb?" repeated the engineer. "It is now four-and-twenty hours
since he has had any news of us! He will be sure to come!"
"And as he will be less on his guard than we should be ourselves," added
Spilett, "he will be killed!"
"Is there really no way of warning him?"
Whilst the engineer thought, his eyes fell on Top, who, going backwards
and forwards, seemed to say--
"Am not I here?"
"Top!" exclaimed Cyrus Harding.
The animal sprang at his master's call.
"Yes, Top will go," said the reporter, who had understood the engineer.
"Top can go where we cannot! He will carry to Granite House the news of
the corral, and he will bring back to us that from Granite House!"
"Quick!" said Harding. "Quick!"
Spilett rapidly tore a leaf from his notebook, and wrote these words:--
"Herbert wounded. We are at the corral. Be on your guard. Do not
leave Granite House. Have the convicts appeared in the neighbourhood?
Reply by Top."
This laconic note contained all that Neb ought to know, and at the same
time asked all the colonists wished to know. It was folded and fastened
to Top's collar in a conspicuous position.
"Top, my dog," said the engineer, caressing the animal, "Neb, Top! Neb!
Go, go!"
Top bounded at these words. He understood, he knew what was expected of
him. The road to the corral was familiar to him. In less than an hour
he could clear it, and it might be hoped that where neither Cyrus
Harding nor the reporter could have ventured without danger, Top,
running amongst the grass or in the wood, would pass unperceived.
The engineer went to the gate of the corral and opened it.
"Neb, Top! Neb!" repeated the engineer, again pointing in the direction
of Granite House.
Top sprang forwards, and almost immediately disappeared.
"He will get there!" said the reporter.
"Yes, and he will come back, the faithful animal!"
"What o'clock is it?" asked Gideon Spilett.
"Ten."
"In an hour he may be here. We will watch for his return."
The gate of the corral was closed. The engineer and the reporter
re-entered the house. Herbert was still in a sleep. Pencroft kept the
compresser always wet. Spilett, seeing there was nothing he could do at
that moment, busied himself in preparing some nourishment, whilst
attentively watching that part of the enclosure against the hill, at
which an attack might be expected.
The settlers awaited Top's return with much anxiety. A little before
eleven o'clock, Cyrus Harding and the reporter, rifle in hand, were
behind the gate, ready to open it at the first bark of their dog.
They did not doubt that if Top had arrived safely at Granite House, Neb
would have sent him back immediately.
They had both been there for about ten minutes, when a report was heard,
followed by repeated barks.
The engineer opened the gate, and seeing smoke a hundred feet off in the
wood, he fired in that direction.
Almost immediately Top bounded into the corral, and the gate was quickly
shut.
"Top, Top!" exclaimed the engineer, taking the dog's great honest head
between his hands.
A note was fastened to his neck, and Cyrus Harding read these words,
traced in Neb's large writing:--
"No pirates in the neighbourhood of Granite House. I will not stir.
Poor Mr Herbert!"
CHAPTER EIGHT.
THE CONVICTS IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF THE CORRAL--PROVISIONAL
ESTABLISHMENT--CONTINUATION OF THE TREATMENT OF HERBERT--PENCROFT'S
FIRST REJOICINGS--CONVERSATION ON PAST EVENTS--WHAT THE FUTURE HAS IN
RESERVE--CYRUS HARDING'S IDEAS ON THIS SUBJECT.
So the convicts were still there, watching the corral, and determined to
kill the settlers one after the other. There was nothing to be done but
to treat them as wild beasts. But great precautions must be taken, for
just now the wretches had the advantage on their side, seeing, and not
being seen, being able to surprise by the suddenness of their attack,
yet not to be surprised themselves. Harding made arrangements,
therefore, for living in the corral, of which the provisions would last
for a tolerable length of time. Ayrton's house had been provided with
all that was necessary for existence, and the convicts, scared by the
arrival of the settlers, had not had time to pillage it. It was
probable, as Gideon Spilett observed, that things had occurred as
follows:--The six convicts, disembarking on the island, had followed the
southern shore, and after having traversed the double shore of the
Serpentine Peninsula, not being inclined to venture into the Far West
woods, they had reached the mouth of Falls River. From this point, by
following the right bank of the watercourse, they would arrive at the
spurs of Mount Franklin, among which they would naturally seek a
retreat, and they could not have been long in discovering the corral,
then uninhabited. There they had regularly installed themselves,
awaiting the moment to put their abominable schemes into execution.
Ayrton's arrival had surprised them, but they had managed to overpower
the unfortunate man, and--the rest may be easily imagined!
Now, the convicts,--reduced to five, it is true, but well-armed,--were
roaming the woods, and to venture there was to expose themselves to
their attacks, which could be neither guarded against nor prevented.
"Wait! There is nothing else to be done!" repeated Cyrus Harding.
"When Herbert is cured, we can organise a general battue of the island,
and have satisfaction of these convicts. That will be the object of our
grand expedition at the same time--"
"As the search for our mysterious protector," added Gideon Spilett,
finishing the engineer's sentence. "Ah, it must be acknowledged, my
dear Cyrus, that this time his protection was wanting at the very moment
when it was most necessary to us!"
"Who knows?" replied the engineer.
"What do you mean?" asked the reporter.
"That we are not at the end of our trouble yet, my dear Spilett, and
that his powerful invention may, perhaps, have another opportunity of
exercising itself. But that is not the question now. Herbert's life
before everything."
This was the colonists' saddest thought. Several days passed, and the
poor boy's state was happily no worse. Cold water, always kept at a
suitable temperature, had completely prevented the inflammation of the
wounds. It even seemed to the reporter that this water, being slightly
sulphurous,--which was explained by the neighbourhood of the volcano,--
had a more direct action on the healing. The suppuration was much less
abundant, and--thanks to the incessant care by which he was
surrounded!--Herbert returned to life, and his fever abated. He was
besides subjected to a severe diet, and consequently his weakness was
and would be extreme; but there was no want of refreshing drinks, and
absolute rest was of the greatest benefit to him. Cyrus Harding, Gideon
Spilett, and Pencroft had become very skilful in dressing the lad's
wounds. All the linen in the house had been sacrificed. Herbert's
wounds, covered with compresses and lint, were pressed neither too much
nor too little, so as to cause their cicatrisation without determining
on inflammatory reaction. The reporter used extreme care in the
dressing, knowing well the importance of it, and repeating to his
companions that which most surgeons willingly admit, that it is perhaps
rarer to see a dressing well done than an operation well performed.
In ten days, on the 22nd of November, Herbert was considerably better.
He had begun to take some nourishment. The colour was returning to his
cheeks, and his bright eyes smiled at his nurses. He talked a little,
notwithstanding Pencraft's efforts, who talked incessantly to prevent
him from beginning to speak, and told him the most improbable stories.
Herbert had questioned him on the subject of Ayrton, whom he was
astonished not to see near him, thinking that he was at the corral. But
the sailor, not wishing to distress Herbert, contented himself by
replying that Ayrton had rejoined Neb, so as to defend Granite House.
"Humph!" said Pencroft, "these pirates! they are gentlemen who have no
right to any consideration! And the captain wanted to win them by
kindness! I'll send them some kindness, but in the shape of a good
bullet!"
"And have they not been seen again?" asked Herbert.
"No, my boy," answered the sailor, "but we shall find them, and when you
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1000