The Mysterious Island


CHAPTER XXVII.

PROPOSAL TO RETURN BY THE SOUTH COAST—ITS CONFIGURATION—SEARCH FOR THE SHIPWRECKED—A WAIF IN THE AIR—DISCOVERY OF A SMALL NATURAL HARBOR—MIDNIGHT ON THE MERCY—A DRIFTING CANOE.

Smith and his companions slept like mice in the cavern which the jaguar had so politely vacated, and, by sunrise, all were on the extremity of the promontory, and scrutinizing the horizon visible on either hand. No ship or wreck was to be seen, and not even with the spy-glass could any suspicious object be discerned. It was the same along the shore, at least on all that portion, three miles in length, which formed the south side of the promontory; as, beyond that, a slope of the land concealed the rest of the coast, and even from the extremity of Serpentine Peninsula, Claw Cape was hidden by high rocks.

The southern bank of the island remained to be explored. Had they not better attempt this at once, and give up this day to it? This procedure had not entered into their first calculations, as, when the canoe was left at the sources of the Mercy, the colonists thought that, having explored the west coast, they would return by the river; Smith having then believed that this coast sheltered either a wreck or a passing ship. But as soon as this shore disclosed no landing place, it became necessary to search the south side of the island for those whom they had failed to discover on the west.

It was Spilett who proposed continuing the exploration so as to settle definitely the question of the supposed shipwreck, and he inquired how far it would be to Claw Cape.

“About thirty miles,” answered the engineer, “if we allow for the irregularity of the shore.”

“Thirty miles!” exclaimed Spilett, “that would be a long walk. Nevertheless, I think we should return to Granite House by the south coast.”

“But,” observed Herbert, “from Claw Cape to Granite House is at least ten miles further.”

“Call it forty miles altogether,” answered the reporter, “and do not let us hesitate to do it. At least we will have seen this unknown shore, and will not have it to explore over again.”

“That is so,” said Pencroff. “But how about the canoe?”

“The canoe can stay where it is for a day or two,” replied Spilett. “We can hardly say that the island is infested with thieves!” ‘

“Nevertheless, when I remember that affair of the turtle, I am not so confident.”

“The turtle! the turtle!” cried the reporter, “don’t you know that the sea turned it over?”

“Who can say?” murmured the engineer.

“But—,” began Neb, who, it was evident, wished to say something.

“What is it, Neb?” questioned the engineer.

“If we do return by the shore to Claw Cape, after having gone round it, we will be stopped—”

“By the Mercy!” cried Herbert. “And we have no bridge or boat!”

“Oh!” answered Pencroff, “we can cross it readily enough with some logs.”

“Nevertheless,” said Spilett, “it would be well to build a bridge some time if we wish to have ready access to the Far West.”

“A bridge!” cried Pencroff. “Well isn’t Mr. Smith State Engineer? If we shall need a bridge we will have one. As to carrying you over the Mercy to-night without getting wet, I will look out for that. We still have a day’s provision, which is all that is necessary, and, besides, the game may not give out to-day as It did yesterday. So let us go.”

The proposal of the reporter, strongly seconded by the sailor, obtained general approval, as every one wished to end their doubts, and by returning by Claw Cape the exploration would be complete. But no time was to be lost, for the tramp was long, and they counted on reaching Granite House that night. So by 6 o’clock the little party was on its way, the guns loaded with ball in case of an encounter, and Top, who went ahead, ordered to search the edge of the forest.

The first five miles of the distance was rapidly traversed, and not the slightest sign of any human being was seen. When the colonists arrived at the point where the curvature of the promontory ended, and Washington Bay began, they were able to take in at one view the whole extent of the southern coast. Twenty-five miles distant the shore was terminated by Claw Cape, which was faintly visible through the morning mists, and reproduced as a mirage in mid-air. Between the place occupied by the colonists and the upper end of the Great Bay the shore began with a flat and continuous beach, bordered in the background by tall trees; following this, it became very irregular, and thrust sharp points into the sea, and finally a heap of black rocks, thrown together in picturesque disorder, completed the distance to Claw Cape.

“A ship would surely be lost on these sands and shoals and reefs,” said Pencroff.

“It is poor quarters!”

“But at least a portion of her would be left,” observed the reporter.

“Some bits of wood would remain on the reefs, nothing on the sands,” answered the sailor.

“How is that?”

“Because the sands are even more dangerous than the rocks, and swallow up everything that is thrown upon them; a few days suffice to bury out of sight the hull of a ship of many tons measurement.”

“Then, Pencroff,” questioned the engineer, “if a vessel had been lost on these banks, it would not be surprising if there was no trace left?”

“No, sir, that is after a time or after a tempest. Nevertheless, it would be surprising, as now, that no spars or timbers were thrown upon the shore beyond the reach of the sea.”

“Let us continue our search,” replied Smith.

By 1 o’clock the party had accomplished twenty miles, having reached the upper end of Washington Bay, and they stopped to lunch.

Here began an irregular shore, oddly cut into by a long line of rocks, succeeding the sand banks, and just beginning to show themselves by long streaks of foam, above the undulations of the receding waves. From this point to Claw Cape the beach was narrow and confined between the reef of rocks and the forest, and the march would therefore be more difficult. The granite wall sunk more and more, and above it the tops of the trees, undisturbed by a breath of air, appeared in the background.

After half an hour’s rest the colonists took up the march again, on the lookout for any sign of a wreck, but without success. They found out, however, that edible mussels were plenty on this beach, although they would not gather them until means of transport between the two banks of the river should have been perfected.

Towards 3 o’clock, Smith and his companions reached a narrow inlet, unfed by any water-course. It formed a veritable little natural harbor, invisible from without, and approached by a narrow passage guarded by the reefs. At the upper end of this creek some violent convulsion had shattered the rock, and a narrow, sloping passage gave access to the upper plateau, which proved to be ten miles from Claw Cape, and therefore four miles in a direct line from Prospect Plateau.

Spilett proposed to his companions to halt here, and, as the march had sharpened their appetites, although it was not dinner time, no one objected to a bit of venison, and with this lunch they would be able to await supper at Granite House.

Soon the colonists, seated under a group of splendid pines, were eating heartily of the provisions which Neb had brought out from his haversack. The place was some fifty or sixty feet above the sea, and the view, extending beyond the furthest rock of the cape, was lost in Union Bay. But the islet and Prospect Plateau were invisible, as the high ground and the curtain of high trees shut out the horizon to the north. Neither over the extent of sea nor on that part of the coast which it was still necessary to explore could they discover even with the spyglass any suspicious object.

“Well” said Spilett, “we can console ourselves by thinking that no one is disputing the island with us.”

“But how about the pellet?” said Herbert. “It was not a dream.”

“Indeed it was not!” cried Pencroff, thinking of his missing tooth.

“Well, what are we to conclude?” asked the reporter.

“This,” said Smith, “that within three months a ship, voluntarily or otherwise, has touched—”

“What! You will admit, Cyrus, that it has been swallowed up without leaving any trace?” cried the reporter.

“No, my dear Spilett; but you must remember that while it is certain that a human being has been here, it seems just as certain that he is not here now.”

“Then, if I understand you sir,” said Herbert, “the ship has gone again?”

“Evidently.”

“And we have lost, beyond return, a chance to get home?” said Neb.

“I believe without return.”

“Well then, since the chance is lost, let us push on,” said Pencroff, already home-sick for Granite House.

“But, just as they were rising, Top’s barking was heard, and the dog burst from the forest, holding in his mouth a soiled rag.

Neb took it from him. It was a bit of strong cloth. Top, still barking, seemed by his motions to invite his master to follow into the wood.

“Here is something which will explain my bullet,” cried Pencroff.

“A shipwrecked person!” answered Herbert.

“Wounded, perhaps!” exclaimed Neb.

“Or dead!” responded the reporter.

And all holding their arms in readiness, hurried after the dog through the outskirts of the forests. They advanced some distance into the wood, but, to their disappointment, they saw no tracks. The underbrush and lianas were uninjured and had to be cut away with the hatchet, as in the depths of the forest. It was hard to imagine that any human creature had passed there, and yet Top’s action showed no uncertainty, but was more like that of a human being having a fixed purpose.

In a few minutes the dog stopped. The colonists, who had arrived at a sort of glade surrounded by high trees, looked all about them, but neither in the underbrush or between the tree trunks could they discover a thing.

“What is it, Top?” said Smith.

Top, barking louder, ran to the foot of a gigantic pine.

Suddenly Pencroff exclaimed:—

“This is capital!”

“What’s that,” asked Spilett.

“We’ve been hunting for some waif on the sea or land—”

“Well?”

“And here it is in the air!”

And the sailor pointed out a mass of faded cloth caught on the summit of the pine, a piece of which Top had found on the ground.

“But that is no waif!” exclaimed Spilett.

“Indeed it is,” answered Pencroff.

“How is it!”

“It is all that is left of our balloon, of our ship which is stranded on the top of this tree.”

Pencroff was not mistaken, and he added, with a shout:—

“And there is good stuff in it which will keep us in linen for years. It will make us handkerchiefs and shirts. Aha, Mr. Spilett! what do you say of an island where shirts grow on the trees?”

It was, indeed, a fortunate thing for the colonists that the aerostat, after having made its last bound into the air, had fallen again on the island. They could, either keep the envelope in its present shape, in case they might desire to attempt a new flight through the air, or, after having taken off the varnish, they could make use of its hundreds of ells of good cotton cloth. At these thoughts all shared Pencroff’s joy.

It was no easy task to take down this envelope from the tree top. But Neb, Herbert, and the sailor climbed up to it, and after two hours of hard work not only the envelope, with its valve, springs, and leather mountings, but the net, equivalent to a large quantity of cordage and ropes, together with the iron ring and the anchor, lay upon the ground. The envelope, excepting the rent, was in good order, and only its lower end had been torn away.

It was a gift from heaven.

“Nevertheless, Mr. Smith,” said the sailor, “if we ever do decide to leave the island it won’t be in a balloon, I hope. These air ships don’t always go the way you want them to, as we have found out. If you will let me have my way, we will build a ship of twenty tons, and you will allow me to cut from this cloth a foresail and jib. The rest of it will do for clothes.”

“We will see about it, Pencroff,” answered Smith.

“And meanwhile it must all be put away carefully,” said Neb.

In truth, they could not think of carrying all this weight of material to Granite House; and while waiting for a proper means of removing it, it was important not to leave it exposed to the weather. The colonists, uniting their efforts, succeeded in dragging it to the shore, where they discovered a cave so situated that neither wind, rain, nor sea could get at it.

“It is a wardrobe,” said Pencroff; “but since it does not kick, it will be prudent to hide the opening, not, perhaps from two-footed, but from four-footed thieves!”

By 6 o’clock everything was stored away, and after having named the little inlet, Balloon, Harbor, they took the road for Claw Cape. Pencroff and the engineer discussed several projects, which it would be well to attend to at once. The first thing was to build a bridge across the Mercy, and, as the canoe was too small, to bring the balloon over in the cart. Then to build a decked launch, which Pencroff would make cutter-rigged, and in which they could make voyages of circumnavigation—around the island; then, etc.

In the meantime the night approached, and it was already dark, when the colonists reached Jetsam Point, where they had discovered the precious box. But here, as elsewhere, there was nothing to indicate a shipwreck, and it became necessary to adopt the opinions expressed by Smith.

The four miles from Jetsam Point to Granite House were quickly traversed, but it was midnight when the colonists arrived at the first bend above the mouth of the Mercy. There the river was eighty feet wide, and Pencroff, who had undertaken to overcome the difficulty of crossing it, set to work. It must be admitted that the colonists were fatigued. The tramp had been long, and the incident of the balloon had not rested their arms or legs. They were therefore anxious to get back to Granite House to supper and bed, and if they had only had the bridge, in a quarter of an hour they could have been at home.

The night was very dark. Pencroff and Neb, armed with the hatchets, chose two trees near the bank, and began cutting them down, in order to make a raft. Smith and Spilett, seated on the ground, waited to assist their companions, and Herbert sauntered about, doing nothing.

All at once the lad, who had gone up the stream, returned hurriedly, and, pointing back, exclaimed:—

“What is that drifting there?”

Pencroff stopped work and perceived an object resting motionless in the gloom.

“A canoe!” he exclaimed.

All came up and saw, to their astonishment, a boat following the current.

“Canoe, ahoy!” shouted Pencroff from force of habit, forgetting that it might be better to keep quiet.

There was no answer. The boat continued to drift, and it was not more than a dozen paces off, when the sailor exclaimed:—

“Why, it’s our canoe! She has broken away and drifted down with the current. Well, we must admit that she comes in the nick of time!”

“Our canoe!” murmured the engineer.

Pencroff was right. It was indeed their canoe, which had doubtless broken loose and drifted all the way from the headwaters of the Mercy! It was important to seize it in passing before it should be drawn into the rapid current at the mouth of the river, and Pencroff and Neb, by the aid of a long pole, did this, and drew the canoe to the bank.

The engineer stepped in first, and, seizing the rope, assured himself that it had been really worn in two against the rocks.

“This,” said the reporter in an undertone; “this is a coincidence—”

“It is very strange!” answered the engineer.

At least it was fortunate, and while no one could doubt that the rope had been broken by friction, the astonishing part of the affair was that the canoe had arrived at the moment when the colonists were there to seize it, for a quarter of an hour later, and it would have been carried out to sea. Had there been such things as genii, this incident would have been sufficient to make the colonists believe that the island was inhabited by a supernatural being, who placed his power at their disposal.

With a few strokes the party arrived at the mouth of the Mercy. The canoe was drawn on shore at the Chimneys, and all took their way to the ladder at Granite House.

But, just then, Top began barking furiously, and Neb, who was feeling for the lower rung, cried out:—

“The ladder’s gone!”

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