The Mysterious Island
lake, on Prospect Heights. At this point the examination of the banks of
the lake was considered finished, and yet the engineer had not been able
to discover how and where the waters were discharged. “There is no doubt
this overflow exists,” he repeated, “and since it is not visible it must
go through the granite cliff at the west!”
“But what importance do you attach to knowing that, my dear Cyrus?”
asked Gideon Spilett.
“Considerable importance,” replied the engineer; “for if it flows
through the cliff there is probably some cavity, which it would be easy
to render habitable after turning away the water.”
“But is it not possible, captain, that the water flows away at the
bottom of the lake,” said Herbert, “and that it reaches the sea by some
subterranean passage?”
“That might be,” replied the engineer, “and should it be so we shall be
obliged to build our house ourselves, since nature has not done it for
us.”
The colonists were about to begin to traverse the plateau to return to
the Chimneys, when Top gave new signs of agitation. He barked with fury,
and before his master could restrain him, he had plunged a second time
into the lake.
All ran towards the bank. The dog was already more than twenty feet off,
and Cyrus was calling him back, when an enormous head emerged from the
water, which did not appear to be deep in that place.
Herbert recognized directly the species of amphibian to which the
tapering head, with large eyes, and adorned with long silky mustaches,
belonged.
“A lamantin!” he cried.
It was not a lamantin, but one of that species of the order of
cetaceans, which bear the name of the “dugong,” for its nostrils were
open at the upper part of its snout. The enormous animal rushed on the
dog, who tried to escape by returning towards the shore. His master
could do nothing to save him, and before Gideon Spilett or Herbert
thought of bending their bows, Top, seized by the dugong, had
disappeared beneath the water.
Neb, his iron-tipped spear in his hand, wished to go to Top’s help, and
attack the dangerous animal in its own element.
“No, Neb,” said the engineer, restraining his courageous servant.
Meanwhile, a struggle was going on beneath the water, an inexplicable
struggle, for in his situation Top could not possibly resist; and
judging by the bubbling of the surface it must be also a terrible
struggle, and could not but terminate in the death of the dog! But
suddenly, in the middle of a foaming circle, Top reappeared. Thrown in
the air by some unknown power, he rose ten feet above the surface of the
lake, fell again into the midst of the agitated waters, and then soon
gained the shore, without any severe wounds, miraculously saved.
Cyrus Harding and his companions could not understand it. What was not
less inexplicable was that the struggle still appeared to be going on.
Doubtless, the dugong, attacked by some powerful animal, after having
released the dog, was fighting on its own account. But it did not last
long. The water became red with blood, and the body of the dugong,
emerging from the sheet of scarlet which spread around, soon stranded on
a little beach at the south angle of the lake. The colonists ran towards
it. The dugong was dead. It was an enormous animal, fifteen or sixteen
feet long, and must have weighed from three to four thousand pounds. At
its neck was a wound, which appeared to have been produced by a sharp
blade.
What could the amphibious creature have been, who, by this terrible
blow had destroyed the formidable dugong? No one could tell, and much
interested in this incident, Harding and his companions returned to the
Chimneys.
Chapter 17
The next day, the 7th of May, Harding and Gideon Spilett, leaving Neb to
prepare breakfast, climbed Prospect Heights, while Herbert and Pencroft
ascended by the river, to renew their store of wood.
The engineer and the reporter soon reached the little beach on which the
dugong had been stranded. Already flocks of birds had attacked the mass
of flesh, and had to be driven away with stones, for Cyrus wished to
keep the fat for the use of the colony. As to the animal’s flesh
it would furnish excellent food, for in the islands of the Malay
Archipelago and elsewhere, it is especially reserved for the table of
the native princes. But that was Neb’s affair.
At this moment Cyrus Harding had other thoughts. He was much interested
in the incident of the day before. He wished to penetrate the mystery
of that submarine combat, and to ascertain what monster could have given
the dugong so strange a wound. He remained at the edge of the lake,
looking, observing; but nothing appeared under the tranquil waters,
which sparkled in the first rays of the rising sun.
At the beach, on which lay the body of the dugong, the water was
tolerably shallow, but from this point the bottom of the lake sloped
gradually, and it was probable that the depth was considerable in the
center. The lake might be considered as a large center basin, which was
filled by the water from the Red Creek.
“Well, Cyrus,” said the reporter, “there seems to be nothing suspicious
in this water.”
“No, my dear Spilett,” replied the engineer, “and I really do not know
how to account for the incident of yesterday.”
“I acknowledge,” returned Spilett, “that the wound given this creature
is, at least, very strange, and I cannot explain either how Top was
so vigorously cast up out of the water. One could have thought that a
powerful arm hurled him up, and that the same arm with a dagger killed
the dugong!”
“Yes,” replied the engineer, who had become thoughtful; “there is
something there that I cannot understand. But do you better understand
either, my dear Spilett, in what way I was saved myself--how I was drawn
from the waves, and carried to the downs? No! Is it not true? Now, I
feel sure that there is some mystery there, which, doubtless, we shall
discover some day. Let us observe, but do not dwell on these singular
incidents before our companions. Let us keep our remarks to ourselves,
and continue our work.”
It will be remembered that the engineer had not as yet been able to
discover the place where the surplus water escaped, but he knew it must
exist somewhere. He was much surprised to see a strong current at this
place. By throwing in some bits of wood he found that it set towards the
southern angle. He followed the current, and arrived at the south point
of the lake.
There was there a sort of depression in the water, as if it was suddenly
lost in some fissure in the ground.
Harding listened; placing his ear to the level of the lake, he very
distinctly heard the noise of a subterranean fall.
“There,” said he, rising, “is the discharge of the water; there,
doubtless, by a passage in the granite cliff, it joins the sea, through
cavities which we can use to our profit. Well, I can find it!”
The engineer cut a long branch, stripped it of its leaves, and plunging
it into the angle between the two banks, he found that there was a large
hole one foot only beneath the surface of the water. This hole was the
opening so long looked for in vain, and the force of the current was
such that the branch was torn from the engineer’s hands and disappeared.
“There is no doubt about it now,” repeated Harding. “There is the
outlet, and I will lay it open to view!”
“How?” asked Gideon Spilett.
“By lowering the level of the water of the lake three feet.”
“And how will you lower the level?”
“By opening another outlet larger than this.”
“At what place, Cyrus?”
“At the part of the bank nearest the coast.”
“But it is a mass of granite!” observed Spilett.
“Well,” replied Cyrus Harding, “I will blow up the granite, and the
water escaping, will subside, so as to lay bare this opening--”
“And make a waterfall, by falling on to the beach,” added the reporter.
“A fall that we shall make use of!” replied Cyrus. “Come, come!”
The engineer hurried away his companion, whose confidence in Harding was
such that he did not doubt the enterprise would succeed. And yet, how
was this granite wall to be opened without powder, and with imperfect
instruments? Was not this work upon which the engineer was so bent above
their strength?
When Harding and the reporter entered the Chimneys, they found Herbert
and Pencroft unloading their raft of wood.
“The woodmen have just finished, captain.” said the sailor, laughing,
“and when you want masons--”
“Masons,--no, but chemists,” replied the engineer.
“Yes,” added the reporter, “we are going to blow up the island--”
“Blow up the island?” cried Pencroft.
“Part of it, at least,” replied Spilett.
“Listen to me, my friends,” said the engineer. And he made known to them
the result of his observations.
According to him, a cavity, more or less considerable, must exist in
the mass of granite which supported Prospect Heights, and he intended
to penetrate into it. To do this, the opening through which the water
rushed must first be cleared, and the level lowered by making a larger
outlet. Therefore an explosive substance must be manufactured, which
would make a deep trench in some other part of the shore. This was what
Harding was going to attempt with the minerals which nature placed at
his disposal.
It is useless to say with what enthusiasm all, especially Pencroft,
received this project. To employ great means, open the granite, create a
cascade, that suited the sailor. And he would just as soon be a chemist
as a mason or bootmaker, since the engineer wanted chemicals. He would
be all that they liked, “even a professor of dancing and deportment,”
said he to Neb, if that was ever necessary.
Neb and Pencroft were first of all told to extract the grease from the
dugong, and to keep the flesh, which was destined for food. Such perfect
confidence had they in the engineer, that they set out directly,
without even asking a question. A few minutes after them, Cyrus Harding,
Herbert, and Gideon Spilett, dragging the hurdle, went towards the vein
of coals, where those shistose pyrites abound which are met with in the
most recent transition soil, and of which Harding had already found a
specimen. All the day being employed in carrying a quantity of these
stones to the Chimneys, by evening they had several tons.
The next day, the 8th of May, the engineer began his manipulations.
These shistose pyrites being composed principally of coal, flint,
alumina, and sulphuret of iron--the latter in excess--it was necessary
to separate the sulphuret of iron, and transform it into sulphate as
rapidly as possible. The sulphate obtained, the sulphuric acid could
then be extracted.
This was the object to be attained. Sulphuric acid is one of the agents
the most frequently employed, and the manufacturing importance of a
nation can be measured by the consumption which is made of it. This acid
would later be of great use to the settlers, in the manufacturing of
candles, tanning skins, etc., but this time the engineer reserved it for
another use.
Cyrus Harding chose, behind the Chimneys, a site where the ground
was perfectly level. On this ground he placed a layer of branches and
chopped wood, on which were piled some pieces of shistose pyrites,
buttressed one against the other, the whole being covered with a thin
layer of pyrites, previously reduced to the size of a nut.
This done, they set fire to the wood, the heat was communicated to the
shist, which soon kindled, since it contains coal and sulphur. Then new
layers of bruised pyrites were arranged so as to form an immense
heap, the exterior of which was covered with earth and grass, several
air-holes being left, as if it was a stack of wood which was to be
carbonized to make charcoal.