The Mysterious Island
and supple bark for the work. Now the last storm had brought down a
number of large birch-trees, the bark of which would be perfectly suited
for their purpose. Some of these trees lay on the ground, and they had
only to be barked, which was the most difficult thing of all, owing to
the imperfect tools which the settlers possessed. However, they overcame
all difficulties.
While the sailor, seconded by the engineer, thus occupied himself
without losing an hour, Gideon Spilett and Herbert were not idle.
They were made purveyors to the colony. The reporter could not but
admire the boy, who had acquired great skill in handling the bow and
spear. Herbert also showed great courage and much of that presence of
mind which may justly be called “the reasoning of bravery.” These two
companions of the chase, remembering Cyrus Harding’s recommendations,
did not go beyond a radius of two miles round Granite House; but
the borders of the forest furnished a sufficient tribute of agoutis,
capybaras, kangaroos, peccaries, etc.; and if the result from the traps
was less than during the cold, still the warren yielded its accustomed
quota, which might have fed all the colony in Lincoln Island.
Often during these excursions, Herbert talked with Gideon Spilett on the
incident of the bullet, and the deductions which the engineer drew from
it, and one day--it was the 26th of October--he said--“But, Mr. Spilett,
do you not think it very extraordinary that, if any castaways have
landed on the island, they have not yet shown themselves near Granite
House?”
“Very astonishing if they are still here,” replied the reporter, “but
not astonishing at all if they are here no longer!”
“So you think that these people have already quitted the island?”
returned Herbert.
“It is more than probable, my boy; for if their stay was prolonged, and
above all, if they were still here, some accident would have at last
betrayed their presence.”
“But if they were able to go away,” observed the lad, “they could not
have been castaways.”
“No, Herbert; or, at least, they were what might be called provisional
castaways. It is very possible that a storm may have driven them to the
island without destroying their vessel, and that, the storm over, they
went away again.”
“I must acknowledge one thing,” said Herbert, “it is that Captain
Harding appears rather to fear than desire the presence of human beings
on our island.”
“In short,” responded the reporter, “there are only Malays who frequent
these seas, and those fellows are ruffians which it is best to avoid.”
“It is not impossible, Mr. Spilett,” said Herbert, “that some day or
other we may find traces of their landing.”
“I do not say no, my boy. A deserted camp, the ashes of a fire, would
put us on the track, and this is what we will look for in our next
expedition.”
The day on which the hunters spoke thus, they were in a part of the
forest near the Mercy, remarkable for its beautiful trees. There, among
others, rose, to a height of nearly 200 feet above the ground, some of
those superb coniferae, to which, in New Zealand, the natives give the
name of Kauris.
“I have an idea, Mr. Spilett,” said Herbert. “If I were to climb to the
top of one of these kauris, I could survey the country for an immense
distance round.”
“The idea is good,” replied the reporter; “but could you climb to the
top of those giants?”
“I can at least try,” replied Herbert.
The light and active boy then sprang on the first branches, the
arrangement of which made the ascent of the kauri easy, and in a few
minutes he arrived at the summit, which emerged from the immense plain
of verdure.
From this elevated situation his gaze extended over all the southern
portion of the island, from Claw Cape on the southeast, to Reptile End
on the southwest. To the northwest rose Mount Franklin, which concealed
a great part of the horizon.
But Herbert, from the height of his observatory, could examine all the
yet unknown portion of the island, which might have given shelter to the
strangers whose presence they suspected.
The lad looked attentively. There was nothing in sight on the sea, not
a sail, neither on the horizon nor near the island. However, as the bank
of trees hid the shore, it was possible that a vessel, especially if
deprived of her masts, might lie close to the land and thus be invisible
to Herbert.
Neither in the forests of the Far West was anything to be seen. The wood
formed an impenetrable screen, measuring several square miles, without a
break or an opening. It was impossible even to follow the course of the
Mercy, or to ascertain in what part of the mountain it took its source.
Perhaps other creeks also ran towards the west, but they could not be
seen.
But at last, if all indication of an encampment escaped Herbert’s sight
could he not even catch a glimpse of smoke, the faintest trace of which
would be easily discernible in the pure atmosphere?
For an instant Herbert thought he could perceive a slight smoke in the
west, but a more attentive examination showed that he was mistaken. He
strained his eyes in every direction, and his sight was excellent. No,
decidedly there was nothing there.
Herbert descended to the foot of the kauri, and the two sportsmen
returned to Granite House. There Cyrus Harding listened to the lad’s
account, shook his head and said nothing. It was very evident that
no decided opinion could be pronounced on this question until after a
complete exploration of the island.
Two days after--the 28th of October--another incident occurred, for
which an explanation was again required.
While strolling along the shore about two miles from Granite House,
Herbert and Neb were fortunate enough to capture a magnificent specimen
of the order of chelonia. It was a turtle of the species Midas, the
edible green turtle, so called from the color both of its shell and fat.
Herbert caught sight of this turtle as it was crawling among the rocks
to reach the sea.
“Help, Neb, help!” he cried.
Neb ran up.
“What a fine animal!” said Neb; “but how are we to catch it?”
“Nothing is easier, Neb,” replied Herbert. “We have only to turn the
turtle on its back, and it cannot possibly get away. Take your spear and
do as I do.”
The reptile, aware of danger, had retired between its carapace and
plastron. They no longer saw its head or feet, and it was motionless as
a rock.
Herbert and Neb then drove their sticks underneath the animal, and by
their united efforts managed without difficulty to turn it on its back.
The turtle, which was three feet in length, would have weighed at least
four hundred pounds.
“Capital!” cried Neb; “this is something which will rejoice friend
Pencroft’s heart.”
In fact, the heart of friend Pencroft could not fail to be rejoiced,
for the flesh of the turtle, which feeds on wrack-grass, is extremely
savory. At this moment the creature’s head could be seen, which was
small, flat, but widened behind by the large temporal fossae hidden
under the long roof.
“And now, what shall we do with our prize?” said Neb. “We can’t drag it
to Granite House!”
“Leave it here, since it cannot turn over,” replied Herbert, “and we
will come back with the cart to fetch it.”
“That is the best plan.”
However, for greater precaution, Herbert took the trouble, which Neb
deemed superfluous, to wedge up the animal with great stones; after
which the two hunters returned to Granite House, following the beach,
which the tide had left uncovered. Herbert, wishing to surprise
Pencroft, said nothing about the “superb specimen of a chelonian” which
they had turned over on the sand; but, two hours later, he and Neb
returned with the cart to the place where they had left it. The “superb
specimen of a chelonian” was no longer there!
Neb and Herbert stared at each other first; then they stared about them.
It was just at this spot that the turtle had been left. The lad even
found the stones which he had used, and therefore he was certain of not
being mistaken.
“Well!” said Neb, “these beasts can turn themselves over, then?’’
“It appears so,” replied Herbert, who could not understand it at all,
and was gazing at the stones scattered on the sand.
“Well, Pencroft will be disgusted!”
“And Captain Harding will perhaps be very perplexed how to explain this
disappearance,” thought Herbert.
“Look here,” said Neb, who wished to hide his ill-luck, “we won’t speak
about it.”
“On the contrary, Neb, we must speak about it,” replied Herbert.
And the two, taking the cart, which there was now no use for, returned
to Granite House.
Arrived at the dockyard, where the engineer and the sailor were working
together, Herbert recounted what had happened.
“Oh! the stupids!” cried the sailor, “to have let at least fifty meals
escape!”
“But, Pencroft,” replied Neb, “it wasn’t our fault that the beast got
away; as I tell you, we had turned it over on its back!”
“Then you didn’t turn it over enough!” returned the obstinate sailor.
“Not enough!” cried Herbert.
And he told how he had taken care to wedge up the turtle with stones.
“It is a miracle, then!” replied Pencroft.
“I thought, captain,” said Herbert, “that turtles, once placed on their
backs, could not regain their feet, especially when they are of a large
size?’
“That is true, my boy,” replied Cyrus Harding.
“Then how did it manage?”
“At what distance from the sea did you leave this turtle?” asked
the engineer, who, having suspended his work, was reflecting on this
incident.
“Fifteen feet at the most,” replied Herbert.
“And the tide was low at the time?”
“Yes, captain.”
“Well,” replied the engineer, “what the turtle could not do on the sand
it might have been able to do in the water. It turned over when the tide
overtook it, and then quietly returned to the deep sea.”
“Oh! what stupids we were!” cried Neb.
“That is precisely what I had the honor of telling you before!” returned
the sailor.
Cyrus Harding had given this explanation, which, no doubt, was
admissible. But was he himself convinced of the accuracy of this
explanation? It cannot be said that he was.
Chapter 2
On the 9th of October the bark canoe was entirely finished. Pencroft
had kept his promise, and a light boat, the shell of which was joined
together by the flexible twigs of the crejimba, had been constructed in
five days. A seat in the stern, a second seat in the middle to preserve
the equilibrium, a third seat in the bows, rowlocks for the two oars, a
scull to steer with, completed the little craft, which was twelve feet
long, and did not weigh more than two hundred pounds. The operation of
launching it was extremely simple. The canoe was carried to the beach
and laid on the sand before Granite House, and the rising tide floated
it. Pencroft, who leaped in directly, maneuvered it with the scull and
declared it to be just the thing for the purpose to which they wished to
put it.
“Hurrah!” cried the sailor, who did not disdain to celebrate thus his
own triumph. “With this we could go round--”
“The world?” asked Gideon Spilett.
“No, the island. Some stones for ballast, a mast and a sail, which the
captain will make for us some day, and we shall go splendidly! Well,
captain--and you, Mr. Spilett; and you, Herbert; and you, Neb--aren’t
you coming to try our new vessel? Come along! we must see if it will
carry all five of us!”
This was certainly a trial which ought to be made. Pencroft soon brought
the canoe to the shore by a narrow passage among the rocks, and it was
agreed that they should make a trial of the boat that day by following
the shore as far as the first point at which the rocks of the south
ended.
As they embarked, Neb cried,--
“But your boat leaks rather, Pencroft.”