The Mysterious Island
“And they don’t happen to do for smoking?”
“No, my poor Pencroft.”
Herbert and the sailor had not to look long for a place in which to pass
the night. The rocks, which must have been violently beaten by the
sea under the influence of the winds of the southwest, presented many
cavities in which shelter could be found against the night air. But just
as they were about to enter one of these caves a loud roaring arrested
them.
“Back!” cried Pencroft. “Our guns are only loaded with small shot, and
beasts which can roar as loud as that would care no more for it than for
grains of salt!” And the sailor, seizing Herbert by the arm, dragged
him behind a rock, just as a magnificent animal showed itself at the
entrance of the cavern.
It was a jaguar of a size at least equal to its Asiatic congeners, that
is to say, it measured five feet from the extremity of its head to the
beginning of its tail. The yellow color of its hair was relieved by
streaks and regular oblong spots of black, which contrasted with the
white of its chest. Herbert recognized it as the ferocious rival of
the tiger, as formidable as the puma, which is the rival of the largest
wolf!
The jaguar advanced and gazed around him with blazing eyes, his hair
bristling as if this was not the first time he had scented men.
At this moment the reporter appeared round a rock, and Herbert, thinking
that he had not seen the jaguar, was about to rush towards him, when
Gideon Spilett signed to him to remain where he was. This was not his
first tiger, and advancing to within ten feet of the animal he remained
motionless, his gun to his shoulder, without moving a muscle. The jaguar
collected itself for a spring, but at that moment a shot struck it in
the eyes, and it fell dead.
Herbert and Pencroft rushed towards the jaguar. Neb and Harding also ran
up, and they remained for some instants contemplating the animal as it
lay stretched on the ground, thinking that its magnificent skin would be
a great ornament to the hall at Granite House.
“Oh, Mr. Spilett, how I admire and envy you!” cried Herbert, in a fit of
very natural enthusiasm.
“Well, my boy,” replied the reporter, “you could have done the same.”
“I! with such coolness!--”
“Imagine to yourself, Herbert, that the jaguar is only a hare, and you
would fire as quietly as possible.”
“That is,” rejoined Pencroft, “that it is not more dangerous than a
hare!”
“And now,” said Gideon Spilett, “since the jaguar has left its abode, I
do not see, my friends, why we should not take possession of it for the
night.”
“But others may come,” said Pencroft.
“It will be enough to light a fire at the entrance of the cavern,” said
the reporter, “and no wild beasts will dare to cross the threshold.”
“Into the jaguar’s house, then!” replied the sailor, dragging after him
the body of the animal.
While Neb skinned the jaguar, his companions collected an abundant
supply of dry wood from the forest, which they heaped up at the cave.
Cyrus Harding, seeing the clump of bamboos, cut a quantity, which he
mingled with the other fuel.
This done, they entered the grotto, of which the floor was strewn with
bones, the guns were carefully loaded, in case of a sudden attack, they
had supper, and then just before they lay down to rest, the heap of wood
piled at the entrance was set fire to. Immediately, a regular explosion,
or rather a series of reports, broke the silence! The noise was caused
by the bamboos, which, as the flames reached them, exploded like
fireworks. The noise was enough to terrify even the boldest of wild
beasts.
It was not the engineer who had invented this way of causing loud
explosions, for, according to Marco Polo, the Tartars have employed it
for many centuries to drive away from their encampments the formidable
wild beasts of Central Asia.
Chapter 5
Cyrus Harding and his companions slept like innocent marmots in the cave
which the jaguar had so politely left at their disposal.
At sunrise all were on the shore at the extremity of the promontory, and
their gaze was directed towards the horizon, of which two-thirds of
the circumference were visible. For the last time the engineer could
ascertain that not a sail nor the wreck of a ship was on the sea, and
even with the telescope nothing suspicious could be discovered.
There was nothing either on the shore, at least, in the straight line
of three miles which formed the south side of the promontory, for
beyond that, rising ground had the rest of the coast, and even from the
extremity of the Serpentine Peninsula Claw Cape could not be seen.
The southern coast of the island still remained to be explored. Now
should they undertake it immediately, and devote this day to it?
This was not included in their first plan. In fact, when the boat was
abandoned at the sources of the Mercy, it had been agreed that after
having surveyed the west coast, they should go back to it, and return to
Granite House by the Mercy. Harding then thought that the western coast
would have offered refuge, either to a ship in distress, or to a vessel
in her regular course; but now, as he saw that this coast presented no
good anchorage, he wished to seek on the south what they had not been
able to find on the west.
Gideon Spilett proposed to continue the exploration, that the question
of the supposed wreck might be completely settled, and he asked at what
distance Claw Cape might be from the extremity of the peninsula.
“About thirty miles,” replied the engineer, “if we take into
consideration the curvings of the coast.”
“Thirty miles!” returned Spilett. “That would be a long day’s march.
Nevertheless, I think that we should return to Granite House by the
south coast.”
“But,” observed Herbert, “from Claw Cape to Granite House there must be
at least another ten miles.
“Make it forty miles in all,” replied the engineer, “and do not hesitate
to do it. At least we should survey the unknown shore, and then we shall
not have to begin the exploration again.”
“Very good,” said Pencroft. “But the boat?”
“The boat has remained by itself for one day at the sources of the
Mercy,” replied Gideon Spilett; “it may just as well stay there two
days! As yet, we have had no reason to think that the island is infested
by thieves!”
“Yet,” said the sailor, “when I remember the history of the turtle, I am
far from confident of that.”
“The turtle! the turtle!” replied the reporter. “Don’t you know that the
sea turned it over?”
“Who knows?” murmured the engineer.
“But,--” said Neb.
Neb had evidently something to say, for he opened his mouth to speak and
yet said nothing.
“What do you want to say, Neb?” asked the engineer.
“If we return by the shore to Claw Cape,” replied Neb, “after having
doubled the Cape, we shall be stopped--”
“By the Mercy! of course,” replied Herbert, “and we shall have neither
bridge nor boat by which to cross.”
“But, captain,” added Pencroft, “with a few floating trunks we shall
have no difficulty in crossing the river.”
“Never mind,” said Spilett, “it will be useful to construct a bridge if
we wish to have an easy access to the Far West!”
“A bridge!” cried Pencroft. “Well, is not the captain the best engineer
in his profession? He will make us a bridge when we want one. As to
transporting you this evening to the other side of the Mercy, and that
without wetting one thread of your clothes, I will take care of that. We
have provisions for another day, and besides we can get plenty of game.
Forward!”
The reporter’s proposal, so strongly seconded by the sailor, received
general approbation, for each wished to have their doubts set at rest,
and by returning by Claw Cape the exploration would be ended. But there
was not an hour to lose, for forty miles was a long march, and they
could not hope to reach Granite House before night.
At six o’clock in the morning the little band set out. As a precaution
the guns were loaded with ball, and Top, who led the van, received
orders to beat about the edge of the forest.
From the extremity of the promontory which formed the tail of the
peninsula the coast was rounded for a distance of five miles, which
was rapidly passed over, without even the most minute investigations
bringing to light the least trace of any old or recent landings; no
debris, no mark of an encampment, no cinders of a fire, nor even a
footprint!
From the point of the peninsula on which the settlers now were their
gaze could extend along the southwest. Twenty-five miles off the coast
terminated in the Claw Cape, which loomed dimly through the morning
mists, and which, by the phenomenon of the mirage, appeared as if
suspended between land and water.
Between the place occupied by the colonists and the other side of the
immense bay, the shore was composed, first, of a tract of low land,
bordered in the background by trees; then the shore became more
irregular, projecting sharp points into the sea, and finally ended in
the black rocks which, accumulated in picturesque disorder, formed Claw
Cape.
Such was the development of this part of the island, which the settlers
took in at a glance, while stopping for an instant.
“If a vessel ran in here,” said Pencroft, “she would certainly be lost.
Sandbanks and reefs everywhere! Bad quarters!”
“But at least something would be left of the ship,” observed the
reporter.
“There might be pieces of wood on the rocks, but nothing on the sands,”
replied the sailor.
“Why?”
“Because the sands are still more dangerous than the rocks, for they
swallow up everything that is thrown on them. In a few days the hull of
a ship of several hundred tons would disappear entirely in there!”
“So, Pencroft,” asked the engineer, “if a ship has been wrecked on
these banks, is it not astonishing that there is now no trace of her
remaining?”
“No, captain, with the aid of time and tempest. However, it would be
surprising, even in this case, that some of the masts or spars should
not have been thrown on the beach, out of reach of the waves.”
“Let us go on with our search, then,” returned Cyrus Harding.
At one o’clock the colonists arrived at the other side of Washington
Bay, they having now gone a distance of twenty miles.
They then halted for breakfast.
Here began the irregular coast, covered with lines of rocks and
sandbanks. The long sea-swell could be seen breaking over the rocks in
the bay, forming a foamy fringe. From this point to Claw Cape the beach
was very narrow between the edge of the forest and the reefs.
Walking was now more difficult, on account of the numerous rocks which
encumbered the beach. The granite cliff also gradually increased in
height, and only the green tops of the trees which crowned it could be
seen.
After half an hour’s rest, the settlers resumed their journey, and not
a spot among the rocks was left unexamined. Pencroft and Neb even rushed
into the surf whenever any object attracted their attention. But they
found nothing, some curious formations of the rocks having deceived
them. They ascertained, however, that eatable shellfish abounded there,
but these could not be of any great advantage to them until some easy
means of communication had been established between the two banks of the
Mercy, and until the means of transport had been perfected.
Nothing therefore which threw any light on the supposed wreck could be
found on this shore, yet an object of any importance, such as the hull
of a ship, would have been seen directly, or any of her masts and spars
would have been washed on shore, just as the chest had been, which was
found twenty miles from here. But there was nothing.
Towards three o’clock Harding and his companions arrived at a snug
little creek. It formed quite a natural harbor, invisible from the sea,