The Mysterious Island
difficulty, of an albatross, which a shot from Herbert’s gun had
slightly wounded in the foot. It was a magnificent bird, measuring ten
feet from wing to wing, and which could traverse seas as wide as the
Pacific.
Herbert would have liked to keep this superb bird, as its wound would
soon heal, and he thought he could tame it; but Spilett explained to
him that they should not neglect this opportunity of attempting to
communicate by this messenger with the lands of the Pacific; for if the
albatross had come from some inhabited region, there was no doubt but
that it would return there so soon as it was set free.
Perhaps in his heart Gideon Spilett, in whom the journalist sometimes
came to the surface, was not sorry to have the opportunity of sending
forth to take its chance an exciting article relating the adventures
of the settlers in Lincoln Island. What a success for the authorized
reporter of the New York Herald, and for the number which should contain
the article, if it should ever reach the address of its editor, the
Honorable James Bennett!
Gideon Spilett then wrote out a concise account, which was placed in a
strong waterproof bag, with an earnest request to whoever might find it
to forward it to the office of the New York Herald. This little bag was
fastened to the neck of the albatross, and not to its foot, for these
birds are in the habit of resting on the surface of the sea; then
liberty was given to this swift courier of the air, and it was not
without some emotion that the colonists watched it disappear in the
misty west.
“Where is he going to?” asked Pencroft.
“Towards New Zealand,” replied Herbert.
“A good voyage to you,” shouted the sailor, who himself did not expect
any great result from this mode of correspondence.
With the winter, work had been resumed in the interior of Granite House,
mending clothes and different occupations, among others making the sails
for their vessel, which were cut from the inexhaustible balloon-case.
During the month of July the cold was intense, but there was no lack of
either wood or coal. Cyrus Harding had established a second fireplace in
the dining-room, and there the long winter evenings were spent. Talking
while they worked, reading when the hands remained idle, the time passed
with profit to all.
It was real enjoyment to the settlers when in their room, well lighted
with candles, well warmed with coal, after a good dinner, elderberry
coffee smoking in the cups, the pipes giving forth an odoriferous smoke,
they could hear the storm howling without. Their comfort would have been
complete, if complete comfort could ever exist for those who are far
from their fellow-creatures, and without any means of communication with
them. They often talked of their country, of the friends whom they had
left, of the grandeur of the American Republic, whose influence could
not but increase; and Cyrus Harding, who had been much mixed up with the
affairs of the Union, greatly interested his auditors by his recitals,
his views, and his prognostics.
It chanced one day that Spilett was led to say--
“But now, my dear Cyrus, all this industrial and commercial movement
to which you predict a continual advance, does it not run the danger of
being sooner or later completely stopped?”
“Stopped! And by what?”
“By the want of coal, which may justly be called the most precious of
minerals.”
“Yes, the most precious indeed,” replied the engineer; “and it would
seem that nature wished to prove that it was so by making the diamond,
which is simply pure carbon crystallized.”
“You don’t mean to say, captain,” interrupted Pencroft, “that we burn
diamonds in our stoves in the shape of coal?”
“No, my friend,” replied Harding.
“However,” resumed Gideon Spilett, “you do not deny that some day the
coal will be entirely consumed?”
“Oh! the veins of coal are still considerable, and the hundred
thousand miners who annually extract from them a hundred millions of
hundredweights have not nearly exhausted them.”
“With the increasing consumption of coal,” replied Gideon Spilett, “it
can be foreseen that the hundred thousand workmen will soon become two
hundred thousand, and that the rate of extraction will be doubled.”
“Doubtless; but after the European mines, which will be soon worked more
thoroughly with new machines, the American and Australian mines will for
a long time yet provide for the consumption in trade.”
“For how long a time?” asked the reporter.
“For at least two hundred and fifty or three hundred years.”
“That is reassuring for us, but a bad look-out for our
great-grandchildren!” observed Pencroft.
“They will discover something else,” said Herbert.
“It is to be hoped so,” answered Spilett, “for without coal there would
be no machinery, and without machinery there would be no railways, no
steamers, no manufactories, nothing of that which is indispensable to
modern civilization!”
“But what will they find?” asked Pencroft. “Can you guess, captain?”
“Nearly, my friend.”
“And what will they burn instead of coal?”
“Water,” replied Harding.
“Water!” cried Pencroft, “water as fuel for steamers and engines! water
to heat water!”
“Yes, but water decomposed into its primitive elements,” replied Cyrus
Harding, “and decomposed doubtless, by electricity, which will then have
become a powerful and manageable force, for all great discoveries, by
some inexplicable laws, appear to agree and become complete at the same
time. Yes, my friends, I believe that water will one day be employed
as fuel, that hydrogen and oxygen which constitute it, used singly or
together, will furnish an inexhaustible source of heat and light, of
an intensity of which coal is not capable. Some day the coalrooms of
steamers and the tenders of locomotives will, instead of coal, be stored
with these two condensed gases, which will burn in the furnaces with
enormous calorific power. There is, therefore, nothing to fear. As long
as the earth is inhabited it will supply the wants of its inhabitants,
and there will be no want of either light or heat as long as the
productions of the vegetable, mineral or animal kingdoms do not fail us.
I believe, then, that when the deposits of coal are exhausted we shall
heat and warm ourselves with water. Water will be the coal of the
future.”
“I should like to see that,” observed the sailor.
“You were born too soon, Pencroft,” returned Neb, who only took part in
the discussion by these words.
However, it was not Neb’s speech which interrupted the conversation, but
Top’s barking, which broke out again with that strange intonation which
had before perplexed the engineer. At the same time Top began to run
round the mouth of the well, which opened at the extremity of the
interior passage.
“What can Top be barking in that way for?” asked Pencroft.
“And Jup be growling like that?” added Herbert.
In fact the orang, joining the dog, gave unequivocal signs of agitation,
and, singular to say, the two animals appeared more uneasy than angry.
“It is evident,” said Gideon Spilett, “that this well is in direct
communication with the sea, and that some marine animal comes from time
to time to breathe at the bottom.”
“That’s evident,” replied the sailor, “and there can be no other
explanation to give. Quiet there, Top!” added Pencroft, turning to the
dog, “and you, Jup, be off to your room!”
The ape and the dog were silent. Jup went off to bed, but Top remained
in the room, and continued to utter low growls at intervals during the
rest of the evening. There was no further talk on the subject, but the
incident, however, clouded the brow of the engineer.
During the remainder of the month of July there was alternate rain and
frost. The temperature was not so low as during the preceding winter,
and its maximum did not exceed eight degrees Fahrenheit. But although
this winter was less cold, it was more troubled by storms and squalls;
the sea besides often endangered the safety of the Chimneys. At times
it almost seemed as if an under-current raised these monstrous billows
which thundered against the wall of Granite House.
When the settlers, leaning from their windows, gazed on the huge watery
masses breaking beneath their eyes, they could not but admire the
magnificent spectacle of the ocean in its impotent fury. The waves
rebounded in dazzling foam, the beach entirely disapppearing under the
raging flood, and the cliff appearing to emerge from the sea itself, the
spray rising to a height of more than a hundred feet.
During these storms it was difficult and even dangerous to venture out,
owing to the frequently falling trees; however, the colonists never
allowed a week to pass without having paid a visit to the corral.
Happily, this enclosure, sheltered by the southeastern spur of Mount
Franklin, did not greatly suffer from the violence of the hurricanes,
which spared its trees, sheds, and palisades; but the poultry-yard on
Prospect Heights, being directly exposed to the gusts of wind from the
east, suffered considerable damage. The pigeon-house was twice unroofed
and the paling blown down. All this required to be remade more solidly
than before, for, as may be clearly seen, Lincoln Island was situated in
one of the most dangerous parts of the Pacific. It really appeared as if
it formed the central point of vast cyclones, which beat it perpetually
as the whip does the top, only here it was the top which was motionless
and the whip which moved. During the first week of the month of August
the weather became more moderate, and the atmosphere recovered the calm
which it appeared to have lost forever. With the calm the cold again
became intense, and the thermometer fell to eight degrees Fahrenheit,
below zero.
On the 3rd of August an excursion which had been talked of for several
days was made into the southeastern part of the island, towards Tadorn
Marsh. The hunters were tempted by the aquatic game which took up their
winter quarters there. Wild duck, snipe, teal and grebe abounded there,
and it was agreed that a day should be devoted to an expedition against
these birds.
Not only Gideon Spilett and Herbert, but Pencroft and Neb also took part
in this excursion. Cyrus Harding alone, alleging some work as an excuse,
did not join them, but remained at Granite House.
The hunters proceeded in the direction of Port Balloon, in order to
reach the marsh, after having promised to be back by the evening. Top
and Jup accompanied them. As soon as they had passed over the Mercy
Bridge, the engineer raised it and returned, intending to put into
execution a project for the performance of which he wished to be alone.
Now this project was to minutely explore the interior well, the mouth
of which was on a level with the passage of Granite House, and which
communicated with the sea, since it formerly supplied a way to the
waters of the lake.
Why did Top so often run round this opening? Why did he utter such
strange barks when a sort of uneasiness seemed to draw him towards this
well? Why did Jup join Top in a sort of common anxiety? Had this well
branches besides the communication with the sea? Did it spread towards
other parts of the island? This is what Cyrus Harding wished to know. He
had resolved, therefore, to attempt the exploration of the well during
the absence of his companions, and an opportunity for doing so had now
presented itself.
It was easy to descend to the bottom of the well by employing the rope
ladder which had not been used since the establishment of the lift. The
engineer drew the ladder to the hole, the diameter of which measured
nearly six feet, and allowed it to unroll itself after having securely
fastened its upper extremity. Then, having lighted a lantern, taken a