The Mysterious Island
“I will attempt anything that is desired, Mr. Spilett,” answered the
sailor, “and you know well that I am not a man to flinch!”
“Remember, besides, that we number another sailor amongst us now,”
remarked Neb.
“Who is that?” asked Pencroft.
“Ayrton.”
“If he will consent to come,” said Pencroft.
“Nonsense!” returned the reporter; “do you think that if Lord
Glenarvan’s yacht had appeared at Tabor Island, while he was still
living there, Ayrton would have refused to depart?”
“You forget, my friends,” then said Cyrus Harding, “that Ayrton was not
in possession of his reason during the last years of his stay there. But
that is not the question. The point is to know if we may count among
our chances of being rescued, the return of the Scotch vessel. Now,
Lord Glenarvan promised Ayrton that he would return to take him off from
Tabor Island when he considered that his crimes were expiated, and I
believe that he will return.”
“Yes,” said the reporter, “and I will add that he will return soon, for
it is twelve years since Ayrton was abandoned.”
“Well!” answered Pencroft, “I agree with you that the nobleman will
return, and soon too. But where will he touch? At Tabor Island, and not
at Lincoln Island.”
“That is the more certain,” replied Herbert, “as Lincoln Island is not
even marked on the map.”
“Therefore, my friends,” said the engineer, “we ought to take the
necessary precautions for making our presence and that of Ayrton on
Lincoln Island known at Tabor Island.”
“Certainly,” answered the reporter, “and nothing is easier than to place
in the hut, which was Captain Grant’s and Ayrton’s dwelling, a notice
which Lord Glenarvan and his crew cannot help finding, giving the
position of our island.”
“It is a pity,” remarked the sailor, “that we forgot to take that
precaution on our first visit to Tabor Island.”
“And why should we have done it?” asked Herbert. “At that time we did
not know Ayrton’s history; we did not know that any one was likely to
come some day to fetch him, and when we did know his history, the season
was too advanced to allow us to return then to Tabor Island.”
“Yes,” replied Harding, “it was too late, and we must put off the voyage
until next spring.”
“But suppose the Scotch yacht comes before that,” said Pencroft.
“That is not probable,” replied the engineer, “for Lord Glenarvan would
not choose the winter season to venture into these seas. Either he has
already returned to Tabor Island, since Ayrton has been with us, that is
to say, during the last five months and has left again; or he will not
come till later, and it will be time enough in the first fine October
days to go to Tabor Island, and leave a notice there.”
“We must allow,” said Neb, “that it will be very unfortunate if the
‘Duncan’ has returned to these parts only a few months ago!”
“I hope that it is not so,” replied Cyrus Harding, “and that Heaven has
not deprived us of the best chance which remains to us.”
“I think,” observed the reporter, “that at any rate we shall know what
we have to depend on when we have been to Tabor Island, for if the yacht
has returned there, they will necessarily have left some traces of their
visit.”
“That is evident,” answered the engineer. “So then, my friends, since
we have this chance of returning to our country, we must wait patiently,
and if it is taken from us we shall see what will be best to do.”
“At any rate,” remarked Pencroft, “it is well understood that if we
do leave Lincoln Island, it will not be because we were uncomfortable
there!”
“No, Pencroft,” replied the engineer, “it will be because we are far
from all that a man holds dearest in the world, his family, his friends,
his native land!”
Matters being thus decided, the building of a vessel large enough to
sail either to the Archipelagoes in the north, or to New Zealand in
the west, was no longer talked of, and they busied themselves in their
accustomed occupations, with a view to wintering a third time in Granite
House.
However, it was agreed that before the stormy weather came on, their
little vessel should be employed in making a voyage round the island.
A complete survey of the coast had not yet been made, and the colonists
had but an imperfect idea of the shore to the west and north, from the
mouth of Falls River to the Mandible Capes, as well as of the narrow bay
between them, which opened like a shark’s jaws.
The plan of this excursion was proposed by Pencroft, and Cyrus Harding
fully acquiesced in it, for he himself wished to see this part of his
domain.
The weather was variable, but the barometer did not fluctuate by sudden
movements, and they could therefore count on tolerable weather. However,
during the first week of April, after a sudden barometrical fall, a
renewed rise was marked by a heavy gale of wind, lasting five or six
days; then the needle of the instrument remained stationary at a
height of twenty-nine inches and nine-tenths, and the weather appeared
propitious for an excursion.
The departure was fixed for the 16th of April, and the “Bonadventure,”
anchored in Port Balloon, was provisioned for a voyage which might be of
some duration.
Cyrus Harding informed Ayrton of the projected expedition, and proposed
that he should take part in it, but Ayrton preferring to remain on
shore, it was decided that he should come to Granite House during the
absence of his companions. Master Jup was ordered to keep him company,
and made no remonstrance.
On the morning of the 16th of April all the colonists, including Top,
embarked. A fine breeze blew from the south-west, and the “Bonadventure”
tacked on leaving Port Balloon so as to reach Reptile End. Of the ninety
miles which the perimeter of the island measured, twenty included the
south coast between the port and the promontory. The wind being right
ahead it was necessary to hug the shore.
It took the whole day to reach the promontory, for the vessel on leaving
port had only two hours of ebb tide and had therefore to make way for
six hours against the flood. It was nightfall before the promontory was
doubled.
The sailor then proposed to the engineer that they should continue
sailing slowly with two reefs in the sail. But Harding preferred to
anchor a few cable-lengths from the shore, so as to survey that part of
the coast during the day. It was agreed also that as they were anxious
for a minute exploration of the coast they should not sail during the
night, but would always, when the weather permitted it, be at anchor
near the shore.
The night was passed under the promontory, and the wind having fallen,
nothing disturbed the silence. The passengers, with the exception of the
sailor, scarcely slept as well on board the “Bonadventure” as they would
have done in their rooms at Granite House, but they did sleep however.
Pencroft set sail at break of day, and by going on the larboard tack
they could keep close to the shore.
The colonists knew this beautiful wooded coast, since they had already
explored it on foot, and yet it again excited their admiration. They
coasted along as close in as possible, so as to notice everything,
avoiding always the trunks of trees which floated here and there.
Several times also they anchored, and Gideon Spilett took photographs of
the superb scenery.
About noon the “Bonadventure” arrived at the mouth of Falls River.
Beyond, on the left bank, a few scattered trees appeared, and three
miles further even these dwindled into solitary groups among the western
spurs of the mountain, whose arid ridge sloped down to the shore.
What a contrast between the northern and southern part of the coast!
In proportion as one was woody and fertile so was the other rugged and
barren! It might have been designated as one of those iron coasts, as
they are called in some countries, and its wild confusion appeared to
indicate that a sudden crystallization had been produced in the yet
liquid basalt of some distant geological sea. These stupendous masses
would have terrified the settlers if they had been cast at first on
this part of the island! They had not been able to perceive the sinister
aspect of this shore from the summit of Mount Franklin, for they
overlooked it from too great a height, but viewed from the sea it
presented a wild appearance which could not perhaps be equaled in any
corner of the globe.
The “Bonadventure” sailed along this coast for the distance of half a
mile. It was easy to see that it was composed of blocks of all sizes,
from twenty to three hundred feet in height, and of all shapes, round
like towers, prismatic like steeples, pyramidal like obelisks, conical
like factory chimneys. An iceberg of the Polar seas could not have been
more capricious in its terrible sublimity! Here, bridges were thrown
from one rock to another; there, arches like those of a wave, into the
depths of which the eye could not penetrate; in one place, large vaulted
excavations presented a monumental aspect; in another, a crowd of
columns, spires, and arches, such as no Gothic cathedral ever
possessed. Every caprice of nature, still more varied than those of the
imagination, appeared on this grand coast, which extended over a length
of eight or nine miles.
Cyrus Harding and his companions gazed, with a feeling of surprise
bordering on stupefaction. But, although they remained silent, Top,
not being troubled with feelings of this sort, uttered barks which were
repeated by the thousand echoes of the basaltic cliff. The engineer
even observed that these barks had something strange in them, like those
which the dog had uttered at the mouth of the well in Granite House.
“Let us go close in,” said he.
And the “Bonadventure” sailed as near as possible to the rocky shore.
Perhaps some cave, which it would be advisable to explore, existed
there? But Harding saw nothing, not a cavern, not a cleft which could
serve as a retreat to any being whatever, for the foot of the cliff was
washed by the surf. Soon Top’s barks ceased, and the vessel continued
her course at a few cables-length from the coast.
In the northwest part of the island the shore became again flat and
sandy. A few trees here and there rose above a low, marshy ground, which
the colonists had already surveyed, and in violent contrast to the other
desert shore, life was again manifested by the presence of myriads of
water-fowl. That evening the “Bonadventure” anchored in a small bay
to the north of the island, near the land, such was the depth of water
there. The night passed quietly, for the breeze died away with the last
light of day, and only rose again with the first streaks of dawn.
As it was easy to land, the usual hunters of the colony, that is to say,
Herbert and Gideon Spilett, went for a ramble of two hours or so, and
returned with several strings of wild duck and snipe. Top had
done wonders, and not a bird had been lost, thanks to his zeal and
cleverness.
At eight o’clock in the morning the “Bonadventure” set sail, and ran
rapidly towards North Mandible Cape, for the wind was right astern and
freshening rapidly.
“However,” observed Pencroft, “I should not be surprised if a gale came
up from the west. Yesterday the sun set in a very red-looking horizon,
and now, this morning, those mares-tails don’t forbode anything good.”
These mares-tails are cirrus clouds, scattered in the zenith, their
height from the sea being less than five thousand feet. They look like
light pieces of cotton wool, and their presence usually announces some
sudden change in the weather.
“Well,” said Harding, “let us carry as much sail as possible, and run
for shelter into Shark Gulf. I think that the ‘Bonadventure’ will be
safe there.”
“Perfectly,” replied Pencroft, “and besides, the north coast is merely