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Abandoned by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . CHAPTER XIII here CHAPTER XIII Departure decided upon—Conjectures—Preparations—The three Passengers—First Night—Second Night—Tabor Island—Searching the Shore—Searching the Wood—No one—Animals—Plants—A Dwelling—Deserted. "A castaway!" exclaimed Pencroft; "left on this Tabor Island not two hundred miles from us! Ah, Captain Harding, you won't now oppose my going." "No, Pencroft," replied Cyrus Harding; "and you shall set out as soon as possible." "To-morrow?" "To-morrow!" The engineer still held in his hand the paper which he had taken from the bottle. He contemplated it for some instants, then resumed,— "From this document, my friends, from the way in which it is worded, we may conclude this: first, that the castaway on Tabor Island is a man possessing a considerable knowledge of navigation, since he gives the latitude and longitude of the island exactly as we ourselves found it, and to a second of approximation; secondly, that he is either English or American, as the document is written in the English language." "That is perfectly logical," answered Spilett; "and the presence of this castaway explains the arrival of the case on the shores of our island. There must have been a wreck, since there is a castaway. As to the latter, whoever he may be, it is lucky for him that Pencroft thought of building this boat and of trying her this very day, for a day later and this bottle might have been broken on the rocks." "Indeed," said Herbert, "it is a fortunate chance that the passed exactly where the bottle was still floating!" Bonadventure "Does not this appear strange to you?" asked Harding of Pencroft. "It appears fortunate, that's all," answered the sailor. "Do you see anything extraordinary in it, captain. The bottle must go somewhere, and why not here as well as anywhere else?" "Perhaps you are right, Pencroft," replied the engineer; "and yet—" "But," observed Herbert, "there's nothing to prove that this bottle has been floating long in the sea." "Nothing," replied Gideon Spilett; "and the document appears even to have been recently written. What do you think about it, Cyrus?" "It is difficult to say, and besides we shall soon know," replied Harding. During this conversation Pencroft had not remained in-active. He had put the vessel about, and the , all sails set, was running rapidly towards Claw Cape. Bonadventure Every one was thinking of the castaway on Tabor Island. Should they be in time to save him? This was a great event in the life of the colonists! They themselves were but castaways, but it was to be feared that another might not have been so fortunate, and their duty was to go to his succour. Claw Cape was doubled, and about four o'clock the dropped her anchor at the mouth of the Mercy. Bonadventure That same evening the arrangements for the new expedition were made. It appeared best that Pencroft and Herbert, who knew how to work the vessel, should undertake the voyage alone. By setting out the next day, the 10th of October, they would arrive on the 13th, for with the present wind it would not take more than forty-eight hours to make this passage of a hundred and fifty miles. One day in the island, three or four to return, they might hope therefore that on the 17th they would again reach Lincoln Island. The weather was fine, the barometer was rising, the wind appeared settled, everything then was in favour of these brave men whom an act of humanity was taking far from their island. Thus it had been agreed that Cyrus Harding, Neb, and Gideon Spilett, should remain at Granite House, but an objection was raised, and Spilett, who had not forgotten his business as reporter to the , having declared[Pg 144] that he would go by swimming rather than lose such an opportunity, he was admitted to take a part in the voyage. New York Herald The evening was occupied in transporting on board the articles of bedding, utensils, arms, ammunition, a compass, provisions for a week, and this business being rapidly accomplished the colonists ascended to Granite House. Bonadventure The next day, at five o'clock in the morning, the farewells were said, not without some emotion on both sides, and Pencroft setting sail made towards Claw Cape, which had to be doubled in order to proceed to the south-west. The was already a quarter of a mile from the coast, when the passengers perceived on the heights of Granite House two men waving their farewells; they were Cyrus Harding and Neb. Bonadventure "Our friends," exclaimed Spilett, "this is our first separation for fifteen months." Pencroft, the reporter, and Herbert waved in return, and Granite House soon disappeared behind the high rocks of the Cape. During the first part of the day the was still in sight of the southern coast of Lincoln Island, which soon appeared just like a green basket, with Mount Franklin rising from the centre. The heights, diminished by distance, did not present an appearance likely to tempt vessels to touch there. Reptile End was passed in about an hour, though at a distance of about ten miles. Bonadventure At this distance it was no longer possible to distinguish anything of the Western Coast, which stretched away to the ridges of Mount Franklin, and three hours after the last of Lincoln Island sank below the horizon. The behaved capitally. Bounding over the waves she proceeded rapidly on her course. Pencroft had hoisted the foresail, and steering by the compass followed a rectilinear direction. From time to time Herbert relieved him at the helm, and the lad's hand was so firm that the sailor had not a point to find fault with. Bonadventure Gideon Spilett chatted sometimes with one, sometimes with the other, if wanted he lent a hand with the ropes, and Captain Pencroft was perfectly satisfied with his crew. In the evening the crescent moon, which would not be in its first quarter until the 16th, appeared in the twilight and soon set again. The night was dark but starry, and the next day again promised to be fine. Pencroft prudently lowered the foresail, not wishing to be caught by a sudden gust while carrying too much canvas; it was perhaps an unnecessary precaution on such a calm night, but Pencroft was a prudent sailor and cannot be blamed for it. The reporter slept part of the night. Pencroft and Herbert took turns for a spell of two hours each at the helm. The sailor trusted Herbert as he would himself, and his confidence was justified by the coolness and judgment of the lad. Pencroft gave him his directions as a commander to his steersman, and Herbert never allowed the to swerve even a point. The night passed quietly, as did the day of the 12th of October. A south-easterly direction was strictly maintained, unless the fell in with some unknown current she would come exactly within sight of Tabor Island. Bonadventure Bonadventure As to the sea over which the vessel was then sailing, it was absolutely deserted. Now and then a great albatross or frigate bird passed within gun-shot, and Gideon Spilett wondered if it was to one of them that he had confided his last letter addressed to the . These birds were the only beings that appeared to frequent this part of the ocean between Tabor and Lincoln Island. New York Herald "And yet," observed Herbert, "this is the time that whalers usually proceed towards the southern part of the Pacific. Indeed I do not think there could be a more deserted sea than this." "It is not quite so deserted as all that," replied Pencroft. "What do you mean," asked the reporter. "We are on it. Do you take our vessel for a wreck and us for porpoises?" And Pencroft laughed at his joke. By the evening, according to calculation, it was thought that the had accomplished a distance of a hundred and twenty miles since her departure from Lincoln Island, that is to say in thirty-six hours, which would give her a speed of between three and four knots an hour. The breeze was very slight and might soon drop altogether. However it was hoped that the next morning by break of day, if the calculation had been correct and the course true, they would sight Tabor Island. Bonadventure Neither Gideon Spilett, Herbert, nor Pencroft slept that night. In the expectation of the next day they could not but feel some emotion. There was so much uncertainty in their enterprise! Were they near Tabor Island? Was the island still inhabited by the castaway to whose succour they had come. Who was this man? Would not his presence disturb the little colony till then so united? Besides, would he be content to exchange his prison for another? All these questions, which would no doubt be answered the next day, kept them in suspense, and at the dawn of day they all fixed their gaze on the western horizon. "Land!" shouted Pencroft at about six o'clock in the morning. And it was impossible that Pencroft should be mistaken, it was evident that land was there. Imagine the joy of the little crew of the . In a few hours they would land on the beach of the island! Bonadventure The low coast of Tabor Island, scarcely emerging from the sea, was not more than fifteen miles distant. The head of the , which was a little to the south of the island, was set directly towards it, and as the sun mounted in the east, his rays fell upon one or two headlands. Bonadventure "This is a much less important isle than Lincoln Island," observed Herbert, "and is probably due like ours to some submarine convulsion." At eleven o'clock the was not more than two miles off, and Pencroft, whilst looking for a suitable place at which to land, proceeded very cautiously through the unknown waters. The whole of the island could now be surveyed, and on it could be seen groups of gum and other large trees, of the same species as those growing on Lincoln Island. But the astonishing thing was that no smoke arose to show that the island was inhabited, not a signal appeared on any point of the shore whatever! Bonadventure And yet the document was clear enough; there was a castaway, and this castaway should have been on the watch. In the meanwhile the entered the winding channels among the reefs, and Pencroft observed every turn with extreme care. He had put Herbert at the helm, posting himself in the bows, inspecting the water, whilst he held the halliard in his hand, ready to lower the sail at a moment's notice. Gideon Spilett with his glass eagerly scanned the shore, though without perceiving anything. Bonadventure However at about twelve o'clock the keel of the grated on the bottom. The anchor was let go, the sails furled, and the crew of the little vessel landed. Bonadventure And there was no reason to doubt that this was Tabor Island, since according to the most recent charts there was no island in this part of the Pacific between New Zealand and the American coast. The vessel was securely moored, so that there should be no danger of her being carried away by the receding tide; then Pencroft and his companions, well armed, ascended the shore, so as to gain an elevation of about two hundred and fifty or three hundred feet which rose at a distance of half a mile. "From the summit of that hill," said Spilett, "we can no doubt obtain a complete view of the island, which will greatly facilitate our search." "So as to do here," replied Herbert, "that which Captain Harding did the very first thing on Lincoln Island, by climbing Mount Franklin." "Exactly so," answered the reporter; "and it is the best plan of proceeding." Whilst thus talking the explorers had advanced along a clearing which terminated at the foot of the hill. Flocks of rock-pigeons and sea-swallows, similar to those of Lincoln Island, fluttered around them. Under the woods which skirted the glade on the left they could hear the bushes rustling and see the grass waving, which indicated the presence of timid animals, but still nothing to show that the island was inhabited. Arrived at the foot of the hill, Pencroft, Spilett, and Herbert climbed it in a few minutes, and gazed anxiously round the horizon. They were on an islet which did not measure more than six miles in circumference, its shape not much bordered by capes or promontories, bays or creeks, being a lengthened oval. All around, the lonely sea extended to the limits of the horizon. No land nor even a sail was in sight. This woody islet did not offer the varied aspects of Lincoln Island, arid and wild in one part, but fertile and rich in the other. On the contrary this was a uniform mass of verdure, out of which rose two or three hills of no great height. Obliquely to the oval of the island ran a stream through a wide meadow falling into the sea on the west by a narrow mouth. "The domain is limited," said Herbert. "Yes," rejoined Pencroft. "It would have been too small for us." "And moreover," said the reporter, "it appears to be uninhabited." "Indeed," answered Herbert, "nothing here betrays the presence of man." "Let us go down," said Pencroft, "and search." The sailor and his two companions returned to the shore, to the place where they had left the . Bonadventure They had decided to make the tour of the island on foot, before exploring the interior, so that not a spot should escape their investigations. The beach was easy to follow, and only in some places was their way barred by large rocks, which, however, they easily passed round. The explorers proceeded towards the south, disturbing numerous flocks of sea-birds and herds of seals, which threw themselves into the sea as soon as they saw the strangers at a distance. "Those beasts yonder," observed the reporter, "do not see men for the first time. They fear them, therefore they must know them." An hour after their departure they arrived on the southern point of the islet, terminated by a sharp cape, and proceeded towards the north along the western coast, equally formed by sand and rocks, the background bordered with thick woods. There was not a trace of a habitation in any part, not the print of a human foot on the shore of the island, which after four hours' walking had been gone completely round. It was to say the least very extraordinary, and they were compelled to believe that Tabor Island was not or was no longer inhabited. Perhaps, after all, the document was already several months or several years old, and it was possible in this case, either that the castaway had been enabled to return to his country, or that he had died of misery. Pencroft, Spilett, and Herbert, forming more or less probable conjectures, dined rapidly on board the , so as to be able to continue their excursion until nightfall. This was done at five o'clock in the evening, at which hour they entered the wood. Bonadventure Numerous animals fled at their approach, being principally, one might say, only goats and pigs, which it was easy to see belonged to European species. Doubtless some whaler had landed them on the island, where they had rapidly increased. Herbert resolved to catch one or two living, and take them back to Lincoln Island. It was no longer doubtful that men at some period or other had visited this islet, and this became still more evident when paths appeared trodden through the forest, felled trees, and everywhere traces of the hand of man; but the trees were becoming rotten, and had been felled many years ago; the marks of the axe were velveted with moss, and the grass grew long and thick on the paths, so that it was difficult to find them. "But," observed Gideon Spilett, "this not only proves that men have landed on the island, but also that they lived on it for some time. Now, who were these men? How many of them remain?" "The document," said Herbert, "only spoke of one castaway." "Well, if he is still on the island," replied Pencroft, "it is impossible but that we shall find him." The exploration was continued. The sailor and his companions naturally followed the route which cut diagonally across the island, and they were thus obliged to follow the stream which flowed towards the sea. If the animals of European origin, if works due to a human hand, showed incontestably that men had already visited the island, several specimens of the vegetable kingdom did not prove it less. In some places, in the midst of clearings, it was evident that the soil had been planted with culinary plants, at probably the same distant period. What, then, was Herbert's joy, when he recognised potatoes, chicory, sorrel, carrots, cabbages, and turnips, of which it was sufficient to collect the seed to enrich the soil of Lincoln Island. "Capital, jolly!" exclaimed Pencroft. "That will suit Neb as well as us. Even if we do not find the castaway, at least our voyage will not have been useless, and God will have rewarded us." "Doubtless," replied Gideon Spilett; "but to see the state in which we find these plantations, it is to be feared that the island has not been inhabited for some time." "Indeed," answered Herbert, "an inhabitant, whoever he was, could not have neglected such an important culture!" "Yes," said Pencroft, "the castaway has gone." "We must suppose so." "It must then be admitted that the document has already a distant date?" "Evidently." "And that the bottle only arrived at Lincoln Island after having floated in the sea a long time." "Why not," returned Pencroft. "But night is coming on," added he, "and I think that it will be best to give up the search for the present." "Let us go on board, and to-morrow we will begin again," said the reporter. This was the wisest course, and it was about to be followed when Herbert, pointing to a confused mass among the trees, exclaimed,— "A hut!" All three immediately ran towards the dwelling. In the twilight it was just possible to see that it was built of planks and covered with a thick tarpaulin. The half-closed door was pushed open by Pencroft, who entered with a rapid step. The hut was empty! About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jules Verne (2010). Abandoned. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/33516/pg33516-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

The Bonadventure passed exactly where the bottle was still floating

Abandoned by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . CHAPTER IX here CHAPTER IX Bad Weather—The Hydraulic Lift—Manufacture of Glass-ware—The Bread-tree—Frequent Visits to the Corral—Increase of the Flock—The Reporter's Question—Exact Position of Lincoln Island—Pencroft's Proposal. The weather changed during the first week of March. There had been a full moon at the commencement of the month, and the heat was still excessive. The atmosphere was felt to be full of electricity, and a period of some length of tempestuous weather was to be feared. Indeed, on the 2nd, peals of thunder were heard, the wind blew from the east, and hail rattled against the façade of Granite House like volleys of grape-shot. The door and windows were immediately closed, or everything in the rooms would have been drenched. On seeing these hailstones, some of which were the size of a pigeon's egg, Pencroft's first thought was that his cornfield was in serious danger. He directly rushed to his field, where little green heads were already appearing, and, by means of a great cloth, he managed to protect his crop. This bad weather lasted a week, during which time the thunder rolled without cessation in the depths of the sky. The colonists, not having any pressing work out of doors, profited by the bad weather to work at the interior of Granite House, the arrangement of which was becoming more complete from day to day. The engineer made a turning-lathe, with which he turned several articles both for the toilet and the kitchen, particularly buttons, the want of which was greatly felt. A gun-rack had been made for the firearms, which were kept with extreme care, and neither tables nor cupboards were left incomplete. They sawed, they planed, they filed, they turned: and during the whole of this bad season, nothing was heard but the grinding of tools or the humming of the turning-lathe which responded to the growling of the thunder. Master Jup had not been forgotten, and he occupied a room at the back, near the storeroom, a sort of cabin with a cot always full of good litter, which perfectly suited his taste. "With good old Jup there is never any quarrelling," often repeated Pencroft, "never any improper reply! What a servant, Neb, what a servant!" Of course Jup was now well used to service. He brushed their clothes, he turned the spit, he waited at table, he swept the rooms, he gathered wood, and he performed another admirable piece of service which delighted Pencroft—he never went to sleep without first coming to tuck up the worthy sailor in his bed. As to the health of the members of the colony, bipeds or bimana, quadrumana or quadrupeds, it left nothing to be desired. With their life in the open air, on this salubrious soil, under that temperate zone, working both with head and hands, they could not suppose that illness would ever attack them. All were indeed wonderfully well. Herbert had already grown two inches in the year. His figure was forming and becoming more manly, and he promised to be an accomplished man, physically as well as morally. Besides, he improved himself during the leisure hours which manual occupations left to him; he read the books found in the case; and after the practical lessons which were taught by the very necessity of their position, he found in the engineer for science, and the reporter for languages, masters who were delighted to complete his education. The tempest ended about the 9th of March, but the sky remained covered with clouds during the whole of this last summer month. The atmosphere, violently agitated by the electric commotions, could not recover its former purity, and there was almost invariably rain and fog, except for three or four fine days on which several excursions were made. About this time the female onaga gave birth to a young one which belonged to the same sex as its mother, and which throve capitally. In the corral, the flock of musmons had also increased, and several lambs already bleated in the sheds, to the great delight of Neb and Herbert, who had each their favourite among these new-comers. An attempt was also made for the domestication of the peccaries, which succeeded well. A sty was constructed near the poultry-yard, and soon contained several young ones in the way to become civilised, that is to say, to become fat under Neb's care. Master Jup, entrusted with carrying them their daily nourishment, leavings from the kitchen, etc., acquitted himself conscientiously of his task. He sometimes amused himself at the expense of his little pensioners by tweaking their tails; but this was mischief, and not wickedness, for these little twisted tails amused him like a plaything, and his instinct was that of a child. One day in this month of March, Pencroft, talking to the engineer, reminded Cyrus Harding of a promise which the latter had not as yet had time to fulfil. "You once spoke of an apparatus which would take the place of the long ladders at Granite House, captain," said he; "won't you make it some day?" "Nothing will be easier; but is this a really useful thing?" "Certainly, captain. After we have given ourselves necessaries, let us think a little of luxury. For us it may be luxury, if you like, but for things it is necessary. It isn't very convenient to climb up a long ladder when one is heavily loaded." "Well, Pencroft, we will try to please you," replied Cyrus Harding. "But you have no machine at your disposal." "We will make one." "A steam machine?" "No, a water machine." And, indeed, to work his apparatus there was already a natural force at the disposal of the engineer which could be used without great difficulty. For this, it was enough to augment the flow of the little stream which supplied the interior of Granite House with water. The opening among the stones and grass was then increased, thus producing a strong fall at the bottom of the passage, the overflow from which escaped by the inner well. Below this fall the engineer fixed a cylinder with paddles, which was joined on the exterior with a strong cable rolled on a wheel, supporting a basket. In this way, by means of a long rope reaching to the ground, which enabled them to regulate the motive power, they could rise in the basket to the door of Granite House. It was on the 17th of March that the lift acted for the first time, and gave universal satisfaction. Henceforward all the loads, wood, coal, provisions, and even the settlers themselves, were hoisted by this simple system, which replaced the primitive ladder, and, as may be supposed, no one thought of regretting the change. Top particularly was enchanted with this improvement, for he had not, and never could have possessed Master Jup's skill in climbing ladders, and often it was on Neb's back, or even on that of the orang, that he had been obliged to make the ascent to Granite House. About this time, too, Cyrus Harding attempted to manufacture glass and he at first put the old pottery-kiln to this new use. There were some difficulties to be encountered, but after several fruitless attempts, he succeeded in setting up a glass manufactory, which Gideon Spilett and Herbert, his usual assistants did not leave for several days. As to the substances used in the composition of glass, they are simply sand, chalk and soda, either carbonate or sulphate. Now the beach supplied sand, lime supplied chalk, sea weeds supplied soda, pyrites supplied sulphuric acid and the ground supplied coal to heat the kiln to the wished-for temperature. Cyrus Harding thus soon had every thing ready for setting to work. The tool, the manufacture of which presented the most difficulty, was the pipe of the glass maker, an iron tube, five or six feet long, which collects on one end the material in a state of fusion. But by means of a long, thin piece of iron rolled up like the barrel of a gun, Pencroft succeeded in making a tube soon ready for use. On the 28th of March the tube was heated. A hundred parts of sand thirty-five of chalk, forty of sulphate of soda, mixed with two or three parts of powered coal, composed the substance which was placed in crucibles. When the high temperature of the oven had reduced it to a liquid, or rather a pasty state, Cyrus Harding collected with the tube a quantity of the paste, he turned it about on a metal plate previously arranged so as to give it a form suitable for blowing, then he passed the tube to Herbert, telling him to blow at the other extremity. And Herbert, swelling out his cheeks, blew so much and so well into the tube—taking care to twirl it round at the same time—that his breath dilated the glassy mass. Other quantities of the substance in a state of fusion were added to the first, and in a short time the result was a bubble which measured a foot in diameter. Harding then took the tube out of Herbert's hands, and, giving to it a pendulous motion, he ended by lengthening the malleable bubble so as to give it a cylindro-conic shape. The blowing operation had given a cylinder of glass terminated by two hemispheric caps, which were easily detached by means of a sharp iron dipped in cold water; then, by the same proceeding, this cylinder was cut lengthways, and after having been rendered malleable by a second heating, it was extended on a plate and spread out with a wooden roller. The first pane was thus manufactured, and they had only to perform this operation fifty times to have fifty panes. The windows at Granite House were soon furnished with panes; not very white, perhaps, but still sufficiently transparent. As to bottles and tumblers, that was only play. They were satisfied with them, besides, just as they came from the end of the tube. Pencroft had asked to be allowed to "blow" in his turn, and it was great fun for him; but he blew so hard that his productions took the most ridiculous shapes, which he admired immensely. Cyrus Harding and Herbert, whilst hunting one day, had entered the forest of the Far West, on the left bank of the Mercy, and, as usual, the lad was asking a thousand questions of the engineer, who answered them heartily. Now, as Harding was not a sportsman, and as, on the other side, Herbert was talking chemistry and natural philosophy, numbers of kangaroos, capybaras, and agoutis came within range, which, however, escaped the lad's gun; the consequence was that the day was already advanced, and the two hunters were in danger of having made a useless excursion, when Herbert, stopping, and uttering a cry of joy, exclaimed,— "Oh, Captain Harding, do you see that tree?" and he pointed to a shrub, rather than a tree, for it was composed of a single stem, covered with a scaly bark, which bore leaves streaked with little parallel veins. "And what is this tree which resembles a little palm?" asked Harding. "It is a 'cycas revoluta,' of which I have a picture in our dictionary of Natural History!" said Herbert. "But I can't see any fruit on this shrub!" observed his companion. "No, captain," replied Herbert; "but its stem contains a flour with which nature has provided us all ready ground." "It is, then, the bread-tree?" "Yes, the bread-tree." "Well, my boy," replied the engineer, "this is a valuable discovery, since our wheat harvest is not yet ripe; I hope that you are not mistaken!" Herbert was not mistaken: he broke the stem of a cycas, which was composed of a glandulous tissue, containing a quantity of floury pith, traversed with woody fibre, separated by rings of the same substance, arranged concentrically. With this fecula was mingled a mucilaginous juice of disagreeable flavour, but which it would be easy to get rid of by pressure. This cellular substance was regular flour of a superior quality, extremely nourishing; its exportation was formerly forbidden by the Japanese laws. Cyrus Harding and Herbert, after having examined that part of the Far West where the cycas grew, took their bearings, and returned to Granite House, where they made known their discovery. The next day the settlers went to collect some and returned to Granite House with an ample supply of cycas stems. The engineer constructed a press, with which to extract the mucilaginous juice mingled with the fecula, and he obtained a large quantity of flour, which Neb soon transformed into cakes and puddings. This was not quite real wheaten bread, but it was very like it. Now, too, the onaga, the goats, and the sheep in the corral furnished daily the milk necessary to the colony. The cart, or rather a sort of light carriole which had replaced it, made frequent journeys to the corral, and when it was Pencroft's turn to go he took Jup, and let him drive, and Jup, cracking his whip, acquitted himself with his customary intelligence. Everything prospered, as well in the corral as in Granite House and certainly the settlers, if it had not been that they were so far from their native land, had no reason to complain. They were so well suited to this life, and were, besides, so accustomed to the island, that they could not have left its hospitable soil without regret! And yet so deeply is the love of his country implanted in the heart of man, that if a ship had unexpectedly come in sight of the island, the colonists would have made signals, would have attracted her attention, and would have departed! It was the 1st of April, a Sunday, Easter Day, which Harding and his companions sanctified by rest and prayer. The day was fine, such as an October day in the northern hemisphere might be. All, towards the evening after dinner, were seated under the verandah on the edge of Prospect Heights, and they were watching the darkness creeping up from the horizon. Some cups of the infusion of elder berries, which took the place of coffee, had been served by Neb. They were speaking of the island and of its isolated situation in the Pacific, which led Gideon Spilett to say,— "My dear Cyrus, have you ever, since you possessed the sextant found in the case, again taken the position of our island?" "No," replied the engineer "But it would perhaps be a good thing to do it with this instrument, which is more perfect than that which you before used." "What is the good?" said Pencroft. "The island is quite comfortable where it is!" "Well, who knows," returned the reporter, "who knows but that we may be much nearer inhabited land than we think?" "We shall know to morrow," replied Cyrus Harding, "and if it had not been for the occupations which left me no leisure, we should have known it already." "Good!" said Pencroft. "The captain is too good an observer to be mistaken, and, if it has not moved from its place, the island is just where he put it." "We shall see." On the next day, therefore, by means of the sextant, the engineer made the necessary observations to verify the position which he had already obtained, and this was the result of his operation. His first observation had given him for the situation of Lincoln Island,— In west longitude: from 150° to 155°; In south latitude: from 30° to 35°. The second gave exactly: In longitude: 150° 30´; In south latitude: 34° 57´. So then, notwithstanding the imperfection of his apparatus, Cyrus Harding had operated with so much skill that his error did not exceed five degrees. "Now," said Gideon Spilett, "since we possess an atlas as well as a sextant, let us see, my dear Cyrus, the exact position which Lincoln Island occupies in the Pacific." Herbert fetched the atlas, and the map of the Pacific was opened, and the engineer, compass in hand, prepared to determine their position. Suddenly the compasses stopped, and he exclaimed,— "But an island exists in this part of the Pacific already!" "An island?" cried Pencroft. "Tabor Island." "An important island?" "No, an islet lost in the Pacific, and which perhaps has never been visited." "Well, we will visit it," said Pencroft. "We?" "Yes, captain. We will build a decked boat, and I will undertake to steer her. At what distance are we from this Tabor Island?" "About a hundred and fifty miles to the north-east," replied Harding. "A hundred and fifty miles! And what's that?" returned Pencroft. "In forty-eight hours, with a good wind, we should sight it!" And, on this reply, it was decided that a vessel should be constructed in time to be launched towards the month of next October, on the return of the fine season. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jules Verne (2010). Abandoned. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/33516/pg33516-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

There had been a full moon at the commencement of the month

Sylvie and Bruno by Lewis Carroll, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . A CHANGED CROCODILE here CHAPTER XVI. A CHANGED CROCODILE The Marvellous—the Mysterious—had quite passed out of my life for the moment: and the Common-place reigned supreme. I turned in the direction of the Earl's house, as it was now 'the witching hour' of five, and I knew I should find them ready for a cup of tea and a quiet chat. Lady Muriel and her father gave me a delightfully warm welcome. They were not of the folk we meet in fashionable drawing-rooms who conceal all such feelings as they may chance to possess beneath the impenetrable mask of a conventional placidity. 'The Man with the Iron Mask' was, no doubt, a rarity and a marvel in his own age: in modern London no one would turn his head to give him a second look! No, these were real people. When they looked pleased, it meant that they were pleased: and when Lady Muriel said, with a bright smile, “I'm very glad to see you again!”, I knew that it was true. Still I did not venture to disobey the injunctions—crazy as I felt them to be—of the lovesick young Doctor, by so much as alluding to his existence: and it was only after they had given me full details of a projected picnic, to which they invited me, that Lady Muriel exclaimed, almost as an after-thought, “and do, if you can, bring Doctor Forester with you! I'm sure a day in the country would do him good. I'm afraid he studies too much—” It was 'on the tip of my tongue' to quote the words “His only books are woman's looks!” but I checked myself just in time—with something of the feeling of one who has crossed a street, and has been all but run over by a passing 'Hansom.' “—and I think he has too lonely a life,” she went on, with a gentle earnestness that left no room whatever to suspect a double meaning. “Do get him to come! And don't forget the day, Tuesday week. We can drive you over. It would be a pity to go by rail——there is so much pretty scenery on the road. And our open carriage just holds four.” “Oh, I'll persuade him to come!” I said with confidence—thinking “it would take all my powers of persuasion to keep him away!” The picnic was to take place in ten days: and though Arthur readily accepted the invitation I brought him, nothing that I could say would induce him to call—either with me or without me on the Earl and his daughter in the meanwhile. No: he feared to “wear out his welcome,” he said: they had “seen enough of him for one while”: and, when at last the day for the expedition arrived, he was so childishly nervous and uneasy that I thought it best so to arrange our plans that we should go separately to the house—my intention being to arrive some time after him, so as to give him time to get over a meeting. With this object I purposely made a considerable circuit on my way to the Hall (as we called the Earl's house): “and if I could only manage to lose my way a bit,” I thought to myself, “that would suit me capitally!” In this I succeeded better, and sooner, than I had ventured to hope for. The path through the wood had been made familiar to me, by many a solitary stroll, in my former visit to Elveston; and how I could have so suddenly and so entirely lost it—even though I was so engrossed in thinking of Arthur and his lady-love that I heeded little else—was a mystery to me. “And this open place,” I said to myself, “seems to have some memory about it I cannot distinctly recall—surely it is the very spot where I saw those Fairy-Children! But I hope there are no snakes about!” I mused aloud, taking my seat on a fallen tree. “I certainly do not like snakes—and I don't suppose Bruno likes them, either!” “No, he doesn't like them!” said a demure little voice at my side. “He's not afraid of them, you know. But he doesn't like them. He says they're too waggly!” Words fail me to describe the beauty of the little group—couched on a patch of moss, on the trunk of the fallen tree, that met my eager gaze: Sylvie reclining with her elbow buried in the moss, and her rosy cheek resting in the palm of her hand, and Bruno stretched at her feet with his head in her lap. {Image...Fairies resting} “Too waggly?” was all I could say in so sudden an emergency. “I'm not praticular,” Bruno said, carelessly: “but I do like straight animals best—” “But you like a dog when it wags its tail,” Sylvie interrupted. “You know you do, Bruno!” “But there's more of a dog, isn't there, Mister Sir?” Bruno appealed to me. “You wouldn't like to have a dog if it hadn't got nuffin but a head and a tail?” I admitted that a dog of that kind would be uninteresting. “There isn't such a dog as that,” Sylvie thoughtfully remarked. “But there would be,” cried Bruno, “if the Professor shortened it up for us!” “Shortened it up?” I said. “That's something new. How does he do it?” “He's got a curious machine,” Sylvie was beginning to explain. “A welly curious machine,” Bruno broke in, not at all willing to have the story thus taken out of his mouth, “and if oo puts in—some-finoruvver—at one end, oo know and he turns the handle—and it comes out at the uvver end, oh, ever so short!” “As short as short!” Sylvie echoed. “And one day when we was in Outland, oo know—before we came to Fairyland me and Sylvie took him a big Crocodile. And he shortened it up for us. And it did look so funny! And it kept looking round, and saying 'wherever is the rest of me got to?' And then its eyes looked unhappy—” “Not both its eyes,” Sylvie interrupted. “Course not!” said the little fellow. “Only the eye that couldn't see wherever the rest of it had got to. But the eye that could see wherever—” “How short was the crocodile?” I asked, as the story was getting a little complicated. “Half as short again as when we caught it—so long,” said Bruno, spreading out his arms to their full stretch. I tried to calculate what this would come to, but it was too hard for me. Please make it out for me, dear Child who reads this! “But you didn't leave the poor thing so short as that, did you?” “Well, no. Sylvie and me took it back again and we got it stretched to—to—how much was it, Sylvie?” “Two times and a half, and a little bit more,” said Sylvie. “It wouldn't like that better than the other way, I'm afraid?” “Oh, but it did though!” Bruno put in eagerly. “It were proud of its new tail! Oo never saw a Crocodile so proud! Why, it could go round and walk on the top of its tail, and along its back, all the way to its head!” {Image...A changed crocodile} “Not quite all the way,” said Sylvie. “It couldn't, you know.” “Ah, but it did, once!” Bruno cried triumphantly. “Oo weren't looking—but I watched it. And it walked on tippiety-toe, so as it wouldn't wake itself, 'cause it thought it were asleep. And it got both its paws on its tail. And it walked and it walked all the way along its back. And it walked and it walked on its forehead. And it walked a tiny little way down its nose! There now!” This was a good deal worse than the last puzzle. Please, dear Child, help again! “I don't believe no Crocodile never walked along its own forehead!” Sylvie cried, too much excited by the controversy to limit the number of her negatives. “Oo don't know the reason why it did it!” Bruno scornfully retorted. “It had a welly good reason. I heerd it say 'Why shouldn't I walk on my own forehead?' So a course it did, oo know!” “If that's a good reason, Bruno,” I said, “why shouldn't you get up that tree?” “Shall, in a minute,” said Bruno: “soon as we've done talking. Only two peoples ca'n't talk comfably togevver, when one's getting up a tree, and the other isn't!” It appeared to me that a conversation would scarcely be 'comfable' while trees were being climbed, even if both the 'peoples' were doing it: but it was evidently dangerous to oppose any theory of Bruno's; so I thought it best to let the question drop, and to ask for an account of the machine that made things longer. This time Bruno was at a loss, and left it to Sylvie. “It's like a mangle,” she said: “if things are put in, they get squoze—” “Squeezeled!” Bruno interrupted. “Yes.” Sylvie accepted the correction, but did not attempt to pronounce the word, which was evidently new to her. “They get—like that—and they come out, oh, ever so long!” “Once,” Bruno began again, “Sylvie and me writed—” “Wrote!” Sylvie whispered. “Well, we wroted a Nursery-Song, and the Professor mangled it longer for us. It were 'There was a little Man, And he had a little gun, And the bullets—'” “I know the rest,” I interrupted. “But would you say it long I mean the way that it came out of the mangle?” “We'll get the Professor to sing it for you,” said Sylvie. “It would spoil it to say it.” “I would like to meet the Professor,” I said. “And I would like to take you all with me, to see some friends of mine, that live near here. Would you like to come?” “I don't think the Professor would like to come,” said Sylvie. “He's very shy. But we'd like it very much. Only we'd better not come this size, you know.” The difficulty had occurred to me already: and I had felt that perhaps there would be a slight awkwardness in introducing two such tiny friends into Society. “What size will you be?” I enquired. “We'd better come as—common children,” Sylvie thoughtfully replied. “That's the easiest size to manage.” “Could you come to-day?” I said, thinking “then we could have you at the picnic!” Sylvie considered a little. “Not to-day,” she replied. “We haven't got the things ready. We'll come on—Tuesday next, if you like. And now, really Bruno, you must come and do your lessons.” “I wiss oo wouldn't say 'really Bruno!'” the little fellow pleaded, with pouting lips that made him look prettier than ever. “It always show's there's something horrid coming! And I won't kiss you, if you're so unkind.” “Ah, but you have kissed me!” Sylvie exclaimed in merry triumph. “Well then, I'll unkiss you!” And he threw his arms round her neck for this novel, but apparently not very painful, operation. “It's very like kissing!” Sylvie remarked, as soon as her lips were again free for speech. “Oo don't know nuffin about it! It were just the conkery!” Bruno replied with much severity, as he marched away. Sylvie turned her laughing face to me. “Shall we come on Tuesday?” she said. “Very well,” I said: “let it be Tuesday next. But where is the Professor? Did he come with you to Fairyland?” “No,” said Sylvie. “But he promised he'd come and see us, some day. He's getting his Lecture ready. So he has to stay at home.” “At home?” I said dreamily, not feeling quite sure what she had said. “Yes, Sir. His Lordship and Lady Muriel are at home. Please to walk this way.” About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Lewis Carroll (1996). Sylvie and Bruno. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/620/pg620-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

A CHANGED CROCODILE

FAIRY-SYLVIE

The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Chapter XIII here Chapter XIII “A castaway!” exclaimed Pencroft; “left on this Tabor Island not two hundred miles from us! Ah, Captain Harding, you won’t now oppose my going.” “No, Pencroft,” replied Cyrus Harding; “and you shall set out as soon as possible.” “To-morrow?” “To-morrow!” The engineer still held in his hand the paper which he had taken from the bottle. He contemplated it for some instants, then resumed, “From this document, my friends, from the way in which it is worded, we may conclude this: first, that the castaway on Tabor Island is a man possessing a considerable knowledge of navigation, since he gives the latitude and longitude of the island exactly as we ourselves found it, and to a second of approximation; secondly, that he is either English or American, as the document is written in the English language.” “That is perfectly logical,” answered Spilett; “and the presence of this castaway explains the arrival of the case on the shores of our island. There must have been a wreck, since there is a castaway. As to the latter, whoever he may be, it is lucky for him that Pencroft thought of building this boat and of trying her this very day, for a day later and this bottle might have been broken on the rocks.” “Indeed,” said Herbert, “it is a fortunate chance that the ‘Bonadventure’ passed exactly where the bottle was still floating!” “Does not this appear strange to you?” asked Harding of Pencroft. “It appears fortunate, that’s all,” answered the sailor. “Do you see anything extraordinary in it, captain? The bottle must go somewhere, and why not here as well as anywhere else?” “Perhaps you are right, Pencroft,” replied the engineer; “and yet—” “But,” observed Herbert, “there’s nothing to prove that this bottle has been floating long in the sea.” “Nothing,” replied Gideon Spilett, “and the document appears even to have been recently written. What do you think about it, Cyrus?” During this conversation Pencroft had not remained inactive. He had put the vessel about, and the “Bonadventure,” all sails set, was running rapidly towards Claw Cape. Every one was thinking of the castaway on Tabor Island. Should they be in time to save him? This was a great event in the life of the colonists! They themselves were but castaways, but it was to be feared that another might not have been so fortunate, and their duty was to go to his succor. Claw Cape was doubled, and about four o’clock the “Bonadventure” dropped her anchor at the mouth of the Mercy. That same evening the arrangements for the new expedition were made. It appeared best that Pencroft and Herbert, who knew how to work the vessel, should undertake the voyage alone. By setting out the next day, the 10th of October, they would arrive on the 13th, for with the present wind it would not take more than forty-eight hours to make this passage of a hundred and fifty miles. One day in the island, three or four to return, they might hope therefore that on the 17th they would again reach Lincoln Island. The weather was fine, the barometer was rising, the wind appeared settled, everything then was in favor of these brave men whom an act of humanity was taking far from their island. Thus it had been agreed that Cyrus Harding, Neb, and Gideon Spilett should remain at Granite House, but an objection was raised, and Spilett, who had not forgotten his business as reporter to the New York Herald, having declared that he would go by swimming rather than lose such an opportunity, he was admitted to take a part in the voyage. The evening was occupied in transporting on board the “Bonadventure,” articles of bedding, utensils, arms, ammunition, a compass, provisions for a week; this being rapidly done, the colonists ascended to Granite House. The next day, at five o’clock in the morning, the farewells were said, not without some emotion on both sides, and Pencroft setting sail made towards Claw Cape, which had to be doubled in order to proceed to the southwest. The “Bonadventure” was already a quarter of a mile from the coast when the passengers perceived on the heights of Granite House two men waving their farewells; they were Cyrus Harding and Neb. “Our friends,” exclaimed Spilett, “this is our first separation in fifteen months.” Pencroft, the reporter and Herbert waved in return, and Granite House soon disappeared behind the high rocks of the Cape. During the first part of the day the “Bonadventure” was still in sight of the southern coast of Lincoln Island, which soon appeared just like a green basket, with Mount Franklin rising from the center. The heights, diminished by distance, did not present an appearance likely to tempt vessels to touch there. Reptile End was passed in about an hour, though at a distance of about ten miles. At this distance it was no longer possible to distinguish anything of the Western Coast, which stretched away to the ridges of Mount Franklin, and three hours after the last of Lincoln Island sank below the horizon. The “Bonadventure” behaved capitally. Bounding over the waves she proceeded rapidly on her course. Pencroft had hoisted the foresail, and steering by the compass followed a rectilinear direction. From time to time Herbert relieved him at the helm, and the lad’s hand was so firm that the sailor had not a point to find fault with. Gideon Spilett chatted sometimes with one, sometimes with the other, if wanted he lent a hand with the ropes, and Captain Pencroft was perfectly satisfied with his crew. In the evening the crescent moon, which would not be in its first quarter until the 16th, appeared in the twilight and soon set again. The night was dark but starry, and the next day again promised to be fine. Pencroft prudently lowered the foresail, not wishing to be caught by a sudden gust while carrying too much canvas; it was perhaps an unnecessary precaution on such a calm night, but Pencroft was a prudent sailor and cannot be blamed for it. The reporter slept part of the night. Pencroft and Herbert took turns for a spell of two hours each at the helm. The sailor trusted Herbert as he would himself, and his confidence was justified by the coolness and judgment of the lad. Pencroft gave him his directions as a commander to his steersman, and Herbert never allowed the “Bonadventure” to swerve even a point. The night passed quickly, as did the day of the 12th of October. A south-easterly direction was strictly maintained. Unless the “Bonadventure” fell in with some unknown current she would come exactly within sight of Tabor Island. As to the sea over which the vessel was then sailing, it was absolutely deserted. Now and then a great albatross or frigate bird passed within gunshot, and Gideon Spilett wondered if it was to one of them that he had confided his last letter addressed to the New York Herald. These birds were the only beings that appeared to frequent this part of the ocean between Tabor and Lincoln Islands. “And yet,” observed Herbert, “this is the time that whalers usually proceed towards the southern part of the Pacific. Indeed I do not think there could be a more deserted sea than this.” “It is not quite so deserted as all that,” replied Pencroft. “What do you mean?” asked the reporter. “We are on it. Do you take our vessel for a wreck and us for porpoises?” And Pencroft laughed at his joke. By the evening, according to calculation, it was thought that the “Bonadventure” had accomplished a distance of a hundred and twenty miles since her departure from Lincoln Island, that is to say in thirty-six hours, which would give her a speed of between three and four knots. The breeze was very slight and might soon drop altogether. However, it was hoped that the next morning by break of day, if the calculation had been correct and the course true, they would sight Tabor Island. Neither Gideon Spilett, Herbert, nor Pencroft slept that night. In the expectation of the next day they could not but feel some emotion. There was so much uncertainty in their enterprise! Were they near Tabor Island? Was the island still inhabited by the castaway to whose succor they had come? Who was this man? Would not his presence disturb the little colony till then so united? Besides, would he be content to exchange his prison for another? All these questions, which would no doubt be answered the next day, kept them in suspense, and at the dawn of day they all fixed their gaze on the western horizon. “Land!” shouted Pencroft at about six o’clock in the morning. And it was impossible that Pencroft should be mistaken, it was evident that land was there. Imagine the joy of the little crew of the “Bonadventure.” In a few hours they would land on the beach of the island! The low coast of Tabor Island, scarcely emerging from the sea, was not more than fifteen miles distant. The head of the “Bonadventure,” which was a little to the south of the island, was set directly towards it, and as the sun mounted in the east, its rays fell upon one or two headlands. “This is a much less important isle than Lincoln Island,” observed Herbert, “and is probably due like ours to some submarine convulsion.” At eleven o’clock the “Bonadventure” was not more than two miles off, and Pencroft, while looking for a suitable place at which to land, proceeded very cautiously through the unknown waters. The whole of the island could now be surveyed, and on it could be seen groups of gum and other large trees, of the same species as those growing on Lincoln Island. But the astonishing thing was that no smoke arose to show that the island was inhabited, no signal whatever appeared on the shore! And yet the document was clear enough; there was a castaway, and this castaway should have been on the watch. In the meanwhile the “Bonadventure” entered the winding channels among the reefs, and Pencroft observed every turn with extreme care. He had put Herbert at the helm, posting himself in the bows, inspecting the water, while he held the halliard in his hand, ready to lower the sail at a moment’s notice. Gideon Spilett with his glass eagerly scanned the shore, though without perceiving anything. However, at about twelve o’clock the keel of the “Bonadventure” grated on the bottom. The anchor was let go, the sails furled, and the crew of the little vessel landed. And there was no reason to doubt that this was Tabor Island, since according to the most recent charts there was no island in this part of the Pacific between New Zealand and the American Coast. The vessel was securely moored, so that there should be no danger of her being carried away by the receding tide; then Pencroft and his companions, well armed, ascended the shore, so as to gain an elevation of about two hundred and fifty or three hundred feet which rose at a distance of half a mile. “From the summit of that hill,” said Spilett, “we can no doubt obtain a complete view of the island, which will greatly facilitate our search.” “So as to do here,” replied Herbert, “that which Captain Harding did the very first thing on Lincoln Island, by climbing Mount Franklin.” “Exactly so,” answered the reporter, “and it is the best plan.” While thus talking the explorers had advanced along a clearing which terminated at the foot of the hill. Flocks of rock-pigeons and sea-swallows, similar to those of Lincoln Island, fluttered around them. Under the woods which skirted the glade on the left they could hear the bushes rustling and see the grass waving, which indicated the presence of timid animals, but still nothing to show that the island was inhabited. Arrived at the foot of the hill, Pencroft, Spilett, and Herbert climbed it in a few minutes, and gazed anxiously round the horizon. They were on an islet, which did not measure more than six miles in circumference, its shape not much bordered by capes or promontories, bays or creeks, being a lengthened oval. All around, the lonely sea extended to the limits of the horizon. No land nor even a sail was in sight. This woody islet did not offer the varied aspects of Lincoln Island, arid and wild in one part, but fertile and rich in the other. On the contrary this was a uniform mass of verdure, out of which rose two or three hills of no great height. Obliquely to the oval of the island ran a stream through a wide meadow falling into the sea on the west by a narrow mouth. “The domain is limited,” said Herbert. “Yes,” rejoined Pencroft: “It would have been too small for us.” “And moreover,” said the reporter, “it appears to be uninhabited.” “Indeed,” answered Herbert, “nothing here betrays the presence of man.” “Let us go down,” said Pencroft, “and search.” The sailor and his two companions returned to the shore, to the place where they had left the “Bonadventure.” They had decided to make the tour of the island on foot, before exploring the interior; so that not a spot should escape their investigations. The beach was easy to follow, and only in some places was their way barred by large rocks, which, however, they easily passed round. The explorers proceeded towards the south, disturbing numerous flocks of sea-birds and herds of seals, which threw themselves into the sea as soon as they saw the strangers at a distance. “Those beasts yonder,” observed the reporter, “do not see men for the first time. They fear them, therefore they must know them.” An hour after their departure they arrived on the southern point of the islet, terminated by a sharp cape, and proceeded towards the north along the western coast, equally formed by sand and rocks, the background bordered with thick woods. There was not a trace of a habitation in any part, not the print of a human foot on the shore of the island, which after four hours’ walking had been gone completely round. It was to say the least very extraordinary, and they were compelled to believe that Tabor Island was not or was no longer inhabited. Perhaps, after all the document was already several months or several years old, and it was possible in this case, either that the castaway had been enabled to return to his country, or that he had died of misery. Pencroft, Spilett, and Herbert, forming more or less probable conjectures, dined rapidly on board the “Bonadventure” so as to be able to continue their excursion until nightfall. This was done at five o’clock in the evening, at which hour they entered the wood. Numerous animals fled at their approach, being principally, one might say, only goats and pigs, which were obviously European species. Doubtless some whaler had landed them on the island, where they had rapidly increased. Herbert resolved to catch one or two living, and take them back to Lincoln Island. It was no longer doubtful that men at some period or other had visited this islet, and this became still more evident when paths appeared trodden through the forest, felled trees, and everywhere traces of the hand of man; but the trees were becoming rotten, and had been felled many years ago; the marks of the axe were velveted with moss, and the grass grew long and thick on the paths, so that it was difficult to find them. “But,” observed Gideon Spilett, “this not only proves that men have landed on the island, but also that they lived on it for some time. Now, who were these men? How many of them remain?” “The document,” said Herbert, “only spoke of one castaway.” “Well, if he is still on the island,” replied Pencroft, “it is impossible but that we shall find him.” The exploration was continued. The sailor and his companions naturally followed the route which cut diagonally across the island, and they were thus obliged to follow the stream which flowed towards the sea. If the animals of European origin, if works due to a human hand, showed incontestably that men had already visited the island, several specimens of the vegetable kingdom did not prove it less. In some places, in the midst of clearings, it was evident that the soil had been planted with culinary plants, at probably the same distant period. What, then, was Herbert’s joy, when he recognized potatoes, chicory, sorrel, carrots, cabbages, and turnips, of which it was sufficient to collect the seed to enrich the soil of Lincoln Island. “Capital, jolly!” exclaimed Pencroft. “That will suit Neb as well as us. Even if we do not find the castaway, at least our voyage will not have been useless, and God will have rewarded us.” “Doubtless,” replied Gideon Spilett, “but to see the state in which we find these plantations, it is to be feared that the island has not been inhabited for some time.” “Indeed,” answered Herbert, “an inhabitant, whoever he was, could not have neglected such an important culture!” “Yes,” said Pencroft, “the castaway has gone.” “We must suppose so.” “It must then be admitted that the document has already a distant date?” “Evidently.” “And that the bottle only arrived at Lincoln Island after having floated in the sea a long time.” “Why not?” returned Pencroft. “But night is coming on,” added he, “and I think that it will be best to give up the search for the present.” “Let us go on board, and to-morrow we will begin again,” said the reporter. This was the wisest course, and it was about to be followed when Herbert, pointing to a confused mass among the trees, exclaimed,— “A hut!” All three immediately ran towards the dwelling. In the twilight it was just possible to see that it was built of planks and covered with a thick tarpaulin. The half-closed door was pushed open by Pencroft, who entered with a rapid step. The hut was empty! About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jules Verne (1998). The Mysterious Island. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1268/1268-h/1268-h.htm This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

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