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2024 is bringing some of that futuristic magic, with a twist, right to our real-world doorstep! Get ready for tech trends that'll bend your brain and blast your expectations into orbit. 1. Sentient AI: Can Machines Dream? Remember HAL from 2001: A Space Odyssey? Or maybe Samantha from Her? Those sci-fi movies where robots start thinking on their own and even feeling emotions are captivating but also a bit unsettling. But what if I told you the line between fiction and reality in this regard is starting to blur in 2024? Buckle up because we're diving deep into the fascinating and slightly scary world of . sentient AI Don't hold your breath for sentient robot buddies just yet, but prepare for mind-blowing AI advancements! While sentience remains a fuzzy concept, DeepMind's co-founder, Demis Hassabis, assures us that machines are about to unlock abilities that'll leave us speechless. The future of intelligence is wilder than you think. Here's what we know (or think we know): AI is getting better at understanding language and emotions. Some AI models can generate human-quality text and even adapt their responses based on the emotional tone of a conversation. AI is learning to learn. This means they can improve their skills and abilities over time without explicit programming. Brain-computer interfaces are bridging the gap between humans and machines. These technologies could one day allow us to directly communicate with AI using our thoughts, offering deeper insights into their internal processes. But here's the catch: We still need to understand consciousness or sentience fully. These are complex concepts that, even for humans, are difficult to define, let alone measure in machines. Some argue that true sentience requires a physical body. Without experiencing the world through senses like touch and taste, can an AI truly understand it? The ethical implications of sentient AI are immense. Questions about rights, responsibilities, and even potential dangers become very real if machines become truly conscious. 2. Brain-Computer Interface: Think It, Do It! Have you watched movies where characters control things with their minds? Like moving objects with a mere thought or typing without touching a keyboard? That sci-fi stuff is becoming a reality fast! 2024 is all about , and they're about to blow your mind (literally!). Brain-Computer Interfaces (BCIs) This technology is opening doors to amazing possibilities: No more drilling holes in your skull! These BCIs use sensors on your scalp to read your brainwaves, making them accessible to everyone. Non-invasive BCIs: Advanced AI algorithms are getting better at understanding your brain signals, translating them into real-world actions with greater accuracy and speed. AI-powered decoding: BCIs are helping diagnose and treat neurological disorders like Parkinson's and epilepsy, offering hope for millions of people. Medical breakthroughs: Here's a snapshot of how BCIs are already making a difference: Application Impact Communication Helping people with speech disabilities communicate by translating their thoughts into words. Gaming Immersing users in virtual worlds like never before, controlling characters and objects with their minds. Rehabilitation Assisting people with paralysis regain control of their limbs and regain independence. But of course, there are concerns! Neuroethics expert Frederic Gilbert flags confusing changes in how AI affects our core concepts of self, like personality and agency. He calls these qualities "obscure and opaque," highlighting the complex, hidden impacts of BCI on who we are. This raises these questions in mind! Who controls your thoughts? And how do we protect them from hacking or misuse? Safety and security: Should we enhance human minds with technology? Who decides who gets access? Ethical considerations: What happens when everyone can control things with their thoughts? Will it make our lives easier or more chaotic? Unforeseen consequences: 3. Quantum Supremacy Reigns Supreme: Well, forget fiction – that mind-blowing power is on the horizon, thanks to a tech trend called quantum supremacy. What is Quantum Supremacy, Anyway? Imagine a computer that doesn't just crunch numbers but harnesses the weird and wonderful laws of quantum mechanics. That's what quantum computers are about. They use qubits, which can be both 0 and 1 at the same time (unlike our regular bits that are either 0 or 1), to achieve mind-blowing speed and tackle problems that would take traditional computers millions of years. Think breaking complex encryption codes, designing life-saving drugs, or simulating the weather with mind-boggling accuracy. Here's why it's a big deal: Quantum Supremacy will solve problems beyond our wildest dreams. Forget traffic jams – quantum computers could optimize traffic flow in real time, minimizing congestion and saving valuable time. Forget incurable diseases – quantum simulations could accelerate drug discovery, leading to breakthroughs in treating currently untreatable illnesses. The possibilities are endless! It's not just about speed; it's about a whole new way of thinking. Quantum computers approach problems differently, opening doors to entirely new solutions and innovations we have yet to consider. It's like unlocking a hidden room of possibilities in the vast library of science and technology. Alan Baratz, The CEO of D-Wave, thinks that the US is finally playing catch-up in using quantum computing to solve real-world problems. Still, countries like Australia, Japan, the UK, and the EU have already been swiftly taking steps to use quantum solutions to address public sector issues. Expect to see this trend explode in 2024. Stay curious, stay informed, and get ready to witness the dawn of a new era in computing. The future is quantum, and it's coming faster than you think! 4. Hyperloop Highways: Warp Speed for Everyone! Stuck in traffic jams? Not anymore! Picture zipping from city to city in minutes, not hours, thanks to hyperloop technology. Imagine vacuum tubes and magnetic levitation whisking you across the country at supersonic speeds. Get ready for shorter travel times, greener transportation options, and a whole new way to explore the world! Here's why Hyperloop is the next big travel trend: Forget traffic jams and delayed flights. Hyperloop can slash travel times between major cities, revolutionizing our transportation system. Speed Demons: Ditch the carbon footprint! Hyperloop uses renewable energy sources and produces much less pollution than traditional transportation. Eco-Friendly Flyer: Imagine a network of Hyperloop tubes crisscrossing continents, connecting cities like never before. It could open up new economic opportunities and boost global trade. City Connector: Buckle up for a smooth, silent, and exhilarating journey! Hyperloop promises a futuristic travel experience unlike anything we've ever seen. The Thrill of the Ride: But hold on, there are some bumps on the road: Building and maintaining Hyperloop infrastructure is expensive. Finding investors and making it affordable for everyone will be crucial for widespread adoption. Cost Concerns: New technology comes with new risks. Ensuring the safety and security of Hyperloop systems is paramount. Safety First: Governments need to develop regulations and legal frameworks for this disruptive technology before it can take off. Regulatory Hurdles: Despite the challenges, the potential of Hyperloop is undeniable. Companies like Virgin Hyperloop One and Hyperloop One are already making significant progress, with test tracks operational in several countries. Dirk Ahlborn, the CEO of Virgin Hyperloop, also hopes that the ongoing advancements and approval from regulators will make hyperloop a fundamental part of transportation systems in the coming decade. 5. Bioprinting Reboots Medicine: Bioprinting, using 3D technology with living cells, is reshaping healthcare. Prepare for potential cures for currently untreatable diseases, personalized cancer treatments, and maybe even printing replacement lungs or hearts! Here's why it's a game-changer: Imagine no more endless waits for organ transplants! Bioprinting opens the door to creating personalized tissues and organs specifically designed for each patient. This means shorter waiting times, fewer complications, and potentially even printing replacement organs like lungs or hearts! Goodbye Waiting Lists, Hello Hope: Forget guesswork! Bioprinting lets scientists build tiny replicas of human organs on a chip, allowing them to test new drugs and treatments with incredible precision. This means safer, more effective medicines and fewer failed trials with real patients. Drug Testing Revolution: No two bodies are alike, and neither should their treatments. Bioprinting allows doctors to create tissues that match your unique genetic makeup, leading to personalized therapies and better outcomes for everyone. Personalized Medicine Takes Center Stage: Imagine damaged nerves and tissues healing themselves! Bioprinting can create scaffolds for your cells to grow on, promoting natural regeneration and potentially reversing injuries that were once considered permanent. Regenerative Medicine Gets a Boost: But wait, there's more! This is just the beginning of the bioprinting story. We're also seeing exciting developments in: This could revolutionize surgery by ensuring adequate blood flow to transplanted organs. Printing blood vessels: Imagine offering rapid relief and promoting faster healing for burn victims. Bioprinting skin for burn victims: Building custom bone replacements could speed up recovery times and make surgeries less invasive. Printing bone grafts: Is it all sunshine and rainbows? Not quite. Bioprinting is still in its early stages, and there are challenges to overcome: These are the materials that "print" the cells, and we need to ensure they're safe, compatible, and support cell growth. Finding the right bioinks: Printing complex organs is still a delicate process, and making it efficient and affordable for widespread use is key. Scaling up production: Who owns the printed tissues? What are the implications for genetic engineering and human enhancement? Ethical considerations: But despite the challenges, the potential of bioprinting is so vast it's hard to ignore. It's like getting a glimpse into a future where medicine is personalized, regenerative, and potentially cures diseases we once thought untreatable. Wrapping Up! Keep an eye out for flying cars (not just for billionaires!), AI-powered homes that manage your life, and sustainable tech that cleans our planet and heals our environment.

Hold Onto Your Hats, Tech Voyagers: 2024's Mind-Bending Trends are Here!

A Floating City and The Blockade Runners by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Chapter XXXI here CHAPTER XXXI. The land announced at the moment when the sea was closing over the corpse of the poor sailor was low-lying and of a yellow colour. This line of slightly elevated downs was Long Island, a great sandy bank enlivened with vegetation, which stretches along the American coast from Montauk Point to Brooklyn, adjoining New York. Several yachts were coasting along this island, which is covered with villas and pleasure-houses, the favourite resorts of the New Yorkists. Every passenger waved his hand to the land so longed for after the tedious voyage, which had not been exempt from painful accidents. Every telescope was directed towards this first specimen of the American continent, and each saw it under a different aspect. The Yankee beheld in it his mother-land; the Southerner regarded these northern lands with a kind of scorn, the scorn of the conquered for the conqueror; the Canadian looked upon it as a man who had only one step to take to call himself a citizen of the Union; the Californian in his mind’s eye traversed the plains of the Far West, and crossing the Rocky Mountains had already set foot on their inexhaustible mines. The Mormonite, with elevated brow and scornful lip, hardly noticed these shores, but peered beyond to where stood the City of the Saints on the borders of Salt Lake, in the far-off deserts. As for the young lovers, this continent was to them the Promised Land. In the meanwhile the sky was growing more and more threatening. A dark line of clouds gathered in the zenith, and a suffocating heat penetrated the atmosphere as though a July sun was shining directly above us. “Would you like me to astonish you?” said the Doctor, who had joined me on the gangway. “Astonish me, Doctor?” “Well, then, we shall have a storm, perhaps a thunder-storm, before the day is over.” “A thunder-storm in the month of April!” I cried. “The ‘Great Eastern’ does not trouble herself about seasons,” replied Dean Pitferge, shrugging his shoulders. “It is a tempest called forth expressly on her account. Look at the threatening aspect of those clouds which cover the sky; they look like antediluvian animals, and before long they will devour each other.” “I confess,” said I, “the sky looks stormy, and were it three months later I should be of your opinion, but not at this time of year.” “I tell you,” replied the Doctor, growing animated, “the storm will burst out before many hours are past. I feel it like a barometer. Look at those vapours rising in a mass, observe that cirrus, those mares’ tails which are blending together, and those thick circles which surround the horizon. Soon there will be a rapid condensing of vapour, which will consequently produce electricity. Besides the mercury has suddenly fallen, and the prevailing wind is south-west, the only one which can brew a storm in winter.” “Your observations may be very true, Doctor,” said I, not willing to yield, “but who has ever witnessed a thunder-storm at this season, and in this latitude?” “We have proof, sir, we have proof on record. Mild winters are often marked by storms. You ought only to have lived in 1772, or even in 1824, and you would have heard the roaring of the thunder, in the first instance in February, and in the second in December. In the month of January, 1837, a thunder-bolt fell near Drammen in Norway, and did considerable mischief. Last year, in the month of February, fishing-smacks from Tréport were struck by lightning. If I had time to consult statistics I would soon put you to silence.” “Well, Doctor, since you will have it so, we shall soon see. At any rate, you are not afraid of thunder?” “Not I,” replied the Doctor. “The thunder is my friend; better still, it is my doctor.” “Your doctor?” “Most certainly. I was struck by lightning in my bed on the 13th July, 1867, at Kew, near London, and it cured me of paralysis in my right arm, when the doctors had given up the case as hopeless.” “You must be joking.” “Not at all. It is an economical treatment by electricity. My dear sir, there are many very authentic facts which prove that thunder surpasses the most skilful physicians, and its intervention is truly marvellous in apparently hopeless cases.” “Nevertheless,” said I, “I have little trust in your doctor, and would not willingly consult him.” “Because you have never seen him at work. Stay; here is an instance which I have heard of as occurring in 1817. A peasant in Connecticut, who was suffering from asthma, supposed to be incurable, was struck by lightning in a field, and radically cured.” In fact I believe the Doctor would have been capable of making the thunder into pills. “Laugh, ignoramus!” said he to me. “You know nothing either of the weather or medicine!” 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 (2022). A Floating City and The Blockade Runners. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/67829/67829-h/67829-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

Every passenger waved his hand to the land so longed for after the tedious voyage

Abandoned by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . CHAPTER I here CHAPTER I Conversation on the Subject of the Bullet—Construction of a Canoe—Hunting—At the Top of a Kauri—Nothing to attest the Presence of Man—Neb and Herbert's Prize—Turning a Turtle—The Turtle disappears—Cyrus Harding's Explanation. It was now exactly seven months since the balloon voyagers had been thrown on Lincoln Island. During that time, notwithstanding the researches they had made, no human being had been discovered. No smoke even had betrayed the presence of man on the surface of the island. No vestiges of his handiwork showed that either at an early or at a late period had man lived there. Not only did it now appear to be uninhabited by any but themselves, but the colonists were compelled to believe that it never had been inhabited. And now, all this scaffolding of reasonings fell before a simple ball of metal, found in the body of an inoffensive rodent! In fact, this bullet must have issued from a firearm, and who but a human being could have used such a weapon? When Pencroft had placed the bullet on the table, his companions looked at it with intense astonishment. All the consequences likely to result from this incident, notwithstanding its apparent insignificance, immediately took possession of their minds. The sudden apparition of a supernatural being could not have startled them more completely. Cyrus Harding did not hesitate to give utterance to the suggestions which this fact, at once surprising and unexpected, could not fail to raise in his mind. He took the bullet, turned it over and over, rolled it between his finger and thumb; then, turning to Pencroft, he asked,— "Are you sure that the peccary wounded by this bullet was not more than three months old?" "Not more, captain," replied Pencroft. "It was still sucking its mother when I found it in the trap." "Well," said the engineer, "that proves that within three months a gun-shot was fired in Lincoln Island." "And that a bullet," added Gideon Spilett, "wounded, though not mortally, this little animal." "That is unquestionable," said Cyrus Harding, "and these are the deductions which must be drawn from this incident: that the island was inhabited before our arrival, or that men have landed here within three months. Did these men arrive here voluntarily or involuntarily, by disembarking on the shore or by being wrecked? This point can only be cleared up later. As to what they were, Europeans or Malays, enemies or friends of our race, we cannot possibly guess; and if they still inhabit the island, or if they have left it, we know not. But these questions are of too much importance to be allowed to remain long unsettled." "No! a hundred times no! a thousand times no!" cried the sailor, springing up from the table. "There are no other men than ourselves on Lincoln Island! By my faith! The island isn't large, and if it had been inhabited, we should have seen some of the inhabitants long before this!" "In fact, the contrary would be very astonishing," said Herbert. "But it would be much more astonishing, I should think," observed the reporter, "that this peccary should have been born with a bullet in its inside!" "At least," said Neb seriously, "if Pencroft has not had—" "Look here, Neb," burst out Pencroft. "Do you think I could have a bullet in my jaw for five or six months without finding it out? Where could it be hidden?" he asked opening his mouth to show the two-and-thirty teeth with which it was furnished. "Look well, Neb, and if you find one hollow tooth in this set, I will let you pull out half a dozen!" "Neb's supposition is certainly inadmissible," replied Harding, who, notwithstanding the gravity of his thoughts, could not restrain a smile. "It is certain that a gun has been fired in the island, within three months at most. But I am inclined to think that the people who landed on this coast were only here a very short time ago, or that they just touched here; for if, when we surveyed the island from the summit of Mount Franklin, it had been inhabited, we should have seen them or we should have been seen ourselves. It is therefore probable that within only a few weeks castaways have been thrown by a storm on some part of the coast. However that may be, it is of consequence to us to have this point settled." "I think that we should act with caution," said the reporter. "Such is my advice," replied Cyrus Harding, "for it is to be feared that Malay pirates have landed on the island!" "Captain," asked the sailor, "would it not be a good plan, before setting out, to build a canoe in which we could either ascend the river, or, if we liked, coast round the island? It will not do to be unprovided." "Your idea is good, Pencroft," replied the engineer, "but we cannot wait for that. It would take at least a month to build a boat." "Yes, a real boat," replied the sailor; "but we do not want one for a sea voyage, and in five days at the most, I will undertake to construct a canoe fit to navigate the Mercy." "Five days," cried Neb, "to build a boat?" "Yes, Neb; a boat in the Indian fashion." "Of wood?" asked the negro, looking still unconvinced. "Of wood," replied Pencroft, "or rather of bark. I repeat, captain, that in five days the work will be finished!" "In five days, then, be it," replied the engineer. "But till that time we must be very watchful," said Herbert. "Very watchful indeed, my friends," replied Harding; "and I beg you to confine your hunting excursions to the neighbourhood of Granite House." The dinner ended less gaily than Pencroft had hoped. So, then, the island was, or had been, inhabited by others than the settlers. Proved as it was by the incident of the bullet, it was hereafter an unquestionable fact, and such a discovery could not but cause great uneasiness amongst the colonists. Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett, before sleeping, conversed long about the matter. They asked themselves if by chance this incident might not have some connection with the inexplicable way in which the engineer had been saved, and the other peculiar circumstances which had struck them at different times. However Cyrus Harding, after having discussed the pros and cons of the question, ended by saying,— "In short, would you like to know my opinion, my dear Spilett?" "Yes, Cyrus." "Well, then, it is this: however minutely we explore the island, we shall find nothing." The next day Pencroft set to work. He did not mean to build a boat with boards and planking, but simply a flat-bottomed canoe, which would be well suited for navigating the Mercy—above all, for approaching its source, where the water would naturally be shallow. Pieces of bark, fastened one to the other, would form a light boat; and in case of natural obstacles, which would render a portage necessary, it would be easily carried. Pencroft intended to secure the pieces of bark by means of nails, to insure the canoe being water-tight. It was first necessary to select the trees which would afford a strong and supple bark for the work. Now the last storm had brought down a number of large birch trees, the bark of which would be perfectly suited for their purpose. Some of these trees lay on the ground, and they had only to be barked, which was the most difficult thing of all, owing to the imperfect tools which the settlers possessed. However, they overcame all difficulties. Whilst the sailor, seconded by the engineer, thus occupied himself without losing an hour, Gideon Spilett and Herbert were not idle. They were made purveyors to the colony. The reporter could not but admire the boy, who had acquired great skill in handling the bow and spear. Herbert also showed great courage and much of that presence of mind which may justly be called "the reasoning of bravery." These two companions of the chase, remembering Cyrus Harding's recommendations, did not go beyond a radius of two miles round Granite House; but the borders of the forest furnished a sufficient tribute of agouties, capybaras, kangaroos, peccaries, etc.; and if the result from the traps was less than during the cold, still the warren yielded its accustomed quota, which might have fed all the colony in Lincoln Island. Often during these excursions, Herbert talked with Gideon Spilett on the incident of the bullet, and the deductions which the engineer drew from it, and one day—it was the 26th of October—he said,— "But, Mr. Spilett, do you not think it very extraordinary that, if any castaways have landed on the island, they have not yet shown themselves near Granite House?" "Very astonishing if they are still here," replied the reporter, "but not astonishing at all if they are here no longer!" "So you think that these people have already quitted the island?" returned Herbert. "It is more than probable, my boy; for if their stay was prolonged, and above all, if they were still here, some accident would have at last betrayed their presence." "But if they were able to go away," observed the lad, "they could not have been castaways." "No, Herbert; or, at least, they were what might be called provisional castaways. It is very possible that a storm may have driven them to the island without destroying their vessel, and that, the storm over, they went away again." "I must acknowledge one thing," said Herbert, "it is that Captain Harding appears rather to fear than desire the presence of human beings on our island." "In short," responded the reporter, "there are only Malays who frequent these seas, and those fellows are ruffians which it is best to avoid." "It is not impossible, Mr. Spilett," said Herbert, "that some day or other we may find traces of their landing." "I do not say no, my boy. A deserted camp, the ashes of a fire, would put us on the track, and this is what we will look for in our next expedition." The day on which the hunters spoke thus, they were in a part of the forest near the Mercy, remarkable for its beautiful trees. There, among others, rose, to a height of nearly 200 feet above the ground, some of those superb coniferæ, to which, in New Zealand, the natives give the name of Kauris. "I have an idea, Mr. Spilett," said Herbert. "If I were to climb to the top of one of these kauris, I could survey the country for an immense distance round." "The idea is good," replied the reporter; "but could you climb to the top of those giants?" "I can at least try," replied Herbert. The light and active boy then sprang on the first branches, the arrangement of which made the ascent of the kauri easy, and in a few minutes he arrived at the summit, which emerged from the immense plain of verdure. From this elevated situation his gaze extended over all the southern portion of the island, from Claw Cape on the south-east, to Reptile End on the south-west. To the north-west rose Mount Franklin, which concealed a great part of the horizon. But Herbert, from the height of his observatory, could examine all the yet unknown portion of the island which might have given shelter to the strangers whose presence they suspected. The lad looked attentively. There was nothing in sight on the sea, not a sail, neither on the horizon nor near the island. However, as the bank of trees hid the shore, it was possible that a vessel, especially if deprived of her masts, might lie close to the land and thus be invisible to Herbert. Neither in the forests of the Far West was anything to be seen. The wood formed an impenetrable screen, measuring several square miles, without a break or an opening. It was impossible even to follow the course of the Mercy, or to ascertain in what part of the mountain it took its source. Perhaps other creeks also ran towards the west, but they could not be seen. But at last, if all indication of an encampment escaped Herbert's sight, could he not even catch a glimpse of smoke, the faintest trace of which would be easily discernible in the pure atmosphere? For an instant Herbert thought he could perceive a slight smoke in the west, but a more attentive examination showed that he was mistaken. He strained his eyes in every direction, and his sight was excellent. No, decidedly there was nothing there. Herbert descended to the foot of the kauri, and the two sportsmen returned to Granite House. There Cyrus Harding listened to the lad's account, shook his head and said nothing. It was very evident that no decided opinion could be pronounced on this question until after a complete exploration of the island. Two days after—the 28th of October—another incident occurred, for which an explanation was again required. Whilst strolling along the shore about two miles from Granite House, Herbert and Neb were fortunate enough to capture a magnificent specimen of the order of chelonia. It was a turtle of the species Midas, the edible green turtle, so called from the colour both of its shell and fat. Herbert caught sight of this turtle as it was crawling among the rocks to reach the sea. "Help, Neb, help!" he cried. Neb ran up. "What a fine animal!" said Neb; "but how are we to catch it?" "Nothing is easier, Neb," replied Herbert. "We have only to turn the turtle on its back, and it cannot possibly get away. Take your spear and do as I do." The reptile, aware of danger, had retired between its carapace and plastron. They no longer saw its head or feet, and it was motionless as a rock. Herbert and Neb then drove their sticks underneath the animal, and by their united efforts managed without difficulty to turn it on its back. The turtle, which was three feet in length, would have weighed at least four hundred pounds. "Capital!" cried Neb; "this is something which will rejoice friend Pencroft's heart." In fact, the heart of friend Pencroft could not fail to be rejoiced, for the flesh of the turtle, which feeds on wrack-grass, is extremely savoury. At this moment the creature's head could be seen, which was small, flat, but widened behind by the large temporal fossæ hidden under the long roof. "And now, what shall we do with our prize?" said Neb. "We can't drag it to Granite House!" "Leave it here, since it cannot turn over," replied Herbert, "and we will come back with the cart to fetch it." "That is the best plan." However, for greater precaution, Herbert took the trouble, which Neb deemed superfluous, to wedge up the animal with great stones, after which the two hunters returned to Granite House, following the beach, which the tide had left uncovered. Herbert, wishing to surprise Pencroft, said nothing about the "superb specimen of a chelonian" which they had turned over on the sand, but, two hours later, he and Neb returned with the cart to the place where they had left it. The "superb specimen of a chelonian" was no longer there! Neb and Herbert stared at each other first, then they stared about them. It was just at this spot that the turtle had been left. The lad even found the stones which he had used, and therefore he was certain of not being mistaken. "Well!" said Neb, "these beasts can turn themselves over, then?" "It appears so," replied Herbert, who could not understand it at all, and was gazing at the stones scattered on the sand. "Well, Pencroft will be disgusted!" "And Captain Harding will perhaps be very perplexed how to explain this disappearance" thought Herbert. "Look here," said Neb, who wished to hide his ill-luck, "we won't speak about it." "On the contrary, Neb we must speak about it," replied Herbert. And the two, taking the cart, which there was now no use for, returned to Granite House. Arrived at the dockyard, where the engineer and the sailor were working together Herbert recounted what had happened. "Oh! the stupids!" cried the sailor, "to have let at least fifty meals escape!" "But, Pencroft," replied Neb, "it wasn't our fault that the beast got away, as I tell you, we had turned it over on its back!" "Then you didn't turn it over enough!" returned the obstinate sailor. "Not enough!" cried Herbert. And he told how he had taken care to wedge up the turtle with stones. "It is a miracle, then!" replied Pencroft. "I thought, captain," said Herbert, "that turtles, once placed on their backs, could not regain their feet, especially when they are of a large size?" "That is true, my boy," replied Cyrus Harding. "Then how did it manage?" "At what distance from the sea did you leave this turtle?" asked the engineer, who, having suspended his work, was reflecting on this incident. "Fifteen feet at the most," replied Herbert. "And the tide was low at the time?" "Yes, captain." "Well," replied the engineer, "what the turtle could not do on the sand it might have been able to do in the water. It turned over when the tide overtook it, and then quietly returned to the deep sea." "Oh! what stupids we were!" cried Neb. "That is precisely what I had the honour of telling you before!" returned the sailor. Cyrus Harding had given this explanation, which, no doubt, was admissible. But was he himself convinced of the accuracy of this explanation? It cannot be said that he was. 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

Exactly seven months since the balloon voyagers had been thrown on Lincoln Island

Dick Sands the Boy Captain by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . AN ANXIOUS VOYAGE here AN ANXIOUS VOYAGE. Thus the canoe drifted on for a week, the forests that for many miles had skirted the river ultimately giving place to extensive jungles that stretched far away to the horizon. Destitute, fortunately for the travellers, of human inhabitants, the district abounded in a large variety of animal life; zebras, elands, caamas, sported on the bank, disappearing at night-fall before howling leopards and roaring lions. It was Dick's general custom, as he lay to for a while in the afternoon, to go ashore in search of food, and as the manioc, maize, and sorghum that were to be found were of a wild growth and consequently not fit for consumption, he was obliged to run the risk of using his gun. On the 4th of July he succeeded by a single shot in killing , a kind of antelope about five feet long, with annulated horns, a tawny skin dappled with bright spots, and a white belly. The venison proved excellent, and was roasted over a fire procured by the primitive method, practised, it is said, even by gorillas, of rubbing two sticks together. pokoo In spite of these halts, and the time taken for the night's rest, the distance accomplished by the 8th could not be estimated at less than a hundred miles. The river, augmented by only a few insignificant tributaries, had not materially increased in volume; its direction, however, had slightly changed more to the north-west. It afforded a very fair supply of fish, which were caught by lines made of the long stems of creepers furnished with thorns instead [Illustration: He stood face to face with his foe.] of fish-hooks, a considerable proportion being the delicate , which when dried may be transported to any climate; besides these there were the black , the wide-headed , and occasionally the little , resembling Thames whitebait. sandjtkas usakas monndÃ©s dagalas Next day, Dick met with an adventure that put all his courage and composure to the test. He had noticed the horns of a caama projecting above the brushwood, and went ashore alone with the intention of securing it. He succeeded in getting tolerably close to it and fired, but he was terribly startled when a formidable creature bounded along some thirty paces ahead, and took possession of the prey he had just wounded. It was a majestic lion, at least five feet in height, of the kind called , in distinction to the maneless species known as the . Before Dick had time to reload, the huge brute had caught sight of him, and without relaxing its hold upon the writhing antelope beneath its claws, glared upon him fiercely. Dick's presence of mind did not forsake him; flight he knew was not to be thought of; his only chance he felt intuitively would be by keeping perfectly still; and aware that the beast would be unlikely to give up a struggling prey for another that was motionless, he stood face to face with his foe, not venturing to move an eyelid. In a few minutes the lion's patience seemed to be exhausted; with a grand stateliness, it picked up the caama as easily as a dog would lift a hare, turned round, and lashing the bushes with its tail, disappeared in the jungle. kÃ¡ramoo Nyassi-lion It took Dick some little time to recover himself sufficiently to return to the canoe. On arriving, he said nothing of the peril to which he had been exposed, but heartily congratulated himself that they had means of transport without making their way through jungles and forests. As they advanced, they repeatedly came across evidences that the country had not been always, as now it was, utterly devoid oi population; more than once, they observed traces which betokened the former existence of villages; either some ruined palisades or the of some thatched huts, or some solitary sacred tree within an enclosure would indicate that the death of a chief had, according to custom, made a native tribe migrate to new quarters. dÃ©bris If natives were still dwelling in the district, as was just probable, they must have been living underground, only emerging at night like beasts of prey, from which they were only a grade removed. Dick Sands had every reason to feel convinced that cannibalism had been practised in the neighbourhood, Three times, as he was wandering in the forest, he had come upon piles of ashes and half-charred human bones, the remnants, no doubt, of a ghastly meal, and although he mentioned nothing of what he had seen to Mrs. Weldon, he made up his mind to go ashore as seldom as possible, and as often as he found it absolutely necessary to go, he gave Hercules strict directions to push off into mid-stream at the very first intimation of danger. A new cause of anxiety arose on the following evening, and made it necessary for them to take the most guarded measures of precaution. The river-bed had widened out into a kind of lagoon, and on the right side of this, built upon piles in the water, not only was there a collection of about thirty huts, but the fires gleaming under the thatch, made it evident that they were all inhabited. Unfortunately the only channel of the stream flowed close under the huts, the river elsewhere being so obstructed with rocks that navigation of any kind was impossible. Nothing was more probable than that the natives would have set their nets all across the piles, and if so, the canoe would be sure to be obstructed, and an alarm must inevitably be raised. Every caution seemed to be unavailing, because the canoe must follow the stream; however, in the lowest of whispers Dick ordered Hercules to keep clear as much as he could of the worm-eaten timber. The night was not very dark, which was equally an advantage and a disadvantage, as while it permitted those on board to steer as they wanted, it did not prevent them from being seen. The situation became more and more critical. About a hundred feet ahead, the channel was very contracted; two natives, gesticulating violently, were seen squatting on the pilework; a few moments more and their voices could be heard; it was obvious that they had seen the floating mass; apprehending that it was going to destroy their nets, they yelled aloud and shouted for assistance; instantly five or six negroes scrambled down the piles, and perched themselves upon the cross-beams. On board the canoe the profoundest silence was maintained. Dick only signalled his directions to Hercules, without uttering a word, while Jack performed his part by holding Dingo's mouth tightly closed, to stop the low growlings which the faithful watch-dog seemed resolved to make; but fortunately every sound was overpowered by the rushing of the stream and the clamour of the negroes, as they hurriedly drew in their nets. If they should raise them in time, all might be well, but if, on the other hand, the canoe should get entangled, the consequences could hardly fail to be disastrous. The current in its narrow channel was so strong that Dick was powerless either to modify his course or to slacken it. Half a minute more, and the canoe was right under the woodwork, but the efforts of the natives had already elevated the nets so that the anticipated danger was happily escaped; but it chanced that in making its way through the obstacle, a large piece of the grass-thatch got detached. One of the negroes raised a sudden shout of alarm, and it seemed only too probable that he had caught a sight of the travellers below and was informing his companions. This apprehension, too, was only momentary; the current had changed almost to a rapid, and carried the canoe along with such velocity that the lacustrine village was quickly out of sight. "Steer to the left!" cried Dick, finding that the riverbed had again become clear. A stiff pull at the tiller made the craft fly in that direction. Dick went to the stern, and scanned the moonlit waters. All was perfectly still, no canoe was in pursuit; perhaps the natives had not one to use; but certain it was that [Illustration: Instantly five or six negroes scrambled down the piles.] when daylight dawned no vestige of an inhabitant was to be seen. Nevertheless Dick thought it prudent for a while to steer close under the shelter of the left-hand shore. By the end of the next four days the aspect of the country had undergone a remarkable change, the jungle having given place to a desert as dreary as the Kalahari itself. The river appeared interminable, and it became a matter of serious consideration how to get a sufficiency of food. Fish was scarce, or at least hard to catch, and the arid soil provided no means of sustenance for antelopes, so that nothing was to be gained from the chase. Carnivorous animals also had quite disappeared, and the silence of the night was broken, not by the roar of wild beasts, but by the croaking of frogs in a discordant chorus, which Cameron has compared to the clanking of hammers and the grating of files in a ship-builder's yard. Far away both to the east and west the outlines of hills could be faintly discerned, but the shores on either hand were perfectly flat and devoid of trees. Euphorbias, it is true, grew in considerable numbers, but as they were only of the oil-producing species, and not the kind from which cassava or manioc is procured, they were useless in an alimentary point of view. Dick was becoming more and more perplexed, when Hercules happened to mention that the natives often eat young fern-fronds and the pith of the papyrus, and that before now he had himself been reduced to the necessity of subsisting on nothing better. "We must try them," said Dick. Both ferns and papyrus abounded on the banks, and a meal was prepared, the sweet soft pith of the papyrus being found very palatable. Jack in particular appeared to enjoy it extremely, but it was not in any way a satisfying diet. Thanks to Cousin Benedict, a fresh variety in the matter of food was found on the following day. Since the discovery of the "Hexapodes Benedictus" he had recovered his spirits, and, having fastened his prize safely inside his hat, he wandered about, as often as he had a chance, in his favourite pursuit of insect-hunting. As he was rummaging in the long grass, he put up a bird which flew but a very short distance. Benedict recognized it by its peculiar note, and, seeing Dick take his gun to aim at it, exclaimed,- "Don't fire, don't fire! that bird will be worth nothing for food among five of us." "It will be dinner enough for Jack," said Dick, who, finding that the bird did not seem in a hurry to make its escape, delayed his shot for a moment, without intending to be diverted from his purpose of securing it. "You mustn't fire," insisted Benedict, "it is an indicator; it will show you where there are lots of honey." Aware that a few pounds of honey would really be of more value than a little bird, Dick lowered his gun, and in company with the entomologist set off to follow the indicator, which seemed, by alternately flying and stopping, to be inviting them to come on, and they had but a little way to go before they observed several swarms of bees buzzing around some old stems hidden amongst the euphorbias. Notwithstanding Benedict's remonstrances against depriving the bees of the fruits of their industry, Dick instantly set to work, and without remorse suffocated them by burning dry grass underneath. Having secured a good amount of honey, he left the comb to the indicator as its share of the booty, and went back with his companion to the canoe. The honey was acceptable, but it did not do much to alleviate the cravings of hunger. Next day it happened that they had just stopped for their accustomed rest, when they observed that an enormous swarm of grasshoppers had settled at the mouth of a creek close by. Two or three deep they covered the soil, myriads and myriads of them adhering to every shrub. "The natives eat those grasshoppers," said Benedict, "and like them too." The remark produced an instant effect; all hands were busied in collecting them, and a large supply was quickly gathered: the canoe might have been filled ten times over. Grilled over a slow fire, they were found to be very palatable eating, and, spite of his qualms of conscience, Benedict himself made a hearty meal. But although the gnawings of absolute hunger were thus assuaged, all the travellers began to long most anxiously for the voyage to come to an end. The mode of transit indeed might be less exhausting to the bodily powers than a land march would have been, but the excessive heat by day, the damp mists at night, and the incessant attacks of mosquitoes, all combined to render the passage extremely trying. There was no telling how long it would last, and Dick was equally uncertain whether it might end in a few days, or be protracted for a month. The direction which the stream was taking was itself a subject of perplexity. A fresh surprise was now in store. As Jack, a few mornings afterwards, was standing at the bow peering through an aperture in the grass canopy above him, he suddenly turned round and cried,- "The sea! the sea!" Dick started forwards, and looked eagerly in the same direction. A large expanse of water was visible in the horizon, but after having surveyed it for a moment or two, he said,- "No, Jack, it is not the sea, it is a great river; it is running west, and I suppose this river runs into it. Perhaps it is the Zaire." "Let us hope it is," said Mrs. Weldon earnestly. Most cordially did Dick Sands re-echo her words, being well aware that at the mouth of that river were Portuguese villages, where a refuge might assuredly be found. For several succeeding days the canoe, still concealed by its covering, floated on the silvery surface of this new-found stream. On either side the banks became less arid, and there seemed everything to encourage the few survivors of the "Pilgrim" to believe that they would soon see the last of the perils and toils of their journey. They were too sanguine. Towards three o'clock on the morning of the 18th, Dick, who was at his usual post at the bow, fancied he heard a dull rumbling towards the west. Mrs. Weldon, Jack, and Benedict were all asleep. Calling Hercules to him, he asked him whether he could not hear a strange noise. The night was perfectly calm, and not a breath of air was stirring. The negro listened attentively, and suddenly, his eyes sparkling with delight, exclaimed,- "Yes, captain, I hear the sea!" Dick shook his head and answered,- "It is not the sea, Hercules." "Not the sea!" cried the negro, "then what can it be?" "We must wait till daybreak," replied Dick, "and meanwhile we shall have to keep a sharp look-out." Hercules returned to his place, but only to continue listening with ever-increasing curiosity. The rumbling perceptibly increased till it became a continued roar. With scarcely any intervening twilight night passed into day. Just in front, scarcely more than half a mile ahead, a great mist was hanging over the river; it was not an ordinary fog, and when the sun rose, the light of the dawn caused a brilliant rainbow to arch itself from shore to shore. In a voice so loud that it awoke Mrs. Weldon, Dick gave his order to Hercules to steer for the bank:- "Quick, quick, Hercules! ashore! ashore! there are cataracts close ahead!" And so it was. Within little more than a quarter of a mile the bed of the river sank abruptly some hundred feet, and the foaming waters rushed down in a magnificent fall with irresistible velocity. A few minutes more and the canoe must have been swallowed in the deep abyss. 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 (2005). Dick sands, the boy Captain. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3250.html.images 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

AN ANXIOUS VOYAGE

After a voyage of seventy-four days, the "Pilgrim" had stranded

Five Weeks in a Balloon by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Chapter VIII here CHAPTER VIII Joe’s Importance.—The Commander of the Resolute.—Kennedy’s Arsenal.—Mutual Amenities.—The Farewell Dinner.—Departure on the 21st of February.—The Doctor’s Scientific Sessions.—Duveyrier.—Livingstone.—Details of the Aerial Voyage.—Kennedy silenced. About the 10th of February, the preparations were pretty well completed; and the balloons, firmly secured, one within the other, were altogether finished. They had been subjected to a powerful pneumatic pressure in all parts, and the test gave excellent evidence of their solidity and of the care applied in their construction. Joe hardly knew what he was about, with delight. He trotted incessantly to and fro between his home in Greek Street, and the Mitchell establishment, always full of business, but always in the highest spirits, giving details of the affair to people who did not even ask him, so proud was he, above all things, of being permitted to accompany his master. I have even a shrewd suspicion that what with showing the balloon, explaining the plans and views of the doctor, giving folks a glimpse of the latter, through a half-opened window, or pointing him out as he passed along the streets, the clever scamp earned a few half-crowns, but we must not find fault with him for that. He had as much right as anybody else to speculate upon the admiration and curiosity of his contemporaries. On the 16th of February, the cast anchor near Greenwich. She was a screw propeller of eight hundred tons, a fast sailer, and the very vessel that had been sent out to the polar regions, to revictual the last expedition of Sir James Ross. Her commander, Captain Bennet, had the name of being a very amiable person, and he took a particular interest in the doctor’s expedition, having been one of that gentleman’s admirers for a long time. Bennet was rather a man of science than a man of war, which did not, however, prevent his vessel from carrying four carronades, that had never hurt any body, to be sure, but had performed the most pacific duty in the world. Resolute The hold of the was so arranged as to find a stowing-place for the balloon. The latter was shipped with the greatest precaution on the 18th of February, and was then carefully deposited at the bottom of the vessel in such a way as to prevent accident. The car and its accessories, the anchors, the cords, the supplies, the water-tanks, which were to be filled on arriving, all were embarked and put away under Ferguson’s own eyes. Resolute Ten tons of sulphuric acid and ten tons of iron filings, were put on board for the future production of the hydrogen gas. The quantity was more than enough, but it was well to be provided against accident. The apparatus to be employed in manufacturing the gas, including some thirty empty casks, was also stowed away in the hold. These various preparations were terminated on the 18th of February, in the evening. Two state-rooms, comfortably fitted up, were ready for the reception of Dr. Ferguson and his friend Kennedy. The latter, all the while swearing that he would not go, went on board with a regular arsenal of hunting weapons, among which were two double-barrelled breech-loading fowling-pieces, and a rifle that had withstood every test, of the make of Purdey, Moore & Dickson, at Edinburgh. With such a weapon a marksman would find no difficulty in lodging a bullet in the eye of a chamois at the distance of two thousand paces. Along with these implements, he had two of Colt’s six-shooters, for unforeseen emergencies. His powder-case, his cartridge-pouch, his lead, and his bullets, did not exceed a certain weight prescribed by the doctor. The three travellers got themselves to rights on board during the working-hours of February 19th. They were received with much distinction by the captain and his officers, the doctor continuing as reserved as ever, and thinking of nothing but his expedition. Dick seemed a good deal moved, but was unwilling to betray it; while Joe was fairly dancing and breaking out in laughable remarks. The worthy fellow soon became the jester and merry-andrew of the boatswain’s mess, where a berth had been kept for him. On the 20th, a grand farewell dinner was given to Dr. Ferguson and Kennedy by the Royal Geographical Society. Commander Bennet and his officers were present at the entertainment, which was signalized by copious libations and numerous toasts. Healths were drunk, in sufficient abundance to guarantee all the guests a lifetime of centuries. Sir Francis M——presided, with restrained but dignified feeling. To his own supreme confusion, Dick Kennedy came in for a large share in the jovial felicitations of the night. After having drunk to the “intrepid Ferguson, the glory of England,” they had to drink to “the no less courageous Kennedy, his daring companion.” Dick blushed a good deal, and that passed for modesty; whereupon the applause redoubled, and Dick blushed again. A message from the Queen arrived while they were at dessert. Her Majesty offered her compliments to the two travellers, and expressed her wishes for their safe and successful journey. This, of course, rendered imperative fresh toasts to “Her most gracious Majesty.” At midnight, after touching farewells and warm shaking of hands, the guests separated. The boats of the were in waiting at the stairs of Westminster Bridge. The captain leaped in, accompanied by his officers and passengers, and the rapid current of the Thames, aiding the strong arms of the rowers, bore them swiftly to Greenwich. In an hour’s time all were asleep on board. Resolute The next morning, February 21st, at three o’clock, the furnaces began to roar; at five, the anchors were weighed, and the , powerfully driven by her screw, began to plough the water toward the mouth of the Thames. Resolute It is needless to say that the topic of conversation with every one on board was Dr. Ferguson’s enterprise. Seeing and hearing the doctor soon inspired everybody with such confidence that, in a very short time, there was no one, excepting the incredulous Scotchman, on the steamer who had the least doubt of the perfect feasibility and success of the expedition. During the long, unoccupied hours of the voyage, the doctor held regular sittings, with lectures on geographical science, in the officers’ mess-room. These young men felt an intense interest in the discoveries made during the last forty years in Africa; and the doctor related to them the explorations of Barth, Burton, Speke, and Grant, and depicted the wonders of this vast, mysterious country, now thrown open on all sides to the investigations of science. On the north, the young Duveyrier was exploring Sahara, and bringing the chiefs of the Touaregs to Paris. Under the inspiration of the French Government, two expeditions were preparing, which, descending from the north, and coming from the west, would cross each other at Timbuctoo. In the south, the indefatigable Livingstone was still advancing toward the equator; and, since March, 1862, he had, in company with Mackenzie, ascended the river Rovoonia. The nineteenth century would, assuredly, not pass, contended the doctor, without Africa having been compelled to surrender the secrets she has kept locked up in her bosom for six thousand years. But the interest of Dr. Ferguson’s hearers was excited to the highest pitch when he made known to them, in detail, the preparations for his own journey. They took pleasure in verifying his calculations; they discussed them; and the doctor frankly took part in the discussion. As a general thing, they were surprised at the limited quantity of provision that he took with him; and one day one of the officers questioned him on that subject. “That peculiar point astonishes you, does it?” said Ferguson. “It does, indeed.” “But how long do you think my trip is going to last? Whole months? If so, you are greatly mistaken. Were it to be a long one, we should be lost; we should never get back. But you must know that the distance from Zanzibar to the coast of Senegal is only thirty-five hundred—say four thousand miles. Well, at the rate of two hundred and forty miles every twelve hours, which does not come near the rapidity of our railroad trains, by travelling day and night, it would take only seven days to cross Africa!” “But then you could see nothing, make no geographical observations, or reconnoitre the face of the country.” “Ah!” replied the doctor, “if I am master of my balloon—if I can ascend and descend at will, I shall stop when I please, especially when too violent currents of air threaten to carry me out of my way with them.” “And you will encounter such,” said Captain Bennet. “There are tornadoes that sweep at the rate of more than two hundred and forty miles per hour.” “You see, then, that with such speed as that, we could cross Africa in twelve hours. One would rise at Zanzibar, and go to bed at St. Louis!” “But,” rejoined the officer, “could any balloon withstand the wear and tear of such velocity?” “It has happened before,” replied Ferguson. “And the balloon withstood it?” “Perfectly well. It was at the time of the coronation of Napoleon, in 1804. The aëronaut, Gernerin, sent up a balloon at Paris, about eleven o’clock in the evening. It bore the following inscription, in letters of gold: ‘Paris, 25 Frimaire; year XIII; Coronation of the Emperor Napoleon by his Holiness, Pius VII.’ On the next morning, the inhabitants of Rome saw the same balloon soaring above the Vatican, whence it crossed the Campagna, and finally fluttered down into the lake of Bracciano. So you see, gentlemen, that a balloon can resist such velocities.” “A balloon—that might be; but a man?” insinuated Kennedy. “Yes, a man, too!—for the balloon is always motionless with reference to the air that surrounds it. What moves is the mass of the atmosphere itself: for instance, one may light a taper in the car, and the flame will not even waver. An aëronaut in Garnerin’s balloon would not have suffered in the least from the speed. But then I have no occasion to attempt such velocity; and if I can anchor to some tree, or some favorable inequality of the ground, at night, I shall not fail to do so. Besides, we take provision for two months with us, after all; and there is nothing to prevent our skilful huntsman here from furnishing game in abundance when we come to alight.” “Ah! Mr. Kennedy,” said a young midshipman, with envious eyes, “what splendid shots you’ll have!” “Without counting,” said another, “that you’ll have the glory as well as the sport!” “Gentlemen,” replied the hunter, stammering with confusion, “I greatly—appreciate—your compliments—but they—don’t—belong to me.” “You!” exclaimed every body, “don’t you intend to go?” “I am not going!” “You won’t accompany Dr. Ferguson?” “Not only shall I not accompany him, but I am here so as to be present at the last moment to prevent his going.” Every eye was now turned to the doctor. “Never mind him!” said the latter, calmly. “This is a matter that we can’t argue with him. At heart he knows perfectly well that he going.” is “By Saint Andrew!” said Kennedy, “I swear—” “Swear to nothing, friend Dick; you have been ganged and weighed—you and your powder, your guns, and your bullets; so don’t let us say anything more about it.” And, in fact, from that day until the arrival at Zanzibar, Dick never opened his mouth. He talked neither about that nor about anything else. He kept absolutely silent. 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 (2002). Five Weeks in a Balloon. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/3526/pg3526-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

Details of the Aerial Voyage.—Kennedy silenced

The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Chapter I here Chapter I It was now exactly seven months since the balloon voyagers had been thrown on Lincoln Island. During that time, notwithstanding the researches they had made, no human being had been discovered. No smoke even had betrayed the presence of man on the surface of the island. No vestiges of his handiwork showed that either at an early or at a late period had man lived there. Not only did it now appear to be uninhabited by any but themselves, but the colonists were compelled to believe that it never had been inhabited. And now, all this scaffolding of reasonings fell before a simple ball of metal, found in the body of an inoffensive rodent! In fact, this bullet must have issued from a firearm, and who but a human being could have used such a weapon? When Pencroft had placed the bullet on the table, his companions looked at it with intense astonishment. All the consequences likely to result from this incident, notwithstanding its apparent insignificance, immediately took possession of their minds. The sudden apparition of a supernatural being could not have startled them more completely. Cyrus Harding did not hesitate to give utterance to the suggestions which this fact, at once surprising and unexpected, could not fail to raise in his mind. He took the bullet, turned it over and over, rolled it between his finger and thumb; then, turning to Pencroft, he asked,— “Are you sure that the peccary wounded by this bullet was not more than three months old?” “Not more, captain,” replied Pencroft. “It was still sucking its mother when I found it in the trap.” “Well,” said the engineer, “that proves that within three months a gun-shot was fired in Lincoln Island.” “And that a bullet,” added Gideon Spilett, “wounded, though not mortally, this little animal.” “That is unquestionable,” said Cyrus Harding, “and these are the deductions which must be drawn from this incident: that the island was inhabited before our arrival, or that men have landed here within three months. Did these men arrive here voluntarily or involuntarily, by disembarking on the shore or by being wrecked? This point can only be cleared up later. As to what they were, Europeans or Malays, enemies or friends of our race, we cannot possibly guess; and if they still inhabit the island, or if they have left it, we know not. But these questions are of too much importance to be allowed to remain long unsettled.” “No! a hundred times no! a thousand times no!” cried the sailor, springing up from the table. “There are no other men than ourselves on Lincoln Island! By my faith! The island isn’t large and if it had been inhabited, we should have seen some of the inhabitants long before this!” “In fact, the contrary would be very astonishing,” said Herbert. “But it would be much more astonishing, I should think,” observed the reporter, “if this peccary had been born with a bullet in its inside!” “At least,” said Neb seriously, “if Pencroft has not had—” “Look here, Neb,” burst out Pencroft. “Do you think I could have a bullet in my jaw for five or six months without finding it out? Where could it be hidden?” he asked, opening his mouth to show the two-and-thirty teeth with which it was furnished. “Look well, Neb, and if you find one hollow tooth in this set, I will let you pull out half a dozen!” “Neb’s supposition is certainly inadmissible,” replied Harding, who, notwithstanding the gravity of his thoughts, could not restrain a smile. “It is certain that a gun has been fired in the island, within three months at most. But I am inclined to think that the people who landed on this coast were only here a very short time ago, or that they just touched here; for if, when we surveyed the island from the summit of Mount Franklin, it had been inhabited, we should have seen them or we should have been seen ourselves. It is therefore, probable that within only a few weeks castaways have been thrown by a storm on some part of the coast. However that may be, it is of consequence to us to have this point settled.” “I think that we should act with caution,” said the reporter. “Such is my advice,” replied Cyrus Harding, “for it is to be feared that Malay pirates have landed on the island!” “Captain,” asked the sailor, “would it not be a good plan, before setting out, to build a canoe in which we could either ascend the river, or, if we liked, coast round the inland? It will not do to be unprovided.” “Your idea is good, Pencroft,” replied the engineer, “but we cannot wait for that. It would take at least a month to build a boat.” “Yes, a real boat,” replied the sailor; “but we do not want one for a sea voyage, and in five days at the most, I will undertake to construct a canoe fit to navigate the Mercy.” “Five days,” cried Neb, “to build a boat?” “Yes, Neb; a boat in the Indian fashion.” “Of wood?” asked the Negro, looking still unconvinced. “Of wood,” replied Pencroft, “or rather of bark. I repeat, captain, that in five days the work will be finished!” “In five days, then, be it,” replied the engineer. “But till that time we must be very watchful,” said Herbert. “Very watchful indeed, my friends,” replied Harding; “and I beg you to confine your hunting excursions to the neighborhood of Granite House.” The dinner ended less gaily than Pencroft had hoped. So, then, the island was, or had been, inhabited by others than the settlers. Proved as it was by the incident of the bullet, it was hereafter an unquestionable fact, and such a discovery could not but cause great uneasiness among the colonists. Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett, before sleeping, conversed long about the matter. They asked themselves if by chance this incident might not have some connection with the inexplicable way in which the engineer had been saved, and the other peculiar circumstances which had struck them at different times. However, Cyrus Harding, after having discussed the pros and cons of the question, ended by saying,— “In short, would you like to know my opinion, my dear Spilett?” “Yes, Cyrus.” “Well, then, it is this: however minutely we explore the island, we shall find nothing.” The next day Pencroft set to work. He did not mean to build a boat with boards and planking, but simply a flat-bottomed canoe, which would be well suited for navigating the Mercy—above all, for approaching its source, where the water would naturally be shallow. Pieces of bark, fastened one to the other, would form a light boat; and in case of natural obstacles, which would render a portage necessary, it would be easily carried. Pencroft intended to secure the pieces of bark by means of nails, to insure the canoe being water-tight. It was first necessary to select the trees which would afford a strong and supple bark for the work. Now the last storm had brought down a number of large birch-trees, the bark of which would be perfectly suited for their purpose. Some of these trees lay on the ground, and they had only to be barked, which was the most difficult thing of all, owing to the imperfect tools which the settlers possessed. However, they overcame all difficulties. While the sailor, seconded by the engineer, thus occupied himself without losing an hour, Gideon Spilett and Herbert were not idle. They were made purveyors to the colony. The reporter could not but admire the boy, who had acquired great skill in handling the bow and spear. Herbert also showed great courage and much of that presence of mind which may justly be called “the reasoning of bravery.” These two companions of the chase, remembering Cyrus Harding’s recommendations, did not go beyond a radius of two miles round Granite House; but the borders of the forest furnished a sufficient tribute of agoutis, capybaras, kangaroos, peccaries, etc.; and if the result from the traps was less than during the cold, still the warren yielded its accustomed quota, which might have fed all the colony in Lincoln Island. Often during these excursions, Herbert talked with Gideon Spilett on the incident of the bullet, and the deductions which the engineer drew from it, and one day—it was the 26th of October—he said—“But, Mr. Spilett, do you not think it very extraordinary that, if any castaways have landed on the island, they have not yet shown themselves near Granite House?” “Very astonishing if they are still here,” replied the reporter, “but not astonishing at all if they are here no longer!” “So you think that these people have already quitted the island?” returned Herbert. “It is more than probable, my boy; for if their stay was prolonged, and above all, if they were still here, some accident would have at last betrayed their presence.” “But if they were able to go away,” observed the lad, “they could not have been castaways.” “No, Herbert; or, at least, they were what might be called provisional castaways. It is very possible that a storm may have driven them to the island without destroying their vessel, and that, the storm over, they went away again.” “I must acknowledge one thing,” said Herbert, “it is that Captain Harding appears rather to fear than desire the presence of human beings on our island.” “In short,” responded the reporter, “there are only Malays who frequent these seas, and those fellows are ruffians which it is best to avoid.” “It is not impossible, Mr. Spilett,” said Herbert, “that some day or other we may find traces of their landing.” “I do not say no, my boy. A deserted camp, the ashes of a fire, would put us on the track, and this is what we will look for in our next expedition.” The day on which the hunters spoke thus, they were in a part of the forest near the Mercy, remarkable for its beautiful trees. There, among others, rose, to a height of nearly 200 feet above the ground, some of those superb coniferae, to which, in New Zealand, the natives give the name of Kauris. “I have an idea, Mr. Spilett,” said Herbert. “If I were to climb to the top of one of these kauris, I could survey the country for an immense distance round.” “The idea is good,” replied the reporter; “but could you climb to the top of those giants?” “I can at least try,” replied Herbert. The light and active boy then sprang on the first branches, the arrangement of which made the ascent of the kauri easy, and in a few minutes he arrived at the summit, which emerged from the immense plain of verdure. From this elevated situation his gaze extended over all the southern portion of the island, from Claw Cape on the southeast, to Reptile End on the southwest. To the northwest rose Mount Franklin, which concealed a great part of the horizon. But Herbert, from the height of his observatory, could examine all the yet unknown portion of the island, which might have given shelter to the strangers whose presence they suspected. The lad looked attentively. There was nothing in sight on the sea, not a sail, neither on the horizon nor near the island. However, as the bank of trees hid the shore, it was possible that a vessel, especially if deprived of her masts, might lie close to the land and thus be invisible to Herbert. Neither in the forests of the Far West was anything to be seen. The wood formed an impenetrable screen, measuring several square miles, without a break or an opening. It was impossible even to follow the course of the Mercy, or to ascertain in what part of the mountain it took its source. Perhaps other creeks also ran towards the west, but they could not be seen. But at last, if all indication of an encampment escaped Herbert’s sight could he not even catch a glimpse of smoke, the faintest trace of which would be easily discernible in the pure atmosphere? For an instant Herbert thought he could perceive a slight smoke in the west, but a more attentive examination showed that he was mistaken. He strained his eyes in every direction, and his sight was excellent. No, decidedly there was nothing there. Herbert descended to the foot of the kauri, and the two sportsmen returned to Granite House. There Cyrus Harding listened to the lad’s account, shook his head and said nothing. It was very evident that no decided opinion could be pronounced on this question until after a complete exploration of the island. Two days after—the 28th of October—another incident occurred, for which an explanation was again required. While strolling along the shore about two miles from Granite House, Herbert and Neb were fortunate enough to capture a magnificent specimen of the order of chelonia. It was a turtle of the species Midas, the edible green turtle, so called from the color both of its shell and fat. Herbert caught sight of this turtle as it was crawling among the rocks to reach the sea. “Help, Neb, help!” he cried. Neb ran up. “What a fine animal!” said Neb; “but how are we to catch it?” “Nothing is easier, Neb,” replied Herbert. “We have only to turn the turtle on its back, and it cannot possibly get away. Take your spear and do as I do.” The reptile, aware of danger, had retired between its carapace and plastron. They no longer saw its head or feet, and it was motionless as a rock. Herbert and Neb then drove their sticks underneath the animal, and by their united efforts managed without difficulty to turn it on its back. The turtle, which was three feet in length, would have weighed at least four hundred pounds. “Capital!” cried Neb; “this is something which will rejoice friend Pencroft’s heart.” In fact, the heart of friend Pencroft could not fail to be rejoiced, for the flesh of the turtle, which feeds on wrack-grass, is extremely savory. At this moment the creature’s head could be seen, which was small, flat, but widened behind by the large temporal fossae hidden under the long roof. “And now, what shall we do with our prize?” said Neb. “We can’t drag it to Granite House!” “Leave it here, since it cannot turn over,” replied Herbert, “and we will come back with the cart to fetch it.” “That is the best plan.” However, for greater precaution, Herbert took the trouble, which Neb deemed superfluous, to wedge up the animal with great stones; after which the two hunters returned to Granite House, following the beach, which the tide had left uncovered. Herbert, wishing to surprise Pencroft, said nothing about the “superb specimen of a chelonian” which they had turned over on the sand; but, two hours later, he and Neb returned with the cart to the place where they had left it. The “superb specimen of a chelonian” was no longer there! Neb and Herbert stared at each other first; then they stared about them. It was just at this spot that the turtle had been left. The lad even found the stones which he had used, and therefore he was certain of not being mistaken. “Well!” said Neb, “these beasts can turn themselves over, then?’’ “It appears so,” replied Herbert, who could not understand it at all, and was gazing at the stones scattered on the sand. “Well, Pencroft will be disgusted!” “And Captain Harding will perhaps be very perplexed how to explain this disappearance,” thought Herbert. “Look here,” said Neb, who wished to hide his ill-luck, “we won’t speak about it.” “On the contrary, Neb, we must speak about it,” replied Herbert. And the two, taking the cart, which there was now no use for, returned to Granite House. Arrived at the dockyard, where the engineer and the sailor were working together, Herbert recounted what had happened. “Oh! the stupids!” cried the sailor, “to have let at least fifty meals escape!” “But, Pencroft,” replied Neb, “it wasn’t our fault that the beast got away; as I tell you, we had turned it over on its back!” “Then you didn’t turn it over enough!” returned the obstinate sailor. “Not enough!” cried Herbert. And he told how he had taken care to wedge up the turtle with stones. “It is a miracle, then!” replied Pencroft. “I thought, captain,” said Herbert, “that turtles, once placed on their backs, could not regain their feet, especially when they are of a large size?’ “That is true, my boy,” replied Cyrus Harding. “Then how did it manage?” “At what distance from the sea did you leave this turtle?” asked the engineer, who, having suspended his work, was reflecting on this incident. “Fifteen feet at the most,” replied Herbert. “And the tide was low at the time?” “Yes, captain.” “Well,” replied the engineer, “what the turtle could not do on the sand it might have been able to do in the water. It turned over when the tide overtook it, and then quietly returned to the deep sea.” “Oh! what stupids we were!” cried Neb. “That is precisely what I had the honor of telling you before!” returned the sailor. Cyrus Harding had given this explanation, which, no doubt, was admissible. But was he himself convinced of the accuracy of this explanation? It cannot be said that he was. 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

It was now exactly seven months since the balloon voyagers

A Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . A VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY here CHAPTER XXXIV - A VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY It would be altogether impossible for me to give any idea of the utter astonishment which overcame the Professor on making this extraordinary discovery. Amazement, incredulity, and rage were blended in such a way as to alarm me. During the whole course of my Life I had never seen a man at first so chapfallen; and then so furiously indignant. The terrible fatigues of our sea voyage, the fearful dangers we had passed through, had all, all, gone for nothing. We had to begin them all over again. Instead of progressing, as we fondly expected, during a voyage of so many days, we had retreated. Every hour of our expedition on the raft had been so much lost time! Presently, however, the indomitable energy of my uncle overcame every other consideration. "So," he said, between his set teeth, "fatality will play me these terrible tricks. The elements themselves conspire to overwhelm me with mortification. Air, fire, and water combine their united efforts to oppose my passage. Well, they shall see what the earnest will of a determined man can do. I will not yield, I will not retreat even one inch; and we shall see who shall triumph in this great contest—man or nature." Standing upright on a rock, irritated and menacing, Professor Hardwigg, like the ferocious Ajax, seemed to defy the fates. I, however, took upon myself to interfere, and to impose some sort of check upon such insensate enthusiasm. "Listen to me, Uncle," I said, in a firm but temperate tone of voice, "there must be some limit to ambition here below. It is utterly useless to struggle against the impossible. Pray listen to reason. We are utterly unprepared for a sea voyage; it is simply madness to think of performing a journey of five hundred leagues upon a wretched pile of beams, with a counterpane for a sail, a paltry stick for a mast, and a tempest to contend with. As we are totally incapable of steering our frail craft, we shall become the mere plaything of the storm, and it is acting the part of madmen if we, a second time, run any risk upon this dangerous and treacherous Central Sea." These are only a few of the reasons and arguments I put together—reasons and arguments which to me appeared unanswerable. I was allowed to go on without interruption for about ten minutes. The explanation to this I soon discovered. The Professor was not even listening, and did not hear a word of all my eloquence. "To the raft!" he cried in a hoarse voice, when I paused for a reply. Such was the result of my strenuous effort to resist his iron will. I tried again; I begged and implored him; I got into a passion; but I had to deal with a will more determined than my own. I seemed to feel like the waves which fought and battled against the huge mass of granite at our feet, which had smiled grimly for so many ages at their puny efforts. Hans, meanwhile, without taking part in our discussion, had been repairing the raft. One would have supposed that he instinctively guessed at the further projects of my uncle. By means of some fragments of cordage, he had again made the raft seaworthy. While I had been speaking, he had hoisted a new mast and sail, the latter already fluttering and waving in the breeze. The worthy Professor spoke a few words to our imperturbable guide, who immediately began to put our baggage on board and to prepare for our departure. The atmosphere was now tolerably clear and pure, and the northeast wind blew steadily and serenely. It appeared likely to last for some time. What, then, could I do? Could I undertake to resist the iron will of two men? It was simply impossible if even I could have hoped for the support of Hans. This, however, was out of the question. It appeared to me that the Icelander had set aside all personal will and identity. He was a picture of abnegation. I could hope for nothing from one so infatuated with and devoted to his master. All I could do, therefore, was to swim with the stream. In a mood of stolid and sullen resignation, I was about to take my accustomed place on the raft when my uncle placed his hand upon my shoulder. "There is no hurry, my boy," he said, "we shall not start until tomorrow." I looked the picture of resignation to the dire will of fate. "Under the circumstances," he said, "I ought to neglect no precautions. As fate has cast me upon these shores, I shall not leave without having completely examined them." In order to understand this remark, I must explain that though we had been driven back to the northern shore, we had landed at a very different spot from that which had been our starting point. Port Gretchen must, we calculated, be very much to the westward. Nothing, therefore, was more natural and reasonable than that we should reconnoiter this new shore upon which we had so unexpectedly landed. "Let us go on a journey of discovery," I cried. And leaving Hans to his important operation, we started on our expedition. The distance between the foreshore at high water and the foot of the rocks was considerable. It would take about half an hour's walking to get from one to the other. As we trudged along, our feet crushed innumerable shells of every shape and size—once the dwelling place of animals of every period of creation. I particularly noticed some enormous shells—carapaces (turtle and tortoise species) the diameter of which exceeded fifteen feet. They had in past ages belonged to those gigantic Glyptodons of the Pliocene period, of which the modern turtle is but a minute specimen. In addition, the whole soil was covered by a vast quantity of stony relics, having the appearance of flints worn by the action of the waves, and lying in successive layers one above the other. I came to the conclusion that in past ages the sea must have covered the whole district. Upon the scattered rocks, now lying far beyond its reach, the mighty waves of ages had left evident marks of their passage. On reflection, this appeared to me partially to explain the existence of this remarkable ocean, forty leagues below the surface of the earth's crust. According to my new, and perhaps fanciful, theory, this liquid mass must be gradually lost in the deep bowels of the earth. I had also no doubt that this mysterious sea was fed by infiltration of the ocean above, through imperceptible fissures. Nevertheless, it was impossible not to admit that these fissures must now be nearly choked up, for if not, the cavern, or rather the immense and stupendous reservoir, would have been completely filled in a short space of time. Perhaps even this water, having to contend against the accumulated subterraneous fires of the interior of the earth, had become partially vaporized. Hence the explanation of those heavy clouds suspended over our heads, and the superabundant display of that electricity which occasioned such terrible storms in this deep and cavernous sea. This lucid explanation of the phenomena we had witnessed appeared to me quite satisfactory. However great and mighty the marvels of nature may seem to us, they are always to be explained by physical reasons. Everything is subordinate to some great law of nature. It now appeared clear that we were walking upon a kind of sedimentary soil, formed like all the soils of that period, so frequent on the surface of the globe, by the subsidence of the waters. The Professor, who was now in his element, carefully examined every rocky fissure. Let him only find an opening and it directly became important to him to examine its depth. For a whole mile we followed the windings of the Central Sea, when suddenly an important change took place in the aspect of the soil. It seemed to have been rudely cast up, convulsionized, as it were, by a violent upheaving of the lower strata. In many places, hollows here and hillocks there attested great dislocations at some other period of the terrestrial mass. We advanced with great difficulty over the broken masses of granite mixed with flint, quartz, and alluvial deposits, when a large field, more even than a field, a plain of bones, appeared suddenly before our eyes! It looked like an immense cemetery, where generation after generation had mingled their mortal dust. Lofty barrows of early remains rose at intervals. They undulated away to the limits of the distant horizon and were lost in a thick and brown fog. On that spot, some three square miles in extent, was accumulated the whole history of animal life—scarcely one creature upon the comparatively modern soil of the upper and inhabited world had not there existed. Nevertheless, we were drawn forward by an all-absorbing and impatient curiosity. Our feet crushed with a dry and crackling sound the remains of those prehistoric fossils, for which the museums of great cities quarrel, even when they obtain only rare and curious morsels. A thousand such naturalists as Cuvier would not have sufficed to recompose the skeletons of the organic beings which lay in this magnificent osseous collection. I was utterly confounded. My uncle stood for some minutes with his arms raised on high towards the thick granite vault which served us for a sky. His mouth was wide open; his eyes sparkled wildly behind his spectacles (which he had fortunately saved), his head bobbed up and down and from side to side, while his whole attitude and mien expressed unbounded astonishment. He stood in the presence of an endless, wondrous, and inexhaustibly rich collection of antediluvian monsters, piled up for his own private and peculiar satisfaction. Fancy an enthusiastic lover of books carried suddenly into the very midst of the famous library of Alexandria burned by the sacrilegious Omar, and which some miracle had restored to its pristine splendor! Such was something of the state of mind in which Uncle Hardwigg was now placed. For some time he stood thus, literally aghast at the magnitude of his discovery. But it was even a greater excitement when, darting wildly over this mass of organic dust, he caught up a naked skull and addressed me in a quivering voice: "Harry, my boy—Harry—this is a human head!" "A human head, Uncle!" I said, no less amazed and stupefied than himself. "Yes, nephew. Ah! Mr. Milne-Edwards—ah! Mr. De Quatrefages—why are you not here where I am—I, Professor Hardwigg!" 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 (2006). A Journey to the Center of the Earth. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/18857/18857-h/18857-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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