The Mysterious Island - Jules Verne (beach read .txt) 📗

“I, also, think this lord will come back, and, probably, very soon. But where will he come to? Not here, but to Tabor Island.”

“That is as sure as that Lincoln Island is not on the maps,” said Herbert.

“Therefore, my friends,” replied Smith, “we must take the necessary precautions to have Ayrton’s and our presence on Lincoln Island advertised on Tabor Island.”

“Evidently,” said the reporter, “and nothing can be easier than to place in Captain Grant’s cabin a notice, giving the situation of our island.”

“It is, nevertheless, annoying,” rejoined the sailor, “that we forgot to do that on our first voyage to the place.”

“Why should we have done so?” replied Herbert. “We knew nothing about Ayrton at that time, and when we learned his history, the season was too far advanced to allow of our going back there.”

“Yes,” answered Smith, “it was too late then, and we had to postpone the voyage until spring.”

“But supposing the yacht comes in the meantime?” asked Pencroff.

“It is not likely,” replied the engineer, “as Lord Glenarvan would not choose the winter season to adventure into these distant seas. Either it has already been to the island, in the five months that Ayrton has been with us, or it will come later, and it will be time enough, in the first fine weather of October, to go to Tabor Island and leave a notice there.”

“It would, indeed, be unfortunate,” said Neb, “if the Duncan has been to and left these seas within a few months.”

“I hope that it is not so,” answered Smith, “and that Heaven has not deprived us of this last remaining chance.”

“I think,” observed the reporter, “that, at least, we will know what our chances are, when we have visited the island; for those Stockmen would, necessarily, leave some trace of their visit, had they been there.”

“Doubtless,” answered the engineer. “And, my friends, since we have this chance of rescue, let us wait patiently, and if we find it has been taken from us, we will see then what to do.”

“At any rate,” said Pencroff, “it is agreed that if we do leave the inland by some way or another, it will not be on account of ill-treatment!”

“No indeed, Pencroff,” replied the reporter, “it will be because we are far from everything which a man loves in this world, his family, his friends, his country!”

Everything having been thus arranged there was no longer any question of building a ship, and the colonists occupied themselves in preparing for their third winter in Granite House.

But they determined, before the bad weather set in, to make a voyage in the sloop around the island. The exploration of the coast had never been completed, and the colonists had only an imperfect idea of its western and northern portions from the mouth of Fall River to the Mandible Capes, and of the narrow bay between them.

Pencroff had proposed this excursion, and Smith had gladly agreed to it, as he wished to see for himself all that part of his domain.

The weather was still unsettled, but the barometer made no rapid changes, and they might expect fair days. So, in the first week of April, after a very low barometer, its rise was followed by a strong west wind, which lasted for five or six weeks; then the needle of the instrument became stationary at a high figure, and everything seemed propitious for the exploration.

The day of departure was set for the 16th, and the Good Luck, moored in Balloon Harbor, was provisioned for a long cruise.

Smith told Ayrton of the excursion, and proposed to him to take part in it; but as Ayrton preferred to remain on shore, it was decided that he should come to Granite House while his companions were absent. Jup was left to keep him company, and made no objection.

On the morning of the 16th all the colonists, including Top, went on board the Good Luck. The breeze blew fresh from the southwest, so that from Balloon Harbor they had to beat up against the wind in order to make Reptile End. The distance between these two points, following the coast, was twenty miles. As the wind was dead ahead, and they had had on starting but two hours of the ebb, it took all day to reach the promontory, and it was night before the point was doubled.

Pencroff proposed to the engineer that they should keep on slowly, sailing under a double-reef, but Smith preferred mooring some cable lengths from shore, in order to survey this part of the coast by daylight.

And it was agreed that henceforth, as a minute exploration of the island was to be made, they would not sail at night, but cast anchor every evening at the most available point.

The wind fell as night approached, and the silence was unbroken. The little party, excepting Pencroff, slept less comfortably than in their beds at Granite House, but still they slept; and at daylight the next morning the sailor raised anchor, and, with a free wind, skirted the shore.

The colonists knew this magnificently wooded border, as they had traversed it formerly, on foot; but its appearance excited renewed admiration. They ran as close in as possible, and moderated their speed in order to observe it carefully. Often, they would cast anchor that Spilett might take photographic views of the superb scenery.

About noon the Good Luck arrived at the mouth of the Fall River. Above, upon the right bank, the trees were less numerous, and three miles further on they grew in mere isolated groups between the western spurs of the mountain, whose arid declivities extended to the very edge of the ocean.

How great was the contrast between the southern and the northern portions of this coast! The one wooded and verdant, the other harsh and savage! It was what they call in certain countries, an “iron-bound coast,” and its tempestuous aspect seemed to indicate a sudden crystallization of the boiling basalt in