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

lake, unmoved by a single ripple, was visible before, them. Top, beating the bush, flushed many coveys of birds, which Spilett and Herbert saluted with their arrows. One of these birds, cleverly hit by the lad, dropped in the rushes. Top rushing after it, brought back a beautiful slate-colored water fowl. It was a coot, as large as a big partridge, belonging to the group of machio-dactyls, which form the division between the waders and the palmipedes. Poor game and bad tasting, but as Top was not as difficult to please as his masters, it was agreed that the bird would answer for his supper.

Then the colonists, following the southern bank of the lake, soon came to the place they had previously visited. The engineer was very much surprised, as he had seen no indication of an outlet to the surplus water. In talking with the reporter and the sailor, he did not conceal his astonishment.

At this moment, Top, who had been behaving himself quietly, showed signs of alarm. The intelligent animal, running along the bank, suddenly stopped, with one foot raised, and looked into the water as if pointing some invisible game. Then he barked furiously, questioning it, as it were, and again was suddenly silent.

At first neither Smith nor his companions paid any attention to the dog’s actions, but his barking became so incessant, that the engineer noticed it.

“What is it, Top?” he called.

The dog bounded towards his master, and, showing a real anxiety, rushed back to the bank. Then, suddenly, he threw himself into the lake.

“Come back here, Top,” cried the engineer, not wishing his dog to venture in those supicious waters.

“What’s going on under there?” asked the sailor examining the surface of the lake.

“Top has smelt something amphibious,” answered Herbert.

“It must be an alligator,” said the reporter.

“I don’t think so,” answered Smith. “Alligators are not met with in this latitude.”

Meantime, Top came ashore at the call of his master, but he could not be quiet; he rushed along the bank, through the tall grass, and, guided by instinct, seemed to be following some object, invisible under the water, which was hugging the shore. Nevertheless the surface was calm and undisturbed by a ripple. Often the colonists stood still on the bank and watched the water, but they could discover nothing. There certainly was some mystery here, and the engineer was much perplexed.

“We will follow out this exploration,” he said.

In half an hour all had arrived at the southeast angle of the lake, and were again upon Prospect Plateau. They had made the circle of the bank without the engineer having discovered either where or how the surplus water was discharged.

“Nevertheless, this outlet exists,” he repeated, “and, since it is not outside, it must penetrate the massive granite of the coast!”

“And why do you want to find that out?” asked Spilett.

“Because,” answered the engineer, “if the outlet is through the solid rock it is possible that there is some cavity, which could be easily rendered habitable, after having turned the water in another direction.”

“But may not the water flow into the sea, through a subterranean outlet at the bottom of the lake?” asked Herbert.

“Perhaps so,” answered Smith, “and in that case, since Nature has not aided us, we must build our house ourselves.”

As it was 5 o’clock, the colonists were thinking of returning to the Chimneys across the plateau, when Top again became excited, and, barking with rage, before his master could hold him, he sprang a second time into the lake. Every one ran to the bank. The dog was already twenty feet off, and Smith called to him to come back, when suddenly an enormous head emerged from the water.

Herbert instantly recognized it, the comical face, with huge eyes and long silky moustaches.

“A manatee,” he cried.

Although not a manatee, it was a dugong, which belongs to the same species.

The huge monster threw himself upon the dog. His master could do nothing to save him, and, before Spilett or Herbert could draw their bows, Top, seized by the dugong, had disappeared under the water.

Neb, spear in hand, would have sprung to the rescue of the dog, and attacked the formidable monster in its own element, had he not been held back by his master.

Meanwhile a struggle was going on under the water—a struggle which, owing to the powerlessness of the dog, was inexplicable; a struggle which, they could see by the agitation of the surface, was becoming more terrible each moment; in short, a struggle which could only be terminated by the death of the dog. But suddenly, through the midst of a circle of foam, Top appeared, shot upward by some unknown force, rising ten feet in the air, and falling again into the tumultuous waters, from which he escaped to shore without any serious wounds, miraculously saved.

Cyrus Smith and his companions looked on amazed. Still more inexplicable, it seemed as if the struggle under water continued. Doubtless the dugong, after having seized the dog, had been attacked by some more formidable animal, and had been obliged to defend itself.

But this did not last much longer. The water grew red with blood, and the body of the dugong, emerging from the waves, floated on to a little shoal at the southern angle of the lake.

The colonists ran to where the animal lay, and found it dead. Its body was enormous, measuring between 15 and 16 feet long and weighing between 3,000 and 4,000 pounds. On its neck, yawned a wound, which seemed to have been made by some sharp instrument.

What was it that had been able, by this terrible cut, to kill the formidable dugong? None of them could imagine, and, preoccupied with these incidents, they returned to the Chimneys.

CHAPTER XVII

A VISIT TO THE LAKE—THE DIRECTION OF THE CURRENT—THE PROSPECTS OF CYRUS SMITH—THE DUGONG FAT—THE USE OF THE SCHISTOUS LIMESTONE—THE SULPHATE OF IRON—HOW GLYCERINE IS MADE—SOAP—SALTPETRE—SULPHURIC ACID—NITRIC ACID—THE NEW OUTLET.

The next day, the 7th of May, Smith and Spilett, leaving Neb to prepare the breakfast, climbed the plateau, while Herbert and Pencroff went after a fresh supply of wood.

The engineer and the reporter soon arrived, at the little beach where the dugong lay stranded. Already flocks of birds had gathered about the carcass, and it was necessary to drive them off with stones, as the engineer wished to preserve the fat for the use of the colony. As to the flesh of the dugong, it would undoubtedly furnish excellent food, as in certain portions of the Malay archipelago it is reserved for the table of the native princes. But it was Neb’s affair to look after that.

Just now, Cyrus Smith was thinking of other things. The incident of the day before was constantly presenting itself. He wanted to solve the mystery of that unseen combat, and to know what congener of the mastodons or other marine monster had given the dugong this strange wound.

He stood upon the border of the lake, looking upon its tranquil surface sparkling under the rays of the rising sun. From the little beach where the dugong lay, the waters deepened slowly towards the centre, and the lake might be likened to a large basin, filled by the supply from Red Creek.

“Well, Cyrus,” questioned the reporter, “I don’t see anything suspicious in this?”

“No, my dear fellow, and I am at a loss how to explain yesterday’s affair.”

“The wound on this beast is strange enough, and I can’t understand how Top could have been thrown out of the water in that way. One would suppose that it had been done by a strong arm, and that that same arm, wielding a poignard, had given the dugong his death-wound.”

“It would seem so,” answered the engineer, who had become thoughtful. “There is something here which I cannot understand. But neither can we explain how I myself was saved; how I was snatched from the waves and borne to the downs. Therefore, I am sure there is some mystery which we will some day discover. In the mean time, let us take care not to discuss these singular incidents before our companions, but keep our thoughts for each other, and continue our work.”

It will be remembered that Smith had not yet discovered what became of the surplus water of the lake, and as there was no indication of its ever overflowing, an outlet must exist somewhere. He was surprised, therefore, on noticing a slight current just at this place. Throwing in some leaves and bits of wood, and observing their drift, he followed this current, which brought him to the southern end of the lake. Here he detected a slight depression in the waters, as if they were suddenly lost in some opening below.

Smith listened, placing his ear to the surface of the lake, and distinctly heard the sound of a subterranean fall.

“It is there,” said he, rising, “there that the water is discharged, there, doubtless, through a passage in the massive granite that it goes to join the sea, through cavities which we will be able to utilize to our profit! Well! I will find out!”

The engineer cut a long branch, stripped off its leaves, and, plunging it down at the angle of the two banks, he found that there was a large open hole a foot below the surface. This was the long-sought-for outlet, and such was the force of the current that the branch was snatched from his hands and disappeared.

“There can be no doubt of it now,” repeated the engineer. “It is the mouth of the outlet, and I am going to work to uncover it.

“How?” inquired Spilett.

“By lowering the lake three feet.”

“And how will you do that?”

“By opening another vent larger than this.”

“Whereabouts, Cyrus?”

“Where the bank is nearest the coast.”

“But it is a granite wall,” exclaimed Spilett,

“Very well,” replied Smith. “I will blow up the wall, and the waters, escaping, will subside so as to discover the orifice—”

“And will make a waterfall at the cliff,” added the reporter.

“A fall that we will make use of!” answered Cyrus. “Come, come!”

The engineer hurried off his companion, whose confidence in Smith was such that he doubted not the success of the undertaking. And yet, this wall of granite, how would they begin: how, without powder, with but imperfect tools, could they blast the rock? Had not the engineer undertaken a work beyond his skill to accomplish?

When Smith and the reporter re-entered the Chimneys, they found Herbert and Pencroff occupied in unloading their raft.

“The wood-choppers have finished, sir,” said the sailor, laughing, “and when you want masons—”

“Not masons, but chemists,” interrupted the engineer.

“Yes,” added Spilett, “we are going to blow up the island.”

“Blow up the island?” cried the sailor.

“A part of it, at least,” answered the reporter.

“Listen to me, my friends,” said the engineer, who thereupon made known the result of his observations. His theory was, that a cavity, more or less considerable, existed in the mass of granite which upheld Prospect Plateau, and he undertook to penetrate to it. To do this, it was first necessary to free the present opening, in other words to lower the level of the lake by giving the water a larger issue. To do this they must manufacture an explosive with which to make a drain in another part of the bank. It was this Smith was going to attempt to do, with the minerals Nature had placed at his disposal.

All entered into the proposal with enthusiasm. Neb and Pencroff were at once detailed to extract the fat from the dugong and to preserve the flesh for food; and soon after their departure the others, carrying the hurdle, went up the shore to the vein of coal, where were to be found the schistous pyrites of which Smith had procured a specimen.

The whole day was employed in bringing a quantity of these pyrites to the Chimneys, and by evening they had several tons.

On the next day, the 8th of May, the engineer began his manipulations. The schistous pyrites were principally composed of carbon, of silica, of