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

soiled rag.

Neb took it from him. It was a bit of strong cloth. Top, still barking, seemed by his motions to invite his master to follow into the wood.

“Here is something which will explain my bullet,” cried Pencroff.

“A shipwrecked person!” answered Herbert.

“Wounded, perhaps!” exclaimed Neb.

“Or dead!” responded the reporter.

And all holding their arms in readiness, hurried after the dog through the outskirts of the forests. They advanced some distance into the wood, but, to their disappointment, they saw no tracks. The underbrush and lianas were uninjured and had to be cut away with the hatchet, as in the depths of the forest. It was hard to imagine that any human creature had passed there, and yet Top’s action showed no uncertainty, but was more like that of a human being having a fixed purpose.

In a few minutes the dog stopped. The colonists, who had arrived at a sort of glade surrounded by high trees, looked all about them, but neither in the underbrush or between the tree trunks could they discover a thing.

“What is it, Top?” said Smith.

Top, barking louder, ran to the foot of a gigantic pine.

Suddenly Pencroff exclaimed:—

“This is capital!”

“What’s that,” asked Spilett.

“We’ve been hunting for some waif on the sea or land—”

“Well?”

“And here it is in the air!”

And the sailor pointed out a mass of faded cloth caught on the summit of the pine, a piece of which Top had found on the ground.

“But that is no waif!” exclaimed Spilett.

“Indeed it is,” answered Pencroff.

“How is it!”

“It is all that is left of our balloon, of our ship which is stranded on the top of this tree.”

Pencroff was not mistaken, and he added, with a shout:—

“And there is good stuff in it which will keep us in linen for years. It will make us handkerchiefs and shirts. Aha, Mr. Spilett! what do you say of an island where shirts grow on the trees?”

It was, indeed, a fortunate thing for the colonists that the aerostat, after having made its last bound into the air, had fallen again on the island. They could, either keep the envelope in its present shape, in case they might desire to attempt a new flight through the air, or, after having taken off the varnish, they could make use of its hundreds of ells of good cotton cloth. At these thoughts all shared Pencroff’s joy.

It was no easy task to take down this envelope from the tree top. But Neb, Herbert, and the sailor climbed up to it, and after two hours of hard work not only the envelope, with its valve, springs, and leather mountings, but the net, equivalent to a large quantity of cordage and ropes, together with the iron ring and the anchor, lay upon the ground. The envelope, excepting the rent, was in good order, and only its lower end had been torn away.

It was a gift from heaven.

“Nevertheless, Mr. Smith,” said the sailor, “if we ever do decide to leave the island it won’t be in a balloon, I hope. These air ships don’t always go the way you want them to, as we have found out. If you will let me have my way, we will build a ship of twenty tons, and you will allow me to cut from this cloth a foresail and jib. The rest of it will do for clothes.”

“We will see about it, Pencroff,” answered Smith.

“And meanwhile it must all be put away carefully,” said Neb.

In truth, they could not think of carrying all this weight of material to Granite House; and while waiting for a proper means of removing it, it was important not to leave it exposed to the weather. The colonists, uniting their efforts, succeeded in dragging it to the shore, where they discovered a cave so situated that neither wind, rain, nor sea could get at it.

“It is a wardrobe,” said Pencroff; “but since it does not kick, it will be prudent to hide the opening, not, perhaps from two-footed, but from four-footed thieves!”

By 6 o’clock everything was stored away, and after having named the little inlet, Balloon, Harbor, they took the road for Claw Cape. Pencroff and the engineer discussed several projects, which it would be well to attend to at once. The first thing was to build a bridge across the Mercy, and, as the canoe was too small, to bring the balloon over in the cart. Then to build a decked launch, which Pencroff would make cutter-rigged, and in which they could make voyages of circumnavigation—around the island; then, etc.

In the meantime the night approached, and it was already dark, when the colonists reached Jetsam Point, where they had discovered the precious box. But here, as elsewhere, there was nothing to indicate a shipwreck, and it became necessary to adopt the opinions expressed by Smith.

The four miles from Jetsam Point to Granite House were quickly traversed, but it was midnight when the colonists arrived at the first bend above the mouth of the Mercy. There the river was eighty feet wide, and Pencroff, who had undertaken to overcome the difficulty of crossing it, set to work. It must be admitted that the colonists were fatigued. The tramp had been long, and the incident of the balloon had not rested their arms or legs. They were therefore anxious to get back to Granite House to supper and bed, and if they had only had the bridge, in a quarter of an hour they could have been at home.

The night was very dark. Pencroff and Neb, armed with the hatchets, chose two trees near the bank, and began cutting them down, in order to make a raft. Smith and Spilett, seated on the ground, waited to assist their companions, and Herbert sauntered about, doing nothing.

All at once the lad, who had gone up the stream, returned hurriedly, and, pointing back, exclaimed:—

“What is that drifting there?”

Pencroff stopped work and perceived an object resting motionless in the gloom.

“A canoe!” he exclaimed.

All came up and saw, to their astonishment, a boat following the current.

“Canoe, ahoy!” shouted Pencroff from force of habit, forgetting that it might be better to keep quiet.

There was no answer. The boat continued to drift, and it was not more than a dozen paces off, when the sailor exclaimed:—

“Why, it’s our canoe! She has broken away and drifted down with the current. Well, we must admit that she comes in the nick of time!”

“Our canoe!” murmured the engineer.

Pencroff was right. It was indeed their canoe, which had doubtless broken loose and drifted all the way from the headwaters of the Mercy! It was important to seize it in passing before it should be drawn into the rapid current at the mouth of the river, and Pencroff and Neb, by the aid of a long pole, did this, and drew the canoe to the bank.

The engineer stepped in first, and, seizing the rope, assured himself that it had been really worn in two against the rocks.

“This,” said the reporter in an undertone; “this is a coincidence—”

“It is very strange!” answered the engineer.

At least it was fortunate, and while no one could doubt that the rope had been broken by friction, the astonishing part of the affair was that the canoe had arrived at the moment when the colonists were there to seize it, for a quarter of an hour later, and it would have been carried out to sea. Had there been such things as genii, this incident would have been sufficient to make the colonists believe that the island was inhabited by a supernatural being, who placed his power at their disposal.

With a few strokes the party arrived at the mouth of the Mercy. The canoe was drawn on shore at the Chimneys, and all took their way to the ladder at Granite House.

But, just then, Top began barking furiously, and Neb, who was feeling for the lower rung, cried out:—

“The ladder’s gone!”

CHAPTER XXVIII

PENCROFF’S HALLOOS—A NIGHT IN THE CHIMNEYS—HERBERT’S ARROW—SMITH’S PLAN—AN UNEXPECTED SOLUTION—WHAT HAD HAPPENED IN GRANITE HOUSE—HOW THE COLONISTS OBTAINED A NEW DOMESTIC.

Smith stood silent. His companions searched in the obscurity along the wall, over the ground, for the broken part of the ladder, supposing it had been torn off by the wind. But the ladder had certainly disappeared, although it was impossible to tell in the darkness whether a gust of wind had not carried it up and lodged it on the first ledge.

“If this is a joke, it’s a pretty poor one,” cried Pencroff. “To get home and not be able to find the staircase, won’t do for tired men.”

Neb stood in open-mouthed amazement.

“It could not have been carried away by the wind!” said Herbert.

“I’m beginning to think that strange things happen in Lincoln Island!” said Pencroff.

“Strange?” rejoined Spilett. “Why no, Pencroff, nothing is more natural. Somebody has come while we have been absent, and has taken possession of the house and drawn up the ladder!”.

“Some one!” cried the sailor. “Who could it be?”

“Why, the man who shot the bullet,” answered the reporter “How else can you explain it?”

“Very well, if any one is up there,” replied Pencroff, beginning to get angry, “I will hail him, and he had better answer.”

And in a voice of thunder the sailor gave a prolonged “Ohe,” which was loudly repeated by the echoes.

The colonists listened, and thought that they heard a sort of chuckling proceed from Granite House. But there was no answering voice to the sailor, who repeated his appeal in vain.

Here was an event that would have astonished people the most indifferent, and from their situation the colonists could not be that. To them, the slightest incident was of moment, and certainly during their seven months’ residence nothing equal to this had happened.

They stood there at the foot of Granite House not knowing what to do or to say. Neb was disconsolate at not being able to get back to the kitchen, especially as the provisions taken for the journey had all been eaten, and they had no present means of renewing them.

“There is but one thing to do, my friends,” said Smith, “to wait until daylight, and then to be governed by circumstances. Meanwhile let us go to the Chimneys, where we will be sheltered, and, even if we cannot eat, we can sleep.”

“But who is the ill-mannered fellow that has played us this trick?” asked Pencroff again, who thought it no joke.

Whoever he was, there was nothing to do but to follow the engineer’s advice. Top having been ordered to lie down under the windows of Granite House, took his place without complaint. The brave dog remained at the foot of the wall, while his master and his companions took shelter among the rocks.

The colonists, tired as they were, slept but little. Not only were their beds uncomfortable, but it was certain that their house was occupied at present, and they were unable to get into it. Now Granite House was not only their dwelling, it was their storehouse. Everything they possessed was stored there. It would be a serious thing if this should be pillaged and they should have again to begin at the beginning. In their anxiety, one or the other went out often to see if the dog remained on watch. Smith, alone, waited with his accustomed patience, although he was exasperated at finding himself confronted by something utterly inexplicable, and his reason shrank from the thought that around him, over him, perhaps, was exercising an influence to which he could give no name. Spilett sharing his thoughts, they conversed together in an undertone of those unaccountable events which defied all their knowledge and experience. Certainly, there was a mystery about this island, but how discover it? Even Herbert did not know what to think, and often questioned Smith. As to Neb, he said that this was his master’s business and not his; and if he had not feared offending his companions, the brave fellow would have slept this night as soundly as if he had been in his bed in