The Floating Island (48 page)

Walter Tankerdon, who had not
left Di, tried to lead her towards Starboard Harbour. She had not strength to
follow him. He lifted her, almost inanimate; he carried her in his arms; and in
this way he went through the terror-stricken crowd, amid this horrible
darkness.

At five o’clock in the morning,
more cracking and rending of metal were heard in the east.

A piece about half a square mile
in area had been detached from Floating Island.

It was Starboard Harbour, with
its works, its engines, its warehouses, that had drifted off.

Beneath the redoubled blows of
the cyclone, then at the height of its violence, Floating Island was thrown
about like a wreck. Its hull became broken up. The compartments divided; and
some, as the waves leapt over them, disappeared in the depths of the ocean.

“After the burst-up of the
company,” said Pinchinat, “the burst-up of Floating Island.”

That was the summing-up of the
situation.

Of the marvellous Floating Island
there now remained but a few scattered pieces, like the sporadic fragments of a
shattered comet, floating not in space, but on the surface of the wide Pacific.

When
the day broke, a spectator from a height of a few hundred feet would have seen
three fragments of Floating Island, measuring two or three hectares each,
floating on the sea, and about a dozen of smaller size at a short distance from
one another.

The cyclone began to die away
with the first appearance of daylight. With the rapidity peculiar to these
great atmospheric disturbances, its centre moved thirty miles towards the east.
But the sea, so terribly lashed, continued tremendous, and the wrecks large and
small rolled and pitched like vessels on an ocean in fury.

The part of Floating Island which
had suffered most was that which had formed the base of Milliard City. It had
sunk beneath the weight of its edifices. In vain would you search for any
vestige of its monuments, of the houses which bordered the main avenues of both
sections. Never had the separation between Larboardites and Starboardites been
more complete, and never assuredly had they dreamt of such.

Was the number of victims
considerable? It was to be feared so, although the people had taken refuge in
time in the centre of the country, where the ground offered more resistance to
dismemberment.

Well! Were they satisfied, these
Coverleys and Tankerdons, of the result due to their culpable rivalry? It was
not one of them who would govern, to the exclusion of the other. Swallowed up
was Milliard City, and with it the enormous price they had paid for it, But do
not pity their fate! There remained to them millions enough in the coffers of
the American and European banks to assure them of their daily bread in their
old age.

The largest fragment comprised
that portion of the country which extended between the observatory and Prow
Battery. Its area was about three acres, and on it the shipwrecked people
—
if we can so
describe them
—
were
gathered to the number of three thousand.

On the next largest portion were
some of the buildings in the neighbourhood of Larboard Harbour, the port, with
some of the storehouses of provisions and one of the tanks of fresh water. The
electric works, the buildings in which were the machinery and boilers, had
disappeared at the time of the explosion. On this second fragment two thousand
people had taken refuge.

With regard to Starboard Harbour,
it will not have been forgotten that this part of Floating Island had been
violently forced off at three o’clock in the morning. It had doubtless sunk,
for as far as the eye could reach, nothing could be seen of it.

With the first two fragments
floated a third, of an area of from four to five hectares, comprising that
portion of the country about Stern Battery, on which were about four thousand
people. And there were twelve more pieces, measuring a few hundred square
metres each, on which the rest of the people saved from the disaster had taken
refuge.

That was all that was left of the
Pearl of the Pacific.

There must, therefore, have been
many hundred victims of the catastrophe; and the survivors might be thankful
that Floating Island had not been swallowed up entirely in the waters of the
Pacific.

But if they were far from land,
how were these fragments to reach a coast? Were the people to perish by famine?
And would there survive a single witness of this disaster, unequalled in
maritime necrology?

No, there was no need to despair.
These drifting fragments bore energetic men, and all that was possible to do
for the common safety would be done.

It was on the fragment around
Prow Battery that were gathered Commodore Ethel Simcoe, the King and Queen of
Malecarlie, the staff of the observatory, Colonel Stewart, some of the
officers, a certain number of the notables of Milliard City, the clergy
—
in fact, an
important part of the population.

There also were the Coverley and
Tankerdon families, overwhelmed by the frightful responsibility which rested on
their chiefs. And were they not also smitten in their dearest affections, for
Walter and Di had disappeared! Were they on one of the other fragments? C
ould
they ever hope to see them again?

The Quartette Party with their
precious instruments were complete. To use a well-known formula, “death alone
would separate them.” Frascolin was still taking matters coolly, and had not
lost all hope. Yvernès, who was accustomed to look at things on their
extraordinary side, remarked;

“It would be difficult to imagine
a grander finish.”

Sebastien Zorn was nearly crazy.
To have been the prophet predicting the misfortunes of Floating Island, as
Jeremiah did the misfortunes of Sion, did not console him. He was hungry, he
was cold, he was continually coughing.

And Calistus Munbar? Well, the
superintendent was simply sublime
—
yes,
sublime! He would not despair of the safety of the people, or the safety of
Floating Island. Floating Island could be repaired. The fragments were sound,
and it could not be said that the elements had triumphed over this masterpiece
of naval architecture.

It was certain that danger was no
longer imminent. All that could sink during the cyclone had sunk with Milliard
City
—
its
hotels, its houses, the works, the batteries, all the heavy superstructure. The
fragments now were in good condition. They were floating higher than before,
and the waves were not sweeping over their surface.

Here was a respite, a tangible
amelioration, and as the fear of immediate sinking was removed, the people’s
spirits had improved. They were much calmer. Only the women and children, incapable
of reasoning, had failed to overcome their terror.

And what had happened to Athanase
Dorémus? At the commencement of the breaking up, the professor of dancing and
deportment had been carried away with his old servant on one of the fragments.
But a current had brought him towards the piece on which were his compatriots
of the quartette.

Commodore Simcoe, like the
captain of a disabled ship, aided by his devoted staff, had set to work. In the
first place, would it be possible to join up the pieces that were floating
separately? If it were impossible, could they establish communications between
them? This last question was easily answered in the affirmative, for several
boats had remained uninjured in Larboard Harbour. By sending them from one
fragment to another, Commodore Simcoe could ascertain what resources were left,
what amount of fresh water and provisions.

But was he able to find out the
longitude and latitude of this flotilla of wreckage?

No! For want of instruments to
take an altitude, the position could not be determined, and hence they could
not know if they were near any island or continent.

About nine o’clock in the
morning, Commodore Simcoe embarked with two of his officers in a boat which had
come from Larboard Harbour to fetch him. In this boat he visited the different
fragments, and this was what he ascertained in the course of the inquiry.

The distilling apparatus at
Larboard Harbour had been destroyed, but the tank contained enough drinking
water for a fortnight, if the consumption were reduced to what was strictly
necessary. The reserves in the store-houses were sufficient for the food of the
people for nearly as long.

It was therefore necessary that
in two weeks at the outside a landing should be effected on some point in the
Pacific.

This information was in a certain
measure reassuring. But Commodore Simcoe could not help discovering that there
had been many hundred victims of this terrible night. The grief of the
Tankerdon and Coverley families was inexpressible. Neither Walter nor Di had
been found on any of the fragments visited by the boat. At the moment of the
catastrophe the young man, carrying his betrothed, was going towards Starboard
Harbour, and of this part of Floating Island nothing remained on the surface of
the Pacific.

In the afternoon the wind abated
from hour to hour, the sea fell, and the fragments were barely affected by the
undulations of the surge. By means of the boats from Larboard Harbour,
Commodore Simcoe provided for the food of the people, sending them what was
necessary to save them from dying of hunger.

Communications became easier and
more rapid. The different pieces, obedient to the laws of attraction, like
fragments of cork on the surface of a basin of water, approached one another.
And was not that of good augury to the confident Calistus Munbar, who saw in it
the reconstitution of the Pearl of the Pacific?

The night went by in darkness.
The time had gone when the avenues of Milliard City, the streets of the
commercial quarters, the lawns in the park, the fields and prairies were bright
with electric lights, when the aluminium moons poured in profusion a dazzling
effulgence over the surface of Floating Island!

Amid the darkness there were a
few collisions between the fragments. These shocks could not be avoided, but
fortunately they were not violent enough to cause serious damage.

At daybreak it was seen that the
pieces were all very near together, and floating on a tranquil sea. In a few
strokes of the oar it was easy to pass from one to the other. Commodore Simcoe
had every facility for regulating the consumption of food and fresh water. That
was the important point, and the people understood it and were resigned.

The boats took several families
about. They went in search of those they had not yet found. What happiness
among these who were met with again, who gave no thought to the dangers with
which they were still threatened. What sorrow for those who vainly sought for
the absent?

It was evidently a fortunate
circumstance that the sea had calmed down. But it was perhaps regrettable that
the wind had not continued blowing from the south-east. It would have helped
the current which in this part of the Pacific runs towards the Australian
coast.

By order of Commodore Simcoe,
look-outs were posted to watch every point of the horizon. If a ship appeared,
they would make signals. But ships are few in these distant regions at this
period of the year when the equinoctial storms prevail.

There was, therefore, a very poor
chance of noticing either smoke or masts and sails along the line of sky and
water. And yet about two in the afternoon Commodore Simcoe received the
following communication from one of the look-outs:

“In the north-east there is
something on the move, and although the hull cannot be distinguished, it is
certain that a vessel is passing in the offing.”

This news caused extraordinary
excitement. The King of Malecarlie, Commodore Simcoe, the officers and
engineers, all went to the side where the vessel had been signalled from.
Orders were given to attract attention by hoisting flags at the end of spars
and by simultaneous discharges of the firearms they had left. If the night came
before these signals were noticed, a fire would be lighted, and during the
night, as it would be visible at a great distance, it was impossible that it
could escape being perceived.

It was not necessary to wait
until the evening. The mass in question visibly approached. Clouds of smoke
rolled overhead, and there could be no doubt it was making for the fragments of
Floating Island.

The glasses kept it in view,
although its hull was very little above the sea, and it possessed neither masts
nor sails.

“My friends,” Commodore Simcoe
soon exclaimed, “I am not mistaken! It is a piece of our island! It is
Starboard Harbour which was carried away by the currents. Doubtless Mr. Somwah
has repaired his engines, and is coming to us.”

Demonstrations verging on madness
welcomed the news. It seemed that the safety of all was now assured. It was as
it were a vital part of Floating Island which came back with this piece of
Starboard Harbour.

Matters had, in fact, happened as
Commodore Simcoe supposed. After the breaking off, Starboard Harbour, seized by
a counter-current, had drifted off to the northeast. When day came Mr. Somwah
had repaired the slight damages to his engines, and returned to the scene of
the wreck, bringing with him several hundred more survivors.

Three hours afterwards, Starboard
Harbour was not more than a cable’s length from the flotilla. And what
transports of joy, what shouts of enthusiasm welcomed its arrival. Walter
Tankerdon and Di Coverley, who had taken refuge there before the catastrophe,
were there side by side.

With the arrival of Starboard
Harbour, with its reserves of provisions and water, there was some chance of
safety. The stores contained enough oil to drive the engines and dynamos and
work the screws for some days. Its five million horse-power would enable it to
reach the nearest land. This land, according to the observations made by the
officer of the port, was New Zealand.