The Mysterious Island (44 page)

Cyrus Harding was equally anxious to try the vessel, the model of which
had originated with him, although on the sailor's advice he had altered
some parts of it, but he did not share Pencroft's confidence in her,
and as the latter had not again spoken of the voyage to Tabor Island,
Harding hoped he had given it up. He would have indeed great reluctance
in letting two or three of his companions venture so far in so small a
boat, which was not of more than fifteen tons' burden.

At half-past ten everybody was on board, even Top and Jup, and Herbert
weighed the anchor, which was fast in the sand near the mouth of the
Mercy. The sail was hoisted, the Lincolnian flag floated from the
masthead, and the "Bonadventure," steered by Pencroft, stood out to sea.

The wind blowing out of Union Bay she ran before it, and thus showed her
owners, much to their satisfaction, that she possessed a remarkably fast
pair of heels, according to Pencroft's mode of speaking. After having
doubled Flotsam Point and Claw Cape, the captain kept her close hauled,
so as to sail along the southern coast of the island, when it was found
she sailed admirably within five points of the wind. All hands were
enchanted, they had a good vessel, which, in case of need, would be
of great service to them, and with fine weather and a fresh breeze the
voyage promised to be charming.

Pencroft now stood off the shore, three or four miles across from Port
Balloon. The island then appeared in all its extent and under a new
aspect, with the varied panorama of its shore from Claw Cape to Reptile
End, the forests in which dark firs contrasted with the young foliage
of other trees and overlooked the whole, and Mount Franklin whose lofty
head was still whitened with snow.

"How beautiful it is!" cried Herbert.

"Yes, our island is beautiful and good," replied Pencroft. "I love it as
I loved my poor mother. It received us poor and destitute, and now what
is wanting to us five fellows who fell on it from the sky?"

"Nothing," replied Neb; "nothing, captain."

And the two brave men gave three tremendous cheers in honor of their
island!

During all this time Gideon Spilett, leaning against the mast, sketched
the panorama which was developed before his eyes.

Cyrus Harding gazed on it in silence.

"Well, Captain Harding," asked Pencroft, "what do you think of our
vessel?"

"She appears to behave well," replied the engineer.

"Good! And do you think now that she could undertake a voyage of some
extent?"

"What voyage, Pencroft?"

"One to Tabor Island, for instance."

"My friend," replied Harding, "I think that in any pressing emergency
we need not hesitate to trust ourselves to the 'Bonadventure' even for
a longer voyage; but you know I should see you set off to Tabor Island
with great uneasiness, since nothing obliges you to go there."

"One likes to know one's neighbors," returned the sailor, who was
obstinate in his idea. "Tabor Island is our neighbor, and the only one!
Politeness requires us to go at least to pay a visit."

"By Jove," said Spilett, "our friend Pencroft has become very particular
about the proprieties all at once!"

"I am not particular about anything at all," retorted the sailor, who
was rather vexed by the engineer's opposition, but who did not wish to
cause him anxiety.

"Consider, Pencroft," resumed Harding, "you cannot go alone to Tabor
Island."

"One companion will be enough for me."

"Even so," replied the engineer, "you will risk depriving the colony of
Lincoln Island of two settlers out of five."

"Out of six," answered Pencroft; "you forget Jup."

"Out of seven," added Neb; "Top is quite worth another."

"There is no risk at all in it, captain," replied Pencroft.

"That is possible, Pencroft; but I repeat it is to expose ourselves
uselessly."

The obstinate sailor did not reply, and let the conversation drop, quite
determined to resume it again. But he did not suspect that an incident
would come to his aid and change into an act of humanity that which was
at first only a doubtful whim.

After standing off the shore the "Bonadventure" again approached it
in the direction of Port Balloon. It was important to ascertain the
channels between the sandbanks and reefs, that buoys might be laid down
since this little creek was to be the harbor.

They were not more than half a mile from the coast, and it was necessary
to tack to beat against the wind. The "Bonadventure" was then going at a
very moderate rate, as the breeze, partly intercepted by the high land,
scarcely swelled her sails, and the sea, smooth as glass, was only
rippled now and then by passing gusts.

Herbert had stationed himself in the bows that he might indicate the
course to be followed among the channels, when all at once he shouted,—

"Luff, Pencroft, luff!"

"What's the matter," replied the sailor; "a rock?"

"No—wait," said Herbert; "I don't quite see. Luff again—right—now."

So saying, Herbert, leaning over the side, plunged his arm into the
water, and pulled it out, exclaiming,—

"A bottle!"

He held in his hand a corked bottle which he had just seized a few
cables' length from the shore.

Cyrus Harding took the bottle. Without uttering a single word he drew
the cork, and took from it a damp paper, on which were written these
words:—

"Castaway.... Tabor island: 153deg W. long., 37deg 11' S. lat."

"A castaway!" exclaimed Pencroft; "left on this Tabor Island not two
hundred miles from us! Ah, Captain Harding, you won't now oppose my
going."

"No, Pencroft," replied Cyrus Harding; "and you shall set out as soon as
possible."

"To-morrow?"

"To-morrow!"

The engineer still held in his hand the paper which he had taken from
the bottle. He contemplated it for some instants, then resumed,

"From this document, my friends, from the way in which it is worded,
we may conclude this: first, that the castaway on Tabor Island is a man
possessing a considerable knowledge of navigation, since he gives the
latitude and longitude of the island exactly as we ourselves found it,
and to a second of approximation; secondly, that he is either English or
American, as the document is written in the English language."

"That is perfectly logical," answered Spilett; "and the presence of this
castaway explains the arrival of the case on the shores of our island.
There must have been a wreck, since there is a castaway. As to the
latter, whoever he may be, it is lucky for him that Pencroft thought of
building this boat and of trying her this very day, for a day later and
this bottle might have been broken on the rocks."

"Indeed," said Herbert, "it is a fortunate chance that the
'Bonadventure' passed exactly where the bottle was still floating!"

"Does not this appear strange to you?" asked Harding of Pencroft.

"It appears fortunate, that's all," answered the sailor. "Do you see
anything extraordinary in it, captain? The bottle must go somewhere, and
why not here as well as anywhere else?"

"Perhaps you are right, Pencroft," replied the engineer; "and yet—"

"But," observed Herbert, "there's nothing to prove that this bottle has
been floating long in the sea."

"Nothing," replied Gideon Spilett, "and the document appears even to
have been recently written. What do you think about it, Cyrus?"

During this conversation Pencroft had not remained inactive. He had put
the vessel about, and the "Bonadventure," all sails set, was running
rapidly towards Claw Cape.

Every one was thinking of the castaway on Tabor Island. Should they
be in time to save him? This was a great event in the life of the
colonists! They themselves were but castaways, but it was to be feared
that another might not have been so fortunate, and their duty was to go
to his succor.

Claw Cape was doubled, and about four o'clock the "Bonadventure" dropped
her anchor at the mouth of the Mercy.

That same evening the arrangements for the new expedition were made.
It appeared best that Pencroft and Herbert, who knew how to work the
vessel, should undertake the voyage alone. By setting out the next day,
the 10th of October, they would arrive on the 13th, for with the present
wind it would not take more than forty-eight hours to make this passage
of a hundred and fifty miles. One day in the island, three or four to
return, they might hope therefore that on the 17th they would again
reach Lincoln Island. The weather was fine, the barometer was rising,
the wind appeared settled, everything then was in favor of these brave
men whom an act of humanity was taking far from their island.

Thus it had been agreed that Cyrus Harding, Neb, and Gideon Spilett
should remain at Granite House, but an objection was raised, and
Spilett, who had not forgotten his business as reporter to the New York
Herald, having declared that he would go by swimming rather than lose
such an opportunity, he was admitted to take a part in the voyage.

The evening was occupied in transporting on board the "Bonadventure,"
articles of bedding, utensils, arms, ammunition, a compass, provisions
for a week; this being rapidly done, the colonists ascended to Granite
House.

The next day, at five o'clock in the morning, the farewells were said,
not without some emotion on both sides, and Pencroft setting sail made
towards Claw Cape, which had to be doubled in order to proceed to the
southwest.

The "Bonadventure" was already a quarter of a mile from the coast when
the passengers perceived on the heights of Granite House two men waving
their farewells; they were Cyrus Harding and Neb.

"Our friends," exclaimed Spilett, "this is our first separation in
fifteen months."

Pencroft, the reporter and Herbert waved in return, and Granite House
soon disappeared behind the high rocks of the Cape.

During the first part of the day the "Bonadventure" was still in sight
of the southern coast of Lincoln Island, which soon appeared just like
a green basket, with Mount Franklin rising from the center. The heights,
diminished by distance, did not present an appearance likely to tempt
vessels to touch there. Reptile End was passed in about an hour, though
at a distance of about ten miles.

At this distance it was no longer possible to distinguish anything of
the Western Coast, which stretched away to the ridges of Mount Franklin,
and three hours after the last of Lincoln Island sank below the horizon.

The "Bonadventure" behaved capitally. Bounding over the waves she
proceeded rapidly on her course. Pencroft had hoisted the foresail, and
steering by the compass followed a rectilinear direction. From time to
time Herbert relieved him at the helm, and the lad's hand was so firm
that the sailor had not a point to find fault with.

Gideon Spilett chatted sometimes with one, sometimes with the other, if
wanted he lent a hand with the ropes, and Captain Pencroft was perfectly
satisfied with his crew.

In the evening the crescent moon, which would not be in its first
quarter until the 16th, appeared in the twilight and soon set again. The
night was dark but starry, and the next day again promised to be fine.

Pencroft prudently lowered the foresail, not wishing to be caught by
a sudden gust while carrying too much canvas; it was perhaps an
unnecessary precaution on such a calm night, but Pencroft was a prudent
sailor and cannot be blamed for it.

The reporter slept part of the night. Pencroft and Herbert took turns
for a spell of two hours each at the helm. The sailor trusted Herbert as
he would himself, and his confidence was justified by the coolness and
judgment of the lad. Pencroft gave him his directions as a commander to
his steersman, and Herbert never allowed the "Bonadventure" to swerve
even a point. The night passed quickly, as did the day of the 12th of
October. A south-easterly direction was strictly maintained. Unless the
"Bonadventure" fell in with some unknown current she would come exactly
within sight of Tabor Island.

As to the sea over which the vessel was then sailing, it was absolutely
deserted. Now and then a great albatross or frigate bird passed within
gunshot, and Gideon Spilett wondered if it was to one of them that he
had confided his last letter addressed to the New York Herald. These
birds were the only beings that appeared to frequent this part of the
ocean between Tabor and Lincoln Islands.

"And yet," observed Herbert, "this is the time that whalers usually
proceed towards the southern part of the Pacific. Indeed I do not think
there could be a more deserted sea than this."

"It is not quite so deserted as all that," replied Pencroft.

"What do you mean?" asked the reporter.

"We are on it. Do you take our vessel for a wreck and us for porpoises?"

And Pencroft laughed at his joke.

By the evening, according to calculation, it was thought that the
"Bonadventure" had accomplished a distance of a hundred and twenty miles
since her departure from Lincoln Island, that is to say in thirty-six
hours, which would give her a speed of between three and four knots
an hour. The breeze was very slight and might soon drop altogether.
However, it was hoped that the next morning by break of day, if the
calculation had been correct and the course true, they would sight Tabor
Island.

Neither Gideon Spilett, Herbert, nor Pencroft slept that night. In the
expectation of the next day they could not but feel some emotion.
There was so much uncertainty in their enterprise! Were they near Tabor
Island? Was the island still inhabited by the castaway to whose succor
they had come? Who was this man? Would not his presence disturb the
little colony till then so united? Besides, would he be content to
exchange his prison for another? All these questions, which would no
doubt be answered the next day, kept them in suspense, and at the dawn
of day they all fixed their gaze on the western horizon.