Around the World in 80 Days, Jules Verne [easy novels to read TXT] 📗

between the territories

of Wyoming and Colorado. They entered Nebraska at eleven, passed near

Sedgwick, and touched at Julesburg, on the southern branch of the Platte River.

 

It was here that the Union Pacific Railroad was inaugurated on

the 23rd of October, 1867, by the chief engineer, General Dodge.

Two powerful locomotives, carrying nine cars of invited guests,

amongst whom was Thomas C. Durant, vice-president of the road,

stopped at this point; cheers were given, the Sioux and Pawnees

performed an imitation Indian battle, fireworks were let off,

and the first number of the Railway Pioneer was printed by a press

brought on the train. Thus was celebrated the inauguration

of this great railroad, a mighty instrument of progress

and civilisation, thrown across the desert, and destined to link

together cities and towns which do not yet exist. The whistle

of the locomotive, more powerful than Amphion’s lyre, was about

to bid them rise from American soil.

 

Fort McPherson was left behind at eight in the morning,

and three hundred and fifty-seven miles had yet to be traversed

before reaching Omaha. The road followed the capricious windings

of the southern branch of the Platte River, on its left bank.

At nine the train stopped at the important town of North Platte,

built between the two arms of the river, which rejoin each other

around it and form a single artery, a large tributary, whose waters

empty into the Missouri a little above Omaha.

 

The one hundred and first meridian was passed.

 

Mr. Fogg and his partners had resumed their game; no one—not even the dummy—

complained of the length of the trip. Fix had begun by winning several

guineas, which he seemed likely to lose; but he showed himself a not less

eager whist-player than Mr. Fogg. During the morning, chance distinctly

favoured that gentleman. Trumps and honours were showered upon his hands.

 

Once, having resolved on a bold stroke, he was on the point of playing a spade,

when a voice behind him said, “I should play a diamond.”

 

Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Fix raised their heads, and beheld Colonel Proctor.

 

Stamp Proctor and Phileas Fogg recognised each other at once.

 

“Ah! it’s you, is it, Englishman?” cried the colonel;

“it’s you who are going to play a spade!”

 

“And who plays it,” replied Phileas Fogg coolly,

throwing down the ten of spades.

 

“Well, it pleases me to have it diamonds,”

replied Colonel Proctor, in an insolent tone.

 

He made a movement as if to seize the card which had just been played,

adding, “You don’t understand anything about whist.”

 

“Perhaps I do, as well as another,” said Phileas Fogg, rising.

 

“You have only to try, son of John Bull,” replied the colonel.

 

Aouda turned pale, and her blood ran cold. She seized Mr. Fogg’s

arm and gently pulled him back. Passepartout was ready to pounce

upon the American, who was staring insolently at his opponent.

But Fix got up, and, going to Colonel Proctor said, “You forget

that it is I with whom you have to deal, sir; for it was I

whom you not only insulted, but struck!”

 

“Mr. Fix,” said Mr. Fogg, “pardon me, but this affair is mine,

and mine only. The colonel has again insulted me, by insisting

that I should not play a spade, and he shall give me satisfaction for it.”

 

“When and where you will,” replied the American, “and with whatever

weapon you choose.”

 

Aouda in vain attempted to retain Mr. Fogg; as vainly did the

detective endeavour to make the quarrel his. Passepartout wished

to throw the colonel out of the window, but a sign from his master

checked him. Phileas Fogg left the car, and the American followed

him upon the platform. “Sir,” said Mr. Fogg to his adversary,

“I am in a great hurry to get back to Europe, and any delay whatever

will be greatly to my disadvantage.”

 

“Well, what’s that to me?” replied Colonel Proctor.

 

“Sir,” said Mr. Fogg, very politely, “after our meeting at San Francisco,

I determined to return to America and find you as soon as I had completed

the business which called me to England.”

 

“Really!”

 

“Will you appoint a meeting for six months hence?”

 

“Why not ten years hence?”

 

“I say six months,” returned Phileas Fogg; “and I shall be

at the place of meeting promptly.”

 

“All this is an evasion,” cried Stamp Proctor. “Now or never!”

 

“Very good. You are going to New York?”

 

“No.”

 

“To Chicago?”

 

“No.”

 

“To Omaha?”

 

“What difference is it to you? Do you know Plum Creek?”

 

“No,” replied Mr. Fogg.

 

“It’s the next station. The train will be there in an hour,

and will stop there ten minutes. In ten minutes several

revolver-shots could be exchanged.”

 

“Very well,” said Mr. Fogg. “I will stop at Plum Creek.”

 

“And I guess you’ll stay there too,” added the American insolently.

 

“Who knows?” replied Mr. Fogg, returning to the car as coolly as usual.

He began to reassure Aouda, telling her that blusterers were never

to be feared, and begged Fix to be his second at the approaching duel,

a request which the detective could not refuse. Mr. Fogg resumed

the interrupted game with perfect calmness.

 

At eleven o’clock the locomotive’s whistle announced that they were

approaching Plum Creek station. Mr. Fogg rose, and, followed by Fix,

went out upon the platform. Passepartout accompanied him, carrying

a pair of revolvers. Aouda remained in the car, as pale as death.

 

The door of the next car opened, and Colonel Proctor appeared on the platform,

attended by a Yankee of his own stamp as his second. But just as the

combatants were about to step from the train, the conductor hurried up,

and shouted, “You can’t get off, gentlemen!”

 

“Why not?” asked the colonel.

 

“We are twenty minutes late, and we shall not stop.”

 

“But I am going to fight a duel with this gentleman.”

 

“I am sorry,” said the conductor; “but we shall be off at once.

There’s the bell ringing now.”

 

The train started.

 

“I’m really very sorry, gentlemen,” said the conductor.

“Under any other circumstances I should have been happy to oblige you.

But, after all, as you have not had time to fight here,

why not fight as we go along?

 

“That wouldn’t be convenient, perhaps, for this gentleman,”

said the colonel, in a jeering tone.

 

“It would be perfectly so,” replied Phileas Fogg.

 

“Well, we are really in America,” thought Passepartout,

“and the conductor is a gentleman of the first order!”

 

So muttering, he followed his master.

 

The two combatants, their seconds, and the conductor passed through

the cars to the rear of the train. The last car was only occupied

by a dozen passengers, whom the conductor politely asked if they would

not be so kind as to leave it vacant for a few moments, as two gentlemen

had an affair of honour to settle. The passengers granted the request

with alacrity, and straightway disappeared on the platform.

 

The car, which was some fifty feet long, was very convenient

for their purpose. The adversaries might march on each other

in the aisle, and fire at their ease. Never was duel more easily

arranged. Mr. Fogg and Colonel Proctor, each provided with two

six-barrelled revolvers, entered the car. The seconds, remaining

outside, shut them in. They were to begin firing at the first

whistle of the locomotive. After an interval of two minutes,

what remained of the two gentlemen would be taken from the car.

 

Nothing could be more simple. Indeed, it was all so simple

that Fix and Passepartout felt their hearts beating as if they

would crack. They were listening for the whistle agreed upon,

when suddenly savage cries resounded in the air, accompanied

by reports which certainly did not issue from the car where

the duellists were. The reports continued in front and the whole

length of the train. Cries of terror proceeded from the interior

of the cars.

 

Colonel Proctor and Mr. Fogg, revolvers in hand, hastily quitted

their prison, and rushed forward where the noise was most clamorous.

They then perceived that the train was attacked by a band of Sioux.

 

This was not the first attempt of these daring Indians, for more than

once they had waylaid trains on the road. A hundred of them had,

according to their habit, jumped upon the steps without stopping

the train, with the ease of a clown mounting a horse at full gallop.

 

The Sioux were armed with guns, from which came the reports,

to which the passengers, who were almost all armed, responded

by revolver-shots.

 

The Indians had first mounted the engine, and half stunned

the engineer and stoker with blows from their muskets.

A Sioux chief, wishing to stop the train, but not knowing

how to work the regulator, had opened wide instead of closing

the steam-valve, and the locomotive was plunging forward

with terrific velocity.

 

The Sioux had at the same time invaded the cars, skipping like

enraged monkeys over the roofs, thrusting open the doors,

and fighting hand to hand with the passengers. Penetrating the

baggage-car, they pillaged it, throwing the trunks out of the train.

The cries and shots were constant. The travellers defended

themselves bravely; some of the cars were barricaded,

and sustained a siege, like moving forts, carried along

at a speed of a hundred miles an hour.

 

Aouda behaved courageously from the first. She defended herself

like a true heroine with a revolver, which she shot through the broken

windows whenever a savage made his appearance. Twenty Sioux had fallen

mortally wounded to the ground, and the wheels crushed those who fell

upon the rails as if they had been worms. Several passengers,

shot or stunned, lay on the seats.

 

It was necessary to put an end to the struggle, which had lasted

for ten minutes, and which would result in the triumph of the Sioux

if the train was not stopped. Fort Kearney station, where there was

a garrison, was only two miles distant; but, that once passed,

the Sioux would be masters of the train between Fort Kearney

and the station beyond.

 

The conductor was fighting beside Mr. Fogg, when he was shot and fell.

At the same moment he cried, “Unless the train is stopped in five minutes,

we are lost!”

 

“It shall be stopped,” said Phileas Fogg, preparing to rush from the car.

 

“Stay, monsieur,” cried Passepartout; “I will go.”

 

Mr. Fogg had not time to stop the brave fellow, who, opening a door

unperceived by the Indians, succeeded in slipping under the car;

and while the struggle continued and the balls whizzed across each

other over his head, he made use of his old acrobatic experience,

and with amazing agility worked his way under the cars, holding on

to the chains, aiding himself by the brakes and edges of the sashes,

creeping from one car to another with marvellous skill,

and thus gaining the forward end of the train.

 

There, suspended by one hand between the baggage-car and the tender,

with the other he loosened the safety chains; but, owing to the traction,

he would never have succeeded in unscrewing the yoking-bar,

had not a violent concussion jolted this bar out. The train,

now detached from the engine, remained a little behind,

whilst the locomotive rushed forward with increased speed.

 

Carried on by the force already acquired, the train still moved

for several minutes; but the brakes were worked and at last they stopped,

less than a hundred feet from Kearney station.

 

The soldiers of the fort, attracted by the shots, hurried up;

the Sioux