The Mysterious Island, Jules Verne [inspiring books for teens TXT] 📗

the high rocks, and Herbert, thinking he had not seen the jaguar, was about rushing towards him, when the reporter, motioning with his hand, continued his approach. It was not his first tiger.

Advancing within ten paces of the animal, he rested motionless, his gun at his shoulder, not a muscle quivering. The jaguar, crouching back, made a bound towards the hunter, but as it sprung a bullet struck it between the eyes, dropping it dead.

Herbert and Pencroff rushed to it, and Smith and Neb coming up at the moment, all stopped to look at the splendid animal lying at length upon the sand.

“Oh, Mr. Spilett, how I envy you!” cried Herbert, in an excess of natural enthusiasm.

“Well, my boy, you would have done as well,” answered the reporter.

“I have been as cool as that!”

“Only imagine, Herbert, that a jaguar is a hare, and you will shoot him as unconcernedly as anything in the world! And now,” continued the reporter, “since the jaguar has left his retreat I don’t see, my friends, why we should not occupy the place during the night”

“But some others may return!” said Pencroff.

“We will only have to light a fire at the entrance of the cavern,” said the reporter, “and they will not dare to cross the threshold.”

“To the jaguar house, then,” cried the sailor, dragging the body of the animal after him.

The colonists went to the abandoned cave, and, while Neb was occupied in skinning the carcass, the others busied themselves with piling a great quantity of dry wood around the threshold. This done they installed themselves in the cave, whose floor was strewn with bones; the arms were loaded for an emergency; and, having eaten supper, as soon as the time for sleep was come, the fire at the entrance was lit.

Immediately a tremendous fusilade ensued! It was the bamboo which, in burning, exploded like fire-works! The noise, in itself, would have been sufficient to frighten off the bravest beasts.

 

CHAPTER XXVII.

 

PROPOSAL TO RETURN BY THE SOUTH COAST—ITS CONFIGURATION—SEARCH FOR THE SHIPWRECKED—A WAIF IN THE AIR—DISCOVERY OF A SMALL NATURAL HARBOR—MIDNIGHT ON THE MERCY—A DRIFTING CANOE.

Smith and his companions slept like mice in the cavern which the jaguar had so politely vacated, and, by sunrise, all were on the extremity of the promontory, and scrutinizing the horizon visible on either hand. No ship or wreck was to be seen, and not even with the spy-glass could any suspicious object be discerned. It was the same along the shore, at least on all that portion, three miles in length, which formed the south side of the promontory; as, beyond that, a slope of the land concealed the rest of the coast, and even from the extremity of Serpentine Peninsula, Claw Cape was hidden by high rocks.

The southern bank of the island remained to be explored. Had they not better attempt this at once, and give up this day to it? This procedure had not entered into their first calculations, as, when the canoe was left at the sources of the Mercy, the colonists thought that, having explored the west coast, they would return by the river; Smith having then believed that this coast sheltered either a wreck or a passing ship. But as soon as this shore disclosed no landing place, it became necessary to search the south side of the island for those whom they had failed to discover on the west.

It was Spilett who proposed continuing the exploration so as to settle definitely the question of the supposed shipwreck, and he inquired how far it would be to Claw Cape.

“About thirty miles,” answered the engineer, “if we allow for the irregularity of the shore.”

“Thirty miles!” exclaimed Spilett, “that would be a long walk. Nevertheless, I think we should return to Granite House by the south coast.”

“But,” observed Herbert, “from Claw Cape to Granite House is at least ten miles further.”

“Call it forty miles altogether,” answered the reporter, “and do not let us hesitate to do it. At least we will have seen this unknown shore, and will not have it to explore over again.”

“That is so,” said Pencroff. “But how about the canoe?”

“The canoe can stay where it is for a day or two,” replied Spilett. “We can hardly say that the island is infested with thieves!” ‘

“Nevertheless, when I remember that affair of the turtle, I am not so confident.”

“The turtle! the turtle!” cried the reporter, “don’t you know that the sea turned it over?”

“Who can say?” murmured the engineer.

“But—,” began Neb, who, it was evident, wished to say something.

“What is it, Neb?” questioned the engineer.

“If we do return by the shore to Claw Cape, after having gone round it, we will be stopped—”

“By the Mercy!” cried Herbert. “And we have no bridge or boat!”

“Oh!” answered Pencroff, “we can cross it readily enough with some logs.”

“Nevertheless,” said Spilett, “it would be well to build a bridge some time if we wish to have ready access to the Far West.”

“A bridge!” cried Pencroff. “Well isn’t Mr. Smith State Engineer? If we shall need a bridge we will have one. As to carrying you over the Mercy to-night without getting wet, I will look out for that. We still have a day’s provision, which is all that is necessary, and, besides, the game may not give out to-day as It did yesterday. So let us go.”

The proposal of the reporter, strongly seconded by the sailor, obtained general approval, as every one wished to end their doubts, and by returning by Claw Cape the exploration would be complete. But no time was to be lost, for the tramp was long, and they counted on reaching Granite House that night. So by 6 o’clock the little party was on its way, the guns loaded with ball in case of an encounter, and Top, who went ahead, ordered to search the edge of the forest.

The first five miles of the distance was rapidly traversed, and not the slightest sign of any human being was seen. When the colonists arrived at the point where the curvature of the promontory ended, and Washington Bay began, they were able to take in at one view the whole extent of the southern coast. Twenty-five miles distant the shore was terminated by Claw Cape, which was faintly visible through the morning mists, and reproduced as a mirage in mid-air. Between the place occupied by the colonists and the upper end of the Great Bay the shore began with a flat and continuous beach, bordered in the background by tall trees; following this, it became very irregular, and thrust sharp points into the sea, and finally a heap of black rocks, thrown together in picturesque disorder, completed the distance to Claw Cape.

“A ship would surely be lost on these sands and shoals and reefs,” said Pencroff.

“It is poor quarters!”

“But at least a portion of her would be left,” observed the reporter.

“Some bits of wood would remain on the reefs, nothing on the sands,” answered the sailor.

“How is that?”

“Because the sands are even more dangerous than the rocks, and swallow up everything that is thrown upon them; a few days suffice to bury out of sight the hull of a ship of many tons measurement.”

“Then, Pencroff,” questioned the engineer, “if a vessel had been lost on these banks, it would not be surprising if there was no trace left?”

“No, sir, that is after a time or after a tempest. Nevertheless, it would be surprising, as now, that no spars or timbers were thrown upon the shore beyond the reach of the sea.”

“Let us continue our search,” replied Smith.

By 1 o’clock the party had accomplished twenty miles, having reached the upper end of Washington Bay, and they stopped to lunch.

Here began an irregular shore, oddly cut into by a long line of rocks, succeeding the sand banks, and just beginning to show themselves by long streaks of foam, above the undulations of the receding waves. From this point to Claw Cape the beach was narrow and confined between the reef of rocks and the forest, and the march would therefore be more difficult. The granite wall sunk more and more, and above it the tops of the trees, undisturbed by a breath of air, appeared in the background.

After half an hour’s rest the colonists took up the march again, on the lookout for any sign of a wreck, but without success. They found out, however, that edible mussels were plenty on this beach, although they would not gather them until means of transport between the two banks of the river should have been perfected.

Towards 3 o’clock, Smith and his companions reached a narrow inlet, unfed by any water-course. It formed a veritable little natural harbor, invisible from without, and approached by a narrow passage guarded by the reefs. At the upper end of this creek some violent convulsion had shattered the rock, and a narrow, sloping passage gave access to the upper plateau, which proved to be ten miles from Claw Cape, and therefore four miles in a direct line from Prospect Plateau.

Spilett proposed to his companions to halt here, and, as the march had sharpened their appetites, although it was not dinner time, no one objected to a bit of venison, and with this lunch they would be able to await supper at Granite House.

Soon the colonists, seated under a group of splendid pines, were eating heartily of the provisions which Neb had brought out from his haversack. The place was some fifty or sixty feet above the sea, and the view, extending beyond the furthest rock of the cape, was lost in Union Bay. But the islet and Prospect Plateau were invisible, as the high ground and the curtain of high trees shut out the horizon to the north. Neither over the extent of sea nor on that part of the coast which it was still necessary to explore could they discover even with the spyglass any suspicious object.

“Well” said Spilett, “we can console ourselves by thinking that no one is disputing the island with us.”

“But how about the pellet?” said Herbert. “It was not a dream.”

“Indeed it was not!” cried Pencroff, thinking of his missing tooth.

“Well, what are we to conclude?” asked the reporter.

“This,” said Smith, “that within three months a ship, voluntarily or otherwise, has touched—”

“What! You will admit, Cyrus, that it has been swallowed up without leaving any trace?” cried the reporter.

“No, my dear Spilett; but you must remember that while it is certain that a human being has been here, it seems just as certain that he is not here now.”

“Then, if I understand you sir,” said Herbert, “the ship has gone again?”

“Evidently.”

“And we have lost, beyond return, a chance to get home?” said Neb.

“I believe without return.”

“Well then, since the chance is lost, let us push on,” said Pencroff, already home-sick for Granite House.

“But, just as they were rising, Top’s barking was heard, and the dog burst from the forest, holding in his mouth a 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