The Mysterious Island, Jules Verne [classic novels .txt] 📗

was one of his old companions in Australia, who had followed out his criminal projects by getting possession, off Norfolk Island, of this brig, charged with arms, ammunition, utensils, and tools of all kinds, destined for one of the Sandwich Islands. All his band had gotten on board, and, adding piracy to their other crimes, the wretches scoured the Pacific, destroying ships and massacring their crews. They were drinking deep and talking loudly over their exploits, and Ayrton gathered the following facts:—

The crew were composed entirely of English convicts, escaped from Norfolk Island. In 29° 2’ south latitude, and 165° 42’ east longitude, to the east of Australia, is a little island about six leagues in circumference, with Mount Pitt rising in the midst, 1,100 feet above the level of the sea. It is Norfolk Island, the seat of an establishment where are crowded together the most dangerous of the transported English convicts. There are 500 of them; they undergo a rigid discipline, with severe punishment for disobedience, and are guarded by 150 soldiers and 150 civil servants, under the authority of a Governor. A worse set of villains cannot be imagined. Sometimes, though rarely, in spite of the extreme precautions of their jailors, some of them contrive to escape by seizing a ship, and become the pest of the Polynesian archipelagos. Thus had done Harvey and his companions. Thus had Ayrton formerly wished to do. Harvey had seized the Speedy, which was anchored within sight of Norfolk Island, had massacred the crew, and for a year had made the brig the terror of the Pacific.

The convicts were most of them gathered on the poop, in the after part of the ship; but a few were lying on deck, talking in loud voices. The conversation went on amid noise and drunkenness. Ayrton gathered that chance only had brought them within sight of Lincoln Island. Harvey had never set foot there; but, as Smith had foreseen, coming upon an island not in the maps, he had determined to go on shore, and, if the land suited him, to make it the Speedy’s headquarters. The black flag and the cannon-shot were a mere freak of the pirates, to imitate a ship-of-war running up her colors.

The colonists were in very serious danger. The island, with its easy water supply, its little harbor, its varied resources so well turned to account by the colonists, its secret recesses of Granite House—all these would be just what the convicts wanted. In their hands the island would become an excellent place of refuge, and the fact of its being unknown would add to their security. Of course the colonists would instantly be put to death. They could not even escape to the interior, for the convicts would make the island their headquarters, and if they went on an expedition would leave some of the crew behind. It would be a struggle for life and death with these wretches, every one of whom must be destroyed before the colonists would be safe. Those were Ayrton’s thoughts, and he knew that Smith would agree with him. But was a successful resistance possible? Everything depended on the calibre of the brig’s guns and the number of her men. These were facts which Ayrton must know at any cost.

An hour after he had reached the brig the noise began to subside, and most of the convicts lay plunged in a drunken sleep. Ayrton determined to risk himself on the ship’s deck, which the extinguished lanterns left in profound darkness. He got in the chains by the cut-water, and by means of the bowsprit climbed to the brig’s forecastle. Creeping quietly through the sleeping crew, who lay stretched here and there on the deck, he walked completely around the vessel and ascertained that the Speedy carried four guns, from eight to ten-pounders. He discovered also that the guns were breech-loading, of modern make, easily worked, and capable of doing great damage.

There were about ten men lying on deck, but it might be that others were asleep in the hold. Moreover, Ayrton had gathered from the conversation that there were some fifty on board; rather an overmatch for the six colonists. But, at least, the latter would not be surprised; thanks to Ayrton’s devotion, they would know their adversaries force, and would make their dispositions accordingly. Nothing remained for Ayrton but to go back to his comrades with the information he had gathered, and he began walking towards the forecastle to let himself down into the sea.

And now to this man, who wished to do more than his duty, there came a heroic thought, the thought of sacrificing his life for the safety of his comrades. Smith could not of course resist fifty well-armed marauders, who would either overcome him or starve him out. Ayrton pictured to himself his preservers who had made a man of him, and an honest man, to whom he owed everything, pitilessly murdered, their labors brought to nothing, their island changed to a den of pirates. He said to himself that he, Ayrton, was the first cause of these disasters, since his old companion, Harvey, had only carried out Ayrton’s projects; and a feeling of horror came over him. Then came the irresistible desire to blow up the brig, with all on board. He would perish in the explosion, but he would have done his duty.

He did not hesitate! It was easy to reach the powder magazine, which is always in the after part of the ship. Powder must be plenty on board such a vessel, and a spark would bring destruction.

Ayrton lowered himself carefully between-decks, where he found many of the pirates lying about, overcome rather by drunkenness than sleep. A ship’s lantern, was lighted at the foot of the mainmast, from which hung a rack full of all sorts of firearms. Ayrton took from the rack a revolver, and made sure that it was loaded and capped. It was all that he needed to accomplish the work of destruction. Then he glided back to the poop, where the powder magazine would be.

Between decks it was dark, and he could hardly step without knocking against some half-asleep convict, and meeting with an oath or a blow. More than once he had to stop short, but at length he reached the partition separating the after-compartment, and found the door of the magazine. This he had to force, and it was a difficult matter to accomplish without noise, as he had to break a padlock. But at last, under his vigorous hand, the padlock fell apart and the door opened.

Just then a hand was laid upon his shoulder.

“What are you doing there?” said a harsh voice, and a tall form rose from the shadow and turned the light of a lantern fall on Ayrton’s face.

Ayrton turned around sharply. By a quick flash from the lantern, he saw his old accomplice, Harvey; but the latter, believing Ayrton, as he did, to be dead, failed to recognize him.

“What are you doing there?” said Harvey, seizing Ayrton by the strap of his trousers. Ayrton made no answer but a vigorous push, and sprang forward to the magazine. One shot into those tons of powder, and all would have been over!

“Help, lads!” cried Harvey.

Two or three pirates, roused by his voice, threw themselves upon Ayrton, and strove to drag him to the ground. He rid himself of them with two shots from his revolver; but received in so doing, a wound from a knife in the fleshy part of the shoulder. He saw in a moment that his project was no longer feasible. Harvey had shut the door of the magazine, and a dozen pirates were half-awake. He most save himself for the sake of his comrades.

Four barrels were left. He discharged two of them right and left, one at Harvey, though without effect; and then, profiting by his enemies’ momentary recoil, rushed towards the ladder which led to the deck of the brig. As he passed the lantern he knocked it down with a blow from the butt-end of his pistol, and left everything in darkness.

Two or three pirates, awakened by the noise, were coming down the ladder at that moment. A fifth shot stretched one at the foot of the steps, and the others got out of the way, not understanding what was going on. In two bounds Ayrton was on the brig’s deck, and three seconds afterwards, after discharging his last shot at a pirate who tried to seize him by the neck, he made his way down the netting and leaped into the sea. He had not swam six fathoms before the bullets began to whistle around him like hail.

What were the feelings of Pencroff, hidden behind a rock on the islet, and of his comrades in the Chimneys, when they heard these shots from the brig! They rushed out upon the shore, and, with their guns at their shoulders, stood ready to meet any attack. For them no doubt remained. They believed that Ayrton had been killed, and the pirates were about to make a descent on the island. Thus half an hour passed away. They suffered torments of anxiety. They could not go to the assistance of Ayrton or Pencroff, for the boat had been taken, and the high tide forbade them crossing the channel.

Finally, at half-past 12, a boat with two men came along shore. It was Ayrton, with a slight wound in his shoulder, and Pencroff. Their friends received them with open arms.

Then all took refuge at the Chimneys. There Ayrton told them all that happened, including his plan to blow up the brig.

Every one grasped the man’s hand, but the situation was desperate. The pirates knew that Lincoln Island was inhabited, and would come down upon it in force. They would respect nothing. If the colonists fell into their hands they had no mercy to hope for!

“We can die like men,” said the reporter.

“Let us go in and keep watch,” said the engineer.

“Do you think there is any chance, Mr. Smith?” said the sailor.

“Yes, Pencroff.”

“How! Six against fifty!”

“Yes, six—and one other—”

“Who?” asked Pencroff.

Smith did not answer, but he looked upwards

CHAPTER XLV.

THE MIST RISES—THE ENGINEER’S DISPOSITION OF FORCES—THREE POSTS—AYRTON AND PENCROFF—THE FIRST ATTACK —TWO OTHER BOAT LOADS—ON THE ISLET—SIX CONVICTS ON SHORE—THE BRIG WEIGHS ANCHOR—THE SPEEDY’S PROJECTILES—DESPERATE SITUATION—UNEXPECTED DENOUEMENT.

The night passed without incident. The colonists were still at the Chimneys, keeping a constant lookout. The pirates made no attempt at landing. Since the last shots fired at Ayrton, not a sound betrayed the presence of the brig in the bay. They might have supposed she had weighed anchor and gone off in the night.

But it was not so, and when daylight began to appear the colonists could see her dark hulk dim through the morning mists.

“Listen, my friends,” then said the engineer. “These are the dispositions it seems to me best to make before the mist dispels, which conceals us from view. We must make these convicts believe that the inhabitants of the island are numerous and well able to resist them. Let us divide ourselves into three groups, one posted at the Chimneys, one at the mouth of the Mercy, and the third upon the islet, to hinder, or at least, retard, every attempt to land. We have two carbines and four guns, so that each of us will be armed; and as we have plenty of powder and ball, we will not spare our shots. We have nothing to fear from the guns, nor even from the cannon of the brig. What can they effect against these rocks? And as we shall not shoot from the windows of Granite House, the pirates will never think of turning their guns upon it. What we have to fear is a hand-to-hand fight with an enemy greatly superior in numbers. We must try to prevent their landing without showing ourselves. So don’t spare your ammunition. Shoot fast, and shoot straight. Each of us has eight or ten enemies to kill, and must kill them.”

Smith had precisely defined the situation, in a voice as quiet as if he were directing some ordinary work. His companions acted upon his proposal without a word. Each hastened to take his place before the mist should be entirely dissipated.

Neb and Pencroff went back to Granite House and brought back thence abundance of ammunition. Spilett and Ayrton, both excellent shots, were armed with the two carbines, which would carry nearly a mile. The four shot-guns were divided between Smith, Neb, Pencroff, and Herbert. The posts were thus filled:—Smith and Herbert remained in ambush at the Chimneys, commanding a large radius of the shore in front of Granite House. Spilett and Neb hid themselves among the rocks at the mouth of the Mercy (the bridge and causeways over which had been removed), so as to