The Mysterious Island, Jules Verne [freenovel24 txt] 📗

faithful to the precept, they first helped themselves, and Heaven helped them accordingly.

In the evenings, during this warm summer weather, after the day’s work was ended, and when the sea breeze was springing up, the colonists loved to gather together on the edge of Prospect Plateau in an arbor of Neb’s building, covered with climbing plants. There they conversed and instructed each other, and planned for the future; or the rough wit of the sailor amused this little world, in which the most perfect harmony had never ceased to reign.

They talked, too, of their country, dear and grand America. In what condition was the Rebellion? It certainly could not have continued. Richmond had, doubtless, soon fallen into General Grant’s hands. The capture of the Confederate capital was necessarily the last act in that unhappy struggle. By this time the North must have triumphed. How a newspaper would have been welcomed by the colonists of Lincoln Island! It was eleven months since all communication between them and the rest of the world had been interrupted, and pretty soon, the 24th of March, the anniversary of the day when the balloon had thrown them on this unknown coast, would have arrived. Then they were castaways, struggling with the elements for life. Now thanks to the knowledge of their leader, thanks to their own intelligence, they were true colonists, furnished with arms, tools, instruments, who had turned to their use the animals, vegetables and minerals of the island, the three kingdoms of nature.

As to Smith, he listened to the conversation of his companions oftener than he spoke himself. Sometimes he smiled at some thought of Herbert’s, or some sally of Pencroff’s, but always and above all other things, he reflected upon those inexplicable events, upon that strange enigma whose secret still escaped him.

XXXI

Bad weather⁠—The hydraulic elevator⁠—Making window glass and tableware⁠—The bread tree⁠—Frequent visits to the corral⁠—The increase of the herd⁠—The reporter’s question⁠—The exact position of Lincoln Island⁠—Pencroff’s proposal.

The weather changed during the first week in March. There was a full moon in the beginning of the month, and the heat was excessive. The electricity in the air could be felt, and the stormy weather was at hand. On the 2nd the thunder was very violent, the wind came out east, and the hail beat against the front of Granite House, pattering like a volley of musketry. It was necessary to fasten the doors and shutters in order to keep the rooms from being inundated. Some of the hailstones were as large as pigeons’ eggs, and made Pencroff think of his cornfield. He instantly ran there, and by covering the tiny young sprouts with a large cloth was able to protect them. The sailor was well pelted, but he did not mind that.

The stormy weather lasted for eight days, and the thunder was almost continuous. The heavens were full of lightning, and many trees in the forest were struck, and also a huge pine growing upon the border of the lake. Two or three times the electric fluid struck the beach, melting and vitrifying the sand. Finding these fulgurites, Smith conceived the idea that it would be possible to furnish the windows of Granite House with glass thick and solid enough to resist the wind and rain and hail.

The colonists, having no immediate out-of-doors work, profited by the bad weather to complete and perfect the interior arrangements of Granite House. The engineer built a lathe with which they were able to turn some toilette articles and cooking utensils, and also some buttons, the need of which had been pressing. They also made a rack for the arms, which were kept with the utmost care. Nor was Jup forgotten; he occupied a chamber apart, a sort of cabin with a frame always full of good bedding, which suited him exactly.

“There’s no such thing as faultfinding with Jup,” said Pencroff. “What a servant he is, Neb!”

“He is my pupil and almost my equal!”

“He’s your superior,” laughed the sailor, “as you can talk, Neb, and he cannot!”

Jup had by this time become perfectly familiar with all the details of his work. He brushed the clothes, turned the spit, swept the rooms, waited at table, and⁠—what delighted Pencroff⁠—never laid down at night before he had tucked the worthy sailor in his bed.

As to the health of the colony, bipeds and bimana, quadrupeds and quadrumana, it left nothing to be desired. With the out-of-doors work, on this salubrious soil, under this temperate zone, laboring with head and hand, they could not believe that they could ever be sick, and all were in splendid health. Herbert had grown a couple of inches during the year; his figure had developed and knitted together, and he promised to become a fine man physically and morally. He profited by the lessons which he learned practically and from the books in the chest, and he found in the engineer and the reporter masters pleased to teach him. It was the engineer’s desire to teach the lad all he himself knew.

“If I die,” thought Smith, “he will take my place.”

The storm ended on the 9th of March, but the sky remained clouded during the remainder of the month, and, with the exception of two or three fine days, rainy or foggy.

About this time a little onager was born, and a number of moufflons, to the great joy of Neb and Herbert, who had each their favorites among these newcomers.

The domestication of piccaries was also attempted⁠—a pen being built near the poultry-yard, and a number of the young animals placed therein under Neb’s care. Jup was charged with taking them their daily nourishment, the kitchen refuse, and he acquitted himself conscientiously of the task. He did, indeed, cut off their tails, but this was a prank and not naughtiness, because those little twisted appendages amused him like a toy, and his instinct was that of a child.

One day in March, Pencroff, talking with the engineer, recalled to his mind a promise