 Gideon's Spillet was standing motionless on the shore, his arms crossed, gazing over the sea, the horizon of which was lost towards the east in a thick black cloud which was spreading rapidly towards the zenith. The wind was already strong, and increased with the decline of day. The whole sky was of a threatening aspect, and the first symptoms of a violent storm were clearly visible. Herbert entered the chimneys, and Pencroft went towards the reporter. The latter, deeply absorbed, did not see him approach. We are going to have a dirty night, Mr. Spillet, said the sailor. Petrol's delight in wind and rain. The reporter, turning at the moment, saw Pencroft, and his first words were, At what distance from the coast would you say the car was, when the waves carried off our companion? The sailor had not expected this question. He reflected an instant and replied, Two cables' lengths at the most. But what is a cable's length? Asked he and Spillet. About a hundred and twenty fathoms, or six hundred feet. Then said the reporter, Cyrus Harding must have disappeared twelve hundred feet at the most from the shore. About that, replied Pencroft, and his dog also? Also. What astonishes me, rejoined the reporter, while admitting that our companion has perished, is that Toppe has also met his death, and that neither the body of the dog nor of his master has been cast on the shore. It is not astonishing with such a heavy sea, replied the sailor. Besides, it is possible the currents have carried them farther down the coast. Then it is your opinion that our friend has perished in the waves? Again asked the reporter. That is my opinion. My own opinion, said Gideon Spillet, with due deference to your experience, Pencroft, is that in the double fact of the absolute disappearance of Cyrus and Toppe, living or dead, there is something unaccountable and unlikely. I wish I could think like you, Mr. Spillet, replied Pencroft. Unhappily, my mind is made up on this point. Having said this, the sailor returned to the chimneys. A good fire crackled on the hearth. Herbert had just thrown on an armful of dry wood, and the flame cast a bright light into the darkest parts of the passage. Pencroft immediately began to prepare the dinner. It appeared best to introduce something solid into the bill of fare, for all needed to get up their strength. The strings of kurakus were kept for the next day, but they plucked a couple of grouse, which were soon spitted on a stick, and roasting before a blazing fire. At seven in the evening Neb had not returned. The prolonged absence of the negro made Pencroft very uneasy. It was to be feared that he had met with an accident on this unknown land, or that the unhappy fellow had been driven to some act of despair. But Herbert drew very different conclusions from this absence. According to him, Neb's delay was caused by some new circumstances which had induced him to prolong his search. Also everything new must be to the advantage of Cyrus Harding. Why had Neb not returned unless hope still detained him? Perhaps he had found some mark, a footstep, a trace which had put him in the right path. Perhaps he was at this moment on a certain track. Perhaps even he was near his master. Thus the lad reasoned. Thus he spoke. His companions let him talk. The reporter alone approved with a gesture. But what Pencroft thought most probable was that Neb had pushed his researches on the shore farther than the day before, and that he had not as yet had time to return. Herbert however agitated by vague presentiments, several times manifested an intention to go to meet Neb. But Pencroft assured him that that would be a useless course, that in the darkness and deplorable weather he could not find any traces of Neb, and that it would be much better to wait. If Neb had not made his appearance by the next day, Pencroft would not hesitate to join him in his search. Gideon Spillett approved of the sailor's opinion that it was best not to divide, and Herbert was obliged to give up his project, but two large tears fell from his eyes. The reporter could not refrain from embracing the generous boy. Bad weather now set in. A furious gale from the southeast passed over the coast. The sea roared as it beat over the reef. Heavy rain was dashed by the storm into particles like dust. Ragged masses of vapor drove along the beach, on which the tormented shingles sounded as if poured out in cartloads, while the sand raised by the wind added, as it were, mineral dust to that which was liquid, and rendered the United Attack insupportable. Between the river's mouth and the end of the cliff, eddies of wind whirled and gusts from this maelstrom lashed the water which ran through the narrow valley. The smoke from the fireplace was also driven back through the opening, filling the passages and rendering them uninhabitable. Before as the grouse were cooked, Pencroft let the fire die away and only preserved a few embers buried under the ashes. At eight o'clock Neb had not appeared, but there was no doubt that the frightful weather alone hindered his return, and that he must have taken refuge in some cave to await the end of the storm or at least the return of day, as to going to meet him or attempting to find him it was impossible. The game constituted the only dish at supper. The meat was excellent, and Pencroft and Herbert, whose long excursion had rendered them very hungry, devoured it with infinite satisfaction. Their meal concluded, each retired to the corner in which he had rested the preceding night, and Herbert was not long in going to sleep near the sailor, who had stretched himself beside the fireplace. And as the night advanced, the tempest also increased in strength, until it was equal to that which had carried the prisoners from Richmond to this land in the Pacific. The tempests which are frequent during the seasons of the equinox, and which are so prolific in catastrophes, are above all terrible over this immense ocean which opposes no obstacle to their fury. No description can give an idea of the terrific violence of the gale as it beat upon the unprotected coast. Happily the pile of rocks which formed the chimneys was solid. It was composed of enormous blocks of granite, a few of which, insecurely balanced, seemed to tremble on their foundations, and Pencroft could feel rapid quiverings under his head as it rested on the rock. But he repeated to himself, and rightly, that there was nothing to fear, and that their retreat would not give way. However he heard the noise of stones torn from the summit of the plateau by the wind, falling down on to the beach. A few even rolled on to the upper part of the chimneys, or flew off in fragments when they were projected perpendicularly. Twice the sailor rose and entrenched himself at the opening of the passage, so as to take a look in safety at the outside. But there was nothing to be feared from these showers, which were not considerable, and he returned to his couch before the fireplace, where the embers glowed beneath the ashes. Notwithstanding the fury of the hurricane, the uproar of the tempest, the thunder and the tumult, Herbert slept profoundly. Sleep at last took possession of Pencroft, whom a seafaring life had habituated to anything. Gideon's spill of the loan was kept awake by anxiety. He reproached himself with not having accompanied Ned. It was evident that he had not abandoned all hope. The presentiments which had troubled Herbert did not cease to agitate him also. His thoughts were concentrated on Neb. Why had Neb not returned? He tossed about on his sandy couch, scarcely giving a thought to the struggle of the elements. Now and then, his eyes, heavy with fatigue, closed for an instant, but some sudden thought reopened them almost immediately. Meanwhile the night advanced, and it was perhaps two hours from morning, when Pencroft then sound asleep was vigorously shaken. What's the matter? He cried, rousing himself, and collecting his ideas with a promptitude usual to seaman. The reporter was leaning over him and saying, Listen, Pencroft, listen! The sailor strained his ears, but could hear no noise beyond those caused by the storm. It is the wind, said he. No, replied Gideon's spill at listening again. I thought, I heard. What? The barking of a dog. A dog! cried Pencroft, springing up. Yes, barking. It's not possible, replied the sailor. And besides, how, in the roaring of the storm— Stop! Listen, said the reporter. Pencroft listened more attentively, and really thought he heard, during a lull, distant barking. Well, said the reporter, pressing the sailor's hand. Yes! replied Pencroft. It's top! It's top! Cried Herbert, who had just awoke, and all three rushed towards the opening of the chimneys. They had great difficulty in getting out. The wind drove them back, but at last they succeeded, and could only remain standing by leaning against the rocks. They looked about, but could not speak. The darkness was intense. The sea, the sky, the land were all mingled in one black mass. Not a speck of light was visible. The reporter and his companions remained thus for a few minutes, overwhelmed by the wind, drenched by the rain, blinded by the sand. Then in a pause of the tumult, they again heard the barking, which they found must be at some distance. It could only be top! But was he alone or accompanied? He was most probably alone, for if Ned had been with him, he would have made his way more directly towards the chimneys. The sailor squeezed the reporter's hand, for he could not make himself heard, in a way which signified, wait! Then he re-entered the passage. An instant after he issued with a lighted faggot, which he threw into the darkness whistling shrilly. It appeared as if this signal had been waited for. The barking immediately came nearer, and soon a dog bounded into the passage. Pencroft, Herbert, and Spillett entered after him. An armful of dry wood was thrown on the embers. The passage was lighted up with a bright flame. It is top! cried Herbert. It was indeed top! A magnificent Anglo-Norman, who derived from these two races, crossed the swiftness of foot and the acuteness of smell, which are the preeminent qualities of coursing dogs. It was the dog of the engineer, Cyrus Harding. But he was alone. Neither Nab nor his master accompanied him. How was it that his instinct had guided him straight to the chimneys, which he did not know? It appeared inexplicable, above all, in the midst of this black night, and in such a tempest. But what was still more inexplicable was, that top was neither tired, nor exhausted, nor even soiled with mud or sand. Herbert had drawn him towards him, and was patting his head, the dog rubbing his neck against the lad's hands. If the dog is found, the master will be found also, said the reporter. God-granted, responded Herbert. Let us set off! Top will guide us! Pencroft did not make any objection. He felt that Top's arrival contradicted his conjectures. Come along, then, said he. Pencroft carefully covered the embers on the hearth. He placed a few pieces of wood among them, so as to keep in the fire until their return. Then proceeded by the dog, who seemed to invite them by short barks to come with them, and followed by the reporter and the boy, he dashed out after having put up in his handkerchief the remains of the supper. The storm was then in all its violence, and perhaps at its height, not a single ray of light from the moon pierced through the clouds, to follow a straight course was difficult. It was best to rely on Top's instinct. They did so. The reporter and Herbert walked behind the dog, and the sailor brought up the rear. It was impossible to exchange a word. The rain was not very heavy, but the wind was terrific. However, one circumstance favored the seaman and his two companions. The wind being southeast constantly blew on their backs. The clouds of sand, which otherwise would have been insupportable, from being received behind, did not in consequence impede their progress. In short, they sometimes went faster than they liked, and had some difficulty in keeping their feet. But hope gave them strength, for it was not at random that they made their way along the shore. They had no doubt that Neb had found his master, and that he had sent them the faithful dog. But was the engineer living? Or had Neb only sent for his companions that they might render the last duties to the corpse of the unfortunate Harding? After having passing the precipice, Herbert, the reporter, and Pencroft prudently stepped aside to stop and take breath. The turn of the rocks sheltered them from the wind, and they could breathe after this walk or rather run of a quarter of an hour. They could now hear and reply to each other, and the lad having pronounced the name of Cyrus Harding, Top gave a few short barks, as much as to say that his master was saved. Saved, isn't he? repeated Herbert. Saved Top? And the dog barked in reply. They once more set out. The tide began to rise, and urged by the wind it threatened to be unusually high as it was a spring tide. Great billows thundered against the reef with such violence that they probably passed entirely over the islet, then quite invisible. The mole no longer protected the coast, which was directly exposed to the attacks of the open sea. As soon as the sailor and his companions left the precipice, the wind struck them again with renewed fury. Though bent under the gale, they walked very quickly, following Top, who did not hesitate as to what direction to take. They ascended towards the north, having on their left an interminable extent of billows, which broke with a deafening noise, and on their right a dark country, the aspect of which it was impossible to guess. But they felt that it was comparatively flat, for the wind passed completely over them, without being driven back as it was when it came in contact with the cliff. At four o'clock in the morning they reckoned that they had cleared about five miles. The clouds were slightly raised, and the wind, though less damp, was very sharp and cold. Insufficiently protected by their clothing, Pencroft, Herbert, and Spillett suffered cruelly, but not a complaint escaped their lips. They were determined to follow Top wherever the intelligent animal wished to lead them. Towards five o'clock day began to break. At the zenith where the fog was less thick, gray shades bordered the clouds. Under an opaque belt a luminous line clearly traced the horizon. The crests of the billows were tipped with a wild light, and the foam regained its whiteness. At the same time on the left the hilly parts of the coast could be seen, though very indistinctly. At six o'clock day had broken. The clouds rapidly lifted. The seaman and his companions were then about six miles from the chimneys. They were following a very flat shore, bounded by a reef of rocks, whose heads scarcely emerged from the sea, for they were in deep water. On the left the country appeared to be one vast extent of sandy downs, bristling with thistles. There was no cliff, and the shore offered no resistance to the ocean but a chain of irregular hillocks. Here and there grew two or three trees, inclined towards the west, their branches projecting in that direction. Quite behind, in the southwest, extended the border of the forest. At this moment Toppe became very excited. He ran forward, then returned, and seemed to entreat them to hasten their steps. The dog then left the beach, and guided by his wonderful instinct, without showing the least hesitation, went straight in among the downs. They followed him. The country appeared an absolute desert. Not a living creature was to be seen. The downs, the extent of which was large, were composed of hillocks and even of hills very irregularly distributed. They resembled a Switzerland modeled in sand, and only an amazing instinct could have possibly recognized the way. Five minutes after having left the beach, the reporter and his two companions arrived at a sort of excavation, hollowed out at the back of a high mound. There Toppe stopped, and gave a loud clear bark. Spillet, Herbert, and Pencroft dashed into the cave. Neve was there, kneeling beside a body extended on a bend of grass. The body was that of the engineer, Cyrus Harding. End of chapter. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne. Part 1 Chapter 8 Neve did not move. Pencroft only uttered one word. Living! He cried. Neve did not reply. Spillet and the sailor turned pale. Herbert clasped his hands and remained motionless. The poor negro exorbed in his grief, evidently had neither seen his companions nor heard the sailor speak. The reporter knelt down beside the motionless body and placed his ear to the engineer's chest, having first torn open his clothes. A minute, an age passed, during which he endeavored to catch the faintest throb of the heart. Neve had raised himself a little and gazed without seeing. Despair had completely changed his countenance. He could scarcely be recognized, exhausted with fatigue, broken with grief. He believed his master was dead. Gideon spillet at last rose, after long and a tent of examination. "'He lives!' said he. Pencroft knelt in his turn beside the engineer. He also heard a throbbing, and even felt a slight breath on his cheek. Herbert had a word from the reporter ran out to look for water. He found, a hundred feet off, a limpid stream, which seemed to have been greatly increased by the rains, and which filtered through the sand. But nothing in which to put the water, not even a shell, among the downs. The lab was obliged to contend himself with dipping his handkerchief in the stream, and with it hastened back to the grotto. Happily the wet handkerchief was enough for Gideon spillet, who only wished to wet the engineer's lips. The cold water produced an almost immediate effect. His chest heaved, and he seemed to try to speak. "'We will save him,' exclaimed the reporter. At these words hope revived in Neb's heart. He undressed his master to see if he was wounded. But not so much as a bruise was to be found, either on the head, body, or limbs, which was surprising, as he must have been dashed against the rocks. Even the hands were uninjured, and it was difficult to explain how the engineer showed no traces of the efforts which he must have made to get out of reach of the breakers. But the explanation would come later. When Cyrus was able to speak he would say what had happened. For the present the question was how to recall him to life, and it appeared likely that rubbing would bring this about, so they set to work with the sailor's jersey. The engineer, revived by this rude shampooing, moved his arms slightly and began to breathe more regularly. He was sinking from exhaustion, and certainly had not the reporter and his companions arrived. It would have been all over with Cyrus Harding. "'You thought your master was dead, didn't you?' said the seaman to Neb. "'Yes, quite dead,' replied Neb. And if Topp had not found you and brought you here, I should have buried my master, and then have laid down on his grave to die!' It had indeed been a narrow escape for Cyrus Harding. Neb then recounted what had happened. The day before, after having left the chimneys at daybreak, he had ascended the coast in a northerly direction, and then reached that part of the shore which he had already visited. There without any hope he acknowledged Neb had searched the beach, among the rocks, on the sand, for the smallest trace to guide him. He examined particularly that part of the beach which was not covered by the high tide, for near the sea the water would have obliterated all marks. Neb did not expect to find his master living. It was four corpse that he searched, a corpse which he wished to bury with his own hands. He sought long in vain. This desert coast appeared never to have been visited by a human creature. The shells, those which the sea had not reached, and which might be met with by millions above high water mark, were untouched. Not a shell was broken. Neb then resolved to walk along the beach for some miles. It was possible that the waves had carried the body to quite a distant point. When a corpse floats a little distance from a low shore, it rarely happens that the tide does not throw it up sooner or later. This Neb knew, and he wished to see his master again for the last time. I went along the coast for another two miles, carefully examining the beach both at high and low water, and I had despair to finding anything, when yesterday, about five in the evening, I saw footprints on the sand. Footprints, exclaimed Pencroft. Yes, replied Neb. Did these footprints begin at the water's edge? asked the reporter. No, replied Neb. Only above high water mark, for the others must have been washed out by the tide. Go on, Neb, said Spillet. I went half-crazy when I saw those footprints. They were very clear and went towards the downs. I followed them for a quarter of a mile, running, but taking care not to destroy them. Five minutes after, as it was getting dark, I heard the barking of a dog. It was Top, and Top brought me here to my master. Neb ended his account by saying what had been his grief at finding the inanimate body, in which he vainly sought for the least sign of life. Now that he had found him dead, he longed for him to be alive. While his efforts were useless, nothing remained to be done but to render the last duties to the one whom he had loved so much. Neb then thought of his companions. They, no doubt, would wish to see the unfortunate man again. Top was there. Could he not rely on the sagacity of the faithful animal? Neb several times pronounced the name of the reporter, the one among his companions whom Top knew best. Then he pointed to the south, and the dog bounded off in the direction indicated to him. We have heard how, guided by an instinct which might be looked upon almost as supernatural, Top had found them. Neb's companions had listened with great attention to this account. It was unaccountable to them how Cyrus Harding, after the efforts which he must have made to escape from the waves by crossing the rocks, had not received even a scratch. And what could not be explained, either, was how the engineer had managed to get to this cave and the downs more than a mile from the shore. So, Neb, said the reporter, it was not you who brought your master to this place. No, it was not I, replied the Negro. It's very clear that the captain came here by himself, said Pencroft. It is clear in reality, observed Spillet, but it is not credible. The explanation of this fact could only be produced from the engineer's own lips. And they must wait for that till speech returned. Rubbing had re-established the circulation of the blood. Cyrus Harding moved his arm again, then his head, and a few incomprehensible words escaped him. Neb, who was bending over him, spoke. But the engineer did not appear to hear, and his eyes remained closed. Life was only exhibited in him by movement. His senses had not as yet been restored. Pencroft much regretted not having either fire or the means of procuring it, for he had, unfortunately, forgotten to bring the burnt linen, which would easily have ignited from the sparks produced by striking together two flints. As to the engineer's pockets, they were entirely empty, except that of his waistcoat which contained his watch. It was necessary to carry Harding to the chimneys, and that as soon as possible. This was the opinion of all. Meanwhile, the care which was lavished on the engineer brought him back to consciousness sooner than they could have expected. The water with which they wedded his lips revived him gradually. Pencroft also thought of mixing with the water some moisture from the Tetris flesh which he had brought. Herbert ran to the beach and returned with two large bivalve shells. The sailor concocted something which he introduced between the lips of the engineer, who eagerly drinking it opened his eyes. Neb and the reporter were leaning over him. "'My master, my master!' cried Neb. The engineer heard him. He recognized Neb and spill it than his other two companions, and his hand slightly pressed theirs. A few words again escaped him, which showed what thoughts were, even then troubling his brain. This time he was understood. Undoubtedly they were the same words he had at before attempted to utter. "'Island or continent?' he murmured. "'Bother the continent!' cried Pencroft hastily. There is time enough to see about that, Captain. We don't care for anything provided you are living.' The engineer nodded faintly, and then appeared to sleep. They respected this sleep, and the reporter began immediately to make arrangements for transporting Harding to a more comfortable place. Neb, Herbert, and Pencroft left the cave and directed their steps towards a high mound crowned with a few distorted trees. On the way the sailor could not help repeating. "'Island or continent?' To think of that would at one's last gasp! What a man!' Arrived at the summit of the mound, Pencroft and his two companions set to work, with no other tools than their hands, to despoil of its principal branches a rather sickly tree, a sort of marine fur, with these branches they made a litter on which, covered with grass and leaves, they could carry the engineer. This occupied them nearly forty minutes, and it was ten o'clock when they returned to Cyrus Harding, whom Spillett had not left. The engineer was just awaking from the sleep, or rather from the drowsiness in which they had found him. The colour was returning to his cheeks, which till now had been as pale as death. He raised himself a little, looked around him, and appeared to ask where he was. "'Can you listen to me without fatigue, Cyrus?' asked the reporter. "'Yes,' replied the engineer. "'It's my opinion,' said the sailor. "'The captain Harding will be able to listen to you still better if he will have some more grouse jelly. For we have grouse, captain,' added he, presenting him with a little of this jelly, to which he had this time added some of the flesh. Cyrus Harding ate a little of the grouse, and the rest was divided among his companions, who found it but a meager breakfast, for they were suffering extremely from hunger. "'Well,' said the sailor, "'there's plenty of food at the chimneys, for you must know, captain, that down there in the south we have a house with rooms, beds, and fireplace, and in the pantry several dozen of birds which our Herbert calls kurakus. Your litter is ready, and as soon as you feel strong enough we will carry you home.' "'Thanks, my friend,' replied the engineer. "'Wait another hour or two, and then we will set out. And now speak, spill it.' The reporter then told him all that had occurred. He recounted all the events with which Cyrus was unacquainted, the last fall of the balloon, the landing on this unknown land which appeared a desert, whatever it was, whether island or continent. The discoverer of the chimneys, the search for him, not forgetting, of course, Neb's devotion, the intelligence exhibited by the faithful top, as well as many other matters. "'But,' asked Harding, in a still feeble voice, "'you did not then pick me up on the beach?' "'No,' replied the reporter. "'And did you not bring me to this cave?' "'No.' "'At what distance is this cave from the sea?' "'About a mile,' replied Pencroft. "'And if you are a astonished captain, we are not less surprised ourselves at seeing you in this place.' "'Indeed,' said the engineer, who was recovering gradually, and who took great interest in these details. "'Indeed it is very singular.' "'But,' resumed the sailor, "'can you tell us what happened after you were carried off by the sea?' Cyrus Harding considered. He knew very little. The wave had torn him from the balloon net. He sank at first several fathoms. On returning to the surface, in the half-light, he felt a living creature struggling near him. It was Topp who had sprung to his help. He saw nothing of the balloon which, lightened both of his weight and that of the dog, had darted away like an arrow. There he was, in the midst of the angry sea, at a distance which could not be less than a half-mile from the shore. He attempted to struggle against the billows by swimming vigorously. Topp held him up by his clothes, but a strong current seized him and drove him towards the north, and after half an hour of exertion he sank, dragging Topp with him into the depths. From that moment to the moment in which he recovered to find himself in the arms of his friends, he remembered nothing. "'However,' remarked Pencroft, "'you must have been thrown on to the beach, and you must have had strength to walk here, since Neb found your foot-marks.' "'Yes. Of course,' replied the engineer thoughtfully. "'And you have found no traces of human beings on this coast?' "'Not a trace,' replied the reporter. "'Besides, if by chance you had met with some deliverer there just in the nick of time, why should he have abandoned you after having saved you from the waves?' "'You were right, my dear Spillet. Call me, Neb,' added the engineer, turning to his servant. "'It was not you who—' "'You can't have had a moment of unconsciousness during—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' "'—' just now, my dear spillet. We will talk about it by and by." A moment after the others entered. There was no doubt about it. The engineer's shoe fitted exactly to the foot-marks. It was therefore Cyrus Harding who had left them on the sand. "'Come,' said he, "'I must have experienced this unconsciousness which I attributed to Neb. I must have walked like a somnambulist, without any knowledge of my steps, and Top must have guided me here, after having dragged me from the ways. Come, Top, come, old dog!' The magnificent animal bounded barking to his master, and caresses were lavished on him. It was agreed that there was no other way of accounting for the rescue of Cyrus Harding, and that Top deserved all the honour of the affair. Since twelve o'clock, Pencroft, having asked the engineer if they could now remove him, Harding, instead of replying, and by an effort which exhibited the most energetic will, got up. But he was obliged to lean on the sailor or he would have fallen. "'Well done,' cried Pencroft. Bring the captain's litter.' The litter was brought. The transverse branches had been covered with leaves and long grass. Harding was laid on it, and Pencroft, having taken his place at one end, and Neb at the other, they started towards the coast. There was a distance of eight miles to be accomplished, but as they could not go fast and it would perhaps be necessary to stop frequently, they reckoned that it would take at least six hours to reach the chimneys. The wind was still strong, but fortunately it did not rain. Although lying down, the engineer leaning on his elbow, observed the coast, particularly inland. He did not speak, but he gazed, and no doubt the appearance of the country, with its inequalities of ground, its forests, its various productions, were impressed on his mind. However, after travelling for two hours fatigue overcame him, and he slept. At half-past five the little band arrived at the precipice and a short time after at the chimneys. They stopped, and the litter was placed on the sand. Cyrus Harding was sleeping profoundly and did not awake. Pencroft, to his extreme surprise, found that the terrible storm had quite altered the aspect of the place. Important changes had occurred. Great blocks of stone lay on the beach, which was also covered with a thick carpet of seaweed, algae, and rack. Evidently the sea passing over the islet had been carried right up to the foot of the enormous curtain of granite. The soil in front of the cave had been torn away by the violence of the waves. A horrid presentiment flashed across Pencroft's mind. He rushed into the passage, but returned almost immediately and stood motionless, staring at his companions. The fire was out. The drowned cinders were nothing but mud. The burnt linen, which was to have served as tinder, had disappeared. The sea had penetrated to the end of the passages, and everything was overthrown and destroyed in the interior of the chimneys. CHAPTER IX In a few words Gideon Spillett, Herbert, and Nebb were made acquainted with what had happened. This accident, which appeared so very serious to Pencroft, produced different effects on the companions of the honest sailor. Nebb, in his delight at having found his master, did not listen or rather did not care to trouble himself with what Pencroft was saying. Herbert shared in some degree the sailor's feelings. As to the reporter, he simply replied, Upon my word, Pencroft is perfectly indifferent to me. But I repeat that we haven't any fire. Poo! Nor any means of relighting it. Nonsense! But I say, Mr. Spillett, Isn't Cyrus here? replied the reporter. Is not our engineer alive? He will soon find some way of making fire for us. With what? With nothing. What had Pencroft to say? He could say nothing for, in the bottom of his heart, he shared the confidence which his companions had in Cyrus Harding. The engineer was to them a microcosm, a compound of every science, a possessor of all human knowledge. It was better to be with Cyrus in a desert island than without him in the most flourishing town in the United States. With him they could want nothing. With him they would never despair. If these brave men had been told that a volcanic eruption would destroy the land, that this land would be engulfed in the depths of the Pacific, they would have impotverbably replied, Cyrus is here. While in the Palenken, however, the engineer had again relapsed into unconsciousness, which the jolting to which he had been subjected during his journey had brought on, so that they could not now appeal to his ingenuity. The supper must necessarily be very meagre. In fact, all the grouse flesh had been consumed, and there no longer existed any means of cooking more game. Besides, the crocus which had been reserved had disappeared, they must consider what was to be done. First of all, Cyrus Harding was carried into the central passage. There they managed to arrange for him a couch of seaweed which still remained almost dry. The deep sleep which had overpowered him would no doubt be more beneficial to him than any nourishment. Night had closed in, and the temperature, which had modified when the wind shifted to the northwest, again became extremely cold. Also, the sea having destroyed the partitions which Pencroft had put up in certain places in the passage, the chimneys on account of the drafts, had become scarcely habitable. The engineer's condition would, therefore, have been bad enough if his companions had not carefully covered him with their coats and waistcoats. Supper, this evening, was of course composed of the inevitable lithodomes, of which Herbert and Neve picked up a plentiful supply on the beach. However, to these mollusks, the lad added some edible seaweed which he gathered on high rocks, whose sides were only washed by the sea at the time of high tides. This seaweed, which belongs to the order of Fukase, of the genus Sargasum, produces when dry a gelatinous matter rich and nutritious. The reporter and his companions, after having eaten a quantity of lithodomes, sucked the Sargasum, of which the taste was very tolerable. It is used in parts of the east very considerably by the natives. Never mind, said the sailor, the captain will help us soon. Meanwhile, the cold became very severe, and unhappily they had no means of defending themselves from it. The sailor, extremely vexed, tried in all sorts of ways to procure fire. Neve helped him in this work. He found some dry moss, and by striking together two pebbles he obtained some sparks. But the moss, not being inflammable enough, did not take fire, for the sparks were really only incandescent and not at all of the same consistency as those which are emitted from flint when struck in the same manner. The experiment, therefore, did not succeed. Pencroft, although he had no confidence in the proceeding, then tried rubbing two pieces of dry wood together as savages do. Certainly the movement which he and Neve exhibited, if it had been transformed into heat, according to the new theory, would have been enough to heat the boiler of a steamer. It came to nothing. The bits of wood became hot, to be sure, but much less so than the operators themselves. After working an hour, Pencroft, who was in a complete state of perspiration, threw down the pieces of wood and discussed. I can never be made to believe that savages light their fires in this way, let them say what they will, he exclaimed. I could sooner light my arms by rubbing them against each other. The sailor was wrong to despise the proceeding. Savages often kindle wood by means of rapid rubbing. But every sort of wood does not answer for the purpose, and besides there is the knack, following the usual expression, and it is probable that Pencroft had not the knack. Pencroft's ill humour did not last long. Herbert had taken the bits of wood which he had thrown down, and was exerting himself to rub them. The hardy sailor could not restrain a burst of laughter on seeing the efforts of the lad to succeed where he had failed. Rub, my boy, rub, said he. I am rubbing, replied Herbert, laughing, but I don't pretend to do anything else but warm myself instead of shivering, and soon I shall be as hot as you are, my good Pencroft. This soon happened. However they were obliged to give up, for this night at least, the attempt to procure fire. Gideon's spillet repeated, for the twentieth time, that Savas Harding would not have been troubled for so small a difficulty. And in the meantime he stretched himself in one of the passages on his bed of sand. Herbert, Neb, and Pencroft did the same, while Topps slept at his master's feet. Next day, the twenty-eighth of March, when the engineer awoke, about eight in the morning, he saw his companions around him watching his sleep, and as on the day before his first words were, Island or continent. This was his uppermost thought. Well, replied Pencroft, we don't know anything about it, Captain. You don't know yet? But we shall know, rejoined Pencroft, when you have guided us into the country. I think I am able to try it, replied the engineer, who without much effort rose and stood upright. That's capital, cried the sailor. I feel dreadfully weak, replied Harding. Give me something to eat, my friends, and it will soon go off. You have fire, haven't you? This question was not immediately replied to. But in a few seconds. Alas, we have no fire, said Pencroft. Or rather, Captain, we have it no longer. And the sailor recounted all that had passed the day before. He amused the engineer by the history of the single match, then his abortive attempt to procure fire in the savage's way. We shall consider, replied the engineer, and if we do not find some substance similar to Tender. Well, asked the sailor. Well, we will make matches. Chemicals? Chemicals. It is not more difficult than that, cried the reporter, striking the sailor on the shoulder. The latter did not think it so simple, but he did not protest. All went out. The weather had become very fine. The sun was rising from the sea's horizon, and touched with golden spangles the prismatic rugossities of the huge precipice. Having thrown a rapid glance around him, the engineer seated himself on a block of stone. Herbert offered him a few handfuls of shellfish and sargassum, saying, It's all that we have, Captain Harding. Thanks, my boy, replied Harding. It will do, for this morning at least. He ate the wretched food with appetite, and washed it down with a little fresh water drawn from the river in an immense shell. His companions looked at him without speaking. Then, feeling somewhat refreshed, Cyrus Harding crossed his arms and said, So, my friends, you do not know yet whether fate has thrown us on an island or on a continent. No, Captain, replied the boy. We shall know to-morrow, said the engineer. Till then, there's nothing to be done. Yes, replied Pencroft. What? Fire, said the sailor, who also had a fixed idea. We will make it, Pencroft, replied Harding. While you were carrying me yesterday, did I not see in the west a mountain which commands the country? Yes, replied Spillett. A mountain which must be rather high. Well, replied the engineer. We will climb to the summit to-morrow, and then we shall see if this land is an island or a continent. Till then, I repeat, there is nothing to be done. Yes, fire, said the obstinate sailor again. But he will make us a fire, replied Gideon Spillett. Only have a little patience, Pencroft. The seamen looked at Spillett in a way which seemed to say, If it depended upon you to do it, we wouldn't taste roast meat very soon. But he was silent. Meanwhile Captain Harding had made no reply. He appeared to be very little troubled by the question of fire. For a few minutes he remained absorbed and thought, then again speaking. My friends, said he, Our situation is perhaps deplorable, but at any rate it is very plain. Either we are on a continent, and then at the expense of greater or less fatigue, we shall reach some inhabited place, or we are on an island. In the latter case, if the island is inhabited, we will try to get out of the scrape with the help of its inhabitants. If it is desert, we will try to get out of the scrape by ourselves. Certainly nothing could be plainer, replied Pencroft. But whether it is an island or a continent, asked Gideon Spillett, Whereabouts do you think, Cyrus, this storm has thrown us? I cannot say exactly, replied the engineer. But I presume it is some land in the Pacific. In fact, when we left Richmond, the wind was blowing from the northeast, and its very violence greatly proves that it could not have varied. If the direction has been maintained from the northeast to the southwest, we have traversed the states of North Carolina, of South Carolina, of Georgia, the Gulf of Mexico, Mexico itself, and its narrow part, then a part of the Pacific Ocean. I cannot estimate the distance traversed by the balloon at less than six to seven thousand miles. And even supposing that the wind had varied half a quarter, it must have brought us either to the archipelago of Mandava, either on the Pomatous, or even if it had a greater strength than I suppose to the land of New Zealand. If the last hypothesis is correct, it will be easy enough to get home again. English or Mayoris, we shall always find someone to whom we can speak. If on the contrary, this is the coast of a desert island and some tiny archipelago, perhaps we shall be able to reconnoiter it from the summit of that peak which overlooks the country, and then we shall see how best to establish ourselves here as if we are never to go away. Never, cried the reporter, you say never, my dear Cyrus. Better to put things at the worst at first, replied the engineer, and reserve the best for a surprise. Well said, remarked Pencroft, it is to be hoped, too, that this island, if it be one, is not situated just out of the course of ships. That would be really unlucky. We shall not know what we have to rely on till we have first made the ascent of the mountain, replied the engineer. But to-morrow, Captain, asked Herbert, shall you be in a state to bear the fatigue of the ascent? I hope so, replied the engineer, provided you and Pencroft, my boy, show yourselves quick and clever hunters. Captain, said the sailor, since you are speaking of game, if on my return I was as certain of roasting it as I am of bringing it back— Bring it back all the same, Pencroft, replied Harding. It was then agreed that the engineer and the reporter were to pass the day at the chimneys, so as to examine the shore and the upper plateau. Neb, Herbert and the sailor were to return to the forest, renew their store of wood, and lay violent hands on every creature feathered or hairy which might come within their reach. They set out accordingly about ten o'clock in the morning. Herbert confident, Neb joyous, Pencroft murmuring aside, if on my return I find a fire at the house, I shall believe that the thunder itself came to light it. All three climbed the bank, and arrived at the angle made by the river. The sailor, stopping, said to his two companions, shall we begin by being hunters or woodmen? Hunters, replied Herbert, there is top already in quest. We will hunt then, said the sailor, and afterwards we can come back and collect our wood. This agreed to, Herbert, Neb and Pencroft, after having torn three sticks from the trunk of a young fir, followed top who was bounding about among the long grass. This time the hunters, instead of following the course of the river, plunged straight into the heart of the forest. There were still the same trees belonging for the most part to the pine family. In certain places, less crowded, growing in clumps, these pines exhibited considerable dimensions, and appeared to indicate, by their development, that the country was situated in a higher latitude than the engineer had supposed. Glades, bristling with stumps worn away by time, were covered with dry wood, which formed an inexhaustible store of fuel. Then the glade passed, the underwood thickened again, and became almost impenetrable. It was difficult enough to find the way among the groups of trees without any beaten track, so the sailor from time to time broke off branches which might be easily recognized. But perhaps he was wrong not to follow the water course, as he and Herbert had done on their first excursion, for after walking an hour not a creature had shown itself. Top, running under the branches, only roused birds which could not be approached. Even the kurakus were invisible, and it was probable that the sailor would be obliged to return to the marshy part of the forest, in which he had so happily performed his grouse fishing. Well, Pencroft, said Nab, in a slightly sarcastic tone. If this is all the game which you promise to bring back to my master, it won't need a large fire to roast it. Have patience, replied the sailor. It isn't the game which we'll be wanting on our return. Have you not confidence in Captain Harding? Yes. But you don't believe that he will make fire? I shall believe it when the wood is blazing in the fireplace. It will blaze since my master has said so. We shall see. Meanwhile the sun had not reached the highest point in its course above the horizon. The exploration, therefore, continued, and was usefully marked by a discovery which Herbert made of a tree whose fruit was edible. This was the stone pine, which produces an excellent almond, very much esteemed in the temperate regions of America and Europe. These almonds were in his perfect state of maturity, and Herbert described them to his companions who feasted on them. Come, said Pencroft, see we by way of bread, raw muscles for meat, and almonds for dessert. That's certainly a good dinner for those who have not a single match in their pocket. We mustn't complain, said Herbert. I'm not complaining, my boy, replied Pencroft. Only I repeat that meat is a little too much economized in this sort of meal. Top has found something, cried Neb, who ran towards the thicket, in the midst of which the dog had disappeared, barking, with Top's barking were mingled curious gruntings. The sailor and Herbert had followed Neb. If there was game there, this was not the time to discuss how it was to be cooked, but rather how they were to get hold of it. The hunters had scarcely entered the bushes when they saw Top engaged in a struggle with an animal which he was holding by the ear. This quadruped was a sort of pig, nearly two feet and a half long, of a blackish-brown color, lighter below, having hard scanty hair, its toes, then strongly fixed in the ground, seemed to be united by a membrane. Herbert recognized in this animal the capybara, that is to say, one of the largest members of the rodent order. Meanwhile the capybara did not struggle against the dog, its stupidly rolled its eyes, deeply buried in a thick bed of fat. Perhaps it saw men for the first time. However, Neb, having tightened his grasp on his stick, was just going to fell the pig, when the latter, tearing itself from Top's teeth, by which it was only held by the tip of its ear, uttered a vigorous grunt, rushed upon Herbert, almost over through him, and disappeared in the wood. The rascal cried Pencroft. All three directly darted after Top, but at the moment when they joined him the animal had disappeared under the waters of a large pond shaded by venerable pines. Neb, Herbert, and Pencroft stopped, motionless. Top plunged into the water, but the capybara, hidden at the bottom of the pond, did not appear. Let us wait, said the boy, for he will soon come to the surface to breathe. Won't he drown? asked Neb. No, replied Herbert, since he has web-feet and is almost an amphibious animal, but watch him. Top remained in the water. Pencroft and his two companions went to different parts of the bank, so as to cut off the retreat of the capybara, which the dog was looking for beneath the water. Herbert was not mistaken. In a few minutes the animal appeared on the surface of the water. Top was upon it in a bound, and kept it from plunging again. An instant later the capybara, dragged to the bank, was killed by a blow from Neb's stick. Hurrah! cried Pencroft, who was always ready with this cry of triumph. Give me but a good fire, and this pig shall be nod to the bones. Pencroft hoisted the capybara on his shoulders, and judging by the height of the sun that it was about two o'clock, he gave the signal to return. Top's instinct was useful to the hunters, who, thanks to the intelligent animal, were enabled to discover the road by which they had come. Half an hour later they arrived at the river. Pencroft soon made a raft of wood as he had done before, though if there was no fire it would be a useless task, and the raft following the current they returned towards the chimneys. But the sailor had not gone fifty paces when he stopped, and again uttering a tremendous hurrah, pointed towards the angle of the cliff. Hurrah! Neb! Look! he shouted. Smoke was escaping and curling up among the rocks. End of chapter This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne. Part 1, Chapter 10 In a few minutes the three hunters were before a crackling fire. The captain and the reporter were there. Pencroft looked from one to the other, his capybara in his hand, without saying a word. Well, yes, my brave fellow, cried the reporter, fire, real fire, which will roast this splendid pig perfectly, and we will have a feast presently. But who lighted it, asked Pencroft. The sun! Gideon Spillett was quite right in his reply. It was the sun which had furnished the heat which so astonished Pencroft the sailor could scarcely believe his eyes, and he was so amazed that he did not think of questioning the engineer. Had you a burning-glass, sir? asked Herbert of Harding. No, my boy, replied he. But I made one. And he showed the apparatus which served for a burning-glass. It was simply two glasses which he had taken from his own and the reporter's watches. Having filled them with water and rendered their edges adhesive by means of a little clay, he thus fabricated a regular burning-glass, which concentrating the solar rays on some very dry moss, soon caused it to blaze. The sailor considered the apparatus. Then he gazed at the engineer without saying a word. Only a look plainly expressed his opinion that if Cyrus Harding was not a magician he was certainly no ordinary man. At last speech returned to him, and he cried, Note that, Mr. Spillett, note that down on your paper. It is noted, replied the reporter. Then, Nedb helping him, the seamen arranged the spit, and the capybara, properly cleaned, was soon roasting like a suckling-pig before a clear crackling fire. The chimneys had again become more habitable, not only because the passages were warmed by the fire, but because the partitions of wood and mud had been re-established. It was evident that the engineer and his companions had employed their day well. Cyrus Harding had almost entirely recovered his strength, and it proved it by climbing to the upper plateau. From this point his eye, accustomed to estimate heights and distances, was fixed for a long time on the Cone, the summit of which he wished to reach the next day. The mountain, situated about six miles to the northwest, appeared to him to measure 3,500 feet above the level of the sea. Consequently, the gaze of an observer posted on its summit would extend over a radius of at least fifty miles. Therefore, it was probable that Harding could easily solve the question of island or continent, to which he attached so much importance. They supped capitally. The flesh of the capybara was declared excellent. Their sargassum and the almonds of the stone pine completed the re-past, during which the engineer spoke little. He was preoccupied with projects for the next day. Once or twice Pencroft gave forth some ideas upon what it would be best to do. But Cyrus Harding, who was evidently of a methodical mind, only shook his head without uttering a word. Tomorrow, he repeated, we shall know what we have to depend upon, and we will act according to the plan. We shall know what we have to depend upon, and we will act accordingly. The meal ended. Fresh armfuls of wood were thrown on the fire, and the inhabitants of the chimneys, including the faithful top, were soon buried in a deep sleep. No incident disturbed this peaceful night, and the next day, the 29th of March, fresh and active they awoke, ready to undertake the excursion which must determine their fate. All was ready for the start. The remains of the Capybara would be enough to sustain Harding and his companions for at least twenty-four hours. Besides, they hoped to find more food on the way. As the glasses had been returned to the watches of the engineer and reporter, Pencroft burned a little linen to serve as tinder. As to flint, that would not be wanting in these regions of plutonic origin. It was half past seven in the morning when the explorers, armed with sticks, left the chimneys. Following Pencroft's advice, it appeared best to take the road already traversed through the forest and to return by another route. It was also the most direct way to reach the mountain. They turned the south angle and followed the left bank of the river, which was abandoned at the point where it formed an elbow towards the southwest. The path already trodden under the evergreen trees was found, and at nine o'clock Cyrus Harding and his companions had reached the western border of the forest. The ground, till then, very little undulated, boggy at first, dry and sandy afterwards, had a gentle slope, which ascended from the shore towards the interior of the country. A few very timid animals were seen under the forest trees. Top quickly started them, but his master soon called him back, for the time had not come to commence hunting. That would be attended to later. The engineer was not a man who would allow himself to be diverted from his fixed idea. It might even have been said that he did not observe the country at all, either in its configuration or in its natural productions, his great aim being to climb the mountain before him, and therefore straight towards it he went. At ten o'clock a halt of a few minutes was made. On leaving the forest, the mountain system of the country appeared before the explorers. The mountain was composed of two cones. The first, truncated at a height of about two thousand five hundred feet, was sustained by buttresses, which appeared to branch out like the talons of an immense claw set on the ground. Between these were narrow valleys, bristling with trees, the last clumps of which rose to the top of the lowest cone. There appeared to be less vegetation on that side of the mountain which was exposed to the northeast, and deep fissures could be seen which, no doubt, were water-courses. On the first cone rested a second, slightly rounded, and placed a little on one side like a great round hat cocked over the ear. The Scotchman would have said, Is bonnet was a thought to gee? It appeared formed of bare earth, here and there pierced by reddish rocks. They wished to reach the second cone, and proceeding along the ridge of the spurs seemed the best way by which to gain it. We are on volcanic ground, Saras Harding had said, and his companions following him began to ascend by degrees on the back of a spur, which, by a winding and consequently more accessible path, joined the first plateau. The ground had evidently been convulsed by subterranean force. Here and there stray blocks, numerous debris of basalt and pumice stone, were met with. In isolated groups rose fir trees, which, some hundred feet lower, at the bottom of the narrow gorges, formed massive shades almost impenetrable to the sun's rays. During the first part of the ascent, Herbert remarked on the footprints which indicated the recent passage of large animals. Perhaps these beasts will not let us pass by willingly, said Pencroft. Well, replied the reporter, who had already hunted the tiger in India and the lion in Africa. We shall soon learn how successfully to encounter them. But in the meantime we must be upon our guard. They ascended but slowly. The distance increased by detours and obstacles which could not be surmounted directly was long. Sometimes, too, the ground suddenly fell and they found themselves on the edge of a deep chasm which they had to go round. Thus, in retracing their steps, so as to find some practicable path, much time was employed and fatigue undergone for nothing. At twelve o'clock, when the small band of adventurers halted for breakfast at the foot of a large group of furs, near a little stream which fell in cascades, they found themselves still half-way from the first plateau, which most probably they would not reach until nightfall. From this point the view of the sea was much extended, but on the right the high promontory prevented their seeing whether there was land beyond it. On the left the sight extended several miles to the north, but on the northwest, at the point occupied by the explorers, it was cut short by the ridge of a fantastically shaped spur which formed a powerful support of the central cone. At one o'clock the ascent was continued. They slanted more towards the southwest and again entered among thick bushes. There under the shade of the trees fluttered several couple of galanaceae belonging to the pheasant species. They were tragopans ornamented by a pendant's skin which hangs over their throats, and by two round horns planted behind the eyes. Among these birds, which were about the size of a fowl, the female was uniformly brown, while the male was gorgeous in his red plumage, decorated with white spots. Gideon Spillett, with a stone cleverly and vigorously thrown, killed one of these tragopans, on which Pencroft made hungry by the fresh air had cast greedy eyes. After leaving the region of bushes, the party, assisted by resting on each other's shoulders, climbed for about a hundred feet up a steep aclivity and reached a level place, with very few trees, where the soil appeared volcanic. It was necessary to ascend by zig-zags to make the slope more easy, for it was very steep, and the footing being exceedingly precarious required the greatest caution. Neb and Herbert took the lead, Pencroft the rear, the captain and the reporter between them. The animals which frequented these heights, and there were numerous traces of them, must necessarily belong to those races of sure foot and supple spine, chamois or goat. Several were seen, but this was not the name Pencroft gave them, for all of a sudden, sheep, he shouted. All stopped about fifty feet from half a dozen animals of a large size, with strong horns bent back and flattened toward the point, with a woolly fleece, hidden under long, silky hair of a tawny color. They were not ordinary sheep, but a species usually found in the mountainous regions of the temperate zone, to which Herbert gave the name of the Musmon. Have they legs and chops? asked the sailor. Yes, replied Herbert. Well, then, they are sheep! said Pencroft. The animals, motionless among the blocks of basalt, gazed with an astonish dye, as if they saw humid bipeds for the first time. Then their fears suddenly aroused, they disappeared, bounding over the rocks. Good-bye till we meet again! cried Pencroft as he watched them, in such a comical tone that Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spillett, Herbert and Neb could not help laughing. The ascent was continued. Here and there were traces of lava. Sulphur springs sometimes stopped their way, and they had to go round them. In some places the sulfur had formed crystals among other substances, such as whitish cinders made of an infinity of little felled spar crystals. In approaching the first plateau, formed by the truncating of the lower cone, the difficulties of the ascent were very great. Once four o'clock the extreme zone of the trees had been passed. There only remained here and there a few twisted, stunted pines, which must have had a hard life in resisting at this altitude, the high winds from the open sea. Happily for the engineer and his companions the weather was beautiful, the atmosphere tranquil, for a high breeze at an elevation of three thousand feet would have hindered their proceedings. The purity of the sky at the zenith was felt through the transparent air. A perfect calm rained around them. They could not see the sun, then hid by the vast screen of the upper cone, which masked the half horizon of the west, and whose enormous shadow stretching to the shore increased as the radiant luminary sank in its diurnal course. Vapors, mist rather than clouds, began to appear in the east and assume all the prismatic colors under the influence of the solar rays. Five hundred feet only separated the explorers from the plateau, which they wished to reach so as to establish there an encampment for the night. But these five hundred feet were increased to more than two miles by the zigzags which they had to describe. The soil, as it were, slid under their feet. The slope often presented such an angle that they slipped when the stones worn by the air did not give us sufficient support. Evening came on by degrees, and it was almost night when Cyrus Harding and his companions, much fatigued by an ascent of seven hours, arrived at the plateau of the first cone. It was then necessary to prepare an encampment and to restore their strength by eating first and sleeping afterwards. The second stage of the mountain rose on a base of rocks, among which it would be easy to find a retreat. Fuel was not abundant. However, a fire could be made by means of the moss and dry brushwood which covered certain parts of the plateau. While the sailor was preparing his hearth with stones which he put to this use, Nebb and Herbert occupied themselves with getting a supply of fuel. They soon returned with a load of brushwood. The steel was struck, the burnt linen caught the sparks of flint, and under Nebb's breath a crackling fire showed itself in a few minutes under the shelter of the rocks. Their object and lighting of fire was only to enable them to withstand the cold temperatures of the night, as it was not employed in cooking the bird which Nebb kept for the next day. The remains of the capybara and some dozens of the stone pine almonds formed their supper. It was not half past six when all was finished. Cyrus Harding then thought of exploring in the half-light, the large circular layer which supported the upper cone of the mountain. Before taking any rest he wished to know if it was possible to get round the base of the cone in the case of its sides being too steep and its summit being inaccessible. This question preoccupied him, for it was possible that from the way the hat inclined, that is to say, towards the north, the plateau was not practicable. Also, if the summit of the mountain could not be reached on one side, and if on the other they could not get round the base of the cone, it would be impossible to survey the western part of the country, and their object in making the ascent would in part be altogether unattained. The engineer accordingly, regardless of fatigue, leaving Pencroft and Nebb to arrange the beds, and Gideon Spillett to note the incidents of the day, began to follow the edge of the plateau, going towards the north. Herbert accompanied him. The night was beautiful and still. The darkness was not yet deep. Cyrus Harding and the boy walked near each other without speaking. In some places the plateau opened before them, and they passed without hindrance. In others, obstructed by rocks, there was only a narrow path in which two persons could not walk abreast. After a walk of twenty minutes, Cyrus Harding and Herbert were obliged to stop. From this point the slope of the two cones became one. No shoulder here separated the two parts of the mountain. The slope, being inclined almost seventy degrees, the path became impracticable. But if the engineer and the boy were obliged to give up thoughts of following a circular direction, in return an opportunity was given for ascending the cone. In fact, before them opened a deep hollow. It was the rugged mouth of the crater by which the eruptive liquid matter had escaped at the periods when the volcano was still in activity. Harden lava and crusted scoria formed a sort of natural staircase of large steps which would greatly facilitate the ascent to the summit of the mountain. Harding took all this in at a glance, and without hesitating, followed by the lad, he entered the enormous chasm in the midst of an increasing obscurity. There was still a height of a thousand feet to overcome. Would the interior aclivities of the crater be practicable? It would soon be seen. The persevering engineer resolved to continue his ascent until he was stopped. Eventually these aclivities wound up the interior of the volcano and favored their ascent. As to the volcano itself, it could not be doubted that it was completely extinct. No smoke escaped from its sides, not a flame could be seen in the dark hollows, not a roar, not a mutter, no trembling even issued from this black well, which perhaps reached far into the bowels of the earth. The atmosphere inside the crater was filled with no sulfurous vapor. It was more than the sleep of a volcano. It was its complete extinction. Cyrus Harding's attempt would succeed. Little by little, Herbert and he, climbing up the sides of the interior, saw the crater widen above their heads. The radius of this circular portion of the sky, framed by the edge of the cone, increased obviously. At each step, as it were, that the explorers made, fresh stars entered the field of their vision. The magnificent constellations of the southern sky shown resplendently. At the zenith glittered the splendid Antares in the Scorpion, and not far was Alpha Centauri, which is believed to be the nearest star to the terrestrial globe. Then as the crater widened, appeared Fomohaut of the fish, the southern triangle, and lastly, nearly at the Antarctic pole, the glittering southern cross, which replaces the polar star of the northern hemisphere. It was nearly eight o'clock when Cyrus Harding and Herbert set foot on the highest ridge of the mountain at the summit of the cone. It was then perfectly dark, and their gaze could not extend over a radius of two miles. Did the sea surround this unknown land, or was it connected in the west with some continent of the Pacific? It could not yet be made out. Towards the west, a cloudy belt, clearly visible at the horizon, increased the gloom, and the eye could not discover if the sky and water were blended together in the same circular line. But at one point of the horizon a vague light suddenly appeared, which descended slowly in proportion as the cloud mounted to the zenith. It was the slender crescent moon, already almost disappearing, but its light was sufficient to show clearly the horizontal line, then detach from the cloud, and the engineer could see its reflection trembling for an instant on a liquid surface. Cyrus Harding seized the lad's hand, and in a grave voice, an island, said he, at the moment when the lunar crescent disappeared beneath the waves. End of the chapter. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne. Part I, Chapter 11. Half an hour later, Cyrus Harding and Herbert had returned to the encampment. The engineer merely told his companions that the land upon which fate had thrown them was an island, and that the next day they would consult. Then each settled himself as well as he could to sleep, and in that rocky hole, at a height of 2,500 feet above the level of the sea, through a peaceful night, the islanders enjoyed profound repose. The next day, the 30th of March, after a hasty breakfast which consisted solely of the roasted tragopan, the engineer wished to climb again to the summit of the volcano, so as more attentively to survey the island upon which he and his companions were imprisoned for life, perhaps, should the island be situated at a great distance from any land, or if it was out of the course of vessels which visited the archipelagos of the Pacific Ocean. This time his companions followed him in the new exploration. They also wished to see the island, on the productions of which they must depend for the supply of all their wants. It was about seven o'clock in the morning when Cyrus Harding, Herbert, Pencroft, Gideon Spillett, and Nebb, quitted the encampment. No one appeared to be anxious about their situation. They had faith in themselves, doubtless, but it must be observed that the basis of this faith was not the same with Harding as with his companions. The engineer had confidence, because he felt capable of extorting from this wild country everything necessary for the life of himself and his companions. The latter feared nothing, just because Cyrus Harding was with them. Pencroft especially, since the incident of the relighted fire, would not have despaired for an instant even if he was on a bare rock if the engineer was with him on the rock. Basha said he, We left Richmond without permission from the authorities. It will be hard if we don't manage to get away some day or other from a place where certainly no one will detain us. Cyrus Harding followed the same road as the evening before. They went round the cone by the plateau which formed the shoulder to the mouth of the enormous chasm. The weather was magnificent. The sun rose in a pure sky and flooded with his rays all the eastern side of the mountain. The crater was reached. It was just what the engineer had made it out to be in the dark, that is to say, a vast funnel which extended, widening, to a height of a thousand feet above the plateau. Below the chasm, large, thick streaks of lava wound over the sides of the mountain and thus marked the course of the eruptive matter to the lower valleys which furrowed the northern part of the island. The interior of the crater, whose inclination did not exceed thirty-five to forty degrees, presented no difficulties nor obstacles to the ascent. Traces of very ancient lava were noticed, which probably had overflowed the summit of the cone before this lateral chasm had opened a new way to it. As to the volcanic chimney which established a communication between the subterranean layers and the crater, its depth could not be calculated with the eye, for it was lost in obscurity, but there was no doubt as to the complete extinction of the volcano. Before eight o'clock, Harding and his companions were assembled at the summit of the crater, on a conical mound which swelled the northern edge. The sea, the sea everywhere, they cried, as if their lips could not restrain the words which made islanders of them. The sea indeed formed an immense circular sheet of water all round them. Perhaps on climbing again to the summit of the cone, Cyrus Harding had had a hope of discovering some coast, some island shore which he had not been able to perceive in the dark the evening before. But nothing appeared on the farthest verge of the horizon, that is to say, over a radius of more than fifty miles. No land in sight. Not a sail. Over all this immense space the ocean alone was visible. The island occupied the center of a circumference which appeared to be infinite. The engineer and his companions, mute and motionless, surveyed for some minutes every point of the ocean, examining it to its most extreme limits. Even Pencroft, who possessed a marvellous power of sight, saw nothing. And certainly if there had been land at the horizon, if it appeared only as an indistinct vapor, the sailor would undoubtedly have found it out, for nature had placed regular telescopes under his eyebrows. From the ocean their gays returned to the island which they commanded entirely, and the first question was put by Gideon Spillett in these terms. About what size is this island? Truly it did not appear large in the midst of the immense ocean. Cyrus Harding reflected a few minutes. He attentively observed the perimeter of the island, taking into consideration the height at which he was placed then. My friends said he, I do not think I am mistaken in giving to the shore of the island a circumference of more than a hundred miles. And consequently an area? That is difficult to estimate, replied the engineer, for it is so uneven. If Cyrus Harding was not mistaken in his calculation, the island had almost the extent of Malta or Zante in the Mediterranean, but it was at the same time much more irregular and less rich in capes, promontories, points, bays, or creeks. Its strange form caught the eye, and when Gideon Spillett, on the engineer's advice, had drawn the outline, they found that it resembled some fantastic animal, a monstrous leviathan, which lays sleeping on the surface of the Pacific. This was, in fact, the exact shape of the island, which it is of consequence to know, and a tolerably correct map of it was immediately drawn by the reporter. The east part of the shore, where the castaways had landed, formed a wide bay, terminated by a sharp cape, which had been concealed by a high point from Pencroft on his first exploration. At the northeast two other capes closed the bay, and between them ran a narrow gulf, which looked like the half-open jaws of a formidable dogfish. From the northeast to the southwest the coast was rounded, like the flattened cranium of an animal, rising again, forming a sort of pertuberance which did not give any particular shape to this part of the island, of which the center was occupied by the volcano. From this point the shore ran pretty regularly north and south, broken at two-thirds of its perimeter by a narrow creek, from which it ended in a long tail, similar to the caudal appendage of a gigantic alligator. This tail formed a regular peninsula, which stretched more than thirty miles into the sea, reckoning from the cape southeast of the island already mentioned, it curled round, making an open roadstead which marked out the lower shore on this strangely formed land. At the narrowest part, that is to say, between the chimneys and the creek on the western shore, which corresponded to it in latitude, the island only measured ten miles. But its greatest length, from the jaws at the northeast to the extremity of the tail at the southwest, was not less than thirty miles. As to the interior of the island, its general aspect was this, very woody throughout the southern part from the mountain to the shore, and arid and sandy in the northern part. Between the volcano and the east coast, Cyrus Harding and his companions were surprised to see a lake bordered with green trees, the existence of which they had not suspected. Seen from this height, the lake appeared to be on the same level as the ocean, but, on reflection, the engineer explained to his companions that the altitude of this little sheet of water must be about three hundred feet, because the plateau, which was its basin, was but a prolongation of the coast. Is it a fresh water lake? asked Pencroft. Certainly, replied the engineer, for it must be fed by the water which flows from the mountain. I see a little river which runs into it, said Herbert, pointing out of narrow stream, which evidently took its source somewhere in the west. Yes, said Harding, and since this stream feeds the lake, most probably on the side near the sea, there is an outlet by which the surplus water escapes. We shall see that on our return. This little winding water-course and the river already mentioned constituted the water system, at least such as it was displayed to the eyes of the explorers. However, it was possible that under the masses of trees which covered two-thirds of the island, forming an immense forest, other rivers ran towards the sea. It might even be inferred that such was the case. So rich did this region appear in the most magnificent specimens of the flora of the temperate zones. There was no indication of running water in the north, though perhaps there might be stagnant water among the marshes in the northeast. But that was all, in addition to the downs, sand, and aridity which contrasted so strongly with the luxuriant vegetation of the rest of the island. The volcano did not occupy the central part. It rose on the contrary in the northwestern region and seemed to mark the boundary of the two zones. At the southwest, at the south, and the southeast, the first part of the spurs were hidden under masses of verdure. At the north on the contrary one could follow their ramifications which died away on the sandy plains. It was on this side that, at the time when the mountain was in a state of eruption, the discharge had worn away a passage, and a large heap of lava had spread to the narrow jaw which formed the northeastern gulf. Cyrus Harding and his companions remained an hour at the top of the mountain. The island was displayed under their eyes, like a plan in relief with different tints, green for the forests, yellow for the sand, blue for the water. They viewed it in its tut ensemble. Nothing remained concealed but the ground hidden by verdure, the hollows of the valleys, and the interior of the volcanic chasms. One important question remained to be solved, and the answer would have a great effect upon the future of the castaways. Was the island inhabited? It was the reporter who put this question, to which, after the close examination they had just made, the answer seemed to be in the negative. Nowhere could the work of a human hand be perceived. Not a group of huts, not a solitary cabin, not a fishery on the shore. No smoke curling in the air betrayed the presence of man. It is true a distance of nearly thirty miles separated the observers from the extreme points, that is, of the tail which extended to the south-west, and it would have been difficult, even to pencroft-size, to discover a habitation there. Neither could the curtain of verdure, which covered three-quarters of the island, be raised to see if it did not shelter some straggling village. But in general the islanders live on the shores of the narrow spaces which emerge above the waters of the Pacific, and this shore appeared to be an absolute desert. Until a more complete exploration it might be admitted that the island was uninhabited. But was it frequented, at least occasionally, by the natives of neighboring islands? It was difficult to reply to this question. No land appeared within a radius of fifty miles. But fifty miles could be easily crossed, either by Mele Proas or by the large Polynesian canoes. Everything depended on the position of the island, of its isolation in the Pacific, or of its proximity to archipelagos. Would Cyrus Harding be able to find out their latitude and longitude without instruments? It would be difficult. Since he was in doubt, it was best to take precautions against a possible descent of neighboring natives. The exploration of the island was finished. Its shape determined, its features made out, its extent calculated, the water and mountain systems ascertained. The disposition of the forests and plains had been marked in a general way on the reporter's plan. They had now only to descend the mountain slopes again, and explore the soil in the triple point of view of its mineral, vegetable, and animal resources. But before giving his companions the signal for departure, Cyrus Harding said to them in a calm, grave voice, Here my friends, is the small corner of land upon which the hand of the Almighty has thrown us. We are going to live here, a long time, perhaps. Perhaps too unexpected help will arrive, if some ship passes by chance. I say by chance, because this is an unimportant island, there's not even a port in which ships could anchor. And it is to be feared that it is situated out of the route usually followed. That is to say, too much to the south for the ships which frequent the archipelagos of the Pacific, and too much to the north for those which go to Australia by doubling Cape Horn. I wish to hide nothing of our position from you. And you are right, my dear Cyrus, replied the reporter, with animation. You have to deal with men. They have confidence in you, and you can depend upon them. Is it not so, my friends?" I will obey you in everything, Captain," said Herbert, seizing the engineer's hand. My master always and everywhere, cried Neb. As for me, said the sailor, if I ever grumble at work, my name's not Jack Pencroft, and if you like, Captain, we will make a little America of this island. We will build towns, we will establish railways, start telegraphs, and one fine day, when it is quite changed, quite put in order and quite civilized, we will go and offer it to the Government of the Union. Only, I ask one thing. What is that? said the reporter. It is that we do not consider ourselves castaways, but colonists who have come here to settle. Harding could not help smiling, and the sailor's idea was adopted. He then thanked his companions and added that he would rely on their energy and on the aid of heaven. Well, now let us set off to the chimneys, cried Pencroft. One minute, my friends, said the engineer. It seems to me it would be a good thing to give a name to this island, as well as to the capes, promontories, and water-courses which we can see. Very good, said the reporter. In the future that will simplify the instructions which we have to give and follow. Indeed, said the sailor, all ready it is something to be able to say where one is going and where one has come from, at least it looks like somewhere. The chimneys, for example, said Herbert. Exactly, replied Pencroft. That name was the most convenient, and it came to me quite of itself. Shall we keep the name of the chimneys for our first encampment, Captain? Yes, Pencroft, since you have so christened it. Good! As for the others, that will be easy. Return the sailor, who was in high spirits. Let us give them names as the Robinsons did, whose story Herbert has often read to me. Providence Bay, Whale Point, Cape Disappointment. Or rather, the names of Captain Harding, said Herbert, of Mr. Violet, of Neb, my name, cried Neb, showing his sparkling white teeth. Why not? replied Pencroft. Port Neb, that would do very well. And Cape Gideon. I should prefer borrowing names from our country, said the reporter, which would remind us of America. Yes, for the principal ones, then said Psyrus Harding, for those of the bays and seas I admit it willingly. We might give to that vast bay on the east the name of Union Bay, for example, to that large hollow on the south, Washington Bay, to the mountain upon which we are standing, that of Mount Franklin, to that lake which is extended under our eyes, that of Lake Grant. Nothing could be better, my friends. These names will recall our country, and those of the great citizens who have honored it. But for the rivers, gulfs, capes, and promontories, which we perceive from the top of this mountain, rather let us choose names which will recall their particular shape. They will impress themselves better on our memory, and at the same time will be more practical. The shape of the island is so strange that we shall not be troubled to imagine what it resembles. As to the streams which we do not know as yet, in different parts of the forest, which we shall explore later, the creeks which afterwards will be discovered, we can christen them as we find them. What do you think, my friends? The engineer's proposal was unanimously agreed to by his companions. The island was spread out under their eyes like a map, and they had only to give names to all its angles and points. Gideon's spillet would write them down, and the geographical nomenclature of the island would be definitely adopted. First they named the two bays and the mountain Union Bay, Washington Bay, and Mount Franklin, as the engineer had suggested. Now, said the reporter, to this peninsula at the southwest of the island, I propose to give the name of Serpentine Peninsula, and that of Reptile End, to the bent tail which terminates it, for it is just like a reptile's tail. Adopted, said the engineer. Now, said Herbert, pointing to the other extremity of the island, let us call this gulf which is so singularly like a pair of open jaws, shark gulf. Capital, cried Pencroft, and we can complete the resemblance by naming the two parts of the jaws Mandible Cape. But there are two capes, observed the reporter. Well, replied Pencroft, we can have North Mandible Cape and South Mandible Cape. They are inscribed, said Spillett. There is only the point at the southeastern extremity of the island to be named, said Pencroft. That is the extremity of Union Bay, asked Herbert. Claw Cape, cried Neb directly, who also wished to be Godfather to some part of his domain. In truth, Neb had found an excellent name, for this cape was very like the powerful claw of the fantastic animal which this singularly shaped island represented. Pencroft was delighted at the turn things had taken, and their imaginations soon gave to the river which furnished the settlers with drinking water, and near which the balloon had thrown them, the name of the Mercy, and true gratitude to Providence. To the islet upon which the castaways had first landed, the name of Safety Island. To the plateau which crowned the high granite precipice above the chimneys, and from whence the gays could embrace the whole of the vast bay, the name of Prospect Heights. Lastly, all the masses of impenetrable wood which covered the serpentine peninsula were named the Forests of the Far West. The nomenclature of the visible and known parts of the island was thus finished, and later they would complete it as they made fresh discoveries. As to the points of the compass, the engineer had roughly fixed them by the height and position of the sun which placed Union Bay and Prospect Heights to the east. But the next day, by taking the exact hour of the rising and setting of the sun, and by marking its position between this rising and setting, he reckoned to fix the north of the island exactly, for in consequence of its situation in the southern hemisphere, the sun, at the precise moment of its culmination, passed in the north and not in the south, as, in its apparent movement, it seems to do, to those places situated in the northern hemisphere. Everything was finished, and the settlers had only to descend Mount Franklin to return to the chimneys, when Pencroft cried out, "'Well, we are preciously stupid!' Why?' asked Gideon Spellet, who had closed his notebook and risen to depart. "'Why, our island! we have forgotten to christen it!' Herbert was going to propose to give it the engineer's name, and all his companions would have applauded him, when Cyrus Harding said simply, "'Let us give it the name of a great citizen, my friends, of him who now struggles to defend the unity of the American Republic. Let us call it Lincoln Island!' The engineer's proposal was replied to by three hurrahs. And that evening, before sleeping, the new colonists talked of their absent country. They spoke of the terrible war which stained it with blood. They could not doubt that the south would soon be subdued, and that the cause of the north, the cause of justice, would triumph, thanks to Grant, thanks to Lincoln. Now this happened the thirtieth of March, 1865. They little knew that sixteen days afterwards a frightful crime would be committed in Washington, and that on good Friday Abraham Lincoln would fall by the hand of a fanatic.