The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne (best ebook reader for laptop TXT) 📖

very steep hill, and reached a terrace, almost bare of trees, whose soil was evidently volcanic. From hence, their course was a zigzag towards the east, for the declivity was so steep that they had to take every point of vantage. Neb and Herbert led the way, then came Smith and the reporter; Pencroff was last. The animals who lived among these heights, and whose traces were not wanting, must have the sure foot and the supple spine of a chamois or an izard. They saw some to whom Pencroff gave a name of his own—“Sheep,” he cried.

They all had stopped fifty feet from half-a-dozen large animals, with thick horns curved backwards and flattened at the end, and with woolly fleece, hidden under long silky fawn-colored hair. They were not the common sheep, but a species widely distributed through the mountainous regions of the temperate zone. Their name, according to Herbert, was Moufflon.

“Have they legs and chops?” asked the sailor.

“Yes,” replied Herbert.

“Then they’re sheep,” said Pencroff. The animals stood motionless and astonished at their first sight of man. Then, seized with sudden fear, they fled, leaping away among the rocks.

“Good-bye till next time,” cried Pencroff to them, in a tone so comical that the others could not forbear laughing.

As the ascension continued, the traces of lava were more frequent, and little sulphur springs intercepted their route. At some points sulphur had been deposited in crystals, in the midst of the sand and whitish cinders of feldspar which generally precede the eruption of lava. As they neared the first plateau, formed by the truncation of the lower cone, the ascent became very difficult. By 4 o’clock the last belt of trees had been passed. Here and there stood a few dwarfed and distorted pines, which had survived the attacks of the furious winds. Fortunately for the engineer and his party, it was a pleasant, mild day; for a high wind, at that altitude of 3,000 feet, would have interfered with them sadly. The sky overhead was extremely bright and clear. A perfect calm reigned around them. The sun was hidden by the upper mountain, which cast its shadow, like a vast screen, westward to the edge of the sea. A thin haze began to appear in the east, colored with all the rays of the solar spectrum.

There were only 500 feet between the explorers and the plateau where they meant to encamp for the night, but these 500 were increased to 2,000 and more by the tortuous route. The ground, so to speak, gave way under their feet. The angle of ascent was often so obtuse that they slipped upon the smooth-worn lava. Little by little the evening set in, and it was almost night when the party, tired out by a seven hours’ climb, arrived at the top of the first cone.

Now they must pitch their camp, and think of supper and sleep. The upper terrace of the mountain rose upon a base of rocks, amid which they could soon find a shelter. Firewood was not plenty, yet the moss and dry thistles, so abundant on the plateau, would serve their turn. The sailor built up a fireplace with huge stones, while Neb and Herbert went after the combustibles. They soon came back with a load of thistles; and with flint and steel, the charred linen for tinder, and Neb to blow the fire, a bright blaze was soon sparkling behind the rocks. It was for warmth only, for they kept the pheasant for the next day, and supped off the rest of the cabiai and a few dozen pistachio-nuts.

It was only half-past 6 when the meal was ended. Cyrus Smith resolved to explore, in, the semi-obscurity, the great circular pediment which upheld the topmost cone of the mountain. Before taking rest, he was anxious to know whether the base of the cone could be passed, in case its flanks should prove too steep for ascent. So, regardless of fatigue, he left Pencroff and Neb to make the sleeping arrangements, and Spilett to note down the incidents of the day, and taking Herbert with him, began to walk around the base of the plateau towards the north.

The night was beautiful and still; and not yet very dark. They walked together in silence. Sometimes the plateau was wide and easy, sometimes so encumbered with rubbish that the two could not walk abreast. Finally, after twenty minutes tramp, they were brought to a halt. From this point the slant of the two cones was equal. To walk around the mountain upon an acclivity whose angle was nearly seventy-five degrees was impossible.

But though they had to give up their flank movement, the chance of a direct ascent was suddenly offered to them. Before them opened an immense chasm in the solid rock. It was the mouth of the upper crater, the gullet, so to speak, through which, when the volcano was active, the eruption took place. Inside, hardened lava and scoriæ formed a sort of natural staircase with enormous steps, by which they might possibly reach the summit. Smith saw the opportunity at a glance, and followed by the boy, he walked unhesitatingly into the huge crevasse, in the midst of the gathering darkness.

There were yet 1,000 feet to climb. Could they scale the interior wall of the crater? They would try, at all events. Fortunately, the long and sinuous declivities described a winding staircase, and greatly helped their ascent. The crater was evidently exhausted. Not a puff of smoke, not a glimmer of fire, escaped; not a sound or motion in the dark abyss, reaching down, perhaps, to the centre of the globe. The air within retained no taint of sulphur. The volcano was not only quiet, but extinct.

Evidently the attempt was to succeed. Gradually, as the two mounted the inner walls, they saw the crater grow larger over their heads. The light from the outer sky visibly increased. At each step, so to speak, which they made, new stars entered the field of their vision: The magnificent constellations of the southern sky shone resplendent. In the zenith glittered the splendid Antares of the Scorpion, and not far off that Beta of the Centaur, which is believed to be the nearest star to our terrestrial globe. Then, as the crater opened, appeared Fomalhaut of the Fish, the Triangle, and at last, almost at the Antarctic pole, the glowing Southern Cross.

It was nearly 8 o’clock when they set foot on the summit of the cone. The darkness was by this time complete, and they could hardly see a couple of miles around them. Was the land an island, or the eastern extremity of a continent? They could not yet discover. Towards the west a band of cloud, clearly defined against the horizon, deepened the obscurity, and confounded sea with sky.

But at one point of the horizon suddenly appeared a vague light, which slowly sank as the clouds mounted to the zenith. It was the slender crescent of the moon, just about to disappear. But the line of the horizon was now cloudless, and as the moon touched it, the engineer could see her face mirrored for an instant on a liquid surface. He seized the boy’s hand—

“An island!” said he, as the lunar crescent disappeared behind the waves.

 

CHAPTER XI.

 

AT THE SUMMIT OF THE CONE—THE INTERIOR OF THE CRATER—SEA EVERYWHERE —NO LAND IN SIGHT—A BIRD’S EVE VIEW OF THE COAST—HYDROGRAPHY AND OROGRAPHY —IS THE ISLAND INHABITED?—A GEOGRAPHICAL BAPTISM—LINCOLN ISLAND.

A half hour later they walked back to the camp. The engineer contented himself with saying to his comrades that the country was an island, and that to-morrow they would consider what to do. Then each disposed himself to sleep, and in this basalt cave, 2,500 feet above sea-level, they passed a quiet night in profound repose. The next day, March 30, after a hurried breakfast on roast trajopan, they started out for the summit of the volcano. All desired to see the isle on which perhaps they were to spend their lives, and to ascertain how far it lay from other land, and how near the course of vessels bound for the archipelagoes of the Pacific.

It was about 7 o’clock in the morning when they left the camp. No one seemed dismayed by the situation. They had faith in themselves, no doubt; but the source of that faith was not the same with Smith as with his companions. They trusted in him, he in his ability to extort from the wilderness around them all the necessaries of life. As for Pencroff, he would not have despaired, since the rekindling of the fire by the engineer’s lens, if he had found himself upon a barren rock, if only Smith was with him.

“Bah!” said he, “we got out of Richmond without the permission of the authorities, and it will be strange if we can’t get away some time from a place where no one wants to keep us!”

They followed the route of the day before, flanking the cone till they reached the enormous crevasse. It was a superb day, and the southern side of the mountain was bathed in sunlight. The crater, as the engineer had supposed, was a huge shaft gradually opening to a height of 1,000 feet above the plateau. From the bottom of the crevasse large currents of lava meandered down the flanks of the mountain, indicating the path of the eruptive matter down to the lower valleys which furrowed the north of the island.

The interior of the crater, which had an inclination of thirty-five or forty degrees, was easily scaled. They saw on the way traces of ancient lava, which had probably gushed from the summit of the cone before the lateral opening had given it a new way of escape. As to the volcano chimney which communicated with the subterranean abyss, its depth could not be estimated by the eye, for it was lost in obscurity; but there seemed no doubt that the volcano was completely extinct. Before 8 o’clock, the party were standing at the summit of the crater, on a conical elevation of the northern side.

“The sea! the sea everywhere!” was the universal exclamation. There it lay, an immense sheet of water around them on every side. Perhaps Smith had hoped that daylight would reveal some neighboring coast or island. But nothing appeared to the horizon-line, a radius of more than fifty miles. Not a sail was in sight. Around the island stretched a desert infinity of ocean.

Silent and motionless, they surveyed every point of the horizon. They strained their eyes to the uttermost limit of the ocean. But even Pencroff, to whom Nature had given a pair of telescopes instead of eyes, and who could have detected land even in the faintest haze upon the sea-line, could see nothing. Then they looked down upon their island, and the silence was broken by Spilett:—

“How large do you think this island is?”

It seemed small enough in the midst of the infinite ocean.

Smith thought awhile, noticed the circumference of the island, and allowed for the elevation.

“My friends,” he said, “if I am not mistaken, the coast of the island is more than 100 miles around.”

“Then its surface will be—”

“That is hard to estimate; the outline is so irregular.”

If Smith was right, the island would be about the size of Malta or Zante in the Mediterranean; but it was more irregular than they, and at the same time had fewer capes, promontories, points, bays, and creeks. Its form was very striking. When Spilett drew it they declared it was like some fantastic sea beast, some monstrous pteropode, asleep on the surface of the Pacific.

The exact configuration of the island may thus be described:—The eastern coast, upon which the castaways had landed, was a decided curve, embracing a large bay, terminating at the southeast in a sharp promontory, which the shape of the land had hidden from Pencroff on his first exploration. On the northeast, two other capes shut in the bay, and