The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne (ebook and pdf reader txt) 📖

plumb-line made from a flexible fibre tied to a stone. Having reached a point 20 feet from the shore and 500 feet from the perpendicular granite wall, Smith sunk the pole two feet in the sand, and, steadying it carefully, proceeded to make it plumb with the horizon. Then, moving back to a spot where, stretched upon the sand, he could sight over the top of the pole to the edge of the cliff, bringing the two points in line, he carefully marked this place with a stone. Then addressing Herbert,

“Do you know the first principles of geometry?” said he.

“Slightly, sir,” answered Herbert, not wishing to seem forward.

“Then you remember the relation of similar triangles?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Herbert. “Their like sides are proportional.”

“Right, my boy. And I have just constructed two similar right angled triangles:—the smaller has for its sides the perpendicular pole and the distances from its base and top to the stake; the second has the wall which we are about to measure, and the distances from its base and summit to the stake, which are only the prolongation of the base and hypothenuse of the first triangle.

“I understand,” cried Herbert. “As the distance from the stake to the pole is proportional to the distance from the stake to the base of the wall, so the height of the wall is proportional to the height of the rod.”

“Exactly,” replied the engineer, “and after measuring the first two distances, as we know the height of the pole, we have only to calculate the proportion in order to find the height of the wall.”

The measurements were made with the pole and resulted in determining the distances from the stake to the foot of the pole and the base of the wall to be 15 and 500 feet respectively. The engineer and Herbert then returned to the Chimneys, where the former, using a flat stone and a bit of shell to figure with, determined the height of the wall to be 333.33 feet.

Then taking the compasses, and carefully measuring the angle which he had obtained the night before, upon a circle which he had divided into 360 parts, the engineer found that this angle, allowing for the differences already explained, was 53°. Which, subtracted from 90°—the distance of the pole from the equator—gave 37° as the latitude of Lincoln Island. And making an allowance of 5° for the imperfections of the observations, Smith, concluded it to be situated between the 35th and the 40th parallel of south latitude.

But, in order to establish the co-ordinates of the island, the longitude also must be taken. And this the engineer determined to do when the sun passed the meridian at noon.

They therefore resolved to spend the morning in a walk, or rather an exploration of that part of the island situated to the north of Shark Gulf and the lake; and, if they should have time, to push on as far as the western side of South Mandible Cape. They would dine on the downs and not return until evening.

At half-past 8 the little party set out, following the edge of the channel. Opposite, upon Safety Islet, a number of birds of the sphemiscus family strutted gravely about. There were divers, easily recognizable, by their disagreeable cry, which resembled the braying of an ass. Pencroff, regarding them with gastronomic intent, was pleased to learn that their flesh, though dark colored, was good to eat. They could also see amphibious animals, which probably were seals, crawling over the sand. It was not possible to think of these as food, as their oily flesh is detestable; nevertheless Smith observed them carefully, and without disclosing his plans to the others, he announced that they would very soon, make a visit to the island. The shore followed by the colonists was strewn with mollusks, which would have delighted a malacologist. But, what was more important, Neb discovered, about four miles from the Chimneys, among the rocks, a bed of oysters, left bare by the tide.

“Neb hasn’t lost his day,” said Pencroff, who saw that the bed extended some distance.

“It is, indeed, a happy discovery,” remarked the reporter. “And when we remember that each oyster produces fifty or sixty thousand eggs a year, the supply is evidently inexhaustable.”

“But I don’t think the oyster is very nourishing,” said Herbert.

“No,” answered Smith. “Oysters contain very little azote, and it would be necessary for a man living on them alone to eat at least fifteen or sixteen dozen every day.”

“Well,” said Pencroff, “we could swallow dozens and dozens of these and not exhaust the bed. Shall we have some for breakfast?”

And, without waiting for an answer, which he well knew would be affirmative, the sailor and Neb detached a quantity of these mollusks from the rocks, and placed them with the other provisions for breakfast, in a basket which Neb had made from the hibiscus fibres. Then they continued along the shore between the downs and the sea.

From time to time Smith looked at his watch, so as to be ready for the noon observation.

All this portion of the island, as far as South Mandible Cape, was desert, composed of nothing but sand and shells, mixed with the debris of lava. A few sea birds, such as the sea-gulls and albatross, frequented the shore, and some wild ducks excited the covetousness of Pencroff. He tried to shoot some, but unsuccessfully, as they seldom lit, and he could not hit them flying.

This made the sailor say to the engineer:—

“You see, Mr. Smith, how much we need guns!”

“Doubtless, Pencroff,” answered the reporter, “but it rests with you. You find iron for the barrels, steel for the locks, saltpetre, charcoal and sulphur for the powder, mercury and nitric acid for the fulminate, and last of all, lead for the balls, and Mr. Smith will make us guns of the best quality.

“Oh, we could probably find all these substances on the island,” said the engineer. “But it requires fine tools to make such a delicate instrument as a firearm. However, we will see after awhile.”

“Why, why did we throw the arms and everything else, even our penknives, out of the balloon?” cried Pencroff.

“If we hadn’t, the balloon would have thrown us into the sea,” answered Herbert.

“So it would, my boy,” answered the sailor; and then another idea occurring to him:—

“I wonder what Mr. Forster and his friend thought,” he said, “the next day, when they found they balloon had escaped?”

“I don’t care what they thought,” said the reporter.

“It was my plan,” cried Pencroff, with a satisfied air.

“And a good plan it was, Pencroff,” interrupted the reporter, laughing, “to drop us here!”

“I had rather be here than in the hands of the Southerners!” exclaimed the sailor, “especially since Mr. Smith has been kind enough to rejoin us!”

“And I, too,” cried the reporter. “After all, what do we lack here? Nothing.”

“That means—everything,” answered the sailor, laughing and shrugging his shoulders. “But some day we will get away from this place.”

“Sooner, perhaps, than you think, my friends,” said the engineer, “if Lincoln Island is not very far from an inhabited archipelego or a continent. And we will find that out within an hour. I have no map of the Pacific, but I have a distinct recollection of its southern portion. Yesterday’s observation places the island in the latitude of New Zealand and Chili. But the distance between these two countries is at least 6,000 miles. We must therefore determine what point in this space the island occupies, and that I hope to get pretty soon from the longitude.

“Is not the Low Archipelago nearest us in latitude,” asked Herbert.

“Yes,” replied the engineer, “but it is more than 1,200 miles distant.”

“And that way?” inquired Neb, who followed the conversation with great interest, pointing towards the south.

“Nothing!” answered Pencroff.

“Nothing, indeed,” added the engineer.

“Well, Cyrus,” demanded the reporter, “if we find Lincoln Island to be only 200 or 300 miles from New Zealand or Chili?”

“We will build a ship instead of a house, and Pencroff shall command it.”

“All right, Mr. Smith,” cried the sailor; “I am all ready to be captain, provided you build something seaworthy.”

“We will, if it is necessary,” answered Smith.

While these men, whom nothing could discourage, were talking, the hour for taking the observation approached. Herbert could not imagine how Mr. Smith would be able to ascertain the time of the sun’s passage of the meridian of the island without a single instrument. It was 11 o’clock, and the party, halting about six miles from the Chimneys, not far from the place where they had found the engineer after his inexplicable escape, set about preparing breakfast. Herbert found fresh water in a neighboring brook, and brought some back in a vessel which Neb had with him.

Meantime, the engineer made ready for his astronomical observation. He chose a smooth dry place upon the sand, which the sea had left perfectly level. It was no more necessary, however, for it to be horizontal, than for the rod which he stuck in the sand to be perpendicular. Indeed, the engineer inclined the rod towards the south or away from the sun, as it must not be forgotten that the colonists of Lincoln Island, being in the Southern Hemisphere, saw the orb of day describe his diurnal arc above the northern horizon.

Then Herbert understood how by means of the shadow of the rod on the sand, the engineer would be able to ascertain the culmination of the sun, that is to say, its passage of the meridian of the island, or, in other words, the time of the place. For the moment that the shadow obtained its minimum length it would be noon, and all they had to do was to watch carefully the end of the shadow. By inclining the rod from the sun Smith had made the shadow longer, and therefore its changes could be the more readily noted.

When he thought it was time, the engineer knelt down upon the sand and began marking the decrease in the length of the shadow by means of little wooden pegs. His companions, bending over him, watched the operation with the utmost interest.

The reporter, chronometer in hand, stood ready to mark the minute when the shadow would be shortest. Now, as this 16th of April was a day when the true and mean time are the same, Spilett’s watch would give the true time of Washington, and greatly simplify the calculation.

Meantime the shadow diminished little by little, and as soon as Smith perceived it begin to lengthen he exclaimed:—

“Now!”

“One minute past 5,” answered the reporter.

Nothing then remained but the easy work of summing up the result. There was, as we have seen, five hours difference between the meridian of Washington and that of the island. Now, the sun passes around the earth at the rate of 15° an hour. Fifteen multiplied by five gives seventy-five. And as Washington is in 77° 3’ 11” from the meridian of Greenwich, it follows that the island was in the neighborhood of longitude 152° west.

Smith announced this result to his companions, and, making the same allowance as before, he was able to affirm that the bearing of the island was between the 35° and 37° of south latitude, and between the 150° and 155° of west longitude.

The difference in this calculation, attributable to errors in observation, was placed, as we have seen, at 5° or 300 miles in each direction. But this error did not influence the conclusion that Lincoln Island was so far from any continent or archipelago that they could not attempt to accomplish the distance in a small boat.

In fact, according to the engineer, they were at least 1,200 miles from Tahiti and from the Low Archipelago, fully 1,800 miles from New Zealand, and more than 4,500 miles from the coast of America.

And when Cyrus Smith searched his memory, he could not remember any island in the Pacific occupying the position of Lincoln Island.

CHAPTER XV.

WINTER SETS IN—THE METALLUGRIC QUESTION—THE EXPLORATION OF SAFETY ISLAND—A SEAL HUNT—CAPTURE OF AN ECHIDNA—THE AI—THE CATALONIAN METHOD—MAKING IRON AND STEEL.

The first words of the sailor, on the morning of the 17th of April, were:—

“Well, what are we going to do to-day?”

“Whatever Mr. Smith chooses,” answered the reporter.

The companions of the engineer, having been brickmakers and potters, were about to become metal-workers.

The previous day, after lunch, the party had explored as far as the extremity of Mandible Cape, some seven miles from the Chimneys. The extensive downs here came to an end and the soil appeared volcanic. There were no longer high walls, as at Prospect Plateau, but the narrow gulf between the two capes was enframed by a fantastic border of the mineral matter discharged from the volcano. Having reached this point, the colonists retraced their steps to the Chimneys, but they could