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

as to inflate the vitreous mass. Other quantities of the substance in fusion were added to the first, and the result was a bubble, measuring a foot in diameter. Then Smith took the cane again, and swinging it like a pendulum, he made this bubble lengthen into the shape of cylinder.

This cylinder was terminated at either end by two hemispherical caps, which were easily cut off by means of a sharp iron dipped in cold water; in the same way the cylinder was cut lengthwise, and after having been heated a second time it was spread on the plate and smoothed with a wooden roller.

Thus the first glass was made, and by repeating the operation fifty times they had as many glasses, and the windows of Granite House were soon garnished with transparent panes, not very clear, perhaps, but clear enough.

As to the glassware, that was mere amusement. They took whatever shape happened to come at the end of the cane. Pencroff had asked to be allowed to blow in his turn and he enjoyed it, but he blew so hard that his products took the most diverting forms, which pleased him amazingly.

During one of the excursions undertaken about this time a new tree was discovered, whose products added much to the resources of the colony.

Smith and Herbert, being out hunting one day, went into the forests of the Far West, and as usual the lad asked the engineer a thousand questions, and as Smith was no sportsman, and Herbert was deep in physics and chemistry, the game did not suffer; and so it fell out that the day was nearly ended, and the two hunters were likely to have made a useless excursion, when Herbert, stopping suddenly, exclaimed joyfully:—

“Oh, Mr. Smith, do you see that tree?”

And he pointed out a shrub rather than a tree, as it was composed of a single stem with a scaly bark, and leaves striped with small parallel veins.

“It looks like a small palm. What is it?” asked Smith.

“It is a “cycas revoluta,” about which I have read in our Dictionary of Natural History.”

“But I see no fruit on this shrub?”

“No, sir, but its trunk contains a flour which Nature furnishes all ground.”

“Is it a bread-tree?”

“That’s it, exactly.”

“Then, my boy, since we are waiting for our wheat crop, this is a valuable discovery. Examine it, and pray heaven you are not mistaken.”

Herbert was not mistaken. He broke the stem of the cycas, which was composed of a glandular tissue containing a certain quantity of farinaceous flour, traversed by ligneous fibres and separated by concentric rings of the same substance. From the fecula oozed a sticky liquid of a disagreeable taste, but this could readily be removed by pressure. The substance itself formed a real flour of superior quality, extremely nourishing, and which used to be forbidden exportation by the laws of Japan.

Smith and Herbert, after baring carefully noted the location of the cycas, returned to Granite House and made known their discovery, and the next day all the colonists went to the place, and, Pencroff, jubilant, asked the engineer:—

“Mr Smith, do you believe there are such things as castaways’ islands?”

“What do you mean, Pencroff?.”

“Well, I mean islands made especially for people to be shipwrecked upon, where the poor devils could always get along!”

“Perhaps,” said the engineer, smiling.

“Certainly!” answered the sailor, “and just as certainly Lincoln Island is one of them!”

They returned to Granite House with an ample supply of cycas stems, and the engineer made a press by which the liquid was expelled, and they obtained a goodly quantity of flour which Neb transformed into cakes and puddings. They had not yet real wheaten bread, but it was the next thing to do.

The onager, the goats, and the sheep in the corral furnished a daily supply of milk to the colony, and the cart, or rather a light wagon, which had taken its place, made frequent trips to the corral. And when Pencroff’s turn came, he took Jup along, and made him drive, and Jup, cracking his whip, acquitted himself with his usual intelligence. Thus everything prospered, and the colonists, if they had not been so far from their country, would have had nothing to complain of. They liked the life and they were so accustomed to the island that they would have left it with regret. Nevertheless, such is man’s love of country, that had a ship hove in sight the colonists would have signalled it, have gone aboard and departed. Meantime, they lived this happy life and they had rather to fear than to wish for any interruption of its course.

But who is able to flatter himself that he has attained his fortune and reached the summit of his desires?

The colonists often discussed the nature of their Island, which they had inhabited for more than a year, and one day a remark was made which, was destined, later, to bring about the most serious result.

It was the 1st of April, a Sunday, and the Pascal feast, which Smith and his companions had sanctified by rest and prayer. The day had been lovely, like a day in October in the Northern Hemisphere. Towards evening all were seated in the arbor on the edge of the plateau, watching the gradual approach of night, and drinking some of Neb’s elderberry coffee. They had been talking of the island and its isolated position in the Pacific, when something made Spilett say:—

“By the way, Cyrus, have you ever taken the position of the island again since you have had the sextant?”

“No,” answered the engineer.

“Well, wouldn’t it be well enough to do so?”.

“What would be the use?” asked Pencroff. “The island is well enough where it is.”

“Doubtless,” answered Spilett, “but it is possible that the imperfections of the other instruments may have caused an error in that observation, and since, it is easy to verify it exactly—”

“You are right, Spilett,” responded the engineer, “and I would have made this verification before, only that if I have made an error it cannot exceed five degrees in latitude or longitude.”

“Who knows,” replied the reporter, “who knows but that we are much nearer an inhabited land than we believe?”

“We will know to-morrow,” responded the engineer,” and had it not been for the other work, which has left us no leisure, we would have known already.”

“Well,” said Pencroff, “Mr. Smith is too good an observer to have been mistaken, and if the island has not moved, it is just where he put it!”

So the next day the engineer made the observations with the sextant with the following result:—Longitude 150° 30’ west; latitude 34° 57’ south. The previous observation had given the situation of the island as between longitude 150° and 155° west, and latitude 36° and 35° south, so that, notwithstanding the rudeness of his apparatus, Smith’s error had not been more than five degrees.

“Now,” said Spilett, “since, beside a sextant, we have an atlas, see, my dear Cyrus, the exact position of Lincoln Island in the Pacific.”

Herbert brought the atlas, which it will be remembered gave the nomenclature in the French language, and the volume was opened at the map of the Pacific. The engineer, compass in hand, was about to determine their situation, when, suddenly he paused, exclaiming:—

“Why, there is an island marked in this part of the Pacific!”

“An island?” cried Pencroff.

“Doubtless it is ours.” added Spilett.

“No.” replied Smith. “This island is situated in 153° of longitude and 37° 11’ of latitude.”

“And what’s the name?” asked Herbert.

“Tabor Island.”

“Is it important?”

“No, it is an island lost in the Pacific, and which has never, perhaps, been visited.”

“Very well, we will visit it,” said Pencroff.

“We?”

“Yes, sir; We will build a decked boat, and I will undertake to steer her. How far are we from this Tabor Island?”

“A hundred and fifty miles to the northeast.”

“Is that all?” responded Pencroff.

“Why in forty-eight hours, with a good breeze, we will be there!”

“But what would be the use?” asked the reporter.

“We cannot tell till we see it!”

And upon this response it was decided that a boat should be built so that it might be launched by about the next October, on the return of good weather.

CHAPTER XXXII.

SHIP BUILDING—THE SECOND HARVEST—AI HUNTING—A NEW PLANT—A WHALE—THE HARPOON FROM THE VINEYARD—CUTTING UP THIS CETACEA—USE OF THE WHALEBONE—THE END OF MAY—PENCROFF IS CONTENT.

When Pencroff was possessed of an idea, he would not rest till it was executed. Now, he wanted to visit Tabor Island, and as a boat of some size was necessary, therefore the boat must be built. He and the engineer accordingly determined upon the following model:—

The boat was to measure thirty-five feet on the keel by nine feet beam—with the lines of a racer—and to draw six feet of water, which would be sufficient to prevent her making leeway. She was to be flush-decked, with the two hatchways into two holds separated by a partition, and sloop-rigged with mainsail, topsail, jib, storm-jib and brigantine, a rig easily handled, manageable in a squall, and excellent for lying close in the wind. Her hull was to be constructed of planks, edge to edge, that is, not overlapping, and her timbers would be bent by steam after the planking had been adjusted to a false frame.

On the question of wood, whether to use elm or deal, they decided on the latter as being easier to work, and supporting immersion in water the better.

These details having been arranged, it was decided that, as the fine weather would not return before six months, Smith and Pencroff should do this work alone. Spilett and Herbert were to continue hunting, and Neb and his assistant, Master Jup, were to attend to the domestic cares as usual.

At once trees were selected and cut down and sawed into planks, and a week later a ship-yard was made in the hollow between Granite House and the Cliff, and a keel thirty-five feet long, with stern-post and stem lay upon the sand.

Smith had not entered blindly upon this undertaking. He understood marine construction as he did almost everything else, and he had first drawn the model on paper. Moreover, he was well aided by Pencroff, who had worked as a ship-carpenter. It was, therefore, only after deep thought and careful calculation that the false frame was raised on the keel.

Pencroff was very anxious to begin the new enterprise, and but one thing took him away, and then only for a day, from the work. This was the second harvest, which was made on the 15th of April. It resulted as before, and yielded the proportion of grains calculated.

“Five bushels, Mr. Smith,” said Pencroff, after having scrupulously measured these riches.

“Five bushels,” answered the engineer, “or 650,000 grains of corn.”

“Well, we will sow them all this time, excepting a small reserve.”

“Yes, and if the next harvest is proportional to this we will have 4,000 bushels.”

“And we will eat bread.”

“We will, indeed.”

“But we must build a mill?”

“We will build one.”

The third field of corn, though incomparably larger than the others, was prepared with great care and received the precious seed. Then Pencroff returned to his work.

In the meantime, Spilett and Herbert hunted in the neighborhood, or with their guns loaded with ball, adventured into the unexplored depths of the Far West. It was an inextricable tangle of great trees growing close together. The exploration of those thick masses was very difficult and the engineer never undertook it without taking with him the pocket compass, as the sun was rarely visible through the leaves. Naturally, game was not plenty in these thick undergrowths, but three ai were shot during the last fortnight in April, and their skins were taken to Granite House, where they received a sort of tanning with sulfuric acid.

On the 30th of April, a discovery, valuable for another reason, was made by Spilett. The two hunters were deep in the south-western part of the Far West when the reporter, walking some fifty paces ahead of his companion, came to a sort of glade, and was surprised to perceive an odor proceeding from certain straight stemmed plants, cylindrical and branching, and bearing bunches of flowers and tiny seeds. The reporter broke off some of these stems, and, returning to the lad, asked him if he knew what they were.

“Where did you find this plant?” asked Herbert.

“Over there in the glade; there is plenty of it.”

“Well, this is a discovery that gives you Pencroff’s everlasting gratitude.”

“Is it tobacco?”

“Yes, and if it is not first quality it is all the same, tobacco.”

“Good Pencroff, how happy he’ll be. But he cannot smoke all. He’ll have to leave some for us.”

“I’ll tell you what, sir. Let us say nothing to Pencroff until the tobacco has been prepared, and then some fine day we will hand him a pipe full.”

“And