The Mysterious Island Jules Verne (red white royal blue txt) 📖

Suddenly Pencroff, uttering an exclamation, pointed to something on that table.

It was a small oblong box, bearing these words:⁠—

Sulphate of quinine.

An inexplicable mystery⁠—Herbert’s convalescence⁠—The unexplored parts of the island⁠—Preparations for departure⁠—The first day⁠—Night⁠—Second day⁠—The kauris⁠—Cassowaries⁠—Footprints in the sand⁠—Arrival at reptile end.

Spilett took the box and opened it. It contained a white powder, which he tasted. Its extreme bitterness was unmistakable. It was indeed that precious alkaloid, the true anti-periodic.

It was necessary to administer it to Herbert without delay. How it came there could be discussed later.

Spilett called for some coffee, and Neb brought a lukewarm infusion, in which the reporter placed eighteen grains of quinine and gave the mixture to Herbert to drink.

There was still time, as the third attack of the fever had not yet manifested itself. And, indeed, it did not return. Moreover, everyone became hopeful. The mysterious influence was again about them, and that too in a moment when they had despaired of its aid.

After a few hours, Herbert rested more quietly, and the colonists could talk of the incident. The intervention of this unknown being was more evident than ever, but how had he succeeded in getting in to Granite House during the night? It was perfectly inexplicable, and, indeed, the movements of this “genius of the island” were as mysterious as the genius himself.

The quinine was administered to Herbert every three hours, and the next day the lad was certainly better. It is true he was not out of danger, since these fevers are often followed by dangerous relapses; but, then, here was the specific, and, doubtless, not far off, the one who had brought it. In two days more Herbert became convalescent. He was still feeble, but there had been no relapse, and he cheerfully submitted to the rigorous diet imposed upon him. He was so anxious to get well.

Pencroff was beside himself with joy. After the critical period had been safely passed he seized the reporter in his arms, and called him nothing but Doctor Spilett.

But the true physician was still to be found.

“We will find him!” said the sailor.

The year 1867, during which the colonists had been so hardly beset, came to an end, and the new year began with superb weather. A fine warmth, a tropical temperature, moderated by the sea breeze. Herbert’s bed was drawn close to the window, where he could inhale long draughts of the salt, salubrious air. His appetite began to return, and what tempting savory morsels Neb prepared for him!

“It makes one wish to be ill,” said Pencroff.

During this time the convicts had not shown themselves, neither was there any news of Ayrton. The engineer and Herbert still hoped to get him back, but the others thought that the unhappy man had succumbed. In a month’s time, when the lad should have regained his strength, the important search would be undertaken, and all these questions set at rest.

During January the work on the plateau consisted simply in collecting the grain and vegetables undestroyed in the work of devastation, and planting some for a late crop during the next season. Smith preferred to wait till the island was rid of the convicts before he repaired the damage to the mill, poultry-yard, and stable.

In the latter part of the month Herbert began to take some exercise. He was eighteen years old, his constitution was splendid, and from this moment the improvement in his condition was visible daily.

By the end of the month he walked on the shore and over the plateau, and strengthened himself with sea-baths. Smith felt that the day for the exploration could be set, and the 15th of February was chosen. The nights at this season were very clear, and would, therefore, be advantageous to the search.

The necessary preparations were begun. These were important, as the colonists had determined not to return to Granite House until their double end had been obtained⁠—to destroy the convicts and find Ayrton, if he was still alive; and to discover the being who presided so efficiently over the destinies of the colony.

The colonists were familiar with all the eastern coast of the island between Claw Cape and the Mandibles; with Tadorn’s Fens; the neighborhood of Lake Grant; the portion of Jacamar Wood lying between the road to the corral and the Mercy; the courses of the Mercy and Red Creek, and those spurs of Mount Franklin where the corral was located.

They had partially explored the long sweep of Washington Bay from Claw Cape to Reptile End; the wooded and marshy shore of the west coast, and the interminable downs which extended to the half-open mouth of Shark Gulf.

But they were unacquainted with the vast woods of Serpentine Peninsula; all the right bank of the Mercy; the left bank of Fall River, and the confused mass of ravines and ridges which covered three-fourths of the base of Mount Franklin on the west, north, and east, and where, doubtless, there existed deep recesses. Therefore, many thousands of acres had not yet been explored.

It was decided that the expedition should cross the Forest of the Far West, in such a manner as to go over all that part situated on the right of the Mercy. Perhaps it would have been better to have gone at once to the corral, where it was probable the convicts had either pillaged the place or installed themselves there. But either the pillage was a work accomplished or the convicts had purposed to entrench themselves there, and it would always be time to dislodge them.

So the first plan was decided upon, and it was resolved to cut a road through these woods, placing Granite House in communication with the end of the peninsula, a distance of sixteen or seventeen miles.

The wagon was in perfect order. The onagers, well rested, were in excellent condition for a long pull. Victuals, camp utensils, and the portable stove, were loaded into the wagon, together with a