Books: The Mysterious Island
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Jules Verne >> The Mysterious Island
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All the colonists, their services thus requisitioned by Pencroft,
descended to the dockyard, and proceeded to place the keelson, a thick mass
of wood which forms the lower portion of a ship and unites firmly the
timbers of the hull. It was an arduous undertaking, in which all took part.
They continued their labors during the whole of this day, the 3rd of
January, without thinking further of the volcano, which could not, besides,
be seen from the shore of Granite House. But once or twice, large shadows,
veiling the sun, which described its diurnal arc through an extremely clear
sky, indicated that a thick cloud of smoke passed between its disc and the
island. The wind, blowing on the shore, carried all these vapors to the
westward. Cyrus Harding and Gideon Spilett remarked these somber
appearances, and from time to time discussed the evident progress of the
volcanic phenomena, but their work went on without interruption. It was,
besides, of the first importance from every point of view, that the vessel
should be finished with the least possible delay. In presence of the
eventualities which might arise, the safety of the colonists would be to a
great extent secured by their ship. Who could tell that it might not prove
some day their only refuge?
In the evening, after supper, Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert
again ascended the plateau of Prospect Heights. It was already dark, and
the obscurity would permit them to ascertain if flames or incandescent
matter thrown up by the volcano were mingled with the vapor and smoke
accumulated at the mouth of the crater.
"The crater is on fire!" said Herbert, who, more active than his
companion, first reached the plateau.
Mount Franklin, distant about six miles, now appeared like a gigantic
torch, around the summit of which turned fuliginous flames. So much smoke,
and possibly scoriae and cinders were mingled with them, that their light
gleamed but faintly amid the gloom of the night. But a kind of lurid
brilliancy spread over the island, against which stood out confusedly the
wooded masses of the heights. Immense whirlwinds of vapor obscured the sky,
through which glimmered a few stars.
"The change is rapid!" said the engineer.
"That is not surprising," answered the reporter. "The reawakening of the
volcano already dates back some time. You may remember, Cyrus, that the
first vapors appeared about the time we searched the sides of the mountain
to discover Captain Nemo's retreat. It was, if I mistake not, about the
15th of October."
"Yes," replied Herbert, "two months and a half ago!"
"The subterranean fires have therefore been smoldering for ten weeks,"
resumed Gideon Spilett, "and it is not to be wondered at that they now
break out with such violence!"
"Do not you feel a certain vibration of the soil?" asked Cyrus Harding.
"Yes," replied Gideon Spilett, "but there is a great difference between
that and an earthquake."
"I do not affirm that we are menaced with an earthquake," answered Cyrus
Harding, "may God preserve us from that! No; these vibrations are due to
the effervescence of the central fire. The crust of the earth is simply the
shell of a boiler, and you know that such a shell, under the pressure of
steam, vibrates like a sonorous plate. it is this effect which is being
produced at this moment."
"What magnificent flames!" exclaimed Herbert.
At this instant a kind of bouquet of flames shot forth from the crater,
the brilliancy of which was visible even through the vapors. Thousands of
luminous sheets and barbed tongues of fire were cast in various directions.
Some, extending beyond the dome of smoke, dissipated it, leaving behind an
incandescent powder. This was accompanied by successive explosions,
resembling the discharge of a battery of machine-guns.
Cyrus Harding, the reporter, and Herbert, after spending an hour on the
plateau of Prospect Heights, again descended to the beach, and returned to
Granite House. The engineer was thoughtful and preoccupied, so much so,
indeed, that Gideon Spilett inquired if he apprehended any immediate
danger, of which the eruption might directly or indirectly be the cause.
"Yes, and no," answered Cyrus Harding.
"Nevertheless," continued the reporter, "would not the greatest
misfortune which could happen to us be an earthquake which would overturn
the island? Now, I do not suppose that this is to be feared, since the
vapors and lava have found a free outlet."
"True," replied Cyrus Harding, "and I do not fear an earthquake in the
sense in which the term is commonly applied to convulsions of the soil
provoked by the expansion of subterranean gases. But other causes may
produce great disasters."
"How so, my dear Cyrus?'
"I am not certain. I must consider. I must visit the mountain. In a few
days I shall learn more on this point."
Gideon Spilett said no more, and soon, in spite of the explosions of the
volcano, whose intensity increased, and which were repeated by the echoes
of the island, the inhabitants of Granite House were sleeping soundly.
Three days passed by--the 4th, 5th, and 6th of January. The construction
of the vessel was diligently continued, and without offering further
explanations the engineer pushed forward the work with all his energy.
Mount Franklin was now hooded by a somber cloud of sinister aspect, and,
amid the flames, vomiting forth incandescent rocks, some of which fell back
into the crater itself. This caused Pencroft, who would only look at the
matter in the light of a joke, to exclaim,--
"Ah! the giant is playing at cup and ball; he is a conjurer."
In fact, the substances thrown up fell back again in to the abyss, and it
did not seem that the lava, though swollen by the internal pressure, had
yet risen to the orifice of the crater. At any rate, the opening on the
northeast, which was partly visible, poured out no torrent upon the
northern slope of the mountain.
Nevertheless, however pressing was the construction of the vessel, other
duties demanded the presence of the colonists on various portions of the
island. Before everything it was necessary to go to the corral, where the
flocks of musmons and goats were enclosed, and replenish the provision of
forage for those animals. It was accordingly arranged that Ayrton should
proceed thither the next day, the 7th of January; and as he was sufficient
for the task, to which he was accustomed, Pencroft and the rest were
somewhat surprised on hearing the engineer say to Ayrton--
"As you are going to-morrow to the corral I will accompany you."
"But, Captain Harding," exclaimed the sailor, "our working days will not
be many, and if you go also we shall be two pair of hands short!"
"We shall return to-morrow," replied Cyrus Harding, "but it is necessary
that I should go to the corral. I must learn how the eruption is
progressing."
"The eruption! always the eruption!" answered Pencroft, with an air of
discontent. "An important thing, truly, this eruption! I trouble myself
very little about it."
Whatever might be the sailor's opinion, the expedition projected by the
engineer was settled for the next day. Herbert wished to accompany Cyrus
Harding, but he would not vex Pencroft by his absence.
The next day, at dawn, Cyrus Harding and Ayrton, mounting the cart drawn
by two onagers, took the road to the corral and set off at a round trot.
Above the forest were passing large clouds, to which the crater of Mount
Franklin incessantly added fuliginous matter. These clouds, which rolled
heavily in the air, were evidently composed of heterogeneous substances. It
was not alone from the volcano that they derived their strange opacity and
weight. Scoriae, in a state of dust, like powdered pumice-stone, and
grayish ashes as small as the finest feculae, were held in suspension in
the midst of their thick folds. These ashes are so fine that they have been
observed in the air for whole months. After the eruption of 1783 in Iceland
for upwards of a year the atmosphere was thus charged with volcanic dust
through which the rays of the sun were only with difficulty discernible.
But more often this pulverized matter falls, and this happened on the
present occasion. Cyrus Harding and Ayrton had scarcely reached the corral
when a sort of black snow like fine gunpowder fell, and instantly changed
the appearance of the soil. Trees, meadows, all disappeared beneath a
covering several inches in depth. But, very fortunately, the wind blew from
the northeast, and the greater part of the cloud dissolved itself over the
sea.
"This is very singular, Captain Harding," said Ayrton.
"It is very serious," replied the engineer. "This powdered pumice-stone,
all this mineral dust, proves how grave is the convulsion going forward in
the lower depths of the volcano."
"But can nothing be done?"
"Nothing, except to note the progress of the phenomenon. Do you,
therefore, Ayrton, occupy yourself with the necessary work at the corral.
In the meantime I will ascend just beyond the source of Red Creek and
examine the condition of the mountain upon its northern aspect. Then--"
"Well, Captain Harding?"
"Then we will pay a visit to Dakkar Grotto. I wish to inspect it. At any
rate I will come back for you in two hours."
Ayrton then proceeded to enter the corral, and, while awaiting the
engineer's return, busied himself with the musmons and goats which seemed
to feel a certain uneasiness in presence of these first signs of an
eruption.
Meanwhile Cyrus Harding ascended the crest of the eastern spur, passed
Red Creek, and arrived at the spot where he and his companions had
discovered a sulphurous spring at the time of their first exploration.
How changed was everything! Instead of a single column of smoke he
counted thirteen, forced through the soil as if violently propelled by some
piston. It was evident that the crust of the earth was subjected in this
part of the globe to a frightful pressure. The atmosphere was saturated
with gases and carbonic acid, mingled with aqueous vapors. Cyrus Harding
felt the volcanic tufa with which the plain was strewn, and which was but
pulverized cinders hardened into solid blocks by time, tremble beneath him,
but he could discover no traces of fresh lava.
The engineer became more assured of this when he observed all the
northern part of Mount Franklin. Pillars of smoke and flame escaped from
the crater; a hail of scoriae fell on the ground; but no current of lava
burst from the mouth of the volcano, which proved that the volcanic matter
had not yet attained the level of the superior orifice of the central
shaft.
"But I would prefer that it were so," said Cyrus Harding to himself. "At
any rate, I should then know that the lava had followed its accustomed
track. who can say that it may not take a new course? But the danger does
not consist in that! Captain Nemo foresaw it clearly! No, the danger does
not lie there!"
Cyrus Harding advanced towards the enormous causeway whose prolongation
enclosed the narrow Shark Gulf. He could now sufficiently examine on this
side the ancient channels of the lava. There was no doubt in his mind that
the most recent eruption had occurred at a far-distant epoch.
He then returned by the same way, listening attentively to the
subterranean mutterings which rolled like long-continued thunder,
interrupted by deafening explosions. At nine in the morning he reached the
corral.
Ayrton awaited him.
"The animals are cared for, Captain Harding," said Ayrton.
"Good, Ayrton."
"They seem uneasy, Captain Harding."
"Yes, instinct speaks through them, and instinct is never deceived."
"Are you ready?"
"Take a lamp, Ayrton," answered the engineer; "we will start at once."
Ayrton did as desired. The onagers, unharnessed, roamed in the corral.
The gate was secured on the outside, and Cyrus Harding, preceding Ayrton,
took the narrow path which led westward to the shore.
The soil they walked upon was choked with the pulverized matter fallen
from the cloud. No quadruped appeared in the woods. Even the birds had
fled. Sometimes a passing breeze raised the covering of ashes, and the two
colonists, enveloped in a whirlwind of dust, lost sight of each other. They
were then careful to cover their eyes and mouths with handkerchiefs, for
they ran the risk of being blinded and suffocated.
It was impossible for Cyrus Harding and Ayrton, with these impediments,
to make rapid progress. Moreover, the atmosphere was close, as if the
oxygen had been partly burned up, and had become unfit for respiration. At
every hundred paces they were obliged to stop to take breath. It was
therefore past ten o'clock when the engineer and his companion reached the
crest of the enormous mass of rocks of basalt and porphyry which composed
the northwest coast of the island.
Ayrton and Cyrus Harding commenced the descent of this abrupt declivity,
following almost step for step the difficult path which, during that stormy
night, had led them to Dakkar Grotto. In open day the descent was less
perilous, and, besides, the bed of ashes which covered the polished surface
of the rock enabled them to make their footing more secure.
The ridge at the end of the shore, about forty feet in height, was soon
reached. Cyrus Harding recollected that this elevation gradually sloped
towards the level of the sea. Although the tide was at present low, no
beach could he seen, and the waves, thickened by the volcanic dust, beat
upon the basaltic rocks.
Cyrus Harding and Ayrton found without difficulty the entrance to Dakkar
Grotto, and paused for a moment at the last rock before it.
"The iron boat should be there," said the engineer.
"It is here, Captain Harding," replied Ayrton, drawing towards him the
fragile craft, which was protected by the arch of the vault.
"On board, Ayrton!"
The two colonists stepped into the boat. A slight undulation of the waves
carried it farther under the low arch of the crypt, and there Ayrton, with
the aid of flint and steel, lighted the lamp. He then took the oars, and
the lamp having been placed in the bow of the boat, so that its rays fell
before them, Cyrus Harding took the helm and steered through the shades of
the grotto.
The "Nautilus" was there no longer to illuminate the cavern with its
electric light. Possibly it might not yet be extinguished, but no ray
escaped from the depths of the abyss in which reposed all that was mortal
of Captain Nemo.
The light afforded by the lamp, although feeble, nevertheless enabled the
engineer to advance slowly, following the wall of the cavern. A deathlike
silence reigned under the vaulted roof, or at least in the anterior
portion, for soon Cyrus Harding distinctly heard the rumbling which
proceeded from the bowels of the mountain.
"That comes from the volcano," he said.
Besides these sounds, the presence of chemical combinations was soon
betrayed by their powerful odor, and the engineer and his companion were
almost suffocated by sulphurous vapors.
"This is what Captain Nemo feared," murmured Cyrus Harding, changing
countenance. "We must go to the end, notwithstanding."
"Forward!" replied Ayrton, bending to his oars and directing the boat
towards the head of the cavern.
Twenty-five minutes after entering the mouth of the grotto the boat
reached the extreme end.
Cyrus Harding then, standing up, cast the light of the lamp upon the
walls of the cavern which separated it from the central shaft of the
volcano. What was the thickness of this wall? It might be ten feet or a
hundred feet--it was impossible to say. But the subterranean sounds were too
perceptible to allow of the supposition that it was of any great thickness.
The engineer, after having explored the wall at a certain height
horizontally, fastened the lamp to the end of an oar, and again surveyed
the basaltic wall at a greater elevation.
There, through scarcely visible clefts and joinings, escaped a pungent
vapor, which infected the atmosphere of the cavern. The wall was broken by
large cracks, some of which extended to within two or three feet of the
water's edge.
Cyrus Harding thought for a brief space. Then he said in a low voice,--
"Yes! the captain was right! The danger lies there, and a terrible
danger!"
Ayrton said not a word, but, upon a sign from Cyrus Harding, resumed the
oars, and half an hour later the engineer and he reached the entrance of
Dakkar Grotto.
Chapter 19
The next day, the 8th day of January, after a day and night passed at the
corral, where they left all in order, Cyrus Harding and Ayrton arrived at
Granite House.
The engineer immediately called his companions together, and informed
them of the imminent danger which threatened Lincoln Island, and from which
no human power could deliver them.
"My friends," he said, and his voice betrayed the depth of his emotion,
"our island is not among those which will endure while this earth endures.
It is doomed to more or less speedy destruction, the cause of which it
bears within itself, and from which nothing can save it."
The colonists looked at each other, then at the engineer. They did not
clearly comprehend him.
"Explain yourself, Cyrus!" said Gideon Spilett.
"I will do so," replied Cyrus Harding, "or rather I will simply afford
you the explanation which, during our few minutes of private conversation,
was given me by Captain Nemo."
"Captain Nemo!" exclaimed the colonists.
"Yes, and it was the last service he desired to render us before his
death!"
"The last service!" exclaimed Pencroft, "the last service! You will see
that though he is dead he will render us others yet!"
"But what did the captain say?" inquired the reporter.
"I will tell you, my friends," said the engineer. "Lincoln Island does
not resemble the other islands of the Pacific, and a fact of which Captain
Nemo has made me cognizant must sooner or later bring about the subversion
of its foundation."
"Nonsense! Lincoln Island, it can't be!" cried Pencroft, who, in spite of
the respect he felt for Cyrus Harding, could not prevent a gesture of
incredulity.
"Listen, Pencroft," resumed the engineer, "I will tell you what Captain
Nemo communicated to me, and which I myself confirmed yesterday, during the
exploration of Dakkar Grotto.
"This cavern stretches under the island as far as the volcano, and is only
separated from its central shaft by the wall which terminates it. Now, this
wall is seamed with fissures and clefts which already allow the
sulphurous gases generated in the interior of the volcano to escape."
"Well?" said Pencroft, his brow suddenly contracting.
"Well, then, I saw that these fissures widen under the internal pressure
from within, that the wall of basalt is gradually giving way and that after
a longer or shorter period it will afford a passage to the waters of the
lake which fill the cavern."
"Good!" replied Pencroft, with an attempt at pleasantry. "The sea will
extinguish the volcano, and there will be an end of the matter!"
"Not so!" said Cyrus Harding, "should a day arrive when the sea, rushing
through the wall of the cavern, penetrates by the central shaft into the
interior of the island to the boiling lava, Lincoln Island will that day be
blown into the air--just as would happen to the island of Sicily were the
Mediterranean to precipitate itself into Mount Etna."
The colonists made no answer to these significant words of the engineer.
They now understood the danger by which they were menaced.
It may be added that Cyrus Harding had in no way exaggerated the danger
to be apprehended. Many persons have formed an idea that it would be
possible to extinguish volcanoes, which are almost always situated on the
shores of a sea or lake, by opening a passage for the admission of the
water. But they are not aware that this would be to incur the risk of
blowing up a portion of the globe, like a boiler whose steam is suddenly
expanded by intense heat. The water, rushing into a cavity whose
temperature might be estimated at thousands of degrees, would be converted
into steam with a sudden energy which no enclosure could resist.
It was not therefore doubtful that the island, menaced by a frightful and
approaching convulsion, would endure only so long as the wall of Dakkar
Grotto itself should endure. It was not even a question of months, nor of
weeks, but of days; it might be of hours.
The first sentiment which the colonists felt was that of profound sorrow.
They thought not so much of the peril which menaced themselves personally,
but of the destruction of the island which had sheltered them, which they
had cultivated, which they loved so well, and had hoped to render so
flourishing. So much effort ineffectually expended, so much labor lost.
Pencroft could not prevent a large tear from rolling down his cheek, nor
did he attempt to conceal it.
Some further conversation now took place. The chances yet in favor of the
colonists were discussed; but finally it was agreed that there was not an
hour to be lost, that the building and fitting of the vessel should be
pushed forward with their utmost energy, and that this was the sole chance
of safety for the inhabitants of Lincoln Island.
All hands, therefore, set to work on the vessel. What could it avail to
sow, to reap, to hunt, to increase the stores of Granite House? The
contents of the storehouse and outbuildings contained more than sufficient
to provide the ship for a voyage, however long might be its duration. But
it was imperative that the ship should be ready to receive them before the
inevitable catastrophe should arrive.
Their labors were now carried on with feverish ardor. By the 23rd of
January the vessel was half-decked over. Up to this time no change had
taken place on the summit of the volcano. Vapor and smoke mingled with
flames and incandescent stones were thrown up from the crater. But during
the night of the 23rd, in consequence of the lava attaining the level of
the first stratum of the volcano, the hat-shaped cone which formed over the
latter disappeared. A frightful sound was heard. The colonists at first
thought the island was rent asunder, and rushed out of Granite House.
This occurred about two o'clock in the morning.
The sky appeared on fire. The superior cone, a mass of rock a thousand
feet in height, and weighing thousands of millions of pounds, had been
thrown down upon the island, making it tremble to its foundation.
Fortunately, this cone inclined to the north, and had fallen upon the plain
of sand and tufa stretching between the volcano and the sea. The aperture
of the crater being thus enlarged projected towards the sky a glare so
intense that by the simple effect of reflection the atmosphere appeared
red-hot. At the same time a torrent of lava, bursting from the new summit,
poured out in long cascades, like water escaping from a vase too full, and
a thousand tongues of fire crept over the sides of the volcano.
"The corral! the corral!" exclaimed Ayrton.
It was, in fact, towards the corral that the lava was rushing as the new
crater faced the east, and consequently the fertile portions of the island,
the springs of Red Creek and Jacamar Wood, were menaced with instant
destruction.
At Ayrton's cry the colonists rushed to the onagers' stables. The cart
was at once harnessed. All were possessed by the same thought--to hasten to
the corral and set at liberty the animals it enclosed.
Before three in the morning they arrived at the corral. The cries of the
terrified musmons and goats indicated the alarm which possessed them.
Already a torrent of burning matter and liquefied minerals fell from the
side of the mountain upon the meadows as far as the side of the palisade.
The gate was burst open by Ayrton, and the animals, bewildered with terror,
fled in all directions.
An hour afterwards the boiling lava filled the corral, converting into
vapor the water of the little rivulet which ran through it, burning up the
house like dry grass, and leaving not even a post of the palisade to mark
the spot where the corral once stood.
To contend against this disaster would have been folly--nay, madness. In
presence of Nature's grand convulsions man is powerless.
It was now daylight--the 24th of January. Cyrus Harding and his
companions, before returning to Granite House, desired to ascertain the
probable direction this inundation of lava was about to take. The soil
sloped gradually from Mount Franklin to the east coast, and it was to be
feared that, in spite of the thick Jacamar Wood, the torrent would reach
the plateau of Prospect Heights.
"The lake will cover us," said Gideon Spilett.
"I hope so!" was Cyrus Harding's only reply.
The colonists were desirous of reaching the plain upon which the superior
cone of Mount Franklin had fallen, but the lava arrested their progress. It
had followed, on one side, the valley of Red Creek, and on the other that
of Falls River, evaporating those watercourses in its passage. There was no
possibility of crossing the torrent of lava; on the contrary, the colonists
were obliged to retreat before it. The volcano, without its crown, was no
longer recognizable, terminated as it was by a sort of flat table which
replaced the ancient crater. From two openings in its southern and eastern
sides an unceasing flow of lava poured forth, thus forming two distinct
streams. Above the new crater a cloud of smoke and ashes, mingled with
those of the atmosphere, massed over the island. Loud peals of thunder
broke, and could scarcely be distinguished from the rumblings of the
mountain, whose mouth vomited forth ignited rocks, which, hurled to more
than a thousand feet, burst in the air like shells. Flashes of lightning
rivaled in intensity the volcano's eruption.
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