Part 28

The boat, fully rigged, having been pushed on rollers to the edge of the shore, was taken by the rising sea and floated amid the applause of the colonists, and particularly of Pencroff, who showed no modesty on this occasion. Besides, his vanity was bound to survive the completion of the vessel, since, after having built her, he was to be called upon to command her. The rank of captain was conferred upon him with the approval of all.

To satisfy Captain Pencroff, it was first necessary to give a name to the craft, and after several proposals long discussed, the votes united on that of Bonadventure, which was the Christian name of the honest sailor.

As soon as the Bonadventure had been lifted by the rising tide, it could be seen that she sat perfectly in her waterlines, and that she would sail properly under all points of sailing.

Moreover, the trial was to be made that very day, in an excursion off the coast. The weather was fine, the breeze fresh, and the sea smooth, especially along the southern shore, for the wind had been blowing from the northwest for an hour already.

"Embark! Embark!" cried Captain Pencroff.

But it was necessary to breakfast before departing, and it even seemed advisable to take provisions on board, in case the excursion should be prolonged until evening.

Cyrus Smith was likewise eager to try this boat, the plans of which had come from him, although, on the sailor's advice, he had often modified some parts of it; but he had not in her the confidence that Pencroff displayed, and as the latter no longer spoke of the voyage to Tabor Island, Cyrus Smith even hoped the sailor had given it up. It would indeed have been repugnant to him to see two or three of his companions venture far out in this bark, so small after all, and which measured no more than fifteen tons.

At half past ten, everyone was on board, even Jup, even Top. Nab and Harbert weighed the anchor which was biting the sand near the mouth of the Mercy, the brigantine was hoisted, the Lincolnite flag flew at the masthead, and the Bonadventure, directed by Pencroff, stood out to sea.

To leave Union Bay, it was first necessary to sail before the wind, and it was ascertained that, under this point of sailing, the speed of the craft was satisfactory.

After doubling Flotsam Point and Cape Griffe, Pencroff had to haul close to the wind, in order to skirt the southern coast of the island, and, after running several tacks, he observed that the Bonadventure could sail about five points off the wind, and that she held her own properly against leeway. She went about very well before the wind, having "way" on her, as sailors say, and even gaining in her tacking.

The passengers of the Bonadventure were truly delighted. They had there a good boat, which, if need be, might render them great service, and with this fine weather, with this steady breeze, the trip was charming.

Pencroff stood out to sea, three or four miles from the coast, abreast of Balloon Harbor. The island then appeared in all its extent and under a new aspect, with the varied panorama of its shoreline from Cape Griffe to Reptile Promontory, its foregrounds of forest in which the conifers still stood out against the young foliage of other trees barely in leaf, and that Mount Franklin, which dominated the whole and whose head was whitened by some snow.

"How beautiful it is!" cried Harbert.

"Yes, our island is fair and good," answered Pencroff. "I love her as I loved my poor mother! She received us, poor and lacking everything, and what does these five children who fell from the sky to her lack?"

"Nothing!" answered Nab. "Nothing, Captain!"

And the two worthy fellows gave three tremendous hurrahs in honor of their island!

Meanwhile, Gideon Spilett, leaning against the foot of the mast, was sketching the panorama that unfolded before his eyes.

Cyrus Smith looked on in silence.

"Well, Mr. Cyrus," asked Pencroff, "what do you say of our boat?"

"She appears to behave well," replied the engineer.

"Good! And do you believe now that she could undertake a voyage of some duration?"

"What voyage, Pencroff?"

"That to Tabor Island, for example?"

"My friend," answered Cyrus Smith, "I believe that, in a pressing case, one should not hesitate to trust to the Bonadventure, even for a longer crossing; but, as you know, I should see you depart with regret for Tabor Island, since nothing obliges you to go there."

"One likes to know one's neighbors," answered Pencroff, who was stubborn in his idea. "Tabor Island is our neighbor, and the only one! Politeness requires that one should at least go and pay her a visit!"

"The deuce!" said Gideon Spilett. "Our friend Pencroff is punctilious about conventions!"

"I am not punctilious about anything at all," retorted the sailor, whom the engineer's opposition vexed a little, but who would not have wished to cause him some pain.

"Consider, Pencroff," answered Cyrus Smith, "that you cannot go alone to Tabor Island."

"One companion will suffice me."

"Very well," replied the engineer. "It is therefore two colonists out of five that you risk depriving the colony of Lincoln Island of?"

"Out of six!" answered Pencroff. "You are forgetting Jup."

"Out of seven!" added Nab. "Top is worth another!"

"There is no risk, Mr. Cyrus," resumed Pencroff.

"Possibly, Pencroff; but, I repeat to you, it is to expose oneself without necessity!"

The stubborn sailor made no answer and let the conversation drop, fully determined to take it up again. But he little suspected that an incident was about to come to his aid and change into an act of humanity what was after all but a caprice, open to question. Indeed, after standing out to sea, the Bonadventure had just drawn near the coast again, heading toward Balloon Harbor. It was important to verify the channels left between the sandbanks and reefs, to buoy them if need be, since this little creek was to be the home port of the boat.

They were no more than half a mile from the coast, and it had been necessary to beat to windward. The speed of the Bonadventure was then very moderate, because the breeze, partly stopped by the high land, scarcely filled her sails, and the sea, smooth as glass, wrinkled only at the breath of the cat's-paws that passed capriciously.

Harbert stood in the forepart, in order to indicate the route to follow amid the channels, when he suddenly cried out:

"Luff, Pencroff, luff!"

"What is it?" answered the sailor, rising. "A rock?"

"No... wait," said Harbert... "I cannot see well... luff still... good... bear up a little..."

And as he spoke, Harbert, leaning along the side, rapidly plunged his arm into the water and rose again, saying:

"A bottle!"

He held in his hand a corked bottle, which he had just seized a few cable-lengths from the shore.

Cyrus Smith took the bottle. Without saying a single word, he made the cork fly, and drew out a damp paper, on which were read these words:

Castaway... Tabor Island: 153 deg. W. long. -- 37 deg. 11 min. S. lat.

CHAPTER XIII

"A castaway!" cried Pencroff, "abandoned a few hundred miles from us on that Tabor Island! Ah! Mr. Cyrus, you will no longer oppose my voyage project now!"

"No, Pencroff," answered Cyrus Smith, "and you shall depart as soon as possible."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."

The engineer held in his hand the paper he had withdrawn from the bottle. He meditated upon it for some moments, then, resuming speech:

"From this document, my friends," said he, "from the very form in which it is conceived, one must first conclude this: it is, firstly, that the castaway of Tabor Island is a man having fairly advanced knowledge in navigation, since he gives the latitude and longitude of the island, conformable to those we have found, to within a minute of approximation; secondly, that he is English or American, since the document is written in the English language."

"This is perfectly logical," answered Gideon Spilett, "and the presence of this castaway explains the arrival of the case upon the shores of the island. There has been a shipwreck, since there is a castaway. As to the latter, whoever he may be, it is fortunate for him that Pencroff had the idea of building this boat and of trying it today, for, a day's delay, and this bottle might have been broken on the reefs."

"Indeed," said Harbert, "it is a happy chance that the Bonadventure passed there, precisely when this bottle was still floating!"

"And does that not seem strange to you?" asked Cyrus Smith of Pencroff.

"It seems fortunate to me, that is all," answered the sailor. "Do you see anything extraordinary in that, Mr. Cyrus? This bottle had to go somewhere, and why not here as well as elsewhere?"

"You are perhaps right, Pencroff," answered the engineer, "and yet..."

"But," observed Harbert, "nothing proves that this bottle has been floating on the sea for long?"

"Nothing," answered Gideon Spilett, "and even the document appears to have been recently written. What do you think, Cyrus?"

"That is difficult to verify, and, besides, we shall know!" replied Cyrus Smith.

During this conversation, Pencroff had not remained inactive. He had gone about, and the Bonadventure, sailing large, all sails drawing, was running rapidly toward Cape Griffe. Each was thinking of that castaway of Tabor Island. Was it still time to save him? A great event in the life of the colonists!

They themselves were but castaways, but it was to be feared that another might not have been as favored as they, and their duty was to hasten to the aid of misfortune.

Cape Griffe was doubled, and the Bonadventure came to anchor about four o'clock at the mouth of the Mercy.

That very evening, the details relating to the new expedition were settled. It appeared advisable that Pencroff and Harbert, who knew the handling of a craft, should alone undertake this voyage. Departing the next day, October 11, they could arrive on the 13th during the day, for, with the wind then prevailing, no more than forty-eight hours were needed to make this crossing of a hundred and fifty miles. One day in the island, three or four days to return, it could therefore be counted that, on the 17th, they would be back at Lincoln Island. The weather was fine, the barometer rising without jumps, the wind seemed well established, all chances were therefore in favor of these brave fellows, whom a duty of humanity was about to draw far from their island.

Thus, it had been agreed that Cyrus Smith, Nab, and Gideon Spilett should remain at Granite House; but a protest arose, and Gideon Spilett, who forgot not his trade of reporter of the New-York Herald, having declared that he would go swimming rather than miss such an occasion, he was admitted to take part in the voyage.

The evening was employed in transporting on board the Bonadventure some bedding, utensils, weapons, ammunition, a compass, provisions for a week, and, this loading having been rapidly effected, the colonists remounted to Granite House.

The next day, at five o'clock in the morning, the farewells were made, not without a certain emotion on both sides, and Pencroff, filling his sails, directed himself toward Cape Griffe, which he was to double in order then to take directly the route to the southwest.

The Bonadventure was already a quarter of a mile from the coast, when her passengers perceived on the heights of Granite House two men who were making them a sign of farewell. They were Cyrus Smith and Nab.

"Our friends!" cried Gideon Spilett. "This is our first separation in fifteen months!..."

Pencroff, the reporter, and Harbert made a last sign of farewell, and Granite House soon disappeared behind the high rocks of the cape.

During the first hours of the day, the Bonadventure remained constantly in sight of the southern coast of Lincoln Island, which soon appeared no more than in the form of a green basket, from which emerged Mount Franklin. The heights, diminished by distance, gave it an appearance little fitted to attract ships to its landings.

Reptile Promontory was passed about one o'clock, but ten miles offshore. From this distance, it was no longer possible to distinguish anything of the western coast that extended to the flanks of Mount Franklin, and, three hours later, all that was Lincoln Island had disappeared below the horizon.

The Bonadventure behaved perfectly. She rose easily to the sea and made a rapid passage. Pencroff had rigged his jib, and, with everything aloft, she sailed in a straight direction, taken off the compass. From time to time, Harbert relieved him at the helm, and the hand of the young boy was so sure that the sailor had not a yaw to reproach him with.

Gideon Spilett chatted with one, with the other, and, if need be, lent a hand to the maneuvering. Captain Pencroff was absolutely satisfied with his crew, and spoke of nothing less than gratifying them "with a quarter of wine per watch"! In the evening, the crescent of the moon, which was not to be in its first quarter until the 16th, outlined itself in the solar twilight and soon went out. The night was dark, but very starry, and a fine day again announced itself for the morrow.

Pencroff, through prudence, took in the jib, not wishing to be surprised by some excess of breeze with canvas at the masthead. This was perhaps too much precaution for so calm a night, but Pencroff was a prudent sailor, and he could not have been blamed.

The reporter slept part of the night. Pencroff and Harbert relieved each other every two hours at the helm. The sailor trusted Harbert as himself, and his confidence was justified by the coolness and reason of the young boy. Pencroff gave him the course like a commander to his helmsman, and Harbert did not let the Bonadventure deviate a line.

The night passed well, and the day of October 12 elapsed in the same conditions. The direction to the southwest was strictly maintained during all that day, and if the Bonadventure did not undergo some unknown current, she should fetch up right on Tabor Island.

As for that sea which the craft was then traversing, it was absolutely deserted. Sometimes, some large bird, albatross or frigate-bird, passed within gunshot, and Gideon Spilett wondered if it was not to one of these powerful flyers that he had entrusted his last chronicle addressed to the New-York Herald. These birds were the only beings that seemed to frequent that part of the ocean comprised between Tabor Island and Lincoln Island.

"And yet," observed Harbert, "we are at the season when whalers usually direct themselves toward the southern part of the Pacific. Truly, I do not believe there is a sea more abandoned than this one!"

"It is not so deserted as that!" answered Pencroff.

"How do you mean?" asked the reporter.

"Why, since we are there! Do you take our boat for a wreck and our persons for porpoises?"

And Pencroff laughed at his jest. In the evening, according to the dead reckoning, it could be thought that the Bonadventure had covered a distance of a hundred and twenty miles since her departure from Lincoln Island, that is to say since thirty-six hours, which gave a speed of three and a third miles per hour. The breeze was weak and tending to calm. However, it could be hoped that the next day, at daybreak, if the reckoning was correct and if the direction had been good, they would have knowledge of Tabor Island. Therefore, neither Gideon Spilett, nor Harbert, nor Pencroff slept during that night of October 12 to 13. In expectation of the morrow, they could not defend themselves from a lively emotion. There were so many uncertainties in the enterprise they had undertaken! Were they near Tabor Island? Was the island still inhabited by that castaway whom they were going to aid? Who was this man? Would his presence bring some trouble into the little colony, so united until then?

Would he, moreover, consent to exchange his prison for another? All these questions, which would doubtless be resolved the next day, kept them awake, and, at the first nuances of day, they fixed successively their gazes on all points of the western horizon.

"Land!" cried Pencroff about six o'clock in the morning.

And as it was inadmissible that Pencroff had been mistaken, it was evident that the land was there. Judge of the joy of the little crew of the Bonadventure! Within a few hours, they would be on the shore of the island!

Tabor Island, a sort of low coast, barely emerged from the waves, was not more than fifteen miles distant. The cap of the Bonadventure, which was a little to the south of the island, was laid directly on it, and, as the sun rose in the east, some summits detached themselves here and there.

"It is but an islet much less important than Lincoln Island," observed Harbert, "and probably due like it to some submarine upheaval."

At eleven o'clock in the morning, the Bonadventure was no more than two miles off, and Pencroff, seeking a passage to land, advanced only with extreme caution upon those unknown waters.

They then embraced in its whole the islet, upon which stood out clumps of verdant gum-trees and some other large trees, of the nature of those that grew on Lincoln Island. But, something rather astonishing, not a smoke rose that indicated the islet was inhabited, not a signal appeared on any point of the shoreline!

And yet the document was formal: there was a castaway, and this castaway should have been on the watch!

However, the Bonadventure ventured between rather capricious channels that the reefs left between them and whose slightest sinuosities Pencroff observed with the utmost attention. He had put Harbert at the helm, and, posted in the forepart, he examined the waters, ready to take in his sail, the halyard of which he held in hand. Gideon Spilett, glass to his eye, traversed all the shore without perceiving anything. Finally, about noon, the Bonadventure struck with her stem a sand beach. The anchor was cast, the sails taken in, and the crew of the little craft landed.

And there was no doubting that this was indeed Tabor Island, since, according to the most recent charts, there existed no other island on this portion of the Pacific, between New Zealand and the American coast.

The craft was solidly moored, so that the reflux of the sea could not carry her off; then, Pencroff and his two companions, having well armed themselves, went up the shore, in order to gain a sort of cone, high from two hundred fifty to three hundred feet, which rose half a mile off.

"From the top of this hill," said Gideon Spilett, "we shall doubtless be able to have a summary knowledge of the islet, which will facilitate our researches."

"It is doing here," answered Harbert, "what Mr. Cyrus did at first on Lincoln Island, in climbing Mount Franklin."

"Identically," answered the reporter, "and it is the best way to proceed!"

While chatting, the explorers advanced following the edge of a meadow that ended at the foot of the cone itself. Flocks of rock-pigeons and sea-swallows, similar to those of Lincoln Island, flew up before them. Under the wood that lined the meadow on the left, they heard rustlings of brushwood, they caught sight of movings of grass that indicated the presence of very shy animals; but nothing until then indicated that the islet was inhabited.

Arrived at the foot of the cone, Pencroff, Harbert, and Gideon Spilett climbed it in a few moments, and their gazes traversed the various points of the horizon.

They were indeed upon an islet, which measured no more than six miles around, and whose perimeter, little fringed with caps or promontories, little hollowed with bays or creeks, presented the form of an elongated oval. All around, the sea, absolutely deserted, extended to the limits of the sky. There was not a land, not a sail in sight!

This islet, wooded over its whole surface, offered not that diversity of aspect of Lincoln Island, arid and wild on one part, but fertile and rich on the other. Here, it was a uniform mass of verdure, dominated by two or three low hills. Obliquely to the oval of the islet, a stream flowed across a wide meadow and went to throw itself into the sea on the western coast by a narrow mouth.

"The domain is restricted," said Harbert.

"Yes," answered Pencroff, "it would have been a little small for us!"

"And besides," answered the reporter, "it seems uninhabited."

"Indeed," answered Harbert, "nothing in it reveals the presence of man."

"Let us descend," said Pencroff, "and search."

The sailor and his two companions returned to the shore, to the place where they had left the Bonadventure.

They had decided to make on foot the tour of the islet, before venturing into the interior, in such a way that not a point should escape their investigations.

The beach was easy to follow, and, in a few places only, large rocks cut it, which could be easily turned. The explorers went down toward the south, putting to flight numerous bands of water-birds and herds of seals that threw themselves into the sea as far off as they perceived them.

"Those beasts," observed the reporter, "are not seeing men for the first time. They fear them, therefore they know them."

An hour after their departure, all three had arrived at the south point of the islet, terminated by a sharp cape, and they remounted toward the north along the western coast, equally formed of sand and rocks, which thick woods bordered in the background.

Nowhere was there trace of habitation, nowhere the imprint of a human foot, on all that perimeter of the islet, which, after four hours of march, was entirely traversed.

This was at least most extraordinary, and it must be believed that Tabor Island was not or was no longer inhabited. Perhaps, after all, the document was several months or several years old already, and it was possible, in this case, either that the castaway had been repatriated, or that he had died of want.

Pencroff, Gideon Spilett, and Harbert, forming more or less plausible hypotheses, dined rapidly on board the Bonadventure, so as to resume their excursion and continue it until night.

This was done at five o'clock in the evening, the hour at which they ventured under the woods. Numerous animals fled at their approach, and principally, one might even say only, goats and pigs, which, it was easy to see, belonged to European species. Doubtless some whaler had landed them on the island, where they had rapidly multiplied.

Harbert promised himself to take one or two couples alive, in order to bring them back to Lincoln Island.

It was therefore no longer doubtful that men, at some epoch, had visited this islet. And this appeared yet more evident, when, through the forest, appeared traced paths, trunks of trees felled with the axe, and everywhere the mark of human labor; but these trees, falling into rot, had been overthrown many years already, the axe-cuts were velvety with moss, and the grasses grew, long and thick, through the paths, which were difficult to recognize.

"But," observed Gideon Spilett, "this proves that not only have men landed on this islet, but moreover that they inhabited it for a certain time. Now, who were these men? How many were they? How many remain of them?"

"The document," said Harbert, "speaks of but one castaway."

"Well, if he is still on the island," answered Pencroff, "it is impossible that we should not find him!"

“Stories of the world, in your language.”