Part 38

An answer that by no means satisfied Pencroff. He held to "an explosion," and would not be shaken from it. Never would he consent to admit that in this channel, formed of a bed of fine sand like the shore itself, and which he had often crossed at low tide, there should be some unknown reef. Besides, at the moment the brig went down, the sea was high, that is to say it had more water than was needed to clear, without striking them, all rocks that would not be uncovered at low tide. Therefore, there could have been no collision. Therefore, the ship had not touched bottom. Therefore, it had blown up.

And it must be acknowledged that the sailor's reasoning was not without a certain soundness.

Toward half-past one, the colonists embarked in the pirogue and proceeded to the place of stranding. It was regrettable that the two boats of the brig could not have been saved; but one, as is known, had been broken at the mouth of the Mercy and was absolutely unusable; the other had disappeared in the engulfing of the brig, and, no doubt crushed by it, had not reappeared.

At this moment, the hull of the Speedy was beginning to show above the waters. The brig was more than lying on its side, for, after breaking its masts under the weight of its displaced ballast from the fall, it held itself almost keel in the air. It had been truly overturned by the inexplicable but frightful underwater action, which had at the same time manifested itself by the displacement of an enormous waterspout.

The colonists went around the hull, and, as the sea fell, they were able to recognize, if not the cause which had provoked the catastrophe, at least the effect produced. Forward, on both sides of the keel, seven or eight feet before the rise of the stem, the sides of the brig were frightfully torn open over a length of at least twenty feet. There opened two wide inlets of water that it would have been impossible to close. Not only the copper sheathing and the planking had disappeared, reduced no doubt to dust, but even of the frame itself, the iron bolts and the treenails that bound it, there was no trace. All along the hull, to the after quarters, the strakes, shredded, no longer held. The false keel had been separated with an inexplicable violence, and the keel itself, torn from the keelson in several places, was broken along its whole length.

"A thousand devils!" cried Pencroff. "There's a ship that will be hard to refloat!

"It will be impossible," said Ayrton.

"At any rate," observed Gédéon Spilett to the sailor, "the explosion, if there was an explosion, produced singular effects there! It burst the hull of the ship in its lower parts, instead of blowing up the deck and the topside! These wide openings appear to have been rather made by the shock of a reef than by the explosion of a powder magazine!

"There is no reef in the channel!" replied the sailor. "I admit anything you like, except the shock of a rock!

"Let us try to penetrate inside the brig," said the engineer. "Perhaps we shall know what to think as to the cause of its destruction."

It was the best course to take, and moreover it was fitting to inventory all the riches contained on board, and to arrange everything for their salvage.

Access to the interior of the brig was easy then.

The water was still falling, and the underside of the deck, now become the top by the overturning of the hull, was passable. The ballast, composed of heavy pig iron, had broken through it in several places. One heard the sea rustling, as it flowed out through the fissures of the hull.

Cyrus Smith and his companions, hatchet in hand, advanced on the half-broken deck. Boxes of all sorts encumbered it, and, as they had stayed in the water only a very limited time, perhaps their contents were not spoiled.

They occupied themselves therefore with putting all this cargo in a safe place. The water was not to return for some hours, and these few hours were used in the most profitable manner. Ayrton and Pencroff had fastened, at the opening made in the hull, a tackle that served to hoist the barrels and cases. The pirogue received them and transported them immediately to the beach. They took everything, indiscriminately, to make a sorting of these objects later. In any case, what the colonists could first ascertain with extreme satisfaction, was that the brig carried a very varied cargo, an assortment of articles of all kinds, utensils, manufactured products, tools, such as ships carry that do the great coasting trade of Polynesia. It was probable that a bit of everything would be found there, and it will be agreed that this was precisely what the colony of Lincoln Island needed.

However, — and Cyrus Smith observed it in silent astonishment, — not only the hull of the brig, as has been said, had enormously suffered from the whatever shock that had determined the catastrophe, but the fitting was devastated, especially toward the front. Bulkheads and stanchions were broken as if some formidable shell had burst inside the brig. The colonists could easily go from forward to aft, after having moved the cases which were extracted as they went. These were not heavy bales, whose displacement would have been difficult, but simple packages, whose stowage, moreover, was no longer recognizable.

The colonists then reached the after part of the brig, in that portion formerly surmounted by the poop. It was there that, according to Ayrton's indication, one must look for the powder magazine. Cyrus Smith thinking that it had not exploded, it was possible that some barrels might be saved, and that the powder, which is ordinarily enclosed in metal wrappings, had not suffered from contact with the water.

This, in fact, was what had happened. They found, amid a large quantity of projectiles, about twenty barrels, lined inside with copper, and which were extracted with precaution.

Pencroff convinced himself by his own eyes that the destruction of the Speedy could not be attributed to an explosion. The portion of the hull in which the magazine was situated was precisely that which had suffered least.

"Possible!" answered the stubborn sailor, "but, as for a rock, there is no rock in the channel!

"Then, what happened?" asked Harbert.

"I know nothing of it," answered Pencroff, "Mr. Cyrus knows nothing of it, and nobody knows or will ever know anything of it!"

During these various searches, several hours had passed, and the flood began to make itself felt. They had to suspend the salvage work.

Besides, there was no need to fear that the carcass of the brig would be carried away by the sea, for it was already embedded, and as solidly fixed as if it had been moored on its anchors.

One could therefore without inconvenience wait for the next ebb to resume operations. But, as for the vessel itself, it was indeed condemned, and one must even hasten to save the debris of the hull, for it would soon disappear in the shifting sands of the channel.

It was five o'clock in the evening. The day had been hard for the workers. They ate with great appetite, and, whatever their fatigue, they did not resist, after dinner, the desire to examine the cases of which the cargo of the Speedy was composed.

Most contained ready-made clothing, which, it is thought, was well received. There was enough to clothe a whole colony, linen for all uses, shoes for all feet.

"We are too rich now!" cried Pencroff. "But what are we going to do with all that?"

And, at every instant, burst the hurrahs of the merry sailor, when he recognized barrels of rum, hogsheads of tobacco, firearms and edged weapons, bales of cotton, implements of tillage, tools of carpenter, joiner, blacksmith, cases of seeds of all sorts, which their short stay in the water had not altered. Ah! Two years before, how opportune these things would have been! But after all, even now that these industrious colonists had equipped themselves, these riches would find their use.

Space was not lacking in the stores of Granite House; but, that day, time failed, they could not store everything. Yet one must not forget that six survivors of the crew of the Speedy had landed on the island, that they were presumably first-rate scoundrels, and that there was need to guard against them. Although the bridge of the Mercy and the drawbridges were raised, these convicts would not be stopped by a river or a brook, and, driven by despair, such knaves could be formidable.

They would see later what course it would be fitting to take with regard to them; but, meanwhile, they must watch over the cases and packages piled near the chimneys, and this the colonists, in turn, employed themselves at during the night.

The night passed, however, without the convicts having attempted some aggression. Master Jup and Top, on guard at the foot of Granite House, would quickly have signaled them.

The three following days, 19th, 20th and 21st of October, were employed in saving all that could have any value or utility whatsoever, whether in the cargo or in the rigging of the brig. At low tide, they cleared the hold. At high tide, they stored the saved objects. A large part of the copper sheathing could be torn from the hull, which, each day, embedded itself further. But, before the sands had engulfed the heavy objects that had sunk to the bottom, Ayrton and Pencroff, having several times dived to the bed of the channel, recovered the chains and anchors of the brig, the pigs of its ballast, and even the four cannons, which, relieved by means of empty barrels, could be brought to land.

One sees that the arsenal of the colony had gained no less from the salvage than the offices and stores of Granite House. Pencroff, always enthusiastic in his projects, already spoke of constructing a battery that would command the channel and the mouth of the river. With four cannons, he undertook to prevent any fleet, "however powerful it might be," from venturing into the waters of Lincoln Island! Meanwhile, when there remained of the brig only a useless carcass, bad weather came, which finished destroying it. Cyrus Smith had intended to blow it up in order to gather the debris on the coast, but a heavy northeast wind and a heavy sea allowed him to economize his powder. Indeed, in the night of the 23rd to the 24th, the hull of the brig was entirely broken up, and a part of the wreckage stranded on the shore.

As for the ship's papers, needless to say that, although he had minutely searched the lockers of the poop, Cyrus Smith found no trace of them. The pirates had evidently destroyed everything concerning either the captain or the shipowner of the Speedy, and as the name of its home port was not on the stern board, nothing could suggest its nationality. However, from certain forms of its bow, Ayrton and Pencroff had seemed to believe that this brig must be of English construction.

A week after the catastrophe, or rather after the happy but inexplicable outcome to which the colony owed its safety, nothing of the ship was seen, even at low tide. Its debris had been dispersed, and Granite House was rich with almost all that it had contained.

However, the mystery that hid its strange destruction would never have been elucidated, no doubt, if, on the 30th of November, Nab, roaming on the shore, had not found a piece of a thick iron cylinder, which bore traces of explosion. This cylinder was twisted and torn on its edges, as if it had been submitted to the action of an explosive substance.

Nab brought this piece of metal to his master, who was then occupied with his companions in the chimneys' workshop.

Cyrus Smith examined this cylinder attentively, then, turning toward Pencroff:

"You persist, my friend," he said to him, "in maintaining that the Speedy did not perish as a result of a collision?"

"Yes, Mr. Cyrus," answered the sailor. "You know as well as I that there are no rocks in the channel."

"But if it had struck this piece of iron?" said the engineer, showing the broken cylinder.

"What, that bit of pipe?" cried Pencroff in a tone of complete incredulity.

"My friends," resumed Cyrus Smith, "do you remember that before sinking, the brig rose to the top of a veritable waterspout?"

"Yes, Mr. Cyrus!" answered Harbert.

"Well, do you want to know what had raised that waterspout? It is this," said the engineer, showing the broken tube.

"This?" replied Pencroff.

"Yes! This cylinder is all that remains of a torpedo!"

"A torpedo!" cried the engineer's companions.

"And who had put it there, that torpedo?" asked Pencroff, who would not give in.

"All I can tell you is that it was not I!" answered Cyrus Smith, "but it was there, and you could judge of its incomparable power!"

CHAPTER V

Thus, then, everything was explained by the underwater explosion of this torpedo. Cyrus Smith, who during the war of the union had had occasion to experiment with these terrible engines of destruction, could not be mistaken. It is under the action of this cylinder, charged with an explosive substance, nitroglycerine, picrate or other matter of the same nature, that the water of the channel had risen like a waterspout, that the brig, struck in its bottom, had sunk instantly, and this is why it had been impossible to refloat it, so considerable had been the damage suffered by its hull. To a torpedo that would have destroyed an ironclad frigate as easily as a simple fishing skiff, the Speedy could not resist!

Yes! Everything was explained, everything... except the presence of this torpedo in the waters of the channel!

"My friends," then resumed Cyrus Smith, "we can no longer doubt the presence of a mysterious being, a castaway like us perhaps, abandoned on our island, and I say this so that Ayrton may be aware of what has strangely happened for two years. Who is this beneficent unknown whose intervention, so happy for us, has manifested itself in many circumstances? I cannot imagine it. What interest has he in acting thus, in hiding after so many services rendered? I cannot understand it. But his services are none the less real, and of those that, alone, a man disposing of a prodigious power could render us. Ayrton is his debtor as we are, for if it is the unknown who saved me from the waves after the fall of the balloon, it is evidently he who wrote the document, who put this bottle on the route of the channel and who made known to us the situation of our companion. I shall add that this case, so suitably provided with all that we lacked, it is he who conveyed and stranded it at the point of the wreck; that this fire placed on the heights of the island and which allowed you to land there, it is he who lit it; that this grain of lead found in the body of the peccary, it is he who fired it; that this torpedo which destroyed the brig, it is he who immersed it in the channel; in a word, that all these inexplicable facts, of which we could not account, are due to this mysterious being. Therefore, whoever he may be, castaway or exile on this island, we should be ungrateful if we believed ourselves released from all gratitude toward him. We have contracted a debt, and I have the hope that we shall pay it one day."

"You are right to speak thus, my dear Cyrus," answered Gédéon Spilett. "Yes, there is a being, almost almighty, hidden in some part of the island, and whose influence has been singularly useful to our colony. I shall add that this unknown appears to me to dispose of means of action that would savor of the supernatural, if in the facts of practical life the supernatural were acceptable. Is it he who puts himself in secret communication with us by the well of Granite House, and has he thus knowledge of all our projects? Is it he who tossed us this bottle, when the pirogue made its first excursion at sea? Is it he who threw Top from the waters of the lake and gave death to the dugong? Is it he, as everything tends to believe, who saved you from the waves, Cyrus, and that in circumstances where any other who had been but a man could not have acted? If it is he, he therefore possesses a power that makes him master of the elements."

The reporter's observation was just, and each felt it well.

"Yes," answered Cyrus Smith, "if the intervention of a human being is no longer doubtful for us, I concede that he has at his disposal means of action outside those which humanity disposes of. There is yet another mystery, but if we discover the man, the mystery will be discovered also. The question is therefore this: should we respect the incognito of this generous being or should we do all to reach him? What is your opinion in this regard?"

"My opinion," answered Pencroff, "is that, whoever he may be, he is a brave man, and he has my esteem!"

"Granted," resumed Cyrus Smith, "but that is not answering, Pencroff."

"My master," then said Nab, "I have the idea that we may search as much as we wish for the gentleman in question, but that we shall not discover him except when it pleases him."

"That's not stupid, what you say there, Nab," answered Pencroff.

"I am of Nab's opinion," answered Gédéon Spilett, "but that is no reason not to attempt the adventure. Whether we find or whether we do not find this mysterious being, we shall have, at least, fulfilled our duty toward him."

"And you, my child, give us your advice," said the engineer, turning toward Harbert.

"Ah!" cried Harbert, whose gaze brightened, "I should like to thank him, the one who saved you first and who saved us afterward!"

"Not averse, my boy," retorted Pencroff, "and me too, and all of us! I am not curious, but I would give one of my eyes to see face to face that particular! It seems to me he must be handsome, tall, strong, with a fine beard, hair like rays, and he must be lying on clouds, a big ball in his hand!"

"Why, Pencroff," answered Gédéon Spilett, "that is the portrait of God the father that you are making for us!"

"Possible, Mr. Spilett," replied the sailor, "but that is how I figure him!"

"And you, Ayrton?" asked the engineer.

"Mr. Smith," answered Ayrton, "I can hardly give you my opinion in this circumstance. What you shall do will be well done. When you wish to associate me with your searches, I shall be ready to follow you."

"I thank you, Ayrton," resumed Cyrus Smith, "but I should like a more direct answer to the request I have made of you. You are our companion; you have already several times devoted yourself for us, and, like all here, you must be consulted when it is a question of taking some important decision. Speak then."

"Mr. Smith," answered Ayrton, "I think that we should do all to find this unknown benefactor. Perhaps he is alone? Perhaps he suffers? Perhaps it is an existence to renew? I too, you have said it, I have a debt of gratitude to pay him. It is he, it can only be he who went to Tabor Island, who found there the miserable man you knew, who made you know that there was a wretch to save there!... it is therefore thanks to him that I have become a man again. No, I shall never forget it!"

"It is decided," then said Cyrus Smith. "We shall begin our searches as soon as possible. We shall leave no part of the island unexplored. We shall dig into it to its most secret retreats, and may this unknown friend pardon us in favor of our intention!"

During some days, the colonists actively employed themselves in the works of haymaking and harvest. Before putting into execution their project of exploring the still unknown parts of the island, they wished that all indispensable labor be finished. It was also the time at which the various vegetables from the plants of Tabor Island were gathered. Everything was therefore to be stored, and, happily, space was not lacking at Granite House, where one could have garnered all the riches of the island. The products of the colony were there, methodically arranged, and in a safe place, it may be believed, as much sheltered from beasts as from men. No humidity was to be feared in the middle of this thick mass of granite.

Several of the natural excavations situated in the upper corridor were enlarged or hollowed out, either with pick or with mine, and Granite House became also a general depot containing the provisions, the munitions, the tools and spare utensils, in a word all the material of the colony.

As for the cannons coming from the brig, they were pretty pieces in cast steel which, at the instances of Pencroff, were hoisted by means of purchases and cranes up to the very landing of Granite House; embrasures were contrived between the windows, and one could soon see them lengthen their shining muzzles through the granite wall. From this height, these firearms truly commanded the whole of Union Bay. It was like a little Gibraltar, and any ship that had moored offshore of the islet would have been inevitably exposed to the fire of this aerial battery.

"Mr. Cyrus," said Pencroff one day — it was the 8th of November — "now that this armament is finished, we must nevertheless try the range of our pieces."

"Do you think that is useful?" answered the engineer.

"It is more than useful, it is necessary! Otherwise, how to know the distance at which we can send one of these pretty balls with which we are supplied?"

"Let us try then, Pencroff," answered the engineer. "However, I think that we must make the experiment using not ordinary powder, of which I wish to leave the supply intact, but pyroxylene, which will never fail us."

"Will those cannons be able to support the deflagration of pyroxylene?" asked the reporter, who was no less desirous than Pencroff to try the artillery of Granite House.

"I believe so. Besides," added the engineer, "we shall act prudently."

The engineer had reason to think that these cannons were of excellent manufacture, and he knew about it. Made of forged steel, and loading at the breech, they must, by that very fact, be able to support a considerable charge, and consequently have an enormous range. Indeed, from the point of view of useful effect, the trajectory described by the ball should be as flat as possible, and this flatness can be obtained only on condition that the projectile be animated with a very great initial velocity.

"Now," said Cyrus Smith to his companions, "the initial velocity is in proportion to the quantity of powder used. The whole question reduces, in the manufacture of the pieces, to the use of a metal as resistant as possible, and steel is incontestably that of all metals which resists best. I have therefore reason to think that our cannons will support without risk the expansion of the gases of pyroxylene and will give excellent results."

"We shall be much more certain of it when we have tried!" answered Pencroff.

“Stories of the world, in your language.”