Part 42

Nab finished his account. The convicts had not shown themselves on the shore. Not knowing the number of the island's inhabitants, they could suppose that Granite-House was defended by a considerable force. They must have remembered that, during the attack on the brig, numerous gunshots had greeted them, both from the lower rocks and the upper rocks, and, no doubt, they did not wish to expose themselves. But the plateau of Grande-vue was open to them and was not raked by the fire from Granite-House. They therefore gave themselves up to their instinct for pillage, wrecking, burning, doing evil for evil's sake, and they withdrew only half an hour before the colonists arrived, whom they must have believed still confined to the corral.

Nab had rushed out of his hiding place. He had climbed back onto the plateau, at the risk of receiving a bullet there, he had tried to extinguish the fire that was consuming the poultry-yard buildings, and he had struggled, but uselessly, against the flames, until the moment when the cart appeared on the edge of the wood.

Such had been these grave events. The presence of the convicts constituted a permanent threat to the colonists of Lincoln Island, hitherto so happy, and who might expect still greater misfortunes!

Gédéon Spilett remained at Granite-House near Harbert and Pencroff, while Cyrus Smith, accompanied by Nab, went to judge for himself the extent of the disaster.

It was fortunate that the convicts had not advanced to the foot of Granite-House. The workshops of the chimneys would not have escaped devastation. But, after all, this evil might perhaps have been more easily repaired than the ruins piled up on the plateau of Grande-vue!

Cyrus Smith and Nab directed their steps toward the Mercy and went up its left bank, without encountering any trace of the convicts' passage. On the other side of the river, in the depth of the wood, they likewise perceived no suspicious indication.

Moreover, here is what might be admitted, according to all probability: either the convicts knew of the colonists' return to Granite-House, for they could have seen them pass on the corral road; or, after the devastation of the plateau, they had plunged into the jacamar wood, following the course of the Mercy, and were ignorant of this return.

In the first case, they must have returned toward the corral, now without defenders, and which contained precious resources for them.

In the second, they must have regained their encampment, and waited there for some occasion to renew the attack.

There would therefore be reason to anticipate them; but any enterprise intended to rid the island of them was still subordinate to Harbert's condition. Indeed, Cyrus Smith would not have too many of all his forces, and no one could, at this moment, leave Granite-House.

The engineer and Nab arrived on the plateau. It was a desolation. The fields had been trampled. The ears of the harvest, which was about to be gathered, lay on the ground. The other plantings had suffered no less. The kitchen garden was overturned.

Happily, Granite-House possessed a reserve of seeds that allowed these damages to be repaired.

As for the mill and the poultry-yard buildings, the onagga stable, the fire had destroyed everything. A few frightened animals roamed across the plateau. The fowls, which had taken refuge during the fire on the waters of the lake, were already returning to their usual place and paddling on the banks. There, all would have to be done over.

Cyrus Smith's face, paler than usual, denoted an inner anger that he controlled with difficulty, but he spoke not a word.

Once more he looked at his devastated fields, at the smoke still rising from the ruins, then he returned to Granite-House.

The following days were the saddest the colonists had yet passed in the island! Harbert's weakness visibly increased. It seemed that a graver illness, consequence of the deep physiological disturbance he had undergone, threatened to break out, and Gédéon Spilett foresaw such an aggravation in his state that he would be powerless to combat it! Indeed, Harbert remained in a sort of almost continual drowsiness, and some symptoms of delirium began to manifest themselves. Cooling drinks, those were the only remedies at the colonists' disposal. The fever was not yet very strong, but soon it appeared to establish itself in regular fits.

Gédéon Spilett recognized it on December 6. The poor child, whose fingers, nose, and ears became extremely pale, was first seized with slight shivers, with gooseflesh, with tremblings.

His pulse was small and irregular, his skin dry, his thirst intense. To this period soon succeeded a period of heat; the face flushed, the skin reddened, the pulse quickened; then abundant sweat appeared, after which the fever seemed to diminish. The fit had lasted about five hours.

Gédéon Spilett had not left Harbert, who was now taken with an intermittent fever, that was only too certain, and this fever must at all costs be checked before it became graver.

"And to check it," said Gédéon Spilett to Cyrus Smith, "a febrifuge is needed."

"A febrifuge!..." replied the engineer. "We have neither cinchona bark nor quinine sulfate!"

"No," said Gédéon Spilett, "but there are willows on the edge of the lake, and willow bark can sometimes replace quinine."

"Let us try then without losing an instant!" answered Cyrus Smith.

Willow bark, in fact, has been justly considered a substitute for cinchona, as well as the horse-chestnut, the holly leaf, the serpentaria, etc. It was evidently necessary to try this substance, though it was not equal to cinchona, and to employ it in its natural state, since the means were lacking to extract its alkaloid, that is to say, salicine.

Cyrus Smith went himself to cut from the trunk of a species of black willow a few pieces of bark; he brought them back to Granite-House, reduced them to powder, and this powder was administered that same evening to Harbert.

The night passed without grave incident. Harbert had some delirium, but the fever did not return in the night, and it did not return either the following day.

Pencroff took up some hope. Gédéon Spilett said nothing. It might be that the intermissions were not daily, that the fever was tertian, in a word, and that it would return the next day. Therefore, that next day was awaited with the liveliest anxiety.

It could be further remarked that, during the apyretic period, Harbert remained as if broken, with a heavy head and prone to dizziness. Another symptom that alarmed the reporter to the last degree: Harbert's liver began to congest, and soon a more intense delirium showed that his brain was also affected.

Gédéon Spilett was overwhelmed before this new complication. He took the engineer aside.

"It is a pernicious fever!" he said to him.

"A pernicious fever!" cried Cyrus Smith. "You are mistaken, Spilett. A pernicious fever does not declare itself spontaneously. One must have had the germ of it!..."

"I am not mistaken," replied the reporter. "Harbert must have contracted this germ in the island's marshes, and that suffices. He has already experienced a first fit. If a second fit occurs, and if we cannot prevent the third... he is lost!..."

"But this willow bark?..."

"It is insufficient," replied the reporter, "and a third fit of pernicious fever that is not checked by means of quinine is always mortal!"

Happily, Pencroff had heard nothing of this conversation. He would have gone mad.

One can understand in what anxieties the engineer and the reporter were during that day of November 7 and the night that followed.

Toward the middle of the day, the second fit occurred. The crisis was terrible. Harbert felt himself lost! He stretched out his arms toward Cyrus Smith, toward Spilett, toward Pencroff! He did not wish to die!... this scene was heart-rending. Pencroff had to be led away.

The fit lasted five hours. It was evident that Harbert would not withstand a third.

The night was frightful. In his delirium, Harbert said things that rent his companions' hearts! He raved, he fought against the convicts, he called for Ayrton! He besought this mysterious being, this protector, now vanished, and whose image haunted him... Then he fell back into a deep prostration that annihilated him entirely... Several times, Gédéon Spilett thought the poor boy was dead!

The following day, December 8, was but a succession of weaknesses. Harbert's emaciated hands clutched at his sheets. He had been given new doses of powdered bark, but the reporter expected no further result from it.

"If by tomorrow morning we have not given him a more energetic febrifuge," said the reporter, "Harbert will be dead!"

Night came -- the last night, no doubt, of this courageous, good, intelligent child, so superior to his age, and whom all loved as a son! The only remedy that existed against this terrible pernicious fever, the only specific that could vanquish it, was not to be found in Lincoln Island!

During this night of December 8 to 9, Harbert was seized with a more intense delirium. His liver was horribly congested, his brain attacked, and already it was impossible that he should recognize anyone.

Would he live until the morrow, until that third fit which must inevitably carry him off? It was no longer probable. His strength was exhausted, and, in the intervals of the crises, he was as if lifeless.

Toward three in the morning, Harbert uttered a frightful cry. He seemed to writhe in a supreme convulsion. Nab, who was near him, terrified, rushed into the neighboring room, where his companions kept watch!

Top, at that moment, barked in a strange fashion...

All re-entered at once and managed to hold down the dying child, who wished to throw himself out of his bed, while Gédéon Spilett, taking his arm, felt his pulse gradually rising...

It was five in the morning. The rays of the rising sun began to slip into the rooms of Granite-House. A fine day was announced, and this day was to be poor Harbert's last!... a ray glided as far as the table placed near the bed.

Suddenly, Pencroff, uttering a cry, pointed to an object placed on this table... it was a small oblong box, whose lid bore these words: quinine sulfate.

CHAPTER XI

Gédéon Spilett took the box, he opened it. It contained about two hundred grains of a white powder, some particles of which he carried to his lips. The extreme bitterness of this substance could not deceive him. It was indeed the precious alkaloid of cinchona, the anti-periodic par excellence.

This powder must be administered to Harbert without hesitation. How it came to be there, that would be discussed later.

"Some coffee," asked Gédéon Spilett.

A few moments later, Nab brought a cup of the warm infusion. Gédéon Spilett threw about eighteen grains of the quinine into it, and they managed to make Harbert drink this mixture.

There was still time, for the third fit of the pernicious fever had not manifested itself!

And, permit it to be added, it was not to return!

Moreover, it must be said also, all had taken up hope again. The mysterious influence had again exerted itself, and at a supreme moment, when one despaired of it!... After a few hours, Harbert rested more peacefully. The colonists could then speak of this incident. The intervention of the unknown was more evident than ever. But how had he been able to penetrate during the night even into Granite-House?

It was absolutely inexplicable, and, in truth, the way in which the "genius of the island" proceeded was no less strange than the genius itself.

During that day, and at intervals of about three hours, the quinine sulfate was administered to Harbert.

Harbert, from the next day, felt a certain improvement. Certainly, he was not cured, and intermittent fevers are subject to frequent and dangerous relapses, but care was not lacking to him. And then, the specific was there, and not far off, no doubt, was he who had brought it! Finally, an immense hope returned to all hearts.

This hope was not deceived. Ten days later, on December 20, Harbert entered convalescence. He was still weak, and a strict diet had been imposed on him, but no fit had returned. And then, the docile child submitted so willingly to all the prescriptions imposed on him! He so much wished to be cured!

Pencroff was like a man who has been pulled from the bottom of an abyss. He had fits of joy that bordered on delirium. After the time of the third fit had passed, he had clasped the reporter in his arms till he stifled him. Since then, he called him no longer but Doctor Spilett.

It remained to discover the true doctor.

"He will be discovered!" repeated the sailor.

And certainly, this man, whoever he was, must expect some rough embrace from the worthy Pencroff!

The month of December ended, and with it that year 1867, during which the colonists of Lincoln Island had just been so hardly tried. They entered the year 1868 with magnificent weather, superb heat, a tropical temperature, which the sea breeze happily refreshed.

Harbert was being reborn, and from his bed, placed near one of the windows of Granite-House, he breathed that salubrious air, charged with saline emanations, which restored him to health. He began to eat, and god knows what good little dishes, light and savory, Nab prepared for him!

"It was enough to make one wish one had been at death's door!" said Pencroff.

During all this period, the convicts had not shown themselves a single time in the environs of Granite-House. Of Ayrton, no news, and, if the engineer and Harbert still preserved some hope of finding him again, their companions no longer doubted that the unfortunate man had succumbed. However, these uncertainties could not last, and, as soon as the young boy should be fit, the expedition, whose result was to be so important, would be undertaken. But it was necessary to wait perhaps a month, for it would not be too much of all the forces of the colony to get the better of the convicts.

Besides, Harbert was doing better and better. The congestion of the liver had disappeared, and the wounds could be considered as definitively healed.

During this month of January, important work was done on the plateau of Grande-vue; but it consisted uniquely in saving what could be of the devastated crops, whether in wheat or in vegetables. The seeds and plants were gathered, so as to furnish a new harvest for the next half-season.

As for rebuilding the poultry-yard buildings, the mill, the stables, Cyrus Smith preferred to wait.

While his companions and he should be in pursuit of the convicts, these might well pay a new visit to the plateau, and it was not well to give them cause to resume their trade of pillagers and incendiaries. When the island should be purged of these malefactors, they would see about rebuilding.

The young convalescent had begun to get up in the second fortnight of the month of January, first one hour a day, then two, then three. Strength returned to him visibly, so vigorous was his constitution. He was then eighteen years old. He was tall and promised to become a man of noble and fine bearing.

From that moment, his convalescence, while still requiring some care -- and Doctor Spilett showed himself very strict -- progressed regularly.

Toward the end of the month, Harbert was already walking the plateau of Grande-vue and the shores. A few sea-baths that he took in company with Pencroff and Nab did him the greatest good. Cyrus Smith thought he could now indicate the day of departure, which was fixed for the coming February 15. The nights, very clear at this time of year, would be propitious to the researches that must be made over the whole island.

The preparations demanded by this exploration were therefore begun, and they were to be important, for the colonists had sworn not to return to Granite-House before their double aim was attained: on the one hand, to destroy the convicts and find Ayrton again, if he still lived; on the other, to discover him who so efficaciously presided over the destinies of the colony. Of Lincoln Island, the colonists knew thoroughly all the eastern coast from Cape Griffe to the Mandible Capes, the vast marshes of the tadornes, the environs of Lake Grant, the jacamar woods comprised between the corral road and the Mercy, the courses of the Mercy and the Red Creek, and finally the foothills of Mount Franklin, between which the corral had been established.

They had explored, but only imperfectly, the vast littoral of Washington Bay from Cape Griffe to the Reptile Peninsula, the forest and marshy border of the west coast, and those interminable dunes that ended at the half-opened mouth of Shark Gulf.

But they had in no way reconnoitered the wide wooded portions that covered the Serpentine Peninsula, all the right bank of the Mercy, the left bank of the Waterfall River, and the tangle of those foothills and counter-valleys that supported three-quarters of the base of Mount Franklin to the west, north, and east, there where so many deep retreats no doubt existed. Consequently, several thousand acres of the island had still escaped their investigations.

It was therefore decided that the expedition should proceed across the Far-West, so as to embrace all the part situated on the right of the Mercy.

Perhaps it would have been better to direct themselves first upon the corral, where it was to be feared the convicts might have taken refuge again, either to pillage it or to install themselves there. But, either the devastation of the corral was now an accomplished fact, and it was too late to prevent it, or the convicts had had an interest in entrenching themselves there, and there would always be time to go and flush them from their retreat.

Therefore, after discussion, the first plan was maintained, and the colonists resolved to gain the Reptile Peninsula through the woods. They would go with the ax and thus throw the first trace of a road that should put Granite-House in communication with the extremity of the peninsula, over a length of sixteen to seventeen miles.

The cart was in perfect condition. The onaggas, well rested, could furnish a long haul.

Provisions, camping effects, portable kitchen, various utensils were loaded on the cart, as well as the arms and ammunition chosen with care from the now so complete arsenal of Granite-House. But it must not be forgotten that the convicts were perhaps roaming the woods, and that, amid these thick forests, a gunshot was quickly fired and received. Hence, necessity for the small troop of colonists to remain compact and not to divide under any pretext.

It was equally decided that no one should remain at Granite-House. Top and Jup, themselves, were to form part of the expedition. The inaccessible dwelling could guard itself alone.

February 14, the eve of departure, was a Sunday.

It was wholly consecrated to rest and sanctified by the thanksgivings that the colonists addressed to the Creator. Harbert, entirely cured, but still a little weak, was to have a reserved place on the cart.

The next day, at daybreak, Cyrus Smith took the necessary measures to put Granite-House beyond any invasion. The ladders that formerly served for the ascent were brought to the chimneys and deeply buried in the sand, so that they might serve for the return, for the drum of the lift was dismantled, and nothing remained of the apparatus. Pencroff remained last in Granite-House to finish this task, and he came down from it by means of a rope whose double was held below, and which, once drawn to the ground, left no longer any communication between the upper landing and the shore.

The weather was magnificent.

"A hot day in preparation!" said the reporter gaily.

"Bah! Doctor Spilett," answered Pencroff, "we shall march sheltered by the trees and shall not even see the sun!"

"Forward!" said the engineer.

The cart waited on the shore, before the chimneys. The reporter had required that Harbert take his place in it, at least during the first hours of the journey, and the young boy had to submit to his physician's prescriptions.

Nab put himself at the head of the onaggas. Cyrus Smith, the reporter, and the sailor took the lead. Top frisked about with a joyful air. Harbert had offered Jup a place in his vehicle, and Jup had accepted without ceremony. The moment of departure had arrived, and the small troop set out.

The cart first turned the angle of the mouth, then, after going up the left bank of the Mercy for a mile, it crossed the bridge at the end of which the port-balloon road began, and, there, the explorers, leaving this road on their left, began to plunge under the cover of those immense woods that formed the region of the Far-West.

During the first two miles, the trees, widely spaced, allowed the cart to circulate freely; from time to time it was necessary to cut some lianas and thickets of brushwood, but no serious obstacle stopped the colonists' march.

The thick foliage of the trees maintained a fresh shade on the ground. Deodars, douglas, casuarinas, banksias, gum-trees, dragon-trees and other species already recognized, succeeded one another beyond the limits of sight. The world of birds usual to the island was found there complete, grouse, jacamars, pheasants, lories and all the babbling family of cockatoos, parakeets and parrots. Agoutis, kangaroos, capybaras slipped between the grasses, and all this recalled to the colonists the first excursions they had made on their arrival at the island.

"However," observed Cyrus Smith, "I remark that these animals, quadrupeds and fowls, are more timid than formerly. These woods have therefore been recently traversed by the convicts, whose traces we must certainly find again."

And, indeed, in many a place, one could recognize the more or less recent passage of a troop of men: here, branches broken on the trees, perhaps with the aim of marking the way; there, ashes of an extinguished fire, and footprints that certain clayey portions of the soil had preserved. But, in sum, nothing that appeared to belong to a definitive encampment.

The engineer had recommended his companions to abstain from hunting. The detonations of firearms might have given the alarm to the convicts, who were perhaps roaming the forest. Besides, the hunters would necessarily have been drawn to some distance from the cart, and it was strictly forbidden to march in isolation.

In the second part of the day, at about six miles from Granite-House, circulation became rather difficult. In order to pass certain thickets, it was necessary to fell trees and make a road. Before engaging therein, Cyrus Smith took care to send into these dense coppices Top and Jup, who conscientiously fulfilled their mandate, and when the dog and the orang returned without having signaled anything, it was that there was nothing to fear, neither on the part of the convicts, nor on the part of the wild beasts -- two sorts of individuals of the animal kingdom that their ferocious instincts placed on the same level.

In the evening of this first day, the colonists camped at about nine miles from Granite-House, on the bank of a small affluent of the Mercy, whose existence they ignored, and which must be attached to the hydrographic system to which this soil owed its astonishing fertility.

They supped copiously, for the colonists' appetites were sharply whetted, and measures were taken so that the night should pass without mishap. If the engineer had had to deal only with ferocious animals, jaguars or others, he would simply have lit fires around his camp, which would have sufficed to defend it; but the convicts, they, would have been rather attracted than stopped by these flames, and it was better in this case to surround themselves with profound darkness.

Surveillance was, besides, strictly organized. Two of the colonists were to keep watch together, and, every two hours, it was agreed they should be relieved by their comrades. Now, as, despite his protests, Harbert was exempted from guard, Pencroff and Gédéon Spilett, on the one hand, the engineer and Nab, on the other, mounted guard in turn at the approaches of the camp.

Besides, there were scarcely a few hours of night.

“Stories of the world, in your language.”