Part 43

The darkness was due rather to the thickness of the branches than to the disappearance of the sun. The silence was scarcely disturbed by hoarse howlings of jaguars and the chattering of monkeys, which seemed to annoy Master Jup in particular.

The night passed without incident, and the next day, 16 February, the march, rather slow than painful, was resumed through the forest.

That day, they could cover only six miles, for at every moment it was necessary to hew a way with the axe. True "settlers," the colonists spared the large and fine trees, whose felling, moreover, would have cost them enormous labor, and they sacrificed the small ones; but the result was that the road took a not very straight direction and was lengthened by numerous detours.

During this day, Harbert discovered new species, whose presence had not yet been noted on the island, such as tree ferns, with drooping fronds, which seemed to pour forth like the waters of a basin, carob trees, whose long pods the onaggas browsed with avidity and which furnished sweet pulps of excellent flavor. There, the colonists also found magnificent kauris, arranged in groups, and whose cylindrical trunks, crowned with a cone of verdure, rose to a height of two hundred feet. These were indeed the king-trees of New Zealand, as famous as the cedars of Lebanon.

As for the fauna, it presented no other specimens than those with which the hunters had hitherto been acquainted. However, they caught sight of, but without being able to approach, a pair of those large birds peculiar to Australia, sorts of cassowaries, called emus, which, five feet high and brown of plumage, belong to the order of waders. Top sprang after them with all the speed of his four legs, but the cassowaries easily outdistanced him, so prodigious was their rapidity.

As for the traces left by the convicts in the forest, a few were still found. Near a fire that appeared to have been recently extinguished, the colonists noticed footprints which were observed with extreme attention. By measuring them one after another according to their length and width, they easily recovered the tracks of the feet of five men. The five convicts had evidently camped at this spot; but—and this was the object of such minute examination!—they could not discover a sixth imprint, which, in this case, would have been the foot of Ayrton.

"Ayrton was not with them!" said Harbert.

"No," replied Pencroff, "and, if he was not with them, it is because those wretches had already killed him! But have those rogues no den where one could go and hunt them down like tigers!"

"No," replied the reporter. "It is more probable that they are going at random, and it is in their interest to wander thus until the moment when they are the masters of the island."

"The masters of the island!" cried the sailor. "The masters of the island!..." he repeated, and his voice was strangled as if an iron wrist had seized him by the throat.

Then, in a calmer tone:

"Do you know, Mr. Cyrus," said he, "what is the ball I have loaded into my rifle?"

"No, Pencroff!"

"It is the ball that passed through Harbert's chest, and I promise you that one will not miss its mark!"

But these just reprisals could not restore life to Ayrton, and, from this examination of the footprints left on the ground, it had to be, alas! concluded that there was no longer any hope of ever seeing him again!

That evening, the camp was established fourteen miles from Granite-House, and Cyrus Smith estimated that he could not be more than five miles from the Reptile Peninsula.

And, indeed, the next day, the extremity of the peninsula was reached, and the forest was crossed along its entire length; but no indication had permitted the discovery of the retreat where the convicts had taken refuge, nor that, no less secret, which gave shelter to the mysterious stranger.

CHAPTER XII

The following day, 18 February, was devoted to the exploration of all that wooded part which formed the coastline from the Reptile Peninsula to the Falls River. The colonists were able to thoroughly search this forest, whose width varied from three to four miles, for it was comprised between the two shores of the serpentine peninsula. The trees, by their great height and thick foliage, attested the vegetative power of the soil, more astonishing here than in any other portion of the island. It was like a corner of those virgin forests of America or central Africa, transported under this middle zone. This led to the belief that these superb plants found in this soil, moist in its upper layer but heated within by volcanic fires, a warmth which could not belong to a temperate climate. The dominant species were precisely these kauris and these eucalyptus which took gigantic dimensions.

But the aim of the colonists was not to admire these vegetal magnificences. They already knew that, in this regard, Lincoln Island would have deserved to rank among that group of the Canaries, whose first name was that of the Fortunate Isles. Now, alas! their island no longer belonged to them entirely; others had taken possession of it, scoundrels trod its soil, and they must be destroyed to the last. On the western coast, no further traces were found, however much care was taken to seek them. No more footmarks, no more broken branches on the trees, no more cooled ashes, no more abandoned camps.

"That does not surprise me," said Cyrus Smith to his companions. "The convicts landed on the island in the vicinity of Flotsam Point, and they immediately threw themselves into the forests of the Far-West, after crossing the tadornes' marsh. They therefore followed almost the route we took in leaving Granite-House. That explains the traces we recognized in the woods. But, arrived on the coastline, the convicts well understood that they would not find a suitable retreat there, and it is then that, having gone back toward the north, they discovered the corral...

"Where they may have returned..." said Pencroff.

"I do not think so," replied the engineer, "for they must well suppose that our searches will be directed to that side. The corral is for them only a place of supply, and not a definitive camp."

"I am of Cyrus's opinion," said the reporter, "and, according to me, it must be amid the foothills of Mount Franklin that the convicts will have sought a lair."

"Then, Mr. Cyrus, straight to the corral!" cried Pencroff. "We must finish, and so far we have lost our time!"

"No, my friend," replied the engineer. "You forget that we had an interest in knowing whether the forests of the Far-West did not enclose some dwelling. Our exploration has a double purpose, Pencroff. If, on the one hand, we must punish the crime, on the other, we have an act of recognition to accomplish!"

"That is well spoken, Mr. Cyrus," replied the sailor. "It seems to me, however, that we shall not find this gentleman unless he so pleases!"

And, truly, Pencroff only expressed the opinion of all. It was probable that the retreat of the stranger was no less mysterious than he himself was!

That evening, the wagon stopped at the mouth of the Falls River. The bivouac was organized according to custom, and the usual precautions were taken for the night. Harbert, become again the vigorous and healthy boy he was before his illness, largely profited from this open-air existence, between the ocean breezes and the invigorating atmosphere of the forests. His place was no longer on the wagon, but at the head of the caravan.

The next day, 19 February, the colonists, abandoning the coastline, on which, beyond the mouth, basalts of all shapes were so picturesquely heaped, went up the course of the river by its left bank. The road was partly cleared as a result of the previous expeditions which had been made from the corral to the west coast. The colonists then found themselves at a distance of six miles from Mount Franklin.

The engineer's plan was this: to observe minutely the whole valley whose thalweg formed the bed of the river, and to gain with circumspection the environs of the corral; if the corral was occupied, to take it by force; if it was not, to entrench themselves there and make it the center of operations which would have for object the exploration of Mount Franklin.

This plan was unanimously approved by the colonists, and they truly longed to have again taken full possession of their island!

They therefore marched in the narrow valley which separated two of the most powerful foothills of Mount Franklin. The trees, pressed upon the banks of the river, grew rare toward the upper zones of the volcano. It was a mountainous soil, rather broken, very proper for ambushes, and upon which they ventured only with extreme precaution. Top and Jup marched as scouts, and, throwing themselves right and left into the thick thickets, they rivaled in intelligence and skill. But nothing indicated that the banks of the watercourse had been recently frequented, nothing announced either the presence or the proximity of the convicts.

Toward five o'clock in the evening, the wagon stopped at about six hundred paces from the palisaded enclosure. A semicircular curtain of large trees still hid it.

It was therefore a matter of reconnoitering the corral, in order to know whether it was occupied. To go there openly, in full light, if the convicts were ambushed there, was to expose oneself to receive some ill blow, as had happened to Harbert.

It was better, then, to wait until night had come.

However, Gideon Spilett wished, without further delay, to reconnoiter the approaches of the corral, and Pencroff, at the end of his patience, offered to accompany him.

"No, my friends," replied the engineer. "Wait for night. I will not let one of you expose himself in broad daylight."

"But, Mr. Cyrus..." replied the sailor, little disposed to obey.

"I pray you, Pencroff," said the engineer.

"Very well!" replied the sailor, who gave another course to his anger by bestowing on the convicts the roughest terms of the maritime repertoire.

The colonists therefore remained around the wagon, and they carefully watched the neighboring parts of the forest.

Three hours passed thus. The wind had fallen, and an absolute silence reigned under the large trees. The breaking of the slightest branch, a noise of steps on the dry leaves, the gliding of a body among the grasses, would have been easily heard. All was tranquil. Besides, Top, lying on the ground, his head stretched out on his paws, gave no sign of uneasiness.

At eight o'clock, the evening appeared sufficiently advanced for the reconnaissance to be made under good conditions. Gideon Spilett declared himself ready to depart, in company with Pencroff. Cyrus Smith consented to it. Top and Jup had to remain with the engineer, Harbert and Nab, for it was necessary that a bark or a cry, launched inopportunely, should not give the alarm.

"Do not engage yourselves imprudently," recommended Cyrus Smith to the sailor and the reporter. "You have not to take possession of the corral, but only to ascertain whether it is occupied or not."

"It is agreed," replied Pencroff.

And both set out.

Under the trees, thanks to the thickness of their foliage, a certain obscurity already rendered objects invisible beyond a radius of thirty to forty feet. The reporter and Pencroff, stopping whenever any noise seemed suspicious to them, advanced only with the utmost precautions.

They walked apart from each other, in order to offer less hold to gunshots. And, to tell all, they expected, at every instant, that a detonation would resound.

Five minutes after having left the wagon, Gideon Spilett and Pencroff had arrived on the edge of the wood, before the clearing at the end of which rose the palisaded enclosure.

They stopped. Some vague gleams still bathed the prairie bare of trees. At thirty paces rose the door of the corral, which appeared to be closed. These thirty paces which it was necessary to cross between the edge of the wood and the enclosure constituted the dangerous zone, to employ an expression borrowed from ballistics. Indeed, one or several balls, issuing from the crest of the palisade, would have thrown to the ground whoever should have ventured upon this zone.

Gideon Spilett and the sailor were not men to draw back, but they knew that an imprudence on their part, of which they would be the first victims, would afterwards fall upon their companions. They killed, what would become of Cyrus Smith, Nab, Harbert?

But Pencroff, excited at feeling so near the corral, where he supposed the convicts had taken refuge, was about to advance, when the reporter retained him with a vigorous hand.

"In a few instants, it will be quite night," murmured Gideon Spilett in Pencroff's ear, "and that will be the moment to act."

Pencroff, convulsively clutching the stock of his rifle, contained himself and waited grumbling.

Soon, the last gleams of twilight completely faded. The shadow which seemed to issue from the thick forest invaded the clearing. Mount Franklin rose like an enormous screen before the horizon of the setting sun, and the darkness came rapidly, as happens in regions already low in latitude. It was the moment.

The reporter and Pencroff, since they had posted themselves on the edge of the wood, had not lost sight of the palisaded enclosure. The corral seemed absolutely abandoned. The crest of the palisade formed a line a little blacker than the surrounding shadow, and nothing altered its clearness.

However, if the convicts were there, they must have posted one of their number, so as to guard against all surprise.

Gideon Spilett pressed his companion's hand, and both advanced crawling toward the corral, their rifles ready to fire.

They arrived at the door of the enclosure without the shadow having been streaked by a single ray of light.

Pencroff tried to push the door, which, as the reporter and he had supposed, was closed.

However, the sailor could ascertain that the exterior bars had not been put in place.

One could therefore conclude that the convicts then occupied the corral, and that, probably, they had fastened the door, so that it could not be forced.

Gideon Spilett and Pencroff lent ear.

No noise inside the enclosure. The mouflons and the goats, asleep no doubt in their stalls, in no way disturbed the calm of the night.

The reporter and the sailor, hearing nothing, asked themselves if they should climb the palisade and penetrate into the corral. Which was contrary to the instructions of Cyrus Smith.

It is true that the operation could succeed, but it could also fail. Now, if the convicts suspected nothing, if they had no knowledge of the expedition attempted against them, if finally there existed, at this moment, a chance of surprising them, should one compromise this chance, by recklessly hazarding to cross the palisade?

Such was not the opinion of the reporter. He found it reasonable to wait until the colonists were all reunited to try to penetrate into the corral. What was certain was that one could arrive as far as the palisade without being seen, and that the enclosure did not appear to be guarded. This point determined, it was no longer a question but of returning toward the wagon, and they would see.

Pencroff, probably, shared this way of seeing, for he made no difficulty in following the reporter, when the latter withdrew under the wood. A few minutes after, the engineer was made acquainted with the situation.

"Well," said he, after reflecting, "I now have reason to believe that the convicts are not at the corral."

"We shall know well," replied Pencroff, "when we have climbed the enclosure."

"To the corral, my friends!" said Cyrus Smith.

"Do we leave the wagon in the wood?" asked Nab.

"No," replied the engineer, "it is our wagon of ammunition and provisions, and, if need be, it will serve us as a retrenchment."

"Forward then!" said Gideon Spilett.

The wagon left the wood and began to roll without noise toward the palisade. The darkness was profound then, the silence as complete as at the moment when Pencroff and the reporter had crawled away on the ground. The thick grass completely stifled the noise of steps.

The colonists were ready to fire. Jup, at Pencroff's order, kept to the rear. Nab led Top on a leash, so that he should not spring forward.

The clearing soon appeared. It was deserted.

Without hesitating, the little troop bore toward the enclosure. In a short space of time, the dangerous zone was crossed. Not a single shot had been fired. When the wagon had reached the palisade, it stopped. Nab remained at the head of the onaggas to hold them. The engineer, the reporter, Harbert and Pencroff then directed themselves toward the door, in order to see if it was barricaded internally... one of the leaves was open!

"But what were you saying?" asked the engineer, turning toward the sailor and Gideon Spilett.

Both were stupefied.

"On my salvation," said Pencroff, "this door was closed just now!"

The colonists then hesitated. Were the convicts then at the corral at the moment when Pencroff and the reporter were reconnoitering it? That could not be doubted, since the door, then closed, could not have been opened but by them! Were they still there, or had one of their number just gone out?

All these questions presented themselves instantly to the mind of each, but how to answer them? At this moment, Harbert, who had advanced a few steps inside the enclosure, precipitately drew back and seized Cyrus Smith's hand.

"What is it?" asked the engineer.

"A light!"

"In the house?"

"Yes!"

All five advanced toward the door, and, indeed, through the panes of the window which faced them, they saw a faint gleam flicker.

Cyrus Smith quickly made up his mind.

"It is a unique chance," said he to his companions, "to find the convicts shut up in this house, expecting nothing! They are ours! Forward!"

The colonists slipped into the enclosure, the rifle ready to be shouldered. The wagon had been left outside under the guard of Jup and Top, who had been attached there by prudence.

Cyrus Smith, Pencroff, Gideon Spilett, on one side, Harbert and Nab, on the other, skirting the palisade, observed that portion of the corral which was absolutely dark and deserted. In a few instants, all were near the house, before the door which was closed.

Cyrus Smith made a sign with his hand to his companions recommending them not to move, and he approached the pane, then weakly lighted by the interior light.

His gaze plunged into the single room, forming the ground floor of the house. On the table shone a lighted lantern. Near the table was the bed which formerly served Ayrton.

On the bed rested the body of a man.

Suddenly, Cyrus Smith drew back, and in a stifled voice:

"Ayrton!" cried he. Immediately, the door was rather burst than opened, and the colonists precipitated themselves into the chamber.

Ayrton appeared to sleep. His face attested that he had long and cruelly suffered. On his wrists and his ankles were seen broad bruises.

Cyrus Smith leaned over him.

"Ayrton!" cried the engineer, seizing the arm of him whom he had just found again in such unexpected circumstances.

At this call, Ayrton opened his eyes, and looking Cyrus Smith full in the face, then the others:

"You," cried he, "you?"

"Ayrton! Ayrton!" repeated Cyrus Smith.

"Where am I?"

"In the dwelling of the corral!"

"Alone?"

"Yes!"

"But they are going to come!" cried Ayrton. "Defend yourselves! Defend yourselves!"

And Ayrton fell back exhausted.

"Spilett," said the engineer then, "we may be attacked at any moment. Bring the wagon into the corral. Then, barricade the door, and return all here."

Pencroff, Nab and the reporter hastened to execute the orders of the engineer. There was not an instant to lose. Perhaps even the wagon was already in the hands of the convicts! In an instant, the reporter and his two companions had crossed the corral and regained the gate of the palisade, behind which one heard Top growl dully.

The engineer, leaving Ayrton for an instant, went out of the house, ready to fire. Harbert was at his side. Both watched the crest of the foothill which dominated the corral. If the convicts were ambushed in this place, they could strike the colonists one after another. At this moment, the moon appeared in the east above the black curtain of the forest, and a white spread of light was poured inside the enclosure.

The corral was entirely lighted with its clumps of trees, the little watercourse which watered it and its wide carpet of grasses. On the mountain side, the house and a part of the palisade stood out in white. At the opposite part, toward the door, the enclosure remained dark. A black mass soon showed itself. It was the wagon which entered the circle of light, and Cyrus Smith could hear the noise of the door which his companions were closing and whose leaves they were solidly fastening inside.

But, at this moment, Top, violently breaking his leash, began to bark with fury and sprang toward the back of the corral, on the right of the house.

"Attention, my friends, and aim!..." cried Cyrus Smith.

The colonists had shouldered their rifles and waited the moment to fire. Top still barked, and Jup, running toward the dog, made himself heard with sharp whistles.

The colonists followed them and arrived on the bank of the little brook, shaded by large trees.

And there, in full light, what did they see?

Five bodies, stretched on the bank!

They were those of the convicts who, four months previously, had landed on Lincoln Island!

CHAPTER XIII

What had happened? Who had struck the convicts?

Was it then Ayrton? No, since, an instant before, he dreaded their return!

But Ayrton was then under the empire of a profound drowsiness from which it was no longer possible to rouse him. After the few words he had pronounced, an overwhelming torpor had seized him, and he had fallen back on his bed, without movement.

The colonists, prey to a thousand confused thoughts, under the influence of a violent overexcitement, waited during the whole night, without quitting Ayrton's house, without returning to that place where lay the bodies of the convicts. As to the circumstances in which those had met death, it was likely that Ayrton could tell them nothing, since he did not himself know that he was in the corral house. But at least he would be in a position to relate the facts which had preceded this terrible execution.

The next day, Ayrton emerged from this torpor, and his companions cordially testified to him all the joy they felt at seeing him again, almost safe and sound, after a hundred and four days of separation.

Ayrton then related in few words what had passed, or at least what he knew.

The day after his arrival at the corral, the 10th of last November, at nightfall, he was surprised by the convicts, who had climbed the enclosure.

These bound him and gagged him; then, he was taken into a dark cavern, at the foot of Mount Franklin, there where the convicts had taken refuge.

His death had been resolved, and, the next day, he was going to be killed, when one of the convicts recognized him and called him by the name he bore in Australia. These wretches wished to massacre Ayrton! They respected Ben Joyce!

But, from that moment, Ayrton was exposed to the obsessions of his former accomplices. These wished to bring him back to them, and they counted on him to seize Granite-House, to penetrate into that inaccessible dwelling, to become the masters of the island, after having assassinated the colonists!

Ayrton resisted. The repentant and pardoned former convict would rather die than betray his companions.

Ayrton, tied, gagged, closely guarded, lived in this cavern for four months.

“Stories of the world, in your language.”