Adrift in the Pacific-Two Years Holiday

by Jules Verne

  Working at the hardest, this took three days, although there was not an hour to lose. A little ice had already appeared on the surface of the pools among the reefs and along the edge of the stream. The shelter of the tent became insufficient in spite of the fire. Sleeping close to each other, covered with the thickest wraps, Gordon and his companions found it difficult to put up with the cold. Hence the necessity of pushing on with the work for taking up their quarters in the cave, where they hoped to defy the winter, which in these latitudes is very severe.

  The deck had been fixed on as firmly as possible, so that it should not be displaced on the voyage; for that meant the swallowing up of the cargo in the bed of the stream; and to save such a catastrophe it was better to delay the departure for a day.

  ‘However,’ said Briant, ‘we must not delay our departure beyond the 6th of May.’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Gordon.

  ‘Because the day after to-morrow is new moon, and the tides will be higher for a few days after that. The higher they are, the easier we shall get up the river. Just think what a fix we shall be in if we have to tow this heavy raft or pole it up! We could never do it against the current!’

  ‘You are right,’ said Gordon. ‘We must be off in three days at the latest.’

  And all agreed to take no rest until the work was finished.

  On the 3rd of May they began to load the raft, being careful to trim it so as to keep it level. Every one was occupied in this work according to his strength. Jenkins, Iverson, Dole, and Costar took charge of the lighter things, the utensils, tools, and instruments, and laid them on the deck, where Briant and Baxter stored them under Gordon’s directions. The bigger boys busied themselves about the heavier things, such as the stove, the water-tanks, the windlass, the iron-work, the sheathing, &c., the rest of the timbers of the schooner, the ribs, the planking, the deck-rails, &c. In the same way were brought on board the bales of provisions, the casks of wine, ale, and spirits, not forgetting several sacks of salt that had been found among the rocks. To assist in the loading, Baxter had erected two spars which were kept in position by means of four stays. To the end of this crab was fastened a tackle working round one of the yacht’s launches, so that the things could be lifted off the ground and laid on the deck gently and quietly.

  All went on with so much prudence and zeal that in the afternoon of the 5th of May everything was in its place on board, and nothing remained but to cast off the raft’s moorings. That would be done next morning about eight o’clock, when the tide began to rise at the mouth of the stream.

  The boys doubtless imagined that their task being over they were to spend the rest of the day in taking things easy. They were destined to be disappointed, for Gordon made a proposition which gave them something else to do.

  ‘My comrades,’ he said, ‘we are now going away from this bay, and will no more be able to look out over the sea, and if any ship comes in sight of the island, we shall not be able to signal to her. It will therefore be best, I think, to rig up a mast on the cliff, and hoist one of our flags and keep it flying. That will probably be enough to attract the attention of any ship that may pass within sight of it.’

  The proposition having been adopted, the schooner’s topmast which had not been used in the raft, was dragged to the foot of the cliff where the slope by the river-bank was not too great and it required a good deal of effort to get it up the rugged acclivity abutting against the ridge. Success came at last, however, and the mast was firmly fixed in the ground. Then with a halliard Baxter hoisted the British flag, and the same moment Donagan saluted it by firing his gun.

  ‘Hallo!’ said Gordon to Briant ‘There is Donagan taking possession of the island in the name of Great Britain!’

  ‘I shall be much astonished if it doesn’t belong to Great Britain already,’ said Briant.

  Gordon’s reply was a grimace, and by his always speaking of it as ‘his island’ it seemed as though he had claimed it for the United States.

  Next morning at sunrise all were astir. The tent was taken down and the bedding carried on board the raft, with the sail put over it to protect it from the weather, which, however, promised to be favourable enough, although a change in the direction of the wind had brought a good deal of mist in from the sea.

  By seven o’clock everything was ready. The raft had been so loaded that it gave accommodation for the company for two or three days, and Moko had cooked enough food to last, so that a fire would not be needed.

  At half-past eight the boys all gathered on the raft. The bigger ones, armed with poles and spars, took up their places ready to steer it, for a rudder would have been no use in going with the stream.

  A little before nine o’clock the tide began to make itself felt, and the framework began to creak and groan.

  ‘Attention!’ shouted Briant.

  ‘Ready!’ said Baxter.

  These were at the hawsers which moored the raft fore and aft by the river-bank.

  ‘We are all ready!’ said Donagan, who with Wilcox was in the front of the raft.

  Soon the raft was afloat.

  ‘Cast off!’ said Briant.

  Away went the hawsers, and the heavily-loaded mass began to drift up stream, towing the yawl astern.

  Every one was pleased when the raft began to move. If the boys had built a sea-going ship they could not have been more satisfied with themselves! And their little sentiment of vanity may be forgiven them!

  The right bank of the river, as we know, was bordered with trees, and higher than the left, which ran along by the marsh. Briant, Baxter, Donagan, Wilcox, and Moko used every effort to keep the raft away from the banks, for it would never do to run aground, but at the same time they did not cross the stream, for the tide was stronger along the right bank, and the height of the bank gave better holding to their poles.

  Two hours after their departure they had floated about a mile. They had not grounded once or run ashore. But according to Briant’s estimate the river was quite six miles long, and as they could not hope to advance more than two miles with each tide, it would take them several tides to reach their destination.

  In fact about eleven o’clock, the ebb began to declare itself, and the boys had to bestir themselves to get the raft moored so that it did not drift back to the sea.

  Evidently the raft would make a fresh start in the evening, but to venture with it then would be dangerous.

  ‘I think it would be unwise,’ said Gordon. ‘We would expose the raft to the chances of collision or grounding, and the shock might smash it up. I think we had better wait till to-morrow, and go on with the day tide.’

  The proposition was too sensible not to meet with general approval. They might have to wait twenty-four hours, but the delay was preferable to risking the safety of the valuable cargo.

  Half a day and the whole of the night were thus passed in this place.

  Donagan and his sporting friends, accompanied by Fan, were soon ashore on the river-bank.

  Gordon advised them not to get far away, and they adopted his advice; and as they brought back two brace of fat bustards and a string of tinamous, their vanity was satisfied. Moko took charge of the game, to keep it for the first meal—breakfast, dinner, or supper—after reaching French Den.

  During the day Donagan had seen no trace of the ancient or recent presence of man in the forest. He had,however, seen some tall birds running off, which he had failed to recognize.

  During the night Baxter, Webb, and Cross were on the look-out, ready if necessary to double the hawsers, or give them a little slack when the tide turned. All went well. Next morning at a quarter to ten, the tide had risen high enough for the navigation to be resumed. The night had been cold, so was the day. The sooner the raft reached its destination the better. What would the boys do if the river froze, or if an iceberg came down from the lake to enter the bay? Here was something to think about, something they did not cease to worry over till they reached French Den.

  But it w
as impossible to go quicker than the flood-tide, impossible to go against the stream when the tide failed, impossible to advance more than a mile in an hour and a half. They reached the half of their journey. About one o’clock in the afternoon a halt was made at the opening of the swamp which Briant had had to go round in returning to the wreck. Advantage was taken of the halt to explore the part adjoining the river. For a mile and a half Moko, Donagan, and Wilcox in the yawl rowed away to the north, and stopped only when the water became too shallow. The swamp was a prolongation of the marsh, which extended along the left bank. It seemed very rich in water-fowl, and Donagan was able to shoot a few snipe to add to the bustards and tinamous in the larder on board.

  The night was very still and cold, with a quiet biting breeze that almost died away as it crossed the river-valley. Ice was formed in the stream, but only in thin flakes, which broke or melted at the least shock. In spite of every effort to keep warm, no one was comfortable on the raft. Among the youngsters, Jenkins and Iverson were, in a very bad humour, and complained bitterly at having had to leave the schooner; and Briant had to take them in hand and talk them to sleep.

  At length, in the afternoon of the next day, with the aid of the tide, which lasted till half-past three in the afternoon, the raft arrived in sight of the lake, and was run aground in front of the entrance to French Den.

  CHAPTER XI—A CAPTURE.

  THE landing took place amid shouts of joy from the youngsters. To them any change from the ordinary life was as good as a new game. Dole capered about on the bank; Iverson and Jenkins ran to the side of the lake; while Costar took Moko aside and said, —

  ‘Didn’t you promise us a good dinner?’

  ‘Yes, but you will have to do without that,’ said Moko.

  ‘And why?’

  ‘Because I shall have no time to get dinner to-day.’

  ‘What! No dinner?’

  ‘No, but there will be supper. And the bustards will be just as good for supper!’

  And Moko grinned and showed his white teeth.

  The youngster gave him a punch in token of good-will, and ran off to join his friends, whom Briant had warned not to get out of sight.

  ‘Are you not gone with them?’ he asked his brother.

  ‘No! I would rather stop here!’ answered Jack.

  ‘You had much better take a little exercise,’ said Briant. ‘I am not at all easy about you, Jack. You have something you are hiding from me. Are you ill?’

  ‘No! There is nothing the matter with me.’

  Always the same reply, which never satisfied Briant, who was resolved to have the matter cleared up some day, even at the cost of a scene with the obstinate boy.

  But there was no time to lose if the night was to be spent in French Den.

  At the outset the cave had to be visited by those who did not know it. And as soon as the raft was securely moored to the bank in a backwater away from the current, Briant asked his friends to accompany him. Moko had provided himself with one of the ship’s lamps, in which the flame, greatly increased by the power of the lenses, gave a remarkably bright light.

  At first the boys had to clear away the entrance. As the branches had been placed by Briant and Donagan so were they found: and consequently no human being, no animal, had tried to enter the cave.

  After the boughs were cleared away the boys glided through the narrow entrance. In the glare of the lantern the cave was much better lighted than by the resinous torches of the shipwrecked man’s candles.

  ‘Eh! we shall find this a tight fit,’ said Baxter, who had begun to measure the cave.

  ‘Bah!’ exclaimed Garnett ‘If we put the beds one over the other, like they do on board ship—’

  ‘Why?’ asked Wilcox. ‘We have only got to put them side by side on the ground—’

  ‘And then,’ said Webb, ‘we shall have no room to move about.’

  ‘Well,’ said Briant ‘you won’t move about that is all. Have you a better place to offer us, Webb?’

  ‘No—but—’

  ‘But,’ said Service, ‘the important thing is to have a place to shelter us. I did not suppose that Webb imagined he would find a complete mansion—with drawing-room, dining-room, bedroom, hall, smoking-room, bath-room—’

  ‘No, of course not,’ said Cross. ‘But is there any place where you can cook?’

  ‘Yes. Outside,’ said Moko.

  ‘That will be very inconvenient in bad weather,’ said Briant ‘I thought we should bring the stove inside tomorrow—’

  ‘The cooking-stove in the cave, where we eat where we sleep!’ exclaimed Donagan in a tone of unmistakable disgust.

  ‘Well, you can use your smelling-salts, Lord Donagan!’ exclaimed Service, laughing loudly.

  ‘If I like, I will, Mr. Cook’s Mate!’ said Donagan, with a frown.

  ‘All right! all right!’ said Gordon. ‘Whether the thing is nice or not we shall have to decide about it at once! If the stove is used for cooking, it will also do to keep us warm. As to getting some room by digging out chambers in the rock, we shall have all the winter for the work, if it can be done. But now let us take French Den as it is, and get into it as soon as possible.’

  The beds were then brought in and laid in order on the sand. Close as they were, the boys, accustomed to the small cabin of the schooner, did not find them any too close.

  This occupied the rest of the day. The large table of the yacht was then placed in the middle of the cave, and Garnett and the youngsters laid the cloth.

  Moko and Service had done their work well. A fireplace had been made between too large stones at the foot of the cliff, the fire being fed with dry wood gathered by Webb and Wilcox under the trees. About six o’clock the soup—that is to say, the meat biscuit which had to be boiled only for a few minutes—was giving forth a pleasing fragrance; a dozen tinamous, spitted on an iron bar, were roasting before a brisk fire over a dripping-pan, in which Costar would very much have liked to put his fingers; and while Dole and Iverson acted as turnspits, Fan followed their movements with significant interest.

  Before seven o’clock the boys were gathered round the table in the cave, which was their refectory and their dormitory. The benches, folding seats, and wicker chairs of the schooner had been brought in. The meal was a substantial one: hot soup, a piece of corned beef, roast tinamous, biscuit in place of bread, fresh water, with a tenth of brandy, a little cheese, and a few glasses of sherry by way of dessert, made ample amends for the poor bill of fare they had had of late.

  The day had been a tiring one. When hunger was satisfied the boys thought of little but going to sleep. But Gordon, moved by religious sentiment, proposed that they should visit the tomb of Baudoin, whose dwelling they now occupied. Night was darkening the horizon of the lake, and its waters were reflecting the last rays of the sun as they found the little mound and stood by the wooden cross.

  At nine o’clock the beds were occupied, and all were asleep except Donagan and Wilcox, whose turn it was to watch, and who kept up a large fire at the mouth of the cave to scare away dangerous visitors.

  The next day, the 9th of May, and the three days that followed, were spent by all hands in unloading the raft. Already the mist piling up with the west wind, announced a period of rain or snow. The temperature scarcely rose above freezing; and It was important that everything should be got into the cave as soon as possible.

  For a few days, in view of the urgency of the work, the sportsmen stayed at home. In the afternoon, when Moko lighted his fire, he had the satisfaction of declaring that it worked admirably, so that even in bad weather food could be cooked.

  During the following week Donagan, Webb, Wilcox, and Cross, together with Garnett and Service, had quite enough shooting to satisfy them. One day they had penetrated into the forest of birches and beeches by the side of the lake about half a mile from the cave. Here and there traces of the work of man were very evident There were ditches dug in the ground, covered with a network of branches, and too d
eep for animals falling into them to escape. But the state of these ditches showed that they dated from years ago, and one of them contained the remains of an animal which they failed to identify.

  ‘Anyhow, they are the bones of a good-sized animal,’ said Wilcox, who had slipped down into the ditch, and picked up the bones that had been bleached by time.

  ‘And it was a quadruped, for here are the bones of the four paws,’ added Webb.

  ‘Unless it was a five-footed animal,’ said Service, ‘and then it would be a show sheep or a phenomenal calf.’

  Always on the joke!’ said Cross.

  ‘Well, we are not forbidden to laugh,’ answered Garnett.

  ‘It is certain,’ said Donagan, ‘that the animal was a strong one. Look at the size of its head, and its jaw and teeth. Service may amuse himself with his show calves and exhibition sheep, but if this animal came to life, he would be in no mood to laugh.’

  ‘Well hit,’ said Cross, always ready to approve of what his cousin said.

  ‘Do you think, then,’ asked Webb of Donagan, ‘that the animal was a carnivore?’

  ‘Yes, there is no doubt of it.’

  ‘A lion? a tiger?’ asked Cross, who did not seem at all easy.

  ‘If not a tiger or a lion,’ answered Donagan, ‘at least a jaguar or a cougar.’

  ‘We must be on our guard,’ said Webb.

  ‘And not venture too far away,’ said Cross.

  ‘Do you hear, Fan,’ said Service, turning towards the dog. ‘There are big beasts here!’

  Fan gave a cheery bark which certainly betrayed no anxiety.

  The boys turned back to go to the cave.

  ‘An idea,’ said Wilcox. ‘If you cover this ditch with new brushwood, we might catch something!’

  ‘As you please, Wilcox,’ said Donagan, ‘though I would rather shoot a thing in the open than massacre it at the bottom of a pit.’