by Jules Verne
Thus spoke the sportsman, but Wilcox, with his natural aptitude for devising snares, showed himself more practical than Donagan, and began to put his idea into execution. His companions helped him to cut some twigs from the neighbouring trees, and these were placed across the mouth of the pit so as to hide it completely. It was a rudimentary snare, no doubt, but such a one is often used with success by the trappers of the Pampas.
So as to recognize the position of the pit Wilcox broke off a few branches from the trees at the edge of the forest. And then they all returned to the cave.
These expeditions were not unproductive. Feathered game abounded. Besides the bustards and tinamous there were a number of those martinettes, whose feathers, dotted with white, give them the look of guinea-fowl. Wood pigeons there were in flocks, antarctic geese, making passable eating when cooking has got rid of their oily flavour. Furred game was represented by tucutucos, a kind of rodent as good as rabbit in a stew; maras, russet-grey hares, with a black moon on the tail, and having all the edible qualities of the agouti pichis, with scaly coats; a kind of tatou, whose flesh is delicious, peccaries, a kind of small hog, and guaçulis, animals like deer, and just as active.
Donagan tried to stalk some of these, but as they were difficult to get at the consumption of powder and shot was not in proportion to the results obtained, much to the disgust of the sportsman. And this waste of ammunition evoked a few remarks from Gordon, which were received by Donagan’s partisans with as ill a grace as by himself.
During one of these excursions a supply was collected of two precious plants discovered by Briant on the first expedition to the lake. These were the wild celery, which grew in great abundance on the wet soil, and a cress, whose young shoots formed an excellent anti-scorbutic. These two vegetables figured at all the meals, being eaten for the sake of health.
As the cold had not yet frozen the surface of the lake and stream, a few trout were taken with the hook, besides a species of pike, very pleasant eating, providing the eater was not choked with the numerous bones. One day Iverson returned triumphant, carrying a good-sized salmon which had nearly broken his line.
Meanwhile many visits had been paid to the pit branched over by Wilcox: but no animal was taken, although a big piece of meat had been laid on it as a bait
On the 17th of May, however, something did happen. On that day Briant and a few others had gone off into the forest near the cliff. Their object was to see if there was any other cave close to French Den which might do as a store-house.
As they were approaching the pit, they heard a loud noise proceeding from it.
Briant struck off into the wood, and was soon joined by Donagan, who did not care to be behindhand. The others followed a few yards in the rear, with their guns at the ready, while Fan marched with her ears cocked and her tail stiff.
They were about twenty yards from the pit when the noise began again. In the middle of the branches was a hole through which some animal had fallen.
What the animal was, was not apparent. In any case the boys thought it best to be ready to defend themselves.
‘Seize it, Fan, seize it!’ said Donagan. And the dog ran off barking without any sign of fear.
Briant and Donagan ran towards the pit, and as soon as they had reached it they shouted out, —
‘Come! come!’
‘It is not a jaguar?’ asked Webb.
‘Nor a cougar?’ said Cross.
‘No,’ said Donagan, ‘it is an ostrich!’
It was indeed an ostrich, and the boys congratulated themselves that such birds frequented the forest, for their flesh is excellent—particularly in the fat part about the breast.
Although there was no doubt it was an ostrich, yet its mediocre size, its head like a goose’s head, the coat of small plumes which enveloped its body like a greyish white fleece, showed that it belonged to the species of nandu, so numerous on the Pampas of South America. The nandu cannot be compared with the African ostrich, but it was an honour to the island fauna.
‘We ought to take it alive!’ said, Wilcox.
‘Rather!’ said Service.
‘That will not be easy,’ said Cross.
‘We’ll try,’ said Briant.
The bird could not escape, because its wings did not allow it to rise to the level of the ground, and its legs could not get a footing on the vertical walls. Wilcox was consequently obliged to slip down into the pit at the risk of receiving a few blows from the bird’s beak, which might wound him severely. However, as he managed to throw his coat over the bird, so as to muffle its head, he escaped unharmed; and it was easy for him to tie its legs with two or three pocket-handkerchiefs, tied end to end, and then with a strong pull all together, the ostrich was hauled up to the bank.
‘Now we have got it,’ said Webb.
‘And what shall we do with it?’ asked Cross.
‘That is simple enough,’ said Service, who was never at a loss. ‘We will take it to the cave; we will tame it, and we’ll use it to ride upon. I’ll look after it like my friend Jack in “The Swiss Family Robinson”.’
That it was possible to use the ostrich in this fashion was doubtful, notwithstanding the precedent cited by Service; but as there was no difficulty in taking it to the cave, this was done.
When Gordon saw the nandu arrive he was a little alarmed at having another mouth to feed, but bethinking himself that the bird was a vegetarian, he gave it a cordial welcome. As to the youngsters, they were delighted to be near the bird—not too near, however—after it had been tied up with a long line. And when they heard that Service intended to train it for riding, they made him promise to give them a mount.
‘Yes, if you are very good, babies,’ said Service, whom the youngsters already looked upon as a hero.
‘We are sure to be that,’ said Costar.
‘What you, Costar?’ said Service, ‘you daring to ride this terrible animal?’
‘Behind you—and holding on to you. Yes!’
‘Do you remember how you felt when you were on the back of the turtle?’
‘That is not the same thing,’ said Costar. ‘This thing doesn’t go into the water,’
‘But it goes into the air!’ said Dole.
And the two little fellows walked off to think about this.
As may be imagined, as soon as they had got things into order at the cave, Gordon and his comrades had organized the daily life in a regular way, giving every one something to do, and taking particular care that the little ones were not left to themselves. They, of course, asked for nothing better than to be set to work as far as their strength permitted, but why should they not continue the lessons they had begun at Charman’s School?
‘We have the books to help us go on with the work,’ said Gordon. ‘And what we have learnt we can teach, and it is only right we should give our little friends the benefit of it.’
‘Yes,’ answered Briant, ‘and if we leave the island and get back to our friends, we can show them that we have not wasted any time.’
It was agreed that a scheme of work should be drawn up, and that after it had been submitted for general approval, it should be scrupulously adhered to. During the winter there would be many days when some of the boys would not be able to go out, and it was desirable that they should be profitably employed. But the smallness of the cave was a great inconvenience, and it was resolved to set to work forthwith to increase its dimensions.
CHAPTER XII—THE COLONY.
THE boys had often looked along the cliffs in the hope of finding another cave. If they had discovered one, they would have used it as a general store for what had now to be left out in the open. But the search had been in vain, and they had had to return to the scheme of enlarging their dwelling-place by digging into the walls.
There was no difficulty in doing this in the soft limestone, and the work would give them something to do during the winter, and could be finished by the return of the fine season if no collapse or infiltration occurred—as was
not unlikely.
There was no need to take to blasting. The tools they had were sufficient for them to cut the hole for the chimney of the stove to be run out of, and Baxter had already been able, with some difficulty it is true, to enlarge the opening into the cave, so as to fit it with one of the doors from the schooner; and right and left of the door two embrasures had been cut in the wall, admitting light and air to the interior.
The bad weather had set in a week ago. Violent storms had swept across the island, but the cave had not had to face them owing to its lying north and south. The rain and snow passed away over the crest of the cliff. The sportsmen had to leave the game alone in the vicinity of the lake, and the wild ducks, snipe, lapwing, rail, coot, and white pigeon remained undisturbed. The lake and the river had not yet been frozen, but it only required a quiet night when the first dry cold would succeed the storm for them to be covered with ice.
The work of enlarging the cave could thus be conveniently begun, and a start was made on the 27th of May.
The right wall was first attacked.
‘If we dig on the slant,’ said Briant, ‘we may come out by the lake-side, and so get a second entrance. That would give us a better look-out, and if the bad weather kept us in on one side, we might get out on the other.’
This would in every way be an advantage, and there seemed to be no reason why the plan should not succeed.
Only forty or fifty feet separated the cave from the eastern face, and a gallery could easily be driven in the right direction, by compass, care being taken to avoid a fall or founder. Baxter’s plan was to begin with a narrow tunnel, and then enlarge it till it was of the required size. The two rooms of the cave could then be united by a passage, which could be closed at both ends, and one or two galleries driven right and left of it to give additional room. The plan was evidently a good one, it allowed of the rock being dug into with a due amount of precaution, so that any sudden inrush of water could be satisfactorily dealt with, and the excavation abandoned if necessary.
For three days, from the 27th to the 30th of May, the work went on favourably. The friable limestone could be cut with a knife; woodwork had to be used to support the roof of the gallery, but that was easily managed. The rubbish was taken outside, so as not to encumber the floor of the cave. There was not room enough for all hands to work at once, so the boys took it in turns. When the rain and snow ceased, Gordon and the elder boys took the raft to pieces,so that the deck and frame could be used up in another way. And they overhauled the things stowed away against the cliff which the tarpaulins did not cover satisfactorily.
The work of boring advanced gradually, not without many a stoppage to sound and make sure that progress was safe. Four or five feet had been excavated, when, in the afternoon of the 30th, something very unexpected happened.
Briant, on his knees in the hole, like a hewer in a coalmine, thought he heard a slight noise in the interior of the rock.
He stopped his picking and listened. Again the sound reached his ear.
To get out of the hole, and tell Gordon and Baxter, who were standing at the entrance, was the work of an instant.
‘It is an illusion,’ said Gordon. ‘You imagined you heard it.’
‘Take my place, then put your ear to the wall and listen.’
Gordon got into the hole, and stayed there a few minutes.
‘You are right,’ said he, ‘I hear a sort of distant growling.’
Baxter went in, and confirmed this.
‘What can it be?’ he asked.
‘I cannot think,’ said Gordon, ‘We must tell Donagan and the others.’
‘Not the youngsters,’ said Briant, ‘it would give them a scare.’
But as they all came in to dinner at the moment, the secret could not be kept.
Donagan, Wilcox, Webb, and Garnett, one after the other, went into the cavity and listened. But the sound had ceased, probably, for they heard nothing, and concluded that their comrades had been mistaken.
Mistake or no mistake, it was resolved to continue the work, and as soon as the meal was over, the digging recommenced. During the afternoon no noise was heard, but about nine o’clock in the evening the growling was distinctly heard through the rock.
Fan ran into the hole, and immediately came out again with unmistakable signs of irritation, her coat bristling, her lips showing her teeth, and barking loudly, as if in reply to the growling in the rock.
And then the alarm, mingled with surprise, that the smaller boys had hitherto felt, gave place to genuine fear. In vain Briant tried to soothe Dole, Costar, and even Jenkins and Iverson, until he at last got them to bed and to sleep.
Gordon and the others continued to discuss this strange phenomenon. Every now and then the growling would be heard, and Fan would reply to it with a loud bark. Fatigue at last overcame them, and they went to bed, leaving Briant and Moko to watch; and till daylight profound silence reigned in French Den.
All were up early next morning. Baxter and Donagan crawled to the end of the hole. No sound could be heard. The dog ran to and fro without showing any uneasiness, and made no attempt to dash herself against the wall as she had done the night before.
‘Let us resume work,’ said Briant
‘Yes,’ replied Baxter. ‘There will always be time to leave off if we hear any suspicious noise.’
‘Is it not possible,’ said Donagan, ‘that the growling was simply a spring in the rock?’
‘Then we should hear it now,’ said Wilcox, ‘and we don’t.’
‘That is so,’ said Gordon. ‘I think it more likely to have come from the wind in some fissure leading down from the top of the cliff.’
‘Let us go up on the top and see,’ said Service.
The proposition was agreed to.
About fifty yards away there was a winding path, giving easy access to the summit of the hill. In a few minutes Baxter and two or three others were walking up it over French Den. Their journey was useless. The ridge was clothed with short close herbage, and no fissure was discoverable by which a current of air or a stream of water could find its way in. And when the boys got down again they knew no more about the strange phenomenon than the youngsters, who were explaining it to themselves as being supernatural.
The work of digging the hole was resumed and continued to the end of the day. There was no repetition of the noise of the evening before, but Baxter examined the wall, and found that it sounded hollow. Was the tunnel going to end in a cave? Was it in this cave that the mysterious sound had arisen? There was nothing inadmissible in the hypothesis of a second excavation contiguous to the cavern in which they were working, and it was to be hoped that such a thing existed, as it would greatly reduce the labour of enlargement. As may be imagined, the boys worked with extraordinary ardour, and the day was one of the most tiring they had yet experienced. Nevertheless it would have passed without adventure, had not Gordon noticed that the dog had disappeared.
Generally, at meal-times, Fan was to be found near her master’s seat but now her place was empty.
They called Fan. Fan did not answer. Gordon went to the door. He called her again. Complete silence.
Donagan and Wilcox went out one along the bank of the stream, the other along the shore of the lake—but they found no trace of the dog.
In vain was the search extended for a few hundred yards round French Den. Fan was not to be found.
It was evident that the dog was not within call, for if she had been, she would have answered. Had she strayed away? That was unlikely. Had she perished in the jaws of some wild beast? That was possible, and it was the best explanation of her disappearance that offered.
It was nine o’clock at night. Thick darkness enveloped the cliff and the lake. The search had to be given up.
The boys went back to the cave. They were uneasy, and not only uneasy, but grieved to think that the dog had vanished, perhaps for ever.
Some stretched themselves on their beds, others sat round the table, not think
ing of sleep. It seemed that they were more alone than ever, more forsaken, more removed from the country and their friends.
Suddenly in the silence the noise broke out afresh. This time there was a long howl, and a cry of pain lasting for nearly a minute.
‘It is from over there, over there, that it comes!’ exclaimed Briant, rushing to the tunnel.
They all rose as if waiting for an apparition. Terror had seized upon the little ones, who hid themselves under their bed-clothes. When Briant came back he said, — ‘There must be a cavern beyond, the entrance to which is at the foot of the cliff.’
‘And in which it is probable that animals take shelter during the night,’ added Gordon.
‘That is it,’ said Donagan. ‘And to-morrow we must try and find it.’
At this moment a bark was heard, and then a howling. The sound came from the interior of the rock.
‘Can Fan be there?’ asked Wilcox, ‘and fighting with some animal?’
Briant went back into the tunnel and listened with his ear against the wall. But there was nothing more. Whether Fan was there or not, it was evident that there must be a second excavation which ought to communicate with the exterior, probably by some gap in the thicket of brushwood.
The night passed without either barking or howling being again heard.
Next morning the search was begun at break of day, but with no more result than the day before. Fan, sought for and shouted for all over the neighbourhood, did not come back.
Briant and Baxter took turns at the digging. Pickaxe and shovel were kept constantly at work. During the morning the tunnel was made two feet longer. From time to time the boys stopped to listen, but nothing could they hear.
After dinner the digging began again. Precautions were taken in case a blow of the pickaxe knocked through the wall and gave passage to an animal. The younger boys were taken out to the bank of the river. Gun in hand, Donagan, Wilcox, and Webb stood ready for anything that might happen.
About two o’clock Briant suddenly exclaimed. His pickaxe had gone through the limestone, which had fallen in and left a good-sized hole.