Adrift in the Pacific-Two Years Holiday

by Jules Verne

  ‘If,’ said he, ‘the map is right, we shall find East River about seven miles from here, and we can easily do that before night.’

  ‘Why not strike off to the north-east so as to get to the mouth of the river direct?’ asked Wilcox.

  ‘That would save us a third of the way,’ said Webb.

  ‘So it would,’ said Donagan, ‘but why should we venture across this marshy country, which we do not know, and run the risk of having to come back here? If we keep along the shore of the lake, there is much less chance of our meeting with an obstacle.’

  ‘And then,’ added Cross, ‘it is important that we should explore the course of East River.’

  ‘Evidently,’ said Donagan, ‘for the stream gives us direct communication between the coast and Family Lake. Besides, as we go down it we can explore the forest on either side.’

  This point being decided, they set off at a good pace. There was a narrow path some three or four feet above the level of the lake, and along it ran the line of sandhills. As the sun rose, it became evident that in a few miles the scenery would change. And, in fact about eleven o’clock they stopped for lunch by a little creek under the shade of some huge beech-trees, whence, as far as the eye could reach towards the east rose a confused mass of verdure to mark the horizon.

  An agouti, shot by Wilcox during the morning, served for the meal, and was fairly well cooked by Cross, who was the Moko of the expedition. The meal over, Donagan and his friends were afoot again. The forest which bordered the lake, consisted of similar trees to those in Trap Woods, but the evergreen varieties were in greater number. There were many more pines, spruces, and green oaks than birches or beeches, and all were of superb dimensions. To his great satisfaction, Donagan found that the fauna was quite as varied as that of the rest of the island. Guanacos and vicugnas were frequently seen, and a flock of nandus was observed satisfying their thirst. Hares, maras, tucutucos, peccaries, and feathered game abounded in the thickets.

  About six o’clock a halt was made. The bank was cut through by a stream which ran out of the lake. This ought to have been, and was, East River. It was easily recognized, as Donagan found the traces of the fire on the spot where Briant had encamped during his expedition with Jack and Moko. To camp in the same place, light a fire on the ashes, and sleep under the same trees appeared the best thing to do, and that is what was done.

  Eight months before, when Briant had stopped at the same place, he little thought that four of his companions would come here in their turn, with the intention of living by themselves in this part of Charman Island. And perhaps Cross, Wilcox, and Webb, when they found themselves far from their comfortable beds in French Den, felt more regret at being there. But their fate was now bound up with Donagan’s, and Donagan was too vain to acknowledge his mistakes, too obstinate to abandon his plans, and too jealous to give in to a rival.

  Next morning Donagan proposed to cross the river at once.

  ‘Having done that,’ said he, ‘we can spend the day in getting down to the sea, which is under six miles from here.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Cross. ‘And it was on the left bank that Moko found the pine cones, and we can gather our food as we go.’

  The indiarubber boat was then unpacked, and as soon as it was in the water Donagan worked it across to the opposite bank, towing a line behind as he did so. With a few strokes of the paddle he was soon across the forty feet of the river’s width. Then, by pulling at the line, Wilcox, Webb, and Cross got the boat back while Donagan let out a line from his side, and so in four trips all were on the left bank of the river.

  That done, Wilcox folded up the boat as if it were a travelling-bag, and put it on his back. It would, of course, have been less fatiguing to have floated down East Rivet in the yawl, as Briant, Jack, and Moko had done, but the indiarubber boat could only take one passenger at a time, and the river voyage was not to be thought of.

  It was not easy travelling. The forest was so dense, the ground bristled with thick patches of underwood, and was strewn with branches broken off in the recent storms, and many were the swamps and quagmires round which the travellers had to go. Donagan found no traces of Baudoin’s passage through the forest, such as existed in Trap Woods, but there could be no doubt he had been there, for the map indicated exactly the course of the river right down to the bay.

  At noon a halt was made for luncheon, under the pine-trees, where Cross gathered a quantity of the fruit, on which they regaled themselves. Then, for the next two miles, the boys had to make their way through clumps of underwood, where, occasionally, they had to cut a path with their axes, so as not to stray too far from the river. On account of the delay this caused, it was not till seven o’clock that they got out of the forest. Night was coming on, and Donagan could make out nothing of the coast-line. All he could see was the long line of foam as he listened to the murmur of the sea rolling on to the beach.

  It was decided to camp where they were, in the open. A few grouse were cooked for supper, and the fire that had been lighted was kept in during the night. It was Donagan’s turn to watch. Wilcox, Cross, and Webb stretched themselves under the branches of a large parasol pine and, tired out by the long day’s work, were immediately asleep.

  Donagan had great difficulty in keeping awake. He succeeded, however; but when the time came for him to be relieved by one of his companions they were all so sound asleep that he could not make up his mind to wake any of them. The forest was so quiet that they were as safe as if they were at French Den. And so, having thrown a few handfuls of wood on the fire, Donagan lay down at the foot of the tree, and closed his eyes, to open them when the sun was up, lighting a wide horizon of sea.

  CHAPTER VI—THE BOAT OF THE BEACH.

  THE first thing Donagan did was to go down to the mouth of the river. There he and his friends looked out over the sea they viewed for the first time. It was as deserted as that on the other shore.

  ‘But,’ said Donagan, ‘if, as we have reason to believe, Charman Island is not far from the American continent, the ships which come through the Straits of Magellan bound for the ports of Chili and Peru ought to pass us to the eastward. And that is another reason why we should take up our quarters at Deception Bay; and although Briant has so called it, I hope it will not justify its name.’

  In making this remark Donagan was probably seeking an excuse, or at least a pretext, for a rupture with his comrades at French Den, but, at the same time, it was reasonable to suppose that ships bound to South American ports would appear on the eastern rather than the western side.

  At the river mouth, as Briant had stated, there was a little port well sheltered from the wind and sea. If the schooner had been driven on this coast, it would not have been impossible to save her, and keep her for the voyage home.

  In the rear of the rocks forming the little harbour were the outermost trees of the forest, which extended not only to Family Lake, but northwards to where they shut in the horizon. Briant had not exaggerated regarding the granite masses on the shore. There were plenty to choose from. But Donagan thought it advisable not to go far away from the river, and soon hit upon a place carpeted with fine sand, in which the party could be as comfortable as at French Den. The cavern would have sufficed for the whole colony, for it comprised a series of adjoining caves, which would form distinct rooms, instead of offering only the hall and store-room.

  The day was spent in exploring the coast for a couple of miles. Donagan and Cross shot a few tinamous, while Wilcox and Webb went fishing in East River, and caught half a dozen of the same species as in Zealand River, among them being two good-sized perch. There were millions of shell-fish in the innumerable ridges and hollows of the reefs that served as a breakwater to the harbour on the north-east; and fish there were in abundance among the seaweeds close by, so that there was no need of going four or five miles off in search of them.

  It will be remembered that Briant had made the ascent of an enormous rock, which somewhat resembled a bear in shape. D
onagan was also struck with the resemblance, and gave the name of Bear Rock Harbour to the sheltered Inlet at its foot.

  During the afternoon Donagan and Wilcox climbed Bear Rock, so as to have a good view over the bay. But neither ship nor land appeared eastward of the Island. The whitish patch which had attracted Briant’s attention in the north-east they did not see; either the sun was too low on the opposite horizon, or Briant had been the dupe of an optical illusion.

  In the evening Donagan and his companions had their supper under a group of superb nettle-trees, whose lower branches overshadowed the stream, and discussed the advisability of at once returning to French Den, to bring the things necessary for taking up their quarters at Bear Rock Cave.

  ‘I think,’ said Webb, ‘that we ought not to delay, for the journey round the lake will take several days.’

  ‘But,’ said Wilcox, ‘when we come back, would it not be better to have the boat down East River, as Briant did?’

  ‘That would save time,’ said Webb, ‘and also save us a good deal of work.’

  ‘What do you think, Donagan?’ asked Cross.

  ‘You are right, Wilcox,’ he replied. ‘By having the yawl, which Moko could manage—’

  ‘But would Moko agree to that,’ said Webb dubiously.

  ‘Why should he not?’ asked Donagan. ‘Have I not as much right to order him about as Briant? Besides, all he has to do is to pilot us across the lake.’

  ‘He would have to obey’ said Cross. ‘If we are obliged to bring all our things round by land, there will be no end of work. And I don’t think the chariot could get through the forest. We must have the yawl’

  ‘But if they refuse to give it to us?’ insisted Webb.

  ‘Refuse!,’ exclaimed Donagan. ‘And who will refuse?

  ‘Briant. Is he not the chief of the colony?’

  ‘Briant refuse!’ said Donagan. ‘Does the boat belong to him more than to us? If Briant dares to refuse—’

  Donagan did not finish the sentence. But it was evident that in this and every other matter Donagan would not submit to take orders from his rival.

  But, as Wilcox observed, there was no need to discuss the matter. In his opinion Briant would give his comrades every assistance in their removal to Bear Rock, and there was no need to get excited over the matter. The only question they need trouble themselves about was, should they go back at once to French Den?

  ‘It seems to be absolutely necessary,’ said Cross.

  ‘Then we start tomorrow?’ asked Webb.

  ‘No,’ said Donagan. ‘Before we start I should like to get round the end of the bay, so as to see the north part of the island. We could reach the north coast and be back again here in two days. Who can tell if there is not in that direction some land that Baudoin did not see, and so did not show on his map? It would not be reasonable to settle down here without finding this out.’

  Next morning, October the 14th, Donagan and his friends were off at daybreak along the shore to the northward. For three miles or more the masses of rock lay strewn between the forest and the sea, leaving at their base a sandy strip about a hundred feet wide. It was noon when the last rock was reached, and a halt made for lunch.

  Close by a stream ran into the bay, but as it flowed from north-east to north-west it appeared not to come from the lake. The waters it brought down from the northern part of the island flowed into the sea through a narrow gully, and Donagan named it North Creek, for it was not worth calling a river.

  A few strokes of the paddle sent the india-rubber boat across it and then the boys continued their way along its bank. It was about three o’clock. In following the creek Donagan had been thrown back towards the north-west more than he cared for, and was about to strike off to the north, when Cross suddenly shouted, —

  ‘Look, Donagan, look!’

  And with his hand he pointed to a large reddish mass that was moving under the trees between the long grass and reeds of the creek.

  Donagan made a sign to Webb and Wilcox not to stir; and, accompanied by Cross, with his gun ready for action, he glided off silently in pursuit of the moving mass.

  It was a large animal, which would have looked like a rhinoceros, if it had had a horn, and if its lower lip had been longer.

  There was the report of a gun, followed immediately by another. Donagan and Cross had fired. Evidently at the distance, about fifty yards, the bullets had produced no effect on the thick skin of the animal, which rushed from the reeds and disappeared in the forest.

  Donagan recognized it. It was an amphibian, and perfectly inoffensive, a brown-coated ‘anta,’ otherwise one of those huge tapirs frequently met with in the neighbourhood of South American rivers. As nothing could be done with such an animal, its escape was not regretted, although the sportsmen were not particularly pleased.

  In this part of the island the forest was very thick, and as the beech-trees were in thousands, Donagan gave it the name of Beech Forest, which took its place on the map alongside those of Bear Rock and North Creek already given.

  When evening came, nine miles had been covered. In as many more the travellers would reach the north point of the island, and that would be the work for the morrow.

  As soon as the sun rose, the boys were off. There were many reasons for not wasting time. The weather gave signs of changing. The wind, which blew from the west, began to freshen. Heavy clouds were racing along in the offing, but they were high up in the sky, and it was hoped they would not bring rain. Facing the wind, even if it blew a storm, would not frighten the explorers, but a heavy squall, with its usual accompaniment of a deluge of rain, would have put an end to the expedition, and forced them to return to the shelter of Bear Rock.

  They pressed on then, although the wind took them in flank. The day was a very disagreeable one, and evidently a bad night was to follow. A storm was coming on, and at five o’clock the roll of the thunder was heard amid the lightning flashes.

  Donagan and his comrades did not retreat. The idea that they were near their object encouraged them. Beech Forest still lay to the left, and at any moment they could take refuge under its trees. Besides, the wind was so violent that there was no fear of rain.

  About eight o’clock the hoarse murmur of the surf was heard. Evidently there was a bank of reefs off the shore of the island.

  But the sky, already veiled with thick vapours, grew darker. So long as the last rays of light did not fall, it was best to push on. Beyond the edge of the trees was a beach a quarter of a mile wide, and on this the waves were rolling white with foam, after being churned among the breakers to the north.

  The boys, although very tired, were still able to keep on. They wished to have at least a glimpse of this part of the Pacific while there was daylight. Was it a boundless sea, or only a narrow channel separating the island from a continent or another island?

  Suddenly Wilcox, who was a little in advance, came to a halt, and pointed to a dark mass on the edge of the shore. Was it a marine animal, some huge cetacean such as a whale, wrecked on the sound? Was it not rather a boat, which had been thrown ashore after drifting through the breakers?

  It was a boat thrown on its starboard side. And beyond, near the line of seaweed rolled up by the tide, Wilcox pointed out two bodies on the beach.

  Donagan, Webb, and Cross had at first stopped; but without thinking what they were doing, they ran up to the two bodies on the sand—corpses, perhaps!

  And then, seized with terror, and without thinking that a spark of life might linger, and that their immediate help might be necessary, they fled for refuge under the trees. The night was growing dark, although lighted every now and then by the lightning flashes; and in the darkness the growling of the tempest grew louder, as did the roar of the raging sea. The trees were being broken on all sides, not without danger to those sheltering beneath them; but to camp on the beach was impossible, for the sand, driven by the wind, swept through the air as in volleys of grape. Throughout the night the boys remained in this
place without being able to close their eyes for an instant. The cold tortured them cruelly; they were not able to light a fire, for it would have been blown about and scattered, with the risk of burning the dead branches on the ground.

  And it may have been that fear kept them awake. Whence came this boat? To what nation did these men belong? Was there any land near by from which a boat could come? Was there a ship that had foundered in the storm? All these hypotheses were admissible, and during the few lulls in the storm Donagan and Wilcox discussed them in a low voice.

  At the same time they became a prey to hallucinations. They imagined they heard distant cries when the wind fell a little, and, listening, they asked if other shipwrecked men were wandering on the beach? No, they were the dupes of an illusion. No despairing appeal rose amid the storm. Then they thought they had been wrong to yield to the first moment of terror, and they would have rushed out towards the breakers, at the risk of being blown down by the storm. And in this dark night, on an open beach swept by the spray of the rising tide, how were they to find the boat or the place where the bodies lay on the sand?

  But strength of mind and strength of body failed them now. Long as they had been left to themselves, long as they had begun to think themselves men, they found they had become children again in the presence of the first human beings they had met with, and which the sea had cast up as corpses. Then their composure returned to them, and they saw what their duty required them to do. In the morning, as soon as day appeared, they would go out to the edge of the beach, and bury the two shipwrecked men.