by Jules Verne
Half an hour afterwards the instruments had been brought, and the players began.
Immense surprise of the natives, and also immense delight at listening to this violoncello and these three violins, going at their loudest, and giving off music that was ultra-French.
The natives remained not unaffected, and it was clearly proved that their characteristic dances are instinctive, that they learn without masters—whatever Athanase Dorémus might think. The men and women strove to outdo each other in leaping and swaying when Sebastien Zorn, Yvernès, Frascolin, and Pinchinat attacked the furious rhythms of Orphée aux Enfers. The superintendent could not contain himself, and took part in a wild quadrille, while the professor of dancing and deportment veiled his face before such horrors. At the height of this cacophony, in which mingled the nasal flutes and the sonorous drums, the fury of the dancers attained its maximum of intensity, and we know not where it would have stopped, if something had not happened to put an end to this infernal choregraphy.
A Tongan—tall and very strong—wonder-struck at the notes which the violoncellist drew from his instrument, hurled himself on the violoncello, seized it, and rushed away with it, shouting, “Taboo! taboo!”
The violoncello was tabooed! It could not be touched again without sacrilege! The high priest, King George, the dignitaries of his court, the whole population of the island would rise, if this sacred custom were violated.
Sebastien Zorn did not care about this. He had no idea of parting with this masterpiece of Gand and Benardel. Off he went after the thief. In a moment his comrades were following in pursuit. There was a general stampede.
But the Tongan sprang along with such speed that they had to give up their attempt to catch him. In a few minutes he was far away, very far away.
Sebastien Zorn and the others, unable to do more, returned to find Calistus Munbar, out of breath. To say that the violoncellist was in a state of indescribable fury would be insufficient. He foamed, he choked! Tabooed or not, they would have to give him back his instrument. Even if Floating Island had to declare war against Tonga-Tabou—and had not war broken out for less serious motives?—the violoncello must be restored to its owner.
Fortunately, the authorities of the island had intervened in the matter. An hour later they had caught the native, and obliged him to bring back the instrument. The restitution was not effected without trouble, and a crisis was only just avoided in which the ultimatum of Cyrus Bikerstaff might, on this question of taboo, have perhaps raised the religious passions of the whole archipelago.
But the breaking of the taboo had to take place in regular form, according to the usual ceremonies. As was customary, a considerable number of pigs had their throats cut, and were cooked in a hole filled with hot stones, and there were sweet potatoes, taros, and macore fruits, which were also afterwards eaten, to the extreme satisfaction of the Tongan stomachs.
The violoncello had its strings let down in the fray, and Sebastien Zorn had to tune it up again, after ascertaining that it had lost none of its qualities by reason of the incantations of the natives.
CHAPTER VI.
IN leaving Tonga-Tabou, Floating Island steered northwest towards the Fiji archipelago, moving away from the tropic in the track of the sun, which was mounting towards the Equator. There was no need for haste. Two hundred leagues only separated it from the Fijian group, and Commodore Simcoe took it along at moderate speed.
The breeze was variable, but what mattered the breeze to this powerful concern? If, now and then, violent storms broke on this twenty-third parallel, the Pearl of the Pacific did not even dream of being anxious. The electricity which saturated the atmosphere was drawn off by the numerous conductors with which its buildings were provided. As to the rain, even in the torrents that the storm-clouds poured down, it was welcome. The park and the country grew verdant under it, rare as it was. Life passed under the most fortunate conditions, amid festivals, concerts, receptions. At this time, friendly communications between the sections were frequent, and it seemed as though nothing would threaten their safety in the future.
Cyrus Bikerstaff had no reason to repent of having given a passage to the New Hebrideans embarked at Captain Sard’s request. These natives endeavoured to make themselves useful. They set to work in the fields, as they had done at Tonga. Sarol and his Malays hardly left them during the day, and at night they returned to the two ports in which the municipality had given them quarters. No complaint was made against them. Perhaps an opportunity offered for converting them. Up to then they had not adopted Christianity, like a large number of the New Hebrides population, despite the efforts of the Anglican and Catholic missionaries. The clergy of Floating Island had considered this, but the Governor would allow no attempt of such a nature.
These New Hebrideans are between twenty and forty years of age. Darker in hue than the Malays, although they are not so well built as the natives of Tonga or Samoa, they were apparently endowed with more endurance. The little money that they had earned in the service of the Maristes of Tonga-Tabou, they kept with great care, and did not attempt to spend in alcoholic drinks, which would not readily have been sold to them. Being free of all expense, they had probably never been so happy in their savage archipelago.
Thanks to Captain Sarol, these natives would unite with their compatriots, and connive at the work of destruction, the hour of which was approaching. Then all their native ferocity would appear. Were they not the descendants of the murderers who have so formidable a reputation among the people of this part of the Pacific?
Meanwhile, the Milliardites lived in the thought that nothing could compromise an existence which had been so logically provided for and so wisely organized. The quartette continued their successful career. People were never tired of hearing them or applauding them. The works of Mozart, Beethoven, Haydn, Mendelssohn, were run through completely.
Besides the regular concerts at the casino, Mrs. Coverley gave musical evenings, which were largely attended. The King and Queen of Malecarlie many times honoured them with their presence. If the Tankerdons had not yet visited the mansion in the Fifteenth Avenue, at least Walter had become assiduous in his attendance at the concerts. It was certain that his marriage with Miss Coverley would come off some day or other. It was talked about openly in the Starboardite and Larboardite drawing-rooms. Even the witnesses to the inevitable marriage were named. The only thing wanting was the announcement from the heads of the families. Would anything happen that would oblige Jem Tankerdon and Nat Coverley to make it?
This circumstance, so impatiently expected, was soon about to take place. But at the cost of what danger, and how greatly the safety of Floating Island was menaced!
In the afternoon of the 16th of January, at about halfway between Tonga and Fiji,, a ship was signalled in the south-east. It seemed to be heading for Starboard Harbour, and was apparently a steamer of some eight hundred tons. No flag floated from its peak, and none was hoisted when it was within a mile of the island.
The ship did not attempt to enter one of the harbours, but apparently was passing, and doubtless would soon be out of sight.
The night came, very dark and moonless. The sky was covered with lofty fleecy clouds, which absorbed all the light and reflected none. There was no wind. The calm was absolute in sea and sky. The silence was profound amid the thick darkness.
About eleven o’clock came an atmospheric change. The weather became very stormy. The air. was rent by lightning until midnight, and the growls of the thunder continued, without a drop of rain falling.
Perhaps these rumblings, due to some distant storm, prevented the Customs’ officers on duty about the Stern Battery from hearing strange hissings and curious roarings, which troubled this part of the coast. These were not the hiss of the lightning or the rumbling of the thunder. The phenomenon, whatever it was, did not occur until between two and three o’clock in the morning.
Next day a new cause of uneasiness spread in the outer quarters of the town. The men
engaged in watching the flocks pasturing in the country were seized with a sudden panic and dispersed in all directions, some towards the ports and some towards the gate of Milliard City.
A serious fact was that fifty sheep had been half devoured during the night, and their remains were found in the vicinity of Stern Battery. A few dozen cows, hinds, bucks, in the enclosures of the park, and some twenty horses had met with the same fate.
No doubt these animals had been attacked by wild beasts. What wild beasts? Lions, tigers, leopards, hyænas? Was that improbable? Had any of these formidable carnivores ever appeared on Floating Island? Could it be possible for these animals to arrive by sea? Was the Pearl of the Pacific in the neighbourhood of the Indies, of Africa, of Malaysia, the former of which comprises these varieties of ferocious animals?
No! Floating Island was not near the mouth of the Amazon, or the mouth of the Nile, and yet, about seven o’clock in the morning two women ran into the square of the town hall who had been pursued by an enormous alligator, which had regained the banks of the Serpentine River and disappeared in the water. At the same time the agitation of the plants along the banks indicated that other saurians were struggling there at that very moment.
The effect of this incredible news can be judged. An hour afterwards the look-outs noticed several tigers, lions, and leopards bounding across the country. Several sheep running towards Prow Battery were attacked by two immense tigers. The domestic animals began to run about in all directions, terrified at the roar of the wild beasts. And so did the men whose occupations called them out into the fields in the morning. The first tram for Larboard Harbour had barely time to run into the siding. Three lions had pursued it, and in a hundred yards more would have reached it.
There was no doubt that during the night Floating Island had been invaded by a band of ferocious animals, and so would Milliard City if precautions were not immediately taken.
It was Athanase Dorémus who brought our artistes the news. The professor of dancing and deportment had gone out earlier than usual, and had not dared to return to his house. He had taken refuge in the casino, from which no human power could remove him.
“Come, now!” said Pinchinat. “Your lions and tigers and alligators are imaginary.”
But he had to yield to the evidence. The municipality had given orders to shut the town gates and bar the entrance to the ports and the custom-house stations along the coast. At the same time the service of trams was suspended, and people were prohibited from venturing into the park or the country until the dangers of this inexplicable invasion had been removed.
Then at the moment the gates were being closed at the extremity of the First Avenue near the square of the observatory, a couple of tigers had bounded from fifty yards beyond with eyes aflame and mouths open. A few seconds more and these ferocious animals would have been through the gate.
At the side of the town hall the same precaution had been taken, and Milliard City had nothing to fear from an attack.
What an incident, what a subject for copy, what varied reports in the Starboard Chronicle, the New Herald and other journals of Floating Island!
Terror was at its height. Mansions and houses were barricaded. The shops closed their shutters. Not a door remained open. At the windows of the upper storeys affrighted faces appeared. The only people in the streets were the detachments of militia under the orders of Colonel Stewart and the police under the command of their officers.
Cyrus Bikerstaff and his assistants, Barthélemy Ruge and Hubley Harcourt, who had met at the earliest moment, remained on duty at the town hall. By the telegraph from the two ports, the batteries and the posts along the shore, the municipality received the most disquieting news. There were wild beasts almost every where, hundreds at least, said the telegrams, to which perhaps fear had added a cipher too many. It was undoubtedly the case that a number of lions, tigers, panthers, and caymans were at large in the island.
What, then, had happened? Had a menagerie broken out of its cages and taken refuge on Floating Island? But whence had this menagerie come? What ship had brought it? Was it the steamer that had been seen the evening before? If so, where had this steamer come from? Had she communicated with the shore during the night? Had the animals swum ashore and landed on the low part of the coast near the mouth of Serpentine River? Had the ship sunk immediately afterwards? And yet, as far as the look-outs could see, as far as Commodore Simcoe’s glasses could carry, there was not a fragment of wreckage on the surface of the sea, and Floating Island had hardly moved during the night! Besides, if this ship had foundered, why had not the crew taken refuge on the island as the carnivores had done?
The telephone from the town hall questioned the different posts on this subject, and the posts replied that there had been neither collision nor shipwreck. There could be no mistake in this matter, although the darkness had been profound. Evidently, of all the hypotheses this was the least likely.
“Mystery! mystery!” Yvernès continued to repeat.
He and his comrades were gathered at the casino, where Athanase Dorémus was sharing their early breakfast, which would be followed by their luncheon and their dinner at six o’clock.
“My word!” said Pinchinat, munching his chocolate journal, which he had soaked in the smoking basin. “I give up these dogs or wild beasts. Anyhow, let us eat Mormein, Dorémus, until we are eaten.”
“Who knows?” replied Zorn. “Perhaps by lions, or tigers, or cannibals.”
“I would rather have cannibals!” replied his Highness “Every one to his taste, eh?”
He laughed, this indefatigable joker, but the professor of dancing and deportment did not laugh, and Milliard City, a prey to terror, had no cause for laughter.
At eight o’clock in the morning, the council of notables, convoked at the town hall, had all attended the Governor’s summons. There was nobody in the avenues nor in the streets except the squads of militia and police going to the positions assigned to them.
The council, at which Cyrus Bikerstaff presided, immediately began its deliberations.
“Gentlemen,” said the Governor, “you are acquainted with the cause of this well-justified panic which has seized on the people of Floating Island. During the night our island has been invaded by a band of carnivores and saurians. It is urgent that we proceed to the destruction of these animals, and we shall certainly do so. But the people must conform to the measures we decide upon. If traffic is still authorized in Milliard City, the gates of which are shut, it cannot be permitted in the park and in the country. Hence, until fresh orders, communications are forbidden between the town, the two ports and the batteries.”
These measures being approved, the council passed to the discussion of the means which would permit of the destruction of the formidable animals which infested Floating Island.
“Our militia and our sailors,” continued the Governor, “are organizing expeditions to the different points of the island. Those of you who are sportsmen we would like to join us, to direct their movements so as to prevent any possible catastrophe.”
“Years ago,” said Jem Tankerdon, “I had some shooting in India and in America, and it will not be my first attempt. I am ready, and my eldest son will accompany me.”
“We thank the honourable Jem Tankerdon,” replied Cyrus Bikerstaff, “and for my part I will follow his example. At the same time as Colonel Stewart’s militia, a squad of sailors will be in the field, under Commodore Simcoe’s orders, and their ranks are open to you, gentlemen.”
Nat Coverley made a similar proposition to that of Jem Tankerdon, and finally all the notables whose age allowed, offered their services. Magazine rifles of long range were not wanting at Milliard City. There was little doubt that, thanks to everyone’s devotion and courage, Floating Island would soon be cleared of this formidable band. But, as Cyrus Bikerstaff repeated, the main point was not to have to regret anyone’s death.
“These wild beasts, of which we cannot estimate the number,” he a
dded, “must be destroyed as quickly as possible. To leave them time to acclimatize themselves, to multiply, would be to endanger the safety of our island.”
“It is not likely,” said one of the notables, “that there are many of these animals.”
“Quite so. It could only come from some ship which was carrying a menagerie,” replied the Governor, “some ship from India, from the Philippines, or the Sunda Islands, on account of some Hamburg house, which is noted for its trade in these animals. The animals may have escaped or been thrown overboard owing to their becoming unmanageable.”
The principal market for wild beasts is at Hamburg, the current prices being two thousand francs for elephants, twenty-seven thousand for giraffes, twenty-five thousand for hippopotamuses, five thousand for lions, four thousand for tigers, two thousand for jaguars—good prices, as will be seen, which have a tendency to rise, while those for snakes are going down.
A member of the council having observed that the menagerie in question might have some representatives of the ophidians, the Governor replied that no ophidians had as yet been reported. Besides if lions, tigers, and alligators had been able to swim ashore, that would not have been possible with snakes.
Cyrus Bikerstaff remarked, —
“I think we have nothing to fear from the presence of boas, coral-snakes, rattle-snakes, najas, vipers, and other examples of that kind. Nevertheless, we will do all that is necessary to reassure the people on this subject. But we must not lose time, gentlemen, and before inquiring into the cause of this invasion of wild beasts, let us destroy them. They are here, and they must not remain here.”
Nothing could be more sensible, and it could not have been better put.
CHAPTER VII.
THE total destruction of the animals which had invaded Floating Island must be proceeded with. Not a single pair of these formidable beasts must escape, as the future safety of the island was in danger. This pair would multiply, and the people might just as well live in the forests of India or Africa.