Chapter 12

They now began the descent of the mountain. Climbing down the crater,

they went round the cone and reached their encampment of the previous

night. Pencroft thought it must be breakfast-time, and the watches of

the reporter and engineer were therefore consulted to find out the hour.

That of Gideon Spilett had been preserved from the sea-water, as he had

been thrown at once on the sand out of reach of the waves. It was an

instrument of excellent quality, a perfect pocket chronometer, which the

reporter had not forgotten to wind up carefully every day.

As to the engineer’s watch, it, of course, had stopped during the time

which he had passed on the downs.

The engineer now wound it up, and ascertaining by the height of the sun

that it must be about nine o’clock in the morning, he put his watch at

that hour.

“No, my dear Spilett, wait. You have kept the Richmond time, have you

not?”

“Yes, Cyrus.”

“Consequently, your watch is set by the meridian of that town, which is

almost that of Washington?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Very well, keep it thus. Content yourself with winding it up very,

exactly, but do not touch the hands. This may be of use to us.

“What will be the good of that?” thought the sailor.

They ate, and so heartily, that the store of game and almonds was

totally exhausted. But Pencroft was not at all uneasy, they would supply

themselves on the way. Top, whose share had been very much to his taste,

would know how to find some fresh game among the brushwood. Moreover,

the sailor thought of simply asking the engineer to manufacture some

powder and one or two fowling-pieces; he supposed there would be no

difficulty in that.

On leaving the plateau, the captain proposed to his companions to return

to the Chimneys by a new way. He wished to reconnoiter Lake Grant, so

magnificently framed in trees. They therefore followed the crest of one

of the spurs, between which the creek that supplied the lake probably

had its source. In talking, the settlers already employed the names

which they had just chosen, which singularly facilitated the exchange

of their ideas. Herbert and Pencroft--the one young and the other very

boyish--were enchanted, and while walking, the sailor said,

“Hey, Herbert! how capital it sounds! It will be impossible to lose

ourselves, my boy, since, whether we follow the way to Lake Grant, or

whether we join the Mercy through the woods of the Far West, we shall be

certain to arrive at Prospect Heights, and, consequently, at Union Bay!”

It had been agreed, that without forming a compact band, the settlers

should not stray away from each other. It was very certain that the

thick forests of the island were inhabited by dangerous animals, and it

was prudent to be on their guard. In general, Pencroft, Herbert, and Neb

walked first, preceded by Top, who poked his nose into every bush. The

reporter and the engineer went together, Gideon Spilett ready to note

every incident, the engineer silent for the most part, and only stepping

aside to pick up one thing or another, a mineral or vegetable substance,

which he put into his pocket, without making any remark.

“What can he be picking up?” muttered Pencroft. “I have looked in vain

for anything that’s worth the trouble of stooping for.”

Towards ten o’clock the little band descended the last declivities of

Mount Franklin. As yet the ground was scantily strewn with bushes and

trees. They were walking over yellowish calcinated earth, forming a

plain of nearly a mile long, which extended to the edge of the wood.

Great blocks of that basalt, which, according to Bischof, takes three

hundred and fifty millions of years to cool, strewed the plain, very

confused in some places. However, there were here no traces of lava,

which was spread more particularly over the northern slopes.

Cyrus Harding expected to reach, without incident, the course of the

creek, which he supposed flowed under the trees at the border of the

plain, when he saw Herbert running hastily back, while Neb and the

sailor were hiding behind the rocks.

“What’s the matter, my boy?” asked Spilett.

“Smoke,” replied Herbert. “We have seen smoke among the rocks, a hundred

paces from us.”

“Men in this place?” cried the reporter.

“We must avoid showing ourselves before knowing with whom we have to

deal,” replied Cyrus Harding. “I trust that there are no natives on this

island; I dread them more than anything else. Where is Top?”

“Top is on before.”

“And he doesn’t bark?”

“No.”

“That is strange. However, we must try to call him back.”

In a few moments, the engineer, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert had rejoined

their two companions, and like them, they kept out of sight behind the

heaps of basalt.

From thence they clearly saw smoke of a yellowish color rising in the

air.

Top was recalled by a slight whistle from his master, and the latter,

signing to his companions to wait for him, glided away among the

rocks. The colonists, motionless, anxiously awaited the result of this

exploration, when a shout from the engineer made them hasten forward.

They soon joined him, and were at once struck with a disagreeable odor

which impregnated the atmosphere.

The odor, easily recognized, was enough for the engineer to guess what

the smoke was which at first, not without cause, had startled him.

“This fire,” said he, “or rather, this smoke is produced by nature alone.

There is a sulphur spring there, which will cure all our sore throats.”

“Captain!” cried Pencroft. “What a pity that I haven’t got a cold!”

The settlers then directed their steps towards the place from which the

smoke escaped. They there saw a sulphur spring which flowed abundantly

between the rocks, and its waters discharged a strong sulphuric acid

odor, after having absorbed the oxygen of the air.

Cyrus Harding, dipping in his hand, felt the water oily to the touch.

He tasted it and found it rather sweet. As to its temperature, that he

estimated at ninety-five degrees Fahrenheit. Herbert having asked on

what he based this calculation,--

“Its quite simple, my boy,” said he, “for, in plunging my hand into the

water, I felt no sensation either of heat or cold. Therefore it has the

same temperature as the human body, which is about ninety-five degrees.”

The sulphur spring not being of any actual use to the settlers, they

proceeded towards the thick border of the forest, which began some

hundred paces off.

There, as they had conjectured, the waters of the stream flowed clear

and limpid between high banks of red earth, the color of which betrayed

the presence of oxide of iron. From this color, the name of Red Creek

was immediately given to the watercourse.

It was only a large stream, deep and clear, formed of the mountain

water, which, half river, half torrent, here rippling peacefully over

the sand, there falling against the rocks or dashing down in a cascade,

ran towards the lake, over a distance of a mile and a half, its breadth

varying from thirty to forty feet. Its waters were sweet, and it was

supposed that those of the lake were so also. A fortunate circumstance,

in the event of their finding on its borders a more suitable dwelling

than the Chimneys.

As to the trees, which some hundred feet downwards shaded the banks of

the creek, they belonged, for the most part, to the species which abound

in the temperate zone of America and Tasmania, and no longer to those

coniferae observed in that portion of the island already explored

to some miles from Prospect Heights. At this time of the year, the

commencement of the month of April, which represents the month of

October, in this hemisphere, that is, the beginning of autumn, they

were still in full leaf. They consisted principally of casuarinas and

eucalypti, some of which next year would yield a sweet manna, similar to

the manna of the East. Clumps of Australian cedars rose on the sloping

banks, which were also covered with the high grass called “tussac” in

New Holland; but the cocoanut, so abundant in the archipelagoes of the

Pacific, seemed to be wanting in the island, the latitude, doubtless,

being too low.

“What a pity!” said Herbert, “such a useful tree, and which has such

beautiful nuts!”

As to the birds, they swarmed among the scanty branches of the eucalypti

and casuarinas, which did not hinder the display of their wings.

Black, white, or gray cockatoos, paroquets, with plumage of all colors,

kingfishers of a sparkling green and crowned with red, blue lories,

and various other birds appeared on all sides, as through a prism,

fluttering about and producing a deafening clamor. Suddenly, a strange

concert of discordant voices resounded in the midst of a thicket. The

settlers heard successively the song of birds, the cry of quadrupeds,

and a sort of clacking which they might have believed to have escaped

from the lips of a native. Neb and Herbert rushed towards the bush,

forgetting even the most elementary principles of prudence. Happily,

they found there, neither a formidable wild beast nor a dangerous

native, but merely half a dozen mocking and singing birds, known as

mountain pheasants. A few skillful blows from a stick soon put an end to

their concert, and procured excellent food for the evening’s dinner.

Herbert also discovered some magnificent pigeons with bronzed wings,

some superbly crested, others draped in green, like their congeners at

Port-Macquarie; but it was impossible to reach them, or the crows and

magpies which flew away in flocks.

A charge of small shot would have made great slaughter among these

birds, but the hunters were still limited to sticks and stones, and

these primitive weapons proved very insufficient.

Their insufficiency was still more clearly shown when a troop of

quadrupeds, jumping, bounding, making leaps of thirty feet, regular

flying mammiferae, fled over the thickets, so quickly and at such a

height, that one would have thought that they passed from one tree to

another like squirrels.

“Kangaroos!” cried Herbert.

“Are they good to eat?” asked Pencroft.

“Stewed,” replied the reporter, “their flesh is equal to the best

venison!--”

Gideon Spilett had not finished this exciting sentence when the sailor,

followed by Neb and Herbert, darted on the kangaroos tracks. Cyrus

Harding called them back in vain. But it was in vain too for the hunters

to pursue such agile game, which went bounding away like balls. After a

chase of five minutes, they lost their breath, and at the same time all

sight of the creatures, which disappeared in the wood. Top was not more

successful than his masters.

“Captain,” said Pencroft, when the engineer and the reporter had

rejoined them, “Captain, you see quite well we can’t get on unless we

make a few guns. Will that be possible?”

“Perhaps,” replied the engineer, “but we will begin by first

manufacturing some bows and arrows, and I don’t doubt that you will

become as clever in the use of them as the Australian hunters.”

“Bows and arrows!” said Pencroft scornfully. “That’s all very well for

children!”

“Don’t be proud, friend Pencroft,” replied the reporter. “Bows and

arrows were sufficient for centuries to stain the earth with blood.

Powder is but a thing of yesterday, and war is as old as the human

race--unhappily.”

“Faith, that’s true, Mr. Spilett,” replied the sailor, “and I always

speak too quickly. You must excuse me!”

Meanwhile, Herbert constant to his favorite science, Natural History,

reverted to the kangaroos, saying,--

“Besides, we had to deal just now with the species which is most

difficult to catch. They were giants with long gray fur; but if I am not

mistaken, there exist black and red kangaroos, rock kangaroos, and rat

kangaroos, which are more easy to get hold of. It is reckoned that there

are about a dozen species.”

“Herbert,” replied the sailor sententiously, “there is only one species

of kangaroos to me, that is ‘kangaroo on the spit,’ and it’s just the

one we haven’t got this evening!”

They could not help laughing at Master Pencroft’s new classification.

The honest sailor did not hide his regret at being reduced for dinner to

the singing pheasants, but fortune once more showed itself obliging to

him.

In fact, Top, who felt that his interest was concerned went and ferreted

everywhere with an instinct doubled by a ferocious appetite. It was even

probable that if some piece of game did fall into his clutches, none

would be left for the hunters, if Top was hunting on his own account;

but Neb watched him and he did well.

Towards three o’clock the dog disappeared in the brushwood and gruntings

showed that he was engaged in a struggle with some animal. Neb rushed

after him, and soon saw Top eagerly devouring a quadruped, which ten

seconds later would have been past recognizing in Top’s stomach. But

fortunately the dog had fallen upon a brood, and besides the victim he

was devouring, two other rodents--the animals in question belonged to

that order--lay strangled on the turf.

Neb reappeared triumphantly holding one of the rodents in each hand.

Their size exceeded that of a rabbit, their hair was yellow, mingled

with green spots, and they had the merest rudiments of tails.

The citizens of the Union were at no loss for the right name of these

rodents. They were maras, a sort of agouti, a little larger than their

congeners of tropical countries, regular American rabbits, with long

ears, jaws armed on each side with five molars, which distinguish the

agouti.

“Hurrah!” cried Pencroft, “the roast has arrived! and now we can go

home.”

The walk, interrupted for an instant, was resumed. The limpid waters of

the Red Creek flowed under an arch of casuarinas, banksias, and gigantic

gum-trees. Superb lilacs rose to a height of twenty feet. Other

arborescent species, unknown to the young naturalist, bent over the

stream, which could be heard murmuring beneath the bowers of verdure.

Meanwhile the stream grew much wider, and Cyrus Harding supposed that

they would soon reach its mouth. In fact, on emerging from beneath a

thick clump of beautiful trees, it suddenly appeared before their eyes.

The explorers had arrived on the western shore of Lake Grant. The place

was well worth looking at. This extent of water, of a circumference of

nearly seven miles and an area of two hundred and fifty acres, reposed

in a border of diversified trees. Towards the east, through a curtain

of verdure, picturesquely raised in some places, sparkled an horizon of

sea. The lake was curved at the north, which contrasted with the sharp

outline of its lower part. Numerous aquatic birds frequented the shores

of this little Ontario, in which the thousand isles of its American

namesake were represented by a rock which emerged from its surface, some

hundred feet from the southern shore. There lived in harmony several

couples of kingfishers perched on a stone, grave, motionless, watching

for fish, then darting down, they plunged in with a sharp cry, and

reappeared with their prey in their beaks. On the shores and on the

islets, strutted wild ducks, pelicans, water-hens, red-beaks, philedons,

furnished with a tongue like a brush, and one or two specimens of the

splendid menura, the tail of which expands gracefully like a lyre.

As to the water of the lake, it was sweet, limpid, rather dark, and from

certain bubblings, and the concentric circles which crossed each other

on the surface, it could not be doubted that it abounded in fish.

“This lake is really beautiful!” said Gideon Spilett. “We could live on

its borders!”

“We will live there!” replied Harding.

The settlers, wishing to return to the Chimneys by the shortest way,

descended towards the angle formed on the south by the junction of

the lake’s bank. It was not without difficulty that they broke a path

through the thickets and brushwood which had never been put aside by the

hand of men, and they thus went towards the shore, so as to arrive at

the north of Prospect Heights. Two miles were cleared in this direction,

and then, after they had passed the last curtain of trees, appeared the

plateau, carpeted with thick turf, and beyond that the infinite sea.

To return to the Chimneys, it was enough to cross the plateau obliquely

for the space of a mile, and then to descend to the elbow formed by

the first detour of the Mercy. But the engineer desired to know how

and where the overplus of the water from the lake escaped, and the

exploration was prolonged under the trees for a mile and a half towards

the north. It was most probable that an overfall existed somewhere, and

doubtless through a cleft in the granite. This lake was only, in short,

an immense center basin, which was filled by degrees by the creek, and

its waters must necessarily pass to the sea by some fall. If it was so,

the engineer thought that it might perhaps be possible to utilize this

fall and borrow its power, actually lost without profit to any one.

They continued then to follow the shores of Lake Grant by climbing the

plateau; but, after having gone a mile in this direction, Cyrus Harding

had not been able to discover the overfall, which, however, must exist

somewhere.

It was then half-past four. In order to prepare for dinner it was

necessary that the settlers should return to their dwelling. The little

band retraced their steps, therefore, and by the left bank of the Mercy,

Cyrus Harding and his companions arrived at the Chimneys.

The fire was lighted, and Neb and Pencroft, on whom the functions of

cooks naturally devolved, to the one in his quality of Negro, to the

other in that of sailor, quickly prepared some broiled agouti, to which

they did great justice.

The repast at length terminated; at the moment when each one was about

to give himself up to sleep, Cyrus Harding drew from his pocket little

specimens of different sorts of minerals, and just said,--

“My friends, this is iron mineral, this a pyrite, this is clay, this is

lime, and this is coal. Nature gives us these things. It is our business

to make a right use of them. To-morrow we will commence operations.”