Chapter 20

The winter season set in with the month of June, which corresponds with

the month of December in the Northern Hemisphere. It began with showers

and squalls, which succeeded each other without intermission. The

tenants of Granite House could appreciate the advantages of a dwelling

which sheltered them from the inclement weather. The Chimneys would have

been quite insufficient to protect them against the rigor of winter, and

it was to be feared that the high tides would make another irruption.

Cyrus Harding had taken precautions against this contingency, so as

to preserve as much as possible the forge and furnace which were

established there.

During the whole of the month of June the time was employed in different

occupations, which excluded neither hunting nor fishing, the larder

being, therefore, abundantly supplied. Pencroft, so soon as he had

leisure, proposed to set some traps, from which he expected great

results. He soon made some snares with creepers, by the aid of which the

warren henceforth every day furnished its quota of rodents. Neb employed

nearly all his time in salting or smoking meat, which insured their

always having plenty of provisions. The question of clothes was now

seriously discussed, the settlers having no other garments than those

they wore when the balloon threw them on the island. These clothes were

warm and good; they had taken great care of them as well as of their

linen, and they were perfectly whole, but they would soon need to be

replaced. Moreover, if the winter was severe, the settlers would suffer

greatly from cold.

On this subject the ingenuity of Harding was at fault. They must provide

for their most pressing wants, settle their dwelling, and lay in a

store of food; thus the cold might come upon them before the question

of clothes had been settled. They must therefore make up their minds to

pass this first winter without additional clothing. When the fine season

came round again, they would regularly hunt those musmons which had been

seen on the expedition to Mount Franklin, and the wool once collected,

the engineer would know how to make it into strong warm stuff.... How?

He would consider.

“Well, we are free to roast ourselves at Granite House!” said Pencroft.

“There are heaps of fuel, and no reason for sparing it.”

“Besides,” added Gideon Spilett, “Lincoln Island is not situated under

a very high latitude, and probably the winters here are not severe. Did

you not say, Cyrus, that this thirty-fifth parallel corresponded to that

of Spain in the other hemisphere?”

“Doubtless,” replied the engineer, “but some winters in Spain are very

cold! No want of snow and ice; and perhaps Lincoln Island is just as

rigorously tried. However, it is an island, and as such, I hope that

the temperature will be more moderate.”

“Why, captain?” asked Herbert.

“Because the sea, my boy, may be considered as an immense reservoir, in

which is stored the heat of the summer. When winter comes, it restores

this heat, which insures for the regions near the ocean a medium

temperature, less high in summer, but less low in winter.”

“We shall prove that,” replied Pencroft. “But I don’t want to bother

myself about whether it will be cold or not. One thing is certain, that

is that the days are already short, and the evenings long. Suppose we

talk about the question of light.”

“Nothing is easier,” replied Harding.

“To talk about?” asked the sailor.

“To settle.”

“And when shall we begin?”

“To-morrow, by having a seal hunt.”

“To make candles?”

“Yes.”

Such was the engineer’s project; and it was quite feasible, since he had

lime and sulphuric acid, while the amphibians of the islet would furnish

the fat necessary for the manufacture.

They were now at the 4th of June. It was Whit Sunday and they agreed to

observe this feast. All work was suspended, and prayers were offered

to Heaven. But these prayers were now thanksgivings. The settlers in

Lincoln Island were no longer the miserable castaways thrown on the

islet. They asked for nothing more--they gave thanks. The next day, the

5th of June, in rather uncertain weather, they set out for the islet.

They had to profit by the low tide to cross the Channel, and it was

agreed that they would construct, for this purpose, as well as they

could, a boat which would render communication so much easier, and

would also permit them to ascend the Mercy, at the time of their grand

exploration of the southwest of the island, which was put off till the

first fine days.

The seals were numerous, and the hunters, armed with their iron-tipped

spears, easily killed half-a-dozen. Neb and Pencroft skinned them, and

only brought back to Granite House their fat and skin, this skin being

intended for the manufacture of boots.

The result of the hunt was this: nearly three hundred pounds of fat, all

to be employed in the fabrication of candles.

The operation was extremely simple, and if it did not yield absolutely

perfect results, they were at least very useful. Cyrus Harding would

only have had at his disposal sulphuric acid, but by heating this acid

with the neutral fatty bodies he could separate the glycerine; then from

this new combination, he easily separated the olein, the margarin, and

the stearin, by employing boiling water. But to simplify the operation,

he preferred to saponify the fat by means of lime. By this he obtained a

calcareous soap, easy to decompose by sulphuric acid, which precipitated

the lime into the state of sulphate, and liberated the fatty acids.

From these three acids-oleic, margaric, and stearic-the first, being

liquid, was driven out by a sufficient pressure. As to the two others,

they formed the very substance of which the candles were to be molded.

This operation did not last more than four and twenty hours. The wicks,

after several trials, were made of vegetable fibers, and dipped in the

liquefied substance, they formed regular stearic candles, molded by the

hand, which only wanted whiteness and polish. They would not doubtless

have the advantages of the wicks which are impregnated with boracic

acid, and which vitrify as they burn and are entirely consumed, but

Cyrus Harding having manufactured a beautiful pair of snuffers, these

candles would be greatly appreciated during the long evenings in Granite

House.

During this month there was no want of work in the interior of their new

dwelling. The joiners had plenty to do. They improved their tools, which

were very rough, and added others also.

Scissors were made among other things, and the settlers were at last

able to cut their hair, and also to shave, or at least trim their

beards. Herbert had none, Neb but little, but their companions were

bristling in a way which justified the making of the said scissors.

The manufacture of a hand-saw cost infinite trouble, but at last an

instrument was obtained which, when vigorously handled, could divide the

ligneous fibers of the wood. They then made tables, seats, cupboards,

to furnish the principal rooms, and bedsteads, of which all the bedding

consisted of grass mattresses. The kitchen, with its shelves, on which

rested the cooking utensils, its brick stove, looked very well, and Neb

worked away there as earnestly as if he was in a chemist’s laboratory.

But the joiners had soon to be replaced by carpenters. In fact, the

waterfall created by the explosion rendered the construction of two

bridges necessary, one on Prospect Heights, the other on the shore. Now

the plateau and the shore were transversely divided by a watercourse,

which had to be crossed to reach the northern part of the island. To

avoid it the colonists had been obliged to make a considerable detour,

by climbing up to the source of the Red Creek. The simplest thing was to

establish on the plateau, and on the shore, two bridges from twenty to

five and twenty feet in length. All the carpenter’s work that was needed

was to clear some trees of their branches: this was a business of some

days. Directly the bridges were established, Neb and Pencroft profited

by them to go to the oyster-bed which had been discovered near the

downs. They dragged with them a sort of rough cart, which replaced the

former inconvenient hurdle, and brought back some thousands of oysters,

which soon increased among the rocks and formed a bed at the mouth of

the Mercy. These molluscs were of excellent quality, and the colonists

consumed some daily.

It has been seen that Lincoln Island, although its inhabitants had as

yet only explored a small portion of it, already contributed to almost

all their wants. It was probable that if they hunted into its most

secret recesses, in all the wooded part between the Mercy and Reptile

Point, they would find new treasures.

The settlers in Lincoln Island had still one privation. There was no

want of meat, nor of vegetable products; those ligneous roots which

they had found, when subjected to fermentation, gave them an acid drink,

which was preferable to cold water; they also made sugar, without canes

or beet-roots, by collecting the liquor which distils from the “acer

saceharinum,” a sort of maple-tree, which flourishes in all the temperate

zones, and of which the island possessed a great number; they made

a very agreeable tea by employing the herbs brought from the warren;

lastly, they had an abundance of salt, the only mineral which is used in

food... but bread was wanting.

Perhaps in time the settlers could replace this want by some equivalent,

it was possible that they might find the sago or the breadfruit tree

among the forests of the south, but they had not as yet met with these

precious trees. However, Providence came directly to their aid, in an

infinitesimal proportion it is true, but Cyrus Harding, with all his

intelligence, all his ingenuity, would never have been able to produce

that which, by the greatest chance, Herbert one day found in the lining

of his waistcoat, which he was occupied in setting to rights.

On this day, as it was raining in torrents, the settlers were assembled

in the great hall in Granite House, when the lad cried out all at

once,--

“Look here, captain--A grain of corn!”

And he showed his companions a grain--a single grain--which from a hole

in his pocket had got into the lining of his waistcoat.

The presence of this grain was explained by the fact that Herbert, when

at Richmond, used to feed some pigeons, of which Pencroft had made him a

present.

“A grain of corn?” said the engineer quickly.

“Yes, captain; but one, only one!”

“Well, my boy,” said Pencroft, laughing, “we’re getting on capitally,

upon my word! What shall we make with one grain of corn?”

“We will make bread of it,” replied Cyrus Harding.

“Bread, cakes, tarts!” replied the sailor. “Come, the bread that this

grain of corn will make won’t choke us very soon!”

Herbert, not attaching much importance to his discovery, was going to

throw away the grain in question; but Harding took it, examined it,

found that it was in good condition, and looking the sailor full in the

face--“Pencroft,” he asked quietly, “do you know how many ears one grain

of corn can produce?”

“One, I suppose!” replied the sailor, surprised at the question.

“Ten, Pencroft! And do you know how many grains one ear bears?”

“No, upon my word.”

“About eighty!” said Cyrus Harding. “Then, if we plant this grain, at

the first crop we shall reap eight hundred grains which at the second

will produce six hundred and forty thousand; at the third, five hundred

and twelve millions; at the fourth, more than four hundred thousands of

millions! There is the proportion.”

Harding’s companions listened without answering. These numbers

astonished them. They were exact, however.

“Yes, my friends,” continued the engineer, “such are the arithmetical

progressions of prolific nature; and yet what is this multiplication

of the grain of corn, of which the ear only bears eight hundred grains,

compared to the poppy-plant, which bears thirty-two thousand seeds; to

the tobacco-plant, which produces three hundred and sixty thousand? In

a few years, without the numerous causes of destruction, which arrests

their fecundity, these plants would overrun the earth.”

But the engineer had not finished his lecture.

“And now, Pencroft,” he continued, “do you know how many bushels four

hundred thousand millions of grains would make?”

“No,” replied the sailor; “but what I do know is, that I am nothing

better than a fool!”

“Well, they would make more than three millions, at a hundred and thirty

thousand a bushel, Pencroft.”

“Three millions!” cried Pencroft.

“Three millions.”

“In four years?”

“In four years,” replied Cyrus Harding, “and even in two years, if, as I

hope, in this latitude we can obtain two crops a year.”

At that, according to his usual custom, Pencroft could not reply

otherwise than by a tremendous hurrah.

“So, Herbert,” added the engineer, “you have made a discovery of great

importance to us. Everything, my friends, everything can serve us in the

condition in which we are. Do not forget that, I beg of you.”

“No, captain, no, we shan’t forget it,” replied Pencroft; “and if ever

I find one of those tobacco-seeds, which multiply by three hundred and

sixty thousand, I assure you I won’t throw it away! And now, what must

we do?”

“We must plant this grain,” replied Herbert.

“Yes,” added Gideon Spilett, “and with every possible care, for it bears

in itself our future harvests.”

“Provided it grows!” cried the sailor.

“It will grow,” replied Cyrus Harding.

This was the 20th of June. The time was then propitious for sowing this

single precious grain of corn. It was first proposed to plant it in

a pot, but upon reflection it was decided to leave it to nature, and

confide it to the earth. This was done that very day, and it is needless

to add, that every precaution was taken that the experiment might

succeed.

The weather having cleared, the settlers climbed the height above

Granite House. There, on the plateau, they chose a spot, well sheltered

from the wind, and exposed to all the heat of the midday sun. The place

was cleared, carefully weeded, and searched for insects and worms;

then a bed of good earth, improved with a little lime, was made; it was

surrounded by a railing; and the grain was buried in the damp earth.

Did it not seem as if the settlers were laying the first stone of some

edifice? It recalled to Pencroft the day on which he lighted his only

match, and all the anxiety of the operation. But this time the thing

was more serious. In fact, the castaways would have been always able

to procure fire, in some mode or other, but no human power could supply

another grain of corn, if unfortunately this should be lost!