Chapter 12

In the evening the hunters returned, having enjoyed good sport, and

being literally loaded with game; indeed, they had as much as four men

could possibly carry. Top wore a necklace of teal and Jup wreaths of

snipe round his body.

“Here, master,” cried Neb; “here’s something to employ our time!

Preserved and made into pies we shall have a welcome store! But I must

have some one to help me. I count on you, Pencroft.”

“No, Neb,” replied the sailor; “I have the rigging of the vessel to

finish and to look after, and you will have to do without me.”

“And you, Mr. Herbert?”

“I must go to the corral to-morrow, Neb,” replied the lad.

“It will be you then, Mr. Spilett, who will help me?”

“To oblige you, Neb, I will,” replied the reporter; “but I warn you that

if you disclose your recipes to me, I shall publish them.”

“Whenever you like, Mr. Spilett,” replied Neb; “whenever you like.”

And so the next day Gideon Spilett became Neb’s assistant and was

installed in his culinary laboratory. The engineer had previously made

known to him the result of the exploration which he had made the day

before, and on this point the reporter shared Harding’s opinion, that

although he had found nothing, a secret still remained to be discovered!

The frost continued for another week, and the settlers did not leave

Granite House unless to look after the poultry-yard. The dwelling

was filled with appetizing odors, which were emitted from the learned

manipulation of Neb and the reporter. But all the results of the chase

were not made into preserved provisions; and as the game kept perfectly

in the intense cold, wild duck and other fowl were eaten fresh, and

declared superior to all other aquatic birds in the known world.

During this week, Pencroft, aided by Herbert, who handled the

sailmaker’s needle with much skill, worked with such energy that the

sails of the vessel were finished. There was no want of cordage. Thanks

to the rigging which had been discovered with the case of the balloon,

the ropes and cables from the net were all of good quality, and the

sailor turned them all to account. To the sails were attached strong

bolt ropes, and there still remained enough from which to make the

halyards, shrouds, and sheets, etc. The blocks were manufactured by

Cyrus Harding under Pencroft’s directions by means of the turning lathe.

It therefore happened that the rigging was entirely prepared before the

vessel was finished. Pencroft also manufactured a flag, that flag so

dear to every true American, containing the stars and stripes of their

glorious Union. The colors for it were supplied from certain plants

used in dyeing, and which were very abundant in the island; only to the

thirty-seven stars, representing the thirty-seven States of the Union,

which shine on the American flag, the sailor added a thirty-eighth, the

star of “the State of Lincoln,” for he considered his island as already

united to the great republic. “And,” said he, “it is so already in

heart, if not in deed!”

In the meantime, the flag was hoisted at the central window of Granite

House, and the settlers saluted it with three cheers.

The cold season was now almost at an end, and it appeared as if this

second winter was to pass without any unusual occurrence, when on the

night of the 11th of August, the plateau of Prospect Heights was menaced

with complete destruction.

After a busy day the colonists were sleeping soundly, when towards four

o’clock in the morning they were suddenly awakened by Top’s barking.

The dog was not this time barking near the mouth of the well, but at

the threshold of the door, at which he was scratching as if he wished to

burst it open. Jup was also uttering piercing cries.

“Hello, Top!” cried Neb, who was the first awake. But the dog continued

to bark more furiously than ever.

“What’s the matter now?” asked Harding.

And all dressing in haste rushed to the windows, which they opened.

Beneath their eyes was spread a sheet of snow which looked gray in the

dim light. The settlers could see nothing, but they heard a singular

yelping noise away in the darkness. It was evident that the beach had

been invaded by a number of animals which could not be seen.

“What are they?” cried Pencroft.

“Wolves, jaguars, or apes?” replied Neb.

“They have nearly reached the plateau,” said the reporter.

“And our poultry-yard,” exclaimed Herbert, “and our garden!”

“Where can they have crossed?” asked Pencroft.

“They must have crossed the bridge on the shore,” replied the engineer,

“which one of us must have forgotten to close.”

“True,” said Spilett, “I remember having left it open.”

“A fine job you have made of it, Mr. Spilett,” cried the sailor.

“What is done cannot be undone,” replied Cyrus Harding. “We must consult

what it will now be best to do.”

Such were the questions and answers which were rapidly exchanged between

Harding and his companions. It was certain that the bridge had been

crossed, that the shore had been invaded by animals, and that whatever

they might be they could by ascending the left bank of the Mercy reach

Prospect Heights. They must therefore be advanced against quickly and

fought with if necessary.

“But what are these beasts?” was asked a second time, as the yelpings

were again heard more loudly than before. These yelps made Herbert

start, and he remembered having heard them before during his first visit

to the sources of the Red Creek.

“They are colpeo foxes!” he exclaimed.

“Forward!” shouted the sailor.

And all arming themselves with hatchets, carbines, and revolvers, threw

themselves into the lift and soon set foot on the shore.

Colpeos are dangerous animals when in great numbers and irritated by

hunger, nevertheless the colonists did not hesitate to throw themselves

into the midst of the troop, and their first shots vividly lighting up

the darkness made their assailants draw back.

The chief thing was to hinder these plunderers from reaching the

plateau, for the garden and the poultry-yard would then have been at

their mercy, and immense, perhaps irreparable mischief, would inevitably

be the result, especially with regard to the corn-field. But as the

invasion of the plateau could only be made by the left bank of the

Mercy, it was sufficient to oppose the colpeos on the narrow bank

between the river and the cliff of granite.

This was plain to all, and, by Cyrus Harding’s orders, they reached the

spot indicated by him, while the colpeos rushed fiercely through

the gloom. Harding, Gideon Spilett, Herbert, Pencroft and Neb posted

themselves in impregnable line. Top, his formidable jaws open, preceded

the colonists, and he was followed by Jup, armed with a knotty cudgel,

which he brandished like a club.

The night was extremely dark, it was only by the flashes from the

revolvers as each person fired that they could see their assailants, who

were at least a hundred in number, and whose eyes were glowing like hot

coals.

“They must not pass!” shouted Pencroft.

“They shall not pass!” returned the engineer.

But if they did not pass it was not for want of having attempted it.

Those in the rear pushed on the foremost assailants, and it was an

incessant struggle with revolvers and hatchets. Several colpeos already

lay dead on the ground, but their number did not appear to diminish,

and it might have been supposed that reinforcements were continually

arriving over the bridge.

The colonists were soon obliged to fight at close quarters, not without

receiving some wounds, though happily very slight ones. Herbert had,

with a shot from his revolver, rescued Neb, on whose back a colpeo had

sprung like a tiger cat. Top fought with actual fury, flying at the

throats of the foxes and strangling them instantaneously. Jup wielded

his weapon valiantly, and it was in vain that they endeavored to keep

him in the rear. Endowed doubtless with sight which enabled him to

pierce the obscurity, he was always in the thick of the fight uttering

from time to time--a sharp hissing sound, which was with him the sign of

great rejoicing.

At one moment he advanced so far, that by the light from a revolver

he was seen surrounded by five or six large colpeos, with whom he was

coping with great coolness.

However, the struggle was ended at last, and victory was on the side

of the settlers, but not until they had fought for two long hours! The

first signs of the approach of day doubtless determined the retreat of

their assailants, who scampered away towards the North, passing over the

bridge, which Neb ran immediately to raise. When day had sufficiently

lighted up the field of battle, the settlers counted as many as fifty

dead bodies scattered about on the shore.

“And Jup!” cried Pencroft; “where is Jup?” Jup had disappeared. His

friend Neb called him, and for the first time Jup did not reply to his

friend’s call.

Everyone set out in search of Jup, trembling lest he should be found

among the slain; they cleared the place of the bodies which stained the

snow with their blood. Jup was found in the midst of a heap of colpeos

whose broken jaws and crushed bodies showed that they had to do with the

terrible club of the intrepid animal.

Poor Jup still held in his hand the stump of his broken cudgel, but

deprived of his weapon he had been overpowered by numbers, and his chest

was covered with severe wounds.

“He is living,” cried Neb, who was bending over him.

“And we will save him,” replied the sailor. “We will nurse him as if he

was one of ourselves.”

It appeared as if Jup understood, for he leaned his head on Pencroft’s

shoulder as if to thank him. The sailor was wounded himself, but his

wound was insignificant, as were those of his companions; for thanks to

their firearms they had been almost always able to keep their assailants

at a distance. It was therefore only the orang whose condition was

serious.

Jup, carried by Neb and Pencroft, was placed in the lift, and only a

slight moan now and then escaped his lips. He was gently drawn up to

Granite House. There he was laid on a mattress taken from one of the

beds, and his wounds were bathed with the greatest care. It did not

appear that any vital part had been reached, but Jup was very weak from

loss of blood, and a high fever soon set in after his wounds had been

dressed. He was laid down, strict diet was imposed, “just like a real

person,” as Neb said, and they made him swallow several cups of

a cooling drink, for which the ingredients were supplied from the

vegetable medicine chest of Granite House. Jup was at first restless,

but his breathing gradually became more regular, and he was left

sleeping quietly. From time to time Top, walking on tip-toe, as one

might say, came to visit his friend, and seemed to approve of all the

care that had been taken of him. One of Jup’s hands hung over the side

of his bed, and Top licked it with a sympathizing air.

They employed the day in interring the dead, who were dragged to the

forest of the Far West, and there buried deep.

This attack, which might have had such serious consequences, was a

lesson to the settlers, who from this time never went to bed until one

of their number had made sure that all the bridges were raised, and that

no invasion was possible.

However, Jup, after having given them serious anxiety for several

days, began to recover. His constitution brought him through, the fever

gradually subsided, and Gideon Spilett, who was a bit of a doctor,

pronounced him quite out of danger. On the 16th of August, Jup began to

eat. Neb made him nice little sweet dishes, which the invalid devoured

with great relish, for if he had a pet failing it was that of being

somewhat of a gourmand, and Neb had never done anything to cure him of

this fault.

“What would you have?” said he to Gideon Spilett, who sometimes

expostulated with him for spoiling the ape. “Poor Jup has no other

pleasure than that of the palate, and I am only too glad to be able to

reward his services in this way!”

Ten days after taking to his bed, on the 21st of August, Master Jup

arose. His wounds were healed, and it was evident that he would not

be long in regaining his usual strength and agility. Like all

convalescents, he was tremendously hungry, and the reporter allowed him

to eat as much as he liked, for he trusted to that instinct, which

is too often wanting in reasoning beings, to keep the orang from any

excess. Neb was delighted to see his pupil’s appetite returning.

“Eat away, my Jup,” said he, “and don’t spare anything; you have shed

your blood for us, and it is the least I can do to make you strong

again!”

On the 25th of August Neb’s voice was heard calling to his companions.

“Captain, Mr. Spilett, Mr. Herbert, Pencroft, come! come!”

The colonists, who were together in the dining-room, rose at Neb’s call,

who was then in Jup’s room.

“What’s the matter?” asked the reporter.

“Look,” replied Neb, with a shout of laughter. And what did they see?

Master Jup smoking calmly and seriously, sitting crosslegged like a Turk

at the entrance to Granite House!

“My pipe,” cried Pencroft. “He has taken my pipe! Hello, my honest Jup,

I make you a present of it! Smoke away, old boy, smoke away!”

And Jup gravely puffed out clouds of smoke which seemed to give him

great satisfaction. Harding did not appear to be much astonished at this

incident, and he cited several examples of tame apes, to whom the use of

tobacco had become quite familiar.

But from this day Master Jup had a pipe of his own, the sailor’s

ex-pipe, which was hung in his room near his store of tobacco. He filled

it himself, lighted it with a glowing coal, and appeared to be

the happiest of quadrumana. It may readily be understood that this

similarity of tastes of Jup and Pencroft served to tighten the bonds of

friendship which already existed between the honest ape and the worthy

sailor.

“Perhaps he is really a man,” said Pencroft sometimes to Neb. “Should

you be surprised to hear him beginning to speak to us some day?”

“My word, no,” replied Neb. “What astonishes me is that he hasn’t spoken

to us before, for now he wants nothing but speech!”

“It would amuse me all the same,” resumed the sailor, “if some fine day

he said to me, ‘Suppose we change pipes, Pencroft.’”

“Yes,” replied Neb, “what a pity he was born dumb!”

With the month of September the winter ended, and the works were again

eagerly commenced. The building of the vessel advanced rapidly, she was

already completely decked over, and all the inside parts of the hull

were firmly united with ribs bent by means of steam, which answered all

the purposes of a mold.

As there was no want of wood, Pencroft proposed to the engineer to give

a double lining to the hull, to insure the strength of the vessel.

Harding, not knowing what the future might have in store for them,

approved the sailor’s idea of making the craft as strong as possible.

The interior and deck of the vessel was entirely finished towards the

15th of September. For calking the seams they made oakum of dry seaweed,

which was hammered in between the planks; then these seams were covered

with boiling tar, which was obtained in great abundance from the pines

in the forest.

The management of the vessel was very simple. She had from the first

been ballasted with heavy blocks of granite walled up, in a bed of lime,

twelve thousand pounds of which they stowed away.

A deck was placed over this ballast, and the interior was divided into

two cabins; two benches extended along them and served also as lockers.

The foot of the mast supported the partition which separated the two

cabins, which were reached by two hatchways let into the deck.

Pencroft had no trouble in finding a tree suitable for the mast. He

chose a straight young fir, with no knots, and which he had only to

square at the step, and round off at the top. The ironwork of the mast,

the rudder and the hull had been roughly but strongly forged at the

Chimneys. Lastly, yards, masts, boom, spars, oars, etc., were all

furnished by the first week in October, and it was agreed that a trial

trip should be taken round the island, so as to ascertain how the vessel

would behave at sea, and how far they might depend upon her.

During all this time the necessary works had not been neglected.

The corral was enlarged, for the flock of musmons and goats had been

increased by a number of young ones, who had to be housed and fed. The

colonists had paid visits also to the oyster bed, the warren, the coal

and iron mines, and to the till then unexplored districts of the Far

West forest, which abounded in game. Certain indigenous plants were

discovered, and those fit for immediate use contributed to vary the

vegetable stores of Granite House.

They were a species of ficoide, some similar to those of the Cape, with

eatable fleshy leaves, others bearing seeds containing a sort of flour.

On the 10th of October the vessel was launched. Pencroft was radiant

with joy, the operation was perfectly successful; the boat completely

rigged, having been pushed on rollers to the water’s edge, was floated

by the rising tide, amid the cheers of the colonists, particularly of

Pencroft, who showed no modesty on this occasion. Besides his importance

was to last beyond the finishing of the vessel, since, after having

built her, he was to command her. The grade of captain was bestowed upon

him with the approbation of all. To satisfy Captain Pencroft, it was now

necessary to give a name to the vessel, and, after many propositions had

been discussed, the votes were all in favor of the “Bonadventure.” As

soon as the “Bonadventure” had been lifted by the rising tide, it was

seen that she lay evenly in the water, and would be easily navigated.

However, the trial trip was to be made that very day, by an excursion

off the coast. The weather was fine, the breeze fresh, and the sea

smooth, especially towards the south coast, for the wind was blowing

from the northwest.

“All hands on board,” shouted Pencroft; but breakfast was first

necessary, and it was thought best to take provisions on board, in the

event of their excursion being prolonged until the evening.

Cyrus Harding was equally anxious to try the vessel, the model of which

had originated with him, although on the sailor’s advice he had altered

some parts of it, but he did not share Pencroft’s confidence in her,

and as the latter had not again spoken of the voyage to Tabor Island,

Harding hoped he had given it up. He would have indeed great reluctance

in letting two or three of his companions venture so far in so small a

boat, which was not of more than fifteen tons’ burden.

At half-past ten everybody was on board, even Top and Jup, and Herbert

weighed the anchor, which was fast in the sand near the mouth of the

Mercy. The sail was hoisted, the Lincolnian flag floated from the

masthead, and the “Bonadventure,” steered by Pencroft, stood out to sea.

The wind blowing out of Union Bay she ran before it, and thus showed her

owners, much to their satisfaction, that she possessed a remarkably fast

pair of heels, according to Pencroft’s mode of speaking. After having

doubled Flotsam Point and Claw Cape, the captain kept her close hauled,

so as to sail along the southern coast of the island, when it was found

she sailed admirably within five points of the wind. All hands were

enchanted, they had a good vessel, which, in case of need, would be

of great service to them, and with fine weather and a fresh breeze the

voyage promised to be charming.

Pencroft now stood off the shore, three or four miles across from Port

Balloon. The island then appeared in all its extent and under a new

aspect, with the varied panorama of its shore from Claw Cape to Reptile

End, the forests in which dark firs contrasted with the young foliage

of other trees and overlooked the whole, and Mount Franklin whose lofty

head was still whitened with snow.

“How beautiful it is!” cried Herbert.

“Yes, our island is beautiful and good,” replied Pencroft. “I love it as

I loved my poor mother. It received us poor and destitute, and now what

is wanting to us five fellows who fell on it from the sky?”

“Nothing,” replied Neb; “nothing, captain.”

And the two brave men gave three tremendous cheers in honor of their

island!

During all this time Gideon Spilett, leaning against the mast, sketched

the panorama which was developed before his eyes.

Cyrus Harding gazed on it in silence.

“Well, Captain Harding,” asked Pencroft, “what do you think of our

vessel?”

“She appears to behave well,” replied the engineer.

“Good! And do you think now that she could undertake a voyage of some

extent?”

“What voyage, Pencroft?”

“One to Tabor Island, for instance.”

“My friend,” replied Harding, “I think that in any pressing emergency

we need not hesitate to trust ourselves to the ‘Bonadventure’ even for

a longer voyage; but you know I should see you set off to Tabor Island

with great uneasiness, since nothing obliges you to go there.”

“One likes to know one’s neighbors,” returned the sailor, who was

obstinate in his idea. “Tabor Island is our neighbor, and the only one!

Politeness requires us to go at least to pay a visit.”

“By Jove,” said Spilett, “our friend Pencroft has become very particular

about the proprieties all at once!”

“I am not particular about anything at all,” retorted the sailor, who

was rather vexed by the engineer’s opposition, but who did not wish to

cause him anxiety.

“Consider, Pencroft,” resumed Harding, “you cannot go alone to Tabor

Island.”

“One companion will be enough for me.”

“Even so,” replied the engineer, “you will risk depriving the colony of

Lincoln Island of two settlers out of five.”

“Out of six,” answered Pencroft; “you forget Jup.”

“Out of seven,” added Neb; “Top is quite worth another.”

“There is no risk at all in it, captain,” replied Pencroft.

“That is possible, Pencroft; but I repeat it is to expose ourselves

uselessly.”

The obstinate sailor did not reply, and let the conversation drop, quite

determined to resume it again. But he did not suspect that an incident

would come to his aid and change into an act of humanity that which was

at first only a doubtful whim.

After standing off the shore the “Bonadventure” again approached it

in the direction of Port Balloon. It was important to ascertain the

channels between the sandbanks and reefs, that buoys might be laid down

since this little creek was to be the harbor.

They were not more than half a mile from the coast, and it was necessary

to tack to beat against the wind. The “Bonadventure” was then going at a

very moderate rate, as the breeze, partly intercepted by the high land,

scarcely swelled her sails, and the sea, smooth as glass, was only

rippled now and then by passing gusts.

Herbert had stationed himself in the bows that he might indicate the

course to be followed among the channels, when all at once he shouted,--

“Luff, Pencroft, luff!”

“What’s the matter,” replied the sailor; “a rock?”

“No--wait,” said Herbert; “I don’t quite see. Luff again--right--now.”

So saying, Herbert, leaning over the side, plunged his arm into the

water, and pulled it out, exclaiming,--

“A bottle!”

He held in his hand a corked bottle which he had just seized a few

cables’ length from the shore.

Cyrus Harding took the bottle. Without uttering a single word he drew

the cork, and took from it a damp paper, on which were written these

words:--

“Castaway.... Tabor island: 153deg W. long., 37deg 11’ S. lat.”