Chapter 30
In Which Phileas Fogg Simply Does His Duty
Three passengers--including Passepartout--had disappeared. Hadthey been killed in the struggle? Were they taken prisoners bythe Sioux? It was impossible to tell.
There were many wounded, but none mortally. Colonel Proctor wasone of the most seriously hurt. He had fought bravely, and a ballhad entered his groin. He was carried into the station with theother wounded passengers, to receive such attention as could beof help.
Aouda was safe. Phileas Fogg, who had been in the thickest of thefight, had not received a scratch. Fix was slightly wounded inthe arm. But Passepartout was not to be found, and tears courseddown Aouda's cheeks.
All the passengers had gotten out of the train, the wheels ofwhich were stained with blood. From the tires and spokes hungragged pieces of flesh. As far as the eye could reach on thewhite plain behind, red trails were visible. The last Sioux weredisappearing in the south, along the banks of Republican River.
Mr. Fogg, with folded arms, remained motionless. He had a seriousdecision to make. Aouda, standing near him, looked at him withoutspeaking, and he understood her look. If his servant was aprisoner, ought he not to risk everything to rescue him from theIndians? "I will find him, living or dead," he said quietly toAouda.
"Ah, Mr.--Mr. Fogg!" cried she, clasping his hands and coveringthem with tears.
"Living," added Mr. Fogg, "if we do not lose a moment."
Phileas Fogg, by this resolution, inevitably sacrificed himself.He pronounced his own doom. The delay of a single day would makehim lose the steamer at New York, and his bet would be certainlylost. But as he thought, "It is my duty," he did not hesitate.
The commanding officer of Fort Kearney was there. A hundred ofhis soldiers had placed themselves in a position to defend thestation, should the Sioux attack it.
"Sir," said Mr. Fogg to the captain, "three passengers havedisappeared."
"Dead?" asked the captain.
"Dead or prisoners. That is the uncertainty which must be solved.Do you propose to pursue the Sioux?"
"That's a serious thing to do, sir," returned the captain. "TheseIndians may retreat beyond the Arkansas, and I cannot leave thefort unprotected."
"The lives of three men are in question, sir," said PhileasFogg.
"Doubtless, but can I risk the lives of fifty men to savethree?"
"I don't know whether you can, sir, but you ought to do so.
"Nobody here," returned the other, "has a right to teach me myduty."
"Very well," said Mr. Fogg, coldly. "I will go alone."
"You, sir!" cried Fix, coming up. "You go alone in pursuit of theIndians?"
"Would you have me leave this poor fellow to perish--him to whomeveryone present owes his life? I shall go."
"No, sir, you shall not go alone," cried the captain, touched inspite of himself. "No! You are a brave man. Thirty volunteers!"he added, turning to the soldiers.
The whole company started forward at once. The captain had onlyto pick his men. Thirty were chosen, and an old sergeant placedat their head.
"Thanks, captain," said Mr. Fogg.
"Will you let me go with you?" asked Fix.
"Do as you please, sir. But if you wish to do me a favor, youwill remain with Aouda. In case anything should happen to me--"
A sudden pallor overspread the detective's face. Separate himselffrom the man whom he had so persistently followed step by step!Leave him to wander about in this desert! Fix gazed attentivelyat Mr. Fogg, and, despite his suspicions and of the strugglewhich was going on within him, he lowered his eyes before thatcalm and frank look.
"I will stay," he said.
A few moments later, Mr. Fogg pressed the young woman's hand,and, having confided to her his precious carpetbag, went off withthe sergeant and his little squad. But, before going, he had saidto the soldiers, "My friends, I will divide five thousand dollarsamong you, if we save the prisoners."
It was then a little past noon.
Aouda retired to a waiting-room, and there she waited alone,thinking of the simple and noble generosity, the tranquilcourage of Phileas Fogg. He had sacrificed his fortune, and wasnow risking his life, all without hesitation, from duty, insilence.
Fix did not have the same thoughts, and could scarcely concealhis agitation. He walked feverishly up and down the platform, butsoon resumed his outward composure. He now saw the folly of whichhe had been guilty in letting Fogg go alone. What! This man, whomhe had just followed around the world, was permitted now toseparate himself from him! He began to accuse and abuse himself,and, as if he were director of police, administered to himself asound lecture for his greenness.
"I have been an idiot!" he thought, "and this man will see it. Hehas gone, and won't come back! But how is it that I, who have inmy pocket a warrant for his arrest, have been so fascinated byhim? Decidedly, I am nothing but an ass!"
So reasoned the detective, while the hours crept by all tooslowly. He did not know what to do. Sometimes he was tempted totell Aouda all, but he could not doubt how the young woman wouldreceive his confidences. What course should he take? He thoughtof pursuing Fogg across the vast white plains. It did not seemimpossible that he might overtake him. Footsteps were easilyprinted on the snow! But soon, under a new sheet, every imprintwould be effaced.
Fix became discouraged. He felt a sort of insurmountable longingto abandon the game altogether. He could now leave Fort Kearneystation, and pursue his journey homeward in peace.
Towards two o'clock in the afternoon, while it was snowing hard,long whistles were heard approaching from the east. A greatshadow, preceded by a wild light, slowly advanced, appearingstill larger through the mist, which gave it a fantastic aspect.No train was expected from the east, neither had there been timefor the help asked for by telegraph to arrive. The train fromOmaha to San Francisco was not due till the next day. The mysterywas soon explained.
The locomotive, which was slowly approaching with deafeningwhistles, was that which, having been detached from the train,had continued its route with such terrific rapidity, carrying offthe unconscious engineer and stoker. It had run several miles,when, the fire becoming low for want of fuel, the steam hadslackened. It had finally stopped an hour after, some twentymiles beyond Fort Kearney. Neither the engineer nor the stokerwas dead. After remaining for some time in their swoon, they hadcome to themselves. The train had then stopped. The engineer,when he found himself in the desert, and the locomotive withoutcars, understood what had happened. He could not imagine how thelocomotive had become separated from the train, but he did notdoubt that the train left behind was in distress.
He did not hesitate what to do. It would be prudent to continueon to Omaha, for it would be dangerous to return to the train,which the Indians might still be engaged in pillaging.Nevertheless, he began to rebuild the fire in the furnace; thepressure again mounted, and the locomotive returned, runningbackwards to Fort Kearney. This it was which was whistling in themist.
The travelers were glad to see the locomotive resume its place atthe head of the train. They could now continue the journey soterribly interrupted.
Aouda, on seeing the locomotive come up, hurried out of thestation, and asked the conductor, "Are you going to start?"
"At once, madam."
"But the prisoners, our unfortunate fellow-travelers--"
"I cannot interrupt the trip," replied the conductor. "We arealready three hours behind time."
"And when will another train pass here from San Francisco?"
"Tomorrow evening, madam."
"Tomorrow evening! But then it will be too late! We must wait--"
"It is impossible," responded the conductor. "If you wish to go,please get in."
"I will not go," said Aouda.
Fix had heard this conversation. A little while before, whenthere was no prospect of proceeding on the journey, he had madeup his mind to leave Fort Kearney; but now that the train wasthere, ready to start, and he had only to take hi
s seat in thecar, an irresistible influence held him back. The stationplatform burned his feet, and he could not stir. The conflict inhis mind again began; anger and failure stifled him. He wished tostruggle on to the end.
Meanwhile the passengers and some of the wounded, among themColonel Proctor, whose injuries were serious, had taken theirplaces in the train. The buzzing of the overheated boiler washeard, and the steam was escaping from the valves. The engineerwhistled, the train started, and soon disappeared, mingling itswhite smoke with the eddies of the densely falling snow.
The detective had remained behind.
Several hours passed. The weather was dismal, and it was verycold. Fix sat motionless on a bench in the station. He mighthave been thought asleep. Aouda, despite the storm, kept comingout of the waiting-room, going to the end of the platform, andpeering through the tempest of snow, as if to pierce the mistwhich narrowed the horizon around her, and to hear, if possible,some welcome sound. She heard and saw nothing. Then she wouldreturn, chilled through, to issue out again after the lapse of afew moments, but always in vain.
Evening came, and the little band had not returned. Where couldthey be? Had they found the Indians, and were they having aconflict with them, or were they still wandering amid the mist?The commander of the fort was anxious, though he tried to concealhis apprehensions. As night approached, the snow fell lessplentifully, but it became intensely cold. Absolute silencerested on the plains. Neither flight of bird nor passing of beasttroubled the perfect calm.
Throughout the night Aouda, full of sad forebodings, her heartstifled with anguish, wandered about on the verge of the plains.Her imagination carried her far off, and showed her innumerabledangers. What she suffered through the long hours it would beimpossible to describe.
Fix remained stationary in the same place, but did not sleep.Once a man approached and spoke to him, and the detective merelyreplied by shaking his head.
Thus the night passed. At dawn, the half-extinguished disc of thesun rose above a misty horizon; but it was now possible torecognize objects two miles off. Phileas Fogg and the squad hadgone southward. In the south there was not a sign of them. It wasthen seven o'clock.
The captain, who was really alarmed, did not know what course totake.
Should he send another detachment to the rescue of the first?Should he sacrifice more men, with so few chances of saving thosealready sacrificed? His hesitation did not last long, however.Calling one of his lieutenants, he was on the point of ordering areconnaissance, when gunshots were heard. Was it a signal? Thesoldiers rushed out of the fort, and half a mile off theyperceived a little band returning in good order.
Mr. Fogg was marching at their head, and just behind him werePassepartout and the other two travelers, rescued from theSioux.
They had met and fought the Indians ten miles south of FortKearney. Shortly before the detachment arrived, Passepartout andhis companions had begun to struggle with their captors, three ofwhom the Frenchman had felled with his fists, when his master andthe soldiers hastened up to their relief.
All were welcomed with joyful cries. Phileas Fogg distributed thereward he had promised to the soldiers, while Passepartout, notwithout reason, muttered to himself, "It must certainly beconfessed that I cost my master dear!"
Fix, without saying a word, looked at Mr. Fogg, and it would havebeen difficult to analyze the thoughts which struggled withinhim. As for Aouda, she took her protector's hand and pressed itin her own, too much moved to speak.
Meanwhile, Passepartout was looking about for the train. Hethought he should find it there, ready to start for Omaha, andhe hoped that the time lost might be regained.
"The train! The train!" cried he.
"Gone," replied Fix.
"And when does the next train pass here?" said Phileas Fogg.
"Not till this evening."
"Ah!" returned the impassible gentleman quietly.