CHAPTER NINETEEN.
CYRUS HARDING GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF HIS EXPLORATION--THE CONSTRUCTION OFTHE SHIP PUSHED FORWARD--A LAST VISIT TO THE CORRAL--THE BATTLE BETWEENFIRE AND WATER--ALL THAT REMAINS OF THE ISLAND--IT IS DECIDED TO LAUNCHTHE VESSEL--THE NIGHT OF THE 8TH OF MARCH.
The next day, the 8th of January, after a day and night passed at thecorral, where they left all in order, Cyrus Harding and Ayrton arrivedat Granite House.
The engineer immediately called his companions together, and informedthem of the imminent danger which threatened Lincoln Island, and fromwhich no human power could deliver them.
"My friends," he said, and his voice betrayed the depth of his emotion,"our island is not among those which will endure while this earthendures. It is doomed to more or less speedy destruction, the cause ofwhich it bears within itself, and from which nothing can save it."
The colonists looked at each other, then at the engineer. They did notclearly comprehend him.
"Explain yourself, Cyrus!" said Gideon Spilett.
"I will do so," replied Cyrus Harding, "or rather I will simply affordyou the explanation which, during our few minutes of privateconversation, was given me by Captain Nemo."
"Captain Nemo!" exclaimed the colonists.
"Yes, and it was the last service he desired to render us before hisdeath!"
"The last service!" exclaimed Pencroft, "the last service! You will seethat though he is dead he will render us others yet!"
"But what did the captain say?" inquired the reporter.
"I will tell you, my friends," said the engineer. "Lincoln Island doesnot resemble the other islands of the Pacific, and a fact of whichCaptain Nemo has made me cognisant must sooner or later bring about thesubversion of its foundation."
"Nonsense! Lincoln Island, it can't be!" cried Pencroft, who, in spiteof the respect he felt for Cyrus Harding, could not prevent a gesture ofincredulity.
"Listen, Pencroft," resumed the engineer, "I will tell you what CaptainNemo communicated to me, and which I myself confirmed yesterday, duringthe exploration of Dakkar Grotto. This cavern stretches under theisland as far as the volcano, and is only separated from its centralshaft by the wall which terminates it. Now, this wall is seamed withfissures and clefts which already allow the sulphureous gases generatedin the interior of the volcano to escape."
"Well?" said Pencroft, his brow suddenly contracting.
"Well, then, I saw that these fissures widen under the internal pressurefrom within, that the wall of basalt is gradually giving way, and thatafter a longer or shorter period it will afford a passage to the watersof the lake which fill the cavern."
"Good!" replied Pencroft, with an attempt at pleasantry. "The sea willextinguish the volcano, and there will be an end of the matter!"
"Not so!" said Cyrus Harding, "should a day arrive when the sea, rushingthrough the wall of the cavern, penetrates by the central shaft into theinterior of the island to the boiling lava, Lincoln Island will that daybe blown into the air--just as would happen to the island of Sicily werethe Mediterranean to precipitate itself into Mount Etna."
The colonists made no answer to these significant words of the engineer.They now understood the danger by which they were menaced.
It may be added that Cyrus Harding had in no way exaggerated the dangerto be apprehended. Many persons have formed an idea that it would bepossible to extinguish volcanoes, which are almost always situated onthe shores of a sea or lake, by opening a passage for the admission ofthe water. But they are not aware that this would be to incur the riskof blowing up a portion of the globe, like a boiler whose steam issuddenly expanded by intense heat. The water, rushing into a cavitywhose temperature might be estimated at thousands of degrees, would beconverted into steam with a sudden energy which no enclosure couldresist.
It was not therefore doubtful that the island, menaced by a frightfuland approaching convulsion, would endure only so long as the wall ofDakkar Grotto itself should endure. It was not even a question ofmonths, nor of weeks; but of days, it might be of hours.
The first sentiment which the colonists felt was that of profoundsorrow. They thought not so much of the peril which menaced themselvespersonally, but of the destruction of the island which had shelteredthem, which they had cultivated, which they loved so well, and had hopedto render so flourishing. So much effort ineffectually expended, somuch labour lost.
Pencroft could not prevent a large tear from rolling down his cheek, nordid he attempt to conceal it.
Some further conversation now took place. The chances yet in favour ofthe colonists were discussed; but finally it was agreed that there wasnot an hour to be lost, that the building and fitting of the vesselshould be pushed forward with their utmost energy, and that this was thesole chance of safety for the inhabitants of Lincoln Island.
All hands, therefore, set to work on the vessel. What could it nowavail to sow, to reap, to hunt, to increase the stores of Granite House?The contents of the store-house and outbuildings contained more thansufficient to provide the ship for a voyage, however long might be itsduration. But it was imperative that the ship should be ready toreceive them before the inevitable catastrophe should arrive.
Their labours were now carried on with feverish ardour. By the 23rd ofJanuary the vessel was half-decked over. Up to this time no change hadtaken place in the summit of the volcano. Vapour and smoke mingled withflames and incandescent stones were thrown up from the crater. Butduring the night of the 23rd, in consequence of the lava attaining thelevel of the first stratum of the volcano, the hat-shaped cone whichformed over the latter disappeared. A frightful sound was heard. Thecolonists at first thought the island was rent asunder, and rushed outof Granite House.
This occurred about two o'clock in the morning.
The sky appeared on fire. The superior cone, a mass of rock a thousandfeet in height, and weighing thousands of millions of pounds, had beenthrown down upon the island, making it tremble to its foundation.Fortunately, this cone inclined to the north, and had fallen upon theplain of sand and tufa stretching between the volcano and the sea. Theaperture of the crater being thus enlarged projected towards the sky aglare so intense that by the simple effect of reflection the atmosphereappeared red-hot. At the same time a torrent of lava, bursting from thenew summit, poured out in long cascades, like water escaping from a vasetoo full, and a thousand tongues of fire crept over the sides of thevolcano.
"The corral! the corral!" exclaimed Ayrton.
It was, in fact, towards the corral that the lava was rushing, as thenew crater faced the east, and consequently the fertile portions of theisland, the springs of Red Creek and Jacamar Wood, were menaced withinstant destruction.
At Ayrton's cry the colonists rushed to the onagas' stables. The cartwas at once harnessed. All were possessed by the same thought--tohasten to the corral and set at liberty the animals it enclosed.
Before three in the morning they arrived at the corral. The cries ofthe terrified musmons and goats indicated the alarm which possessedthem. Already a torrent of burning matter and liquefied minerals fellfrom the side of the mountain upon the meadows as far as the side of thepalisade. The gate was burst open by Ayrton, and the animals,bewildered with terror, fled in all directions.
An hour afterwards the boiling lava filled the corral, converting intovapour the water of the little rivulet which ran through it, burning upthe house like dry grass, and leaving not even a post of the palisade tomark the spot where the corral once stood.
To contend against this disaster would have been folly--nay, madness.In presence of Nature's grand convulsions man is powerless.
It was now daylight--the 24th of January. Cyrus Harding and hiscompanions, before returning to Granite House, desired to ascertain theprobable direction this inundation of lava was about to take. The soilsloped gradually from Mount Franklin to the east coast, and it was to befeared that, in spite of the thick Jacamar Wood, the torrent would reachthe plateau of Pros
pect Heights.
"The lake will cover us," said Gideon Spilett.
"I hope so!" was Cyrus Harding's only reply.
The colonists were desirous of reaching the plain upon which thesuperior cone of Mount Franklin had fallen, but the lava arrested theirprogress. It had followed, on one side, the valley of Red Creek, and onthe other that of Falls River, evaporating those watercourses in itspassage. There was no possibility of crossing the torrent of lava; onthe contrary, the colonists were obliged to retreat before it. Thevolcano, without its crown, was no longer recognisable, terminated as itwas by a sort of flat table which replaced the ancient crater. From twoopenings in its southern and eastern sides an unceasing flow of lavapoured forth, thus forming two distinct streams. Above the new crater acloud of smoke and ashes, mingled with those of the atmosphere, massedover the island. Loud peals of thunder broke, and could scarcely bedistinguished from the rumblings of the mountain, whose mouth vomitedforth ignited rocks, which, hurled to more than a thousand feet, burstin the air like shells. Flashes of lightning rivalled in intensity thevolcano's eruption.
Towards seven in the morning the position was no longer tenable by thecolonists, who accordingly took shelter in the borders of Jacamar Wood.Not only did the projectiles begin to rain around them, but the lava,overflowing the bed of Red Creek, threatened to cut off the road to thecorral. The nearest rows of trees caught fire, and their sap, suddenlytransformed into vapour, caused them to explode with loud reports,whilst others, less moist, remained unhurt in the midst of theinundation.
The colonists had again taken the road to the corral. They proceededbut slowly, frequently looking back; but, in consequence of theinclination of the soil, the lava gained rapidly in the east, and as itslower waves became solidified, others at boiling heat covered themimmediately.
Meanwhile, the principal stream of Red Creek valley became more and moremenacing. All this portion of the forest was on fire, and enormouswreaths of smoke rolled over the trees, whose trunks were alreadyconsumed by the lava. The colonists halted near the lake, about half amile from the mouth of Red Creek. A question of life or death was nowto be decided.
Cyrus Harding, accustomed to the consideration of important crises, andaware that he was addressing men capable of hearing the truth, whateverit might be, then said--
"Either the lake will arrest the progress of the lava, and a part of theisland will be preserved from utter destruction, or the stream willoverrun the forests of the Far West, and not a tree or plant will remainon the surface of the soil. We shall have no prospect but that ofstarvation upon these barren rocks--a death which will probably beanticipated by the explosion of the island."
"In that case," replied Pencroft, folding his arms and stamping hisfoot, "what's the use of working any longer on the vessel?"
"Pencroft," answered Cyrus Harding, "we must do our duty to the last!"
At this instant the river of lava, after having broken a passage throughthe noble trees it devoured in its course, reached the borders of thelake. At this point there was an elevation of the soil which, had itbeen greater, might have sufficed to arrest the torrent.
"To work!" cried Cyrus Harding.
The engineer's thought was at once understood. It might be possible todam, as it were, the torrent, and thus compel it to pour itself into thelake.
The colonists hastened to the dockyard. They returned with shovels,picks, axes, and by means of banking the earth with the aid of fallentrees they succeeded in a few hours in raising an embankment three feethigh and some hundreds of paces in length. It seemed to them, when theyhad finished, as if they had scarcely been working more than a fewminutes.
It was not a moment too soon. The liquefied substances soon afterreached the bottom of the barrier. The stream of lava swelled like ariver about to overflow its banks, and threatened to demolish the soleobstacle which could prevent it from overrunning the whole Far West.But the dam held firm, and after a moment of terrible suspense thetorrent precipitated itself into Grant Lake from a height of twentyfeet.
The colonists, without moving or uttering a word, breathlessly regardedthis strife of the two elements.
What a spectacle was this conflict between water and fire! What pencould describe the marvellous horror of this scene--what pencil coulddepict it? The water hissed as it evaporated by contact with theboiling lava. The vapour whirled in the air to an immeasurable height,as if the valves of an immense boiler had been suddenly opened. But,however considerable might be the volume of water contained in the lake,it must eventually be absorbed, because it was not replenished, whilstthe stream of lava, fed from an inexhaustible source, rolled on withoutceasing new waves of incandescent matter.
The first waves of lava which fell in the lake immediately solidified,and accumulated so as speedily to emerge from it. Upon their surfacefell other waves, which in their turn became stone, but a step nearerthe centre of the lake. In this manner was formed a pier whichthreatened to gradually fill up the lake, which could not overflow, thewater displaced by the lava being evaporated. The hissing of the waterrent the air with a deafening sound, and the vapour, blown by the wind,fell in rain upon the sea. The pier became longer and longer, and theblocks of lava piled themselves one on another. Where formerlystretched the calm waters of the lake now appeared an enormous mass ofsmoking rocks, as if an upheaving of the soil had formed immense shoals.Imagine the waters of the lake aroused by a hurricane, then suddenlysolidified by an intense frost, and some conception may be formed of theaspect of the lake three hours after the irruption of this irresistibletorrent of lava.
This time water would be vanquished by fire.
Nevertheless it was a fortunate circumstance for the colonists that theeffusion of lava should have been in the direction of Lake Grant. Theyhad before them some days' respite. The plateau of Prospect Heights,Granite House, and the dockyard were for the moment preserved. Andthese few days it was necessary to employ them in planking, carefullycaulking the vessel, and launching her. The colonists would then takerefuge on board the vessel, content to rig her after she should beafloat on the waters. With the danger of an explosion which threatenedto destroy the island there could be no security on shore. The walls ofGranite House, once so sure a retreat, might at any moment fall in uponthem.
During the six following days, from the 25th to the 30th of January, thecolonists accomplished as much of the construction of their vessel astwenty men could have done. They hardly allowed themselves a moment'srepose, and the glare of the flames which shot from the crater enabledthem to work night and day. The flow of lava continued, but perhapsless abundantly. This was fortunate, for Lake Grant was almost entirelychoked up, and if more lava should accumulate it would inevitably spreadover the plateau of Prospect Heights, and thence upon the beach.
But if the island was thus partially protected on this side, it was notso with the western part.
In fact, the second stream of lava, which had followed the valley ofFalls River, a valley of great extent, the land on both sides of thecreek being flat, met with no obstacle. The burning liquid had thenspread through the forest of the Far West. At this period of the year,when the trees were dried up by a tropical heat, the forest caught fireinstantaneously, in such a manner that the conflagration extended itselfboth by the trunks of the trees and by their higher branches, whoseinterlacement favoured its progress. It even appeared that the currentof flame spread more rapidly among the summits of the trees than thecurrent of lava at their bases.
Thus it happened that the wild animals, jaguars, wild boars, cabybaras,koulas, and game of every kind, mad with terror, had fled to the banksof the Mercy and to the Tadorn Marsh, beyond the road to Port Balloon.But the colonists were too much occupied with their task to pay anyattention to even the most formidable of these animals. They hadabandoned Granite House, and would not even take shelter at theChimneys, but encamped under a tent, near the mouth of the Mercy.
Each day Cyrus Harding and Gideon
Spilett ascended the plateau ofProspect Heights. Sometimes Herbert accompanied them, but neverPencroft, who could not bear to look upon the prospect of the island nowso utterly devastated.
It was, in truth, a heartrending spectacle. All the wooded part of theisland was now completely bare. One single clump of green trees raisedtheir heads at the extremity of Serpentine Peninsula. Here and therewere a few grotesque blackened and branchless stumps. The site of thedevastated forest was even more barren than Tadorn Marsh. The irruptionof the lava had been complete. Where formerly sprang up that charmingverdure, the soil was now nothing but a savage mass of volcanic tufa.In the valleys of the Falls and Mercy rivers no drop of water now flowedtowards the sea, and should Lake Grant be entirely dried up, thecolonists would have no means of quenching their thirst. But,fortunately, the lava had spared the southern corner of the lake,containing all that remained of the drinkable water of the island.Towards the north-west stood out the rugged and well-defined outlines ofthe sides of the volcano, like a gigantic claw hovering over the island.What a sad and fearful sight, and how painful to the colonists, who,from a fertile domain covered with forests, irrigated by watercourses,and enriched by the produce of their toils, found themselves, as itwere, transported to a desolate rock, upon which, but for their reservesof provisions, they could not even gather the means of subsistence!
"It is enough to break one's heart!" said Gideon Spilett, one day.
"Yes, Spilett," answered the engineer. "May God grant us the time tocomplete this vessel, now our sole refuge!"
"Do not you think, Cyrus, that the violence of the eruption has somewhatlessened? The volcano still vomits forth lava, but somewhat lessabundantly, if I mistake not."
"It matters little," answered Cyrus Harding. "The fire is still burningin the interior of the mountain, and the sea may break in at any moment.We are in the condition of passengers whose ship is devoured by aconflagration which they cannot extinguish, and who know that sooner orlater the flames must reach the powder-magazine. To work, Spilett, towork, and let us not lose an hour!"
During eight days more, that is to say until the 7th of February, thelava continued to flow, but the eruption was confined within theprevious limits. Cyrus Harding feared above all lest the liquefiedmatter should overflow the shore, for in that event the dockyard couldnot escape. Moreover, about this time the colonists felt in the frameof the island vibrations which alarmed them to the highest degree.
It was the 20th of February. Yet another month must elapse before thevessel would be ready for sea. Would the island hold together tillthen? The intention of Pencroft and Cyrus Harding was to launch thevessel as soon as the hull should be complete. The deck, theupper-works, the interior woodwork and the rigging, might be finishedafterwards, but the essential point was that the colonists should havean assured refuge away from the island. Perhaps it might be even betterto conduct the vessel to Port Balloon, that is to say, as far aspossible from the centre of eruption, for at the mouth of the Mercy,between the islet and the wall of granite, it would run the risk ofbeing crushed in the event of any convulsion. All the exertions of thevoyagers were therefore concentrated upon the completion of the hull.
Thus the 3rd of March arrived, and they might calculate upon launchingthe vessel in ten days.
Hope revived in the hearts of the colonists, who had, in this fourthyear of their sojourn on Lincoln Island, suffered so many trials. EvenPencroft lost in some measure the sombre taciturnity occasioned by thedevastation and ruin of his domain. His hopes, it is true, wereconcentrated upon his vessel.
"We shall finish it," he said to the engineer, "we shall finish it,captain, and it is time, for the season is advancing and the equinoxwill soon be here. Well, if necessary, we must put in to Tabor Islandto spend the winter. But think of Tabor Island after Lincoln Island.Ah, how unfortunate! Who could have believed it possible?"
"Let us get on," was the engineer's invariable reply.
And they worked away without losing a moment.
"Master," asked Neb, a few days later, "do you think all this could havehappened if Captain Nemo had been still alive?"
"Certainly, Neb," answered Cyrus Harding.
"I, for one, don't believe it!" whispered Pencroft to Neb.
"Nor I!" answered Neb seriously.
During the first week of March appearances again became menacing.Thousands of threads like glass, formed of fluid lava, fell like rainupon the island. The crater was again boiling with lava whichoverflowed the back of the volcano. The torrent flowed along thesurface of the hardened tufa, and destroyed the few meagre skeletons oftrees which had withstood the first eruption. The stream flowing thistime towards the south-west shore of Lake Grant, stretched beyond CreekGlycerine, and invaded the plateau of Prospect Heights. This last blowto the work of the colonists was terrible. The mill, the buildings ofthe inner court, the stables, were all destroyed. The affrightedpoultry fled in all directions. Top and Jup showed signs of thegreatest alarm, as if their instinct warned them of an impendingcatastrophe. A large number of the animals of the island had perishedin the first eruption. Those which survived found no refuge but TadornMarsh, save a few to which the plateau of Prospect Heights afforded anasylum. But even this last retreat was now closed to them, and thelava-torrent, flowing over the edge of the granite wall, began to pourdown upon the beach its cataracts of fire. The sublime horror of thisspectacle passed all description. During the night it could only becompared to a Niagara of molten fluid, with its incandescent vapoursabove and its boiling masses below.
The colonists were driven to their last entrenchment, and although theupper seams of the vessel were not yet caulked, they decided to launchher at once.
Pencroft and Ayrton therefore set about the necessary preparations forthe launch, which was to take place the morning of the next day, the 9thof March.
But, during the night of the 8th an enormous column of vapour escapingfrom the crater rose with frightful explosions to a height of more thanthree thousand feet. The wall of Dakkar Grotto had evidently given wayunder the pressure of the gases, and the sea, rushing through thecentral shaft into the igneous gulf, was at once converted into vapour.But the crater could not afford a sufficient outlet for this vapour. Anexplosion, which might have been heard at a distance of a hundred miles,shook the air. Fragments of mountains fell into the Pacific, and, in afew minutes, the ocean rolled over the spot where Lincoln Island oncestood.