Chapter 11
Half an hour later Cyrus Harding and Herbert had returned to theencampment. The engineer merely told his companions that the land uponwhich fate had thrown them was an island, and that the next day theywould consult. Then each settled himself as well as he could to sleep,and in that rocky hole, at a height of two thousand five hundred feetabove the level of the sea, through a peaceful night, the islandersenjoyed profound repose.
The next day, the 30th of March, after a hasty breakfast, whichconsisted solely of the roasted tragopan, the engineer wished to climbagain to the summit of the volcano, so as more attentively to surveythe island upon which he and his companions were imprisoned for lifeperhaps, should the island be situated at a great distance from anyland, or if it was out of the course of vessels which visited thearchipelagoes of the Pacific Ocean. This time his companions followedhim in the new exploration. They also wished to see the island, on theproductions of which they must depend for the supply of all their wants.
It was about seven o'clock in the morning when Cyrus Harding, Herbert,Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and Neb quitted the encampment. No oneappeared to be anxious about their situation. They had faith inthemselves, doubtless, but it must be observed that the basis of thisfaith was not the same with Harding as with his companions. The engineerhad confidence, because he felt capable of extorting from this wildcountry everything necessary for the life of himself and his companions;the latter feared nothing, just because Cyrus Harding was with them.Pencroft especially, since the incident of the relighted fire, wouldnot have despaired for an instant, even if he was on a bare rock, if theengineer was with him on the rock.
"Pshaw," said he, "we left Richmond without permission from theauthorities! It will be hard if we don't manage to get away some day orother from a place where certainly no one will detain us!"
Cyrus Harding followed the same road as the evening before. They wentround the cone by the plateau which formed the shoulder, to the mouth ofthe enormous chasm. The weather was magnificent. The sun rose in a puresky and flooded with his rays all the eastern side of the mountain.
The crater was reached. It was just what the engineer had made it out tobe in the dark; that is to say, a vast funnel which extended, widening,to a height of a thousand feet above the plateau. Below the chasm, largethick streaks of lava wound over the sides of the mountain, and thusmarked the course of the eruptive matter to the lower valleys whichfurrowed the northern part of the island.
The interior of the crater, whose inclination did not exceed thirty fiveto forty degrees, presented no difficulties nor obstacles to the ascent.Traces of very ancient lava were noticed, which probably had overflowedthe summit of the cone, before this lateral chasm had opened a new wayto it.
As to the volcanic chimney which established a communication between thesubterranean layers and the crater, its depth could not be calculatedwith the eye, for it was lost in obscurity. But there was no doubt as tothe complete extinction of the volcano.
Before eight o'clock Harding and his companions were assembled at thesummit of the crater, on a conical mound which swelled the northernedge.
"The sea, the sea everywhere!" they cried, as if their lips could notrestrain the words which made islanders of them.
The sea, indeed, formed an immense circular sheet of water all aroundthem! Perhaps, on climbing again to the summit of the cone, CyrusHarding had had a hope of discovering some coast, some island shore,which he had not been able to perceive in the dark the evening before.But nothing appeared on the farthest verge of the horizon, that is tosay over a radius of more than fifty miles. No land in sight. Not asail. Over all this immense space the ocean alone was visible--theisland occupied the center of a circumference which appeared to beinfinite.
The engineer and his companions, mute and motionless, surveyed forsome minutes every point of the ocean, examining it to its most extremelimits. Even Pencroft, who possessed a marvelous power of sight, sawnothing; and certainly if there had been land at the horizon, if itappeared only as an indistinct vapor, the sailor would undoubtedlyhave found it out, for nature had placed regular telescopes under hiseyebrows.
From the ocean their gaze returned to the island which they commandedentirely, and the first question was put by Gideon Spilett in theseterms:
"About what size is this island?"
Truly, it did not appear large in the midst of the immense ocean.
Cyrus Harding reflected a few minutes; he attentively observed theperimeter of the island, taking into consideration the height at whichhe was placed; then,--
"My friends," said he, "I do not think I am mistaken in giving to theshore of the island a circumference of more than a hundred miles."
"And consequently an area?"
"That is difficult to estimate," replied the engineer, "for it is souneven."
If Cyrus Harding was not mistaken in his calculation, the island hadalmost the extent of Malta or Zante, in the Mediterranean, but it was atthe same time much more irregular and less rich in capes, promontories,points, bays, or creeks. Its strange form caught the eye, and whenGideon Spilett, on the engineer's advice, had drawn the outline, theyfound that it resembled some fantastic animal, a monstrous leviathan,which lay sleeping on the surface of the Pacific.
This was in fact the exact shape of the island, which it is ofconsequence to know, and a tolerably correct map of it was immediatelydrawn by the reporter.
The east part of the shore, where the castaways had landed, formed awide bay, terminated by a sharp cape, which had been concealed by a highpoint from Pencroft on his first exploration. At the northeast two othercapes closed the bay, and between them ran a narrow gulf, which lookedlike the half-open jaws of a formidable dog-fish.
From the northeast to the southwest the coast was rounded, likethe flattened cranium of an animal, rising again, forming a sort ofprotuberance which did not give any particular shape to this part of theisland, of which the center was occupied by the volcano.
From this point the shore ran pretty regularly north and south, brokenat two-thirds of its perimeter by a narrow creek, from which it ended ina long tail, similar to the caudal appendage of a gigantic alligator.
This tail formed a regular peninsula, which stretched more than thirtymiles into the sea, reckoning from the cape southeast of the island,already mentioned; it curled round, making an open roadstead, whichmarked out the lower shore of this strangely-formed land.
At the narrowest part, that is to say between the Chimneys and the creekon the western shore, which corresponded to it in latitude, the islandonly measured ten miles; but its greatest length, from the jaws at thenortheast to the extremity of the tail of the southwest, was not lessthan thirty miles.
As to the interior of the island, its general aspect was this, verywoody throughout the southern part from the mountain to the shore, andarid and sandy in the northern part. Between the volcano and the eastcoast Cyrus Harding and his companions were surprised to see alake, bordered with green trees, the existence of which they had notsuspected. Seen from this height, the lake appeared to be on the samelevel as the ocean, but, on reflection, the engineer explained to hiscompanions that the altitude of this little sheet of water must be aboutthree hundred feet, because the plateau, which was its basin, was but aprolongation of the coast.
"Is it a freshwater lake?" asked Pencroft.
"Certainly," replied the engineer, "for it must be fed by the waterwhich flows from the mountain."
"I see a little river which runs into it," said Herbert, pointing out anarrow stream, which evidently took its source somewhere in the west.
"Yes," said Harding; "and since this stream feeds the lake, mostprobably on the side near the sea there is an outlet by which thesurplus water escapes. We shall see that on our return."
This little winding watercourse and the river already mentionedconstituted the water-system, at least such as it was displayed to theeyes of the explorers. However, it was possible that under the masses oftrees which
covered two-thirds of the island, forming an immense forest,other rivers ran towards the sea. It might even be inferred that suchwas the case, so rich did this region appear in the most magnificentspecimens of the flora of the temperate zones. There was no indicationof running water in the north, though perhaps there might be stagnantwater among the marshes in the northeast; but that was all, in additionto the downs, sand, and aridity which contrasted so strongly with theluxuriant vegetation of the rest of the island.
The volcano did not occupy the central part; it rose, on the contrary,in the northwestern region, and seemed to mark the boundary of the twozones. At the southwest, at the south, and the southeast, the first partof the spurs were hidden under masses of verdure. At the north, on thecontrary, one could follow their ramifications, which died away on thesandy plains. It was on this side that, at the time when the mountainwas in a state of eruption, the discharge had worn away a passage, anda large heap of lava had spread to the narrow jaw which formed thenortheastern gulf.
Cyrus Harding and his companions remained an hour at the top of themountain. The island was displayed under their eyes, like a plan inrelief with different tints, green for the forests, yellow for thesand, blue for the water. They viewed it in its tout-ensemble, nothingremained concealed but the ground hidden by verdure, the hollows of thevalleys, and the interior of the volcanic chasms.
One important question remained to be solved, and the answer would havea great effect upon the future of the castaways.
Was the island inhabited?
It was the reporter who put this question, to which after the closeexamination they had just made, the answer seemed to be in the negative.
Nowhere could the work of a human hand be perceived. Not a group ofhuts, not a solitary cabin, not a fishery on the shore. No smoke curlingin the air betrayed the presence of man. It is true, a distance ofnearly thirty miles separated the observers from the extreme points,that is, of the tail which extended to the southwest, and it would havebeen difficult, even to Pencroft's eyes, to discover a habitation there.Neither could the curtain of verdure, which covered three-quartersof the island, be raised to see if it did not shelter some stragglingvillage. But in general the islanders live on the shores of the narrowspaces which emerge above the waters of the Pacific, and this shoreappeared to be an absolute desert.
Until a more complete exploration, it might be admitted that the islandwas uninhabited. But was it frequented, at least occasionally, bythe natives of neighboring islands? It was difficult to reply to thisquestion. No land appeared within a radius of fifty miles. But fiftymiles could be easily crossed, either by Malay proas or by the largePolynesian canoes. Everything depended on the position of the island,of its isolation in the Pacific, or of its proximity to archipelagoes.Would Cyrus Harding be able to find out their latitude and longitudewithout instruments? It would be difficult. Since he was in doubt, itwas best to take precautions against a possible descent of neighboringnatives.
The exploration of the island was finished, its shape determined, itsfeatures made out, its extent calculated, the water and mountain systemsascertained. The disposition of the forests and plains had been markedin a general way on the reporter's plan. They had now only to descendthe mountain slopes again, and explore the soil, in the triple point ofview, of its mineral, vegetable, and animal resources.
But before giving his companions the signal for departure, Cyrus Hardingsaid to them in a calm, grave voice,--
"Here, my friends, is the small corner of land upon which the hand ofthe Almighty has thrown us. We are going to live here; a long time,perhaps. Perhaps, too, unexpected help will arrive, if some ship passesby chance. I say by chance, because this is an unimportant island; thereis not even a port in which ships could anchor, and it is to be fearedthat it is situated out of the route usually followed, that is to say,too much to the south for the ships which frequent the archipelagoes ofthe Pacific, and too much to the north for those which go to Australiaby doubling Cape Horn. I wish to hide nothing of our position fromyou--"
"And you are right, my dear Cyrus," replied the reporter, withanimation. "You have to deal with men. They have confidence in you, andyou can depend upon them. Is it not so, my friends?"
"I will obey you in everything, captain," said Herbert, seizing theengineer's hand.
"My master always, and everywhere!" cried Neb.
"As for me," said the sailor, "if I ever grumble at work, my name's notJack Pencroft, and if you like, captain, we will make a little Americaof this island! We will build towns, we will establish railways, starttelegraphs, and one fine day, when it is quite changed, quite put inorder and quite civilized, we will go and offer it to the government ofthe Union. Only, I ask one thing."
"What is that?" said the reporter.
"It is, that we do not consider ourselves castaways, but colonists,who have come here to settle." Harding could not help smiling, and thesailor's idea was adopted. He then thanked his companions, and added,that he would rely on their energy and on the aid of Heaven.
"Well, now let us set off to the Chimneys!" cried Pencroft.
"One minute, my friends," said the engineer. "It seems to me it wouldbe a good thing to give a name to this island, as well as to, the capes,promontories, and watercourses, which we can see.
"Very good," said the reporter. "In the future, that will simplify theinstructions which we shall have to give and follow."
"Indeed," said the sailor, "already it is something to be able to saywhere one is going, and where one has come from. At least, it looks likesomewhere."
"The Chimneys, for example," said Herbert.
"Exactly!" replied Pencroft. "That name was the most convenient, and itcame to me quite of myself. Shall we keep the name of the Chimneys forour first encampment, captain?"
"Yes, Pencroft, since you have so christened it."
"Good! as for the others, that will be easy," returned the sailor, whowas in high spirits. "Let us give them names, as the Robinsons did,whose story Herbert has often read to me; Providence Bay, Whale Point,Cape Disappointment!"
"Or, rather, the names of Captain Harding," said Herbert, "of Mr.Spilett, of Neb!--"
"My name!" cried Neb, showing his sparkling white teeth.
"Why not?" replied Pencroft. "Port Neb, that would do very well! AndCape Gideon--"
"I should prefer borrowing names from our country," said the reporter,"which would remind us of America."
"Yes, for the principal ones," then said Cyrus Harding; "for those ofthe bays and seas, I admit it willingly. We might give to that vast bayon the east the name of Union Bay, for example; to that large hollow onthe south, Washington Bay; to the mountain upon which we are standing,that of Mount Franklin; to that lake which is extended under our eyes,that of Lake Grant; nothing could be better, my friends. These nameswill recall our country, and those of the great citizens who havehonored it; but for the rivers, gulfs, capes, and promontories, which weperceive from the top of this mountain, rather let us choose names whichwill recall their particular shape. They will impress themselves betteron our memory, and at the same time will be more practical. The shape ofthe island is so strange that we shall not be troubled to imaginewhat it resembles. As to the streams which we do not know as yet, indifferent parts of the forest which we shall explore later, the creekswhich afterwards will be discovered, we can christen them as we findthem. What do you think, my friends?"
The engineer's proposal was unanimously agreed to by his companions. Theisland was spread out under their eyes like a map, and they had only togive names to all its angles and points. Gideon Spilett would writethem down, and the geographical nomenclature of the island would bedefinitely adopted. First, they named the two bays and the mountain,Union Bay, Washington Bay, and Mount Franklin, as the engineer hadsuggested.
"Now," said the reporter, "to this peninsula at the southwest of theisland, I propose to give the name of Serpentine Peninsula, and that ofReptile-end to the bent tail which terminates it, for it is just
like areptile's tail."
"Adopted," said the engineer.
"Now," said Herbert, pointing to the other extremity of the island, "letus call this gulf which is so singularly like a pair of open jaws, SharkGulf."
"Capital!" cried Pencroft, "and we can complete the resemblance bynaming the two parts of the jaws Mandible Cape."
"But there are two capes," observed the reporter.
"Well," replied Pencroft, "we can have North Mandible Cape and SouthMandible Cape."
"They are inscribed," said Spilett.
"There is only the point at the southeastern extremity of the island tobe named," said Pencroft.
"That is, the extremity of Union Bay?" asked Herbert.
"Claw Cape," cried Neb directly, who also wished to be godfather to somepart of his domain.
In truth, Neb had found an excellent name, for this cape was very likethe powerful claw of the fantastic animal which this singularly-shapedisland represented.
Pencroft was delighted at the turn things had taken, and theirimaginations soon gave to the river which furnished the settlers withdrinking water and near which the balloon had thrown them, the name ofthe Mercy, in true gratitude to Providence. To the islet upon which thecastaways had first landed, the name of Safety Island; to the plateauwhich crowned the high granite precipice above the Chimneys, and fromwhence the gaze could embrace the whole of the vast bay, the name ofProspect Heights.
Lastly, all the masses of impenetrable wood which covered the SerpentinePeninsula were named the forests of the Far West.
The nomenclature of the visible and known parts of the island wasthus finished, and later, they would complete it as they made freshdiscoveries.
As to the points of the compass, the engineer had roughly fixed them bythe height and position of the sun, which placed Union Bay and ProspectHeights to the east. But the next day, by taking the exact hour of therising and setting of the sun, and by marking its position between thisrising and setting, he reckoned to fix the north of the island exactly,for, in consequence of its situation in the Southern Hemisphere, thesun, at the precise moment of its culmination, passed in the north andnot in the south, as, in its apparent movement, it seems to do, to thoseplaces situated in the Northern Hemisphere.
Everything was finished, and the settlers had only to descend MountFranklin to return to the Chimneys, when Pencroft cried out,--
"Well! we are preciously stupid!"
"Why?" asked Gideon Spilett, who had closed his notebook and risen todepart.
"Why! our island! we have forgotten to christen it!"
Herbert was going to propose to give it the engineer's name and all hiscompanions would have applauded him, when Cyrus Harding said simply,--
"Let us give it the name of a great citizen, my friend; of him who nowstruggles to defend the unity of the American Republic! Let us call itLincoln Island!"
The engineer's proposal was replied to by three hurrahs.
And that evening, before sleeping, the new colonists talked of theirabsent country; they spoke of the terrible war which stained it withblood; they could not doubt that the South would soon be subdued, andthat the cause of the North, the cause of justice, would triumph, thanksto Grant, thanks to Lincoln!
Now this happened the 30th of March, 1865. They little knew that sixteendays afterwards a frightful crime would be committed in Washington, andthat on Good Friday Abraham Lincoln would fall by the hand of a fanatic.