by Jules Verne
Immediately he returned to his comrades, who could only think—
But before they had time to open their mouths, an animal rushed down the tunnel and leapt into the cave.
It was Fan!
Yes, Fan, whose first action was to rush to a bowl of water, and drink greedily. Then she wagged her tail, without showing the least anger, and began to jump about in front of Gordon. Evidently there was no danger.
Briant then took a lantern and entered the tunnel. Gordon, Donagan, Wilcox, Baxter, and Moko followed him. Soon they were through the hole and in the middle of the gloomy excavation, to which no light from the outside penetrated.
It was a second cave, with the same height and width as French Den, but longer, and the floor was covered with fine sand for an area of about fifty square yards.
As the cavity seemed to have no communication with the exterior, it was to be feared that the air was not fit to breathe. But as the lamp in the lantern burnt clearly, there must be some opening to admit the air. If not, how could Fan have got in?
Wilcox suddenly kicked his foot against a body—which, feeling with his hand, he found to be cold and motionless.
Briant approached with the light
‘It is the corpse of a jackal,’ said Baxter.
‘Yes! A jackal that our brave Fan has killed,’ said Briant.
‘And that explains our difficulty,’ said Gordon.
But if one or many jackals had made this their haunt, how had they got in? The entrance could not be found.
Briant then returned into French Den, and came out and ran along the cliff by the side of the lake. As he ran he shouted, and the boys in the cave replied. In this way he found a narrow entrance among the bushes, and level with the ground, through which the jackal had found admission. But since Fan had followed him a fall had taken place, and shut up the opening. This was soon found out, and everything was explained, the howling of the jackal and the barking of the dog who for twenty-four hours had found it impossible to get out.
Great was the satisfaction at these things. Not only was Fan returned to her young masters, but labour was spared them. Here, ‘ready-made,’ as Dole said, was a large cave of which Baudoin had never suspected the existence. By making the opening larger, they would get a second door towards the lake that would be of great convenience to them. And naturally the boys, as they stood in the new cave, indulged in a round of cheers, In which Fan joined with a joyous bark.
Vigorously they set to work to make the tunnel a practicable gangway; to the second excavation they gave the name of the ‘hall,’ and its dimensions justified them in doing so. It would do for the dormitory and work-room, while the first cave would serve as kitchen and refectory; but as they intended to make it a general magazine, Gordon proposed to call it the store-room, and his suggestion was adopted.
Soon they set to work to shift the beds and arrange them symmetrically on the sand of the hall, where there was plenty of room for them. Then the furniture of the schooner, the couches, arm-chairs, tables, cupboards, &c., and—what was very important—the stoves from the yacht’s day and night saloons were put in position. At the same time the entrance on the lake side was cleared out and enlarged so as to fit one of the schooner’s doors—a job which cost Baxter a good deal of trouble. On each side of the door two new openings were made so as to give light, until the evening, when a lamp hung from the centre illuminated the cave.
To do all this took a fortnight, and it was not finished any too soon. The weather had begun to change. It was not as yet very cold; but the storms had become so violent that out-door excursions were not to be thought of.
In fact, such was the force of the wind that the waters of the lake were lashed into waves as if it were a sea. The waves broke angrily on the beach, and assuredly a fishing-boat or wild man’s pirogue would have sought to cross it in vain. The yawl had been dragged ashore, to save its being washed away. At times the waters of the stream were held back by the wind, and overflowed the banks. Fortunately neither the store-room nor the hall was directly exposed to the fury of the gale, which blew from the west; and the stoves and cooking-apparatus worked admirably, being fed with dry wood, of which ample provision had been gathered.
It was a great triumph to get everything saved from the schooner under cover. The inclemency of the weather could not now damage the provisions. Gordon and his comrades, now imprisoned for the winter, had time to make themselves comfortable. They had enlarged the passage and dug out two deep side-chambers, one of which closed with a door, and was reserved for the ammunition, so as to avoid any danger of an explosion.
Although the gunners could not get away from the neighbourhood of French Den, yet there were enough aquatic birds close handy which filled Moko’s larder, although he did not always manage to cook them so as to get rid of their marshy taste.
When things were fairly in order Gordon proposed drawing up a programme to which all would have to submit when it had been approved by all. How long was their stay to be on this island? When they came to leave it, would it not be a satisfaction to think that the time had not been wasted? With the books from the schooner’s library the bigger boys could increase their knowledge at the same time as they taught the younger ones. An excellent task, which would usefully and agreeably occupy the long hours of winter!
However, before the programme was finished, another measure was adopted, under the following circumstances.
On the night of June 10th, after supper, all were in the hall, seated round the stove, when conversation turned on the chance that offered to give names to the chief geographical portions of the island.
‘That would be very useful,’ said Briant.
‘Yes, let’s have names,’ said Iverson, ‘and let us have nice names.’
‘Let us do the same as has been done by other Crusoes, real or imaginary,’ said Webb.
‘And in reality,’ said Gordon, ‘we are nothing more than—’
‘A Crusoe school!’ interrupted Service.
‘Besides,’ continued Gordon, ‘with names given to the bay, the stream, the forests, the lake, the cliff, the marshes and capes, we shall find it easier to identify them.’
The motion was consequently adopted at once, and there was nothing left to do but to think of suitable designations.
‘We have Schooner Bay, on which the yacht was wrecked,’ said Donagan, ‘and I think we might as well keep to the name we are used to.’
‘Right you are,’ said Cross.
‘And in the same way we’ll keep the name of French Den for our cave, in memory of poor Baudoin whose place we have taken.’
There was no objection to this proposal, even from Donagan, although the suggestion came from Briant.
‘And now,’ said Wilcox, ‘what shall we call the river which flows into Schooner Bay?’
‘Zealand River,’ said Baxter, ‘the name will remind us of our country.’
‘Agreed! Agreed!’
Carried unanimously.
‘And the lake?’ asked Garnett.
‘As you gave the name of Zealand to the river in memory of your country,’ said Donagan, ‘you might as well call the lake Family Lake, in memory of your relatives.’
This was also agreed to without a dissentient; and in the same way the name of Auckland Hill was given to the cliff. The cape at the end whence Briant thought he had seen the sea to the eastward was called at his suggestion False Point.
The other names adopted one after the other, were: Trap Woods, for the part of the forest where the trap had been found; Bog Wood, for the other part between Schooner Bay and the cliff; South Moor, for the marsh covering the whole of the south of the island; Dike Creek, for the brook in which they had found the causeway; Wreck Coast, for the coast on which the yacht had come ashore; Game Terrace, for the space between the banks of the river and lake where the games on the programme were to take place.
The other parts of the island were named as they were discovered, and the names bore ref
erence to what had happened there at the time of their discovery. It, however, seemed advisable to give names to the principal promontories marked on Baudoin’s map, so that in the north of the island there was a North Cape, and in the south of the island there was a South Cape, and it was agreed to give the three western capes the names of the nations represented in the colony, which meant a British Cape, an American Cape, and a French Cape.
We said colony! Yes! The word was proposed as a reminder that the occupation was no longer provisionary; and naturally it came from Gordon, who was more interested in organizing the way to live in the new territory than to find the way out of it. The boys were no longer the castaways of the schooner; they were the colonists of an island—
But of what island? The island wanted naming in its turn—
‘Here! Here! I know what to call it!’ said Costar.
‘You know, do you?’ said Donagan.
‘You are getting on, little Costar!’ said Garnett.
‘Of course you’ll call it Baby Island?’ said Service.
‘Come, don’t chaff him,’ said Briant, ‘let us hear what he has to say.’
The little fellow did not speak.
‘Speak up, Costar,’ said Briant, ‘I am sure your idea is a good one. What is it?’
‘Well,’ said Costar, ‘as we all come from Charman’s School, we ought to call it Charman Island!’
Than this they could not do better, and the name was received with general applause—which made Costar look quite important.
Charman Island! Really the name had the true geographical ring about it, and would not disgrace any atlas!
The ceremony being at an end—to the general satisfaction —the time had come to go to bed, when Briant begged to be allowed to speak.
‘My friends,’ he said, ‘now that we have named our island, is it not fitting that we should choose a chief to rule it?’
‘A chief?’ asked Donagan.
‘Yes. It seems to me that things would go better,’ continued Briant, ‘if one of us had authority over the others! What is done in every other country ought we not to do in Charman Island?’
‘Yes! A chief! Let us have a chief!’ said the little and the big together.
‘Let us have a chief,’ said Donagan, ‘but on condition that it is only for some stated time—a year, for example—’
‘And who can be re-elected,’ added Briant.
‘Agreed! Who is it to be?’ asked Donagan in an anxious tone.
And it seemed that the jealous lad had only one fear, that in spite of him the choice of his companions would fall on Briant. He was quickly undeceived.
‘Who is it to be?’ replied Briant ‘Why, the wisest of us to be sure, our friend Gordon!’
‘Yes! Yes! Hurrah for Gordon!’
Gordon would at first have refused the honour they would have bestowed on him, saying that he was better fitted to organize than to command. But he foresaw the trouble that the passions of these young people, now almost as ardent among them as if they had been men, might lead to in the future, and it appeared to him that his authority might not be without its value.
And that is how Gordon was proclaimed chief of the little colony of Charman Island.
CHAPTER XIII—WINTER QUARTERS.
THE winter season had definitely set in on Charman Island at the beginning of May. How long would it last? Five months or less if the latitude was the same as that of New Zealand. And therefore Gordon prepared for the rigours of a long winter.
The young American made careful note of his meteorological observations. He found that as the winter did not begin until May, that is two months before July, which answers to January in the northern hemisphere, it would probably last for two months afterwards, or about the middle of September, when the storms prevalent about the time of the equinox would follow on to prolong it. Consequently the young colonists might be kept at French Den till the early days of October before they were able to make a long excursion either across or round Charman Island. He had thus to draw up a programme of dally work such as would be the best for the life in the cave.
And in the first place he decided to have nothing to do with faggism such as they had been used to at Charman’s School. His whole effort was directed to accustoming the boys to the idea that they were almost men, and had to act as such. There were to be no fags at French Den, that is to say the younger boys were not to be the servants of the elders.
The library of French Den contained only a few books of science and travel, so that the bigger boys could only pursue their studies to a limited extent. But the difficulties of existence, the constant struggle to supply their wants, the necessity of exercising the judgment or imagination in the presence of eventualities of all sorts would teach them to regard life seriously, and as they were naturally designed to be the educators of their young companions, it would be their duty to be their teachers.
In order not to overburden the youngsters with work too great for their age, every opportunity would be taken of exercising their bodies as well as their minds. When the weather permitted they would be allowed out suitable clothes of course, to run and enjoy themselves in the fresh air, or work at such manual labour as their strength allowed them. In short, the scheme was drawn up on the four main principles which form the basis of English education: —
‘If you are frightened at a thing, do it.’
‘Never lose a chance of doing your very best.’
‘Never fear fatigue, for nothing you can do is useless.’
‘A healthy body means a healthy mind.’
And this is what was agreed upon after discussion at a general meeting of the boys.
For two hours every morning, and two hours every evening, all would work in the hall. Taking it in turns, Briant, Donagan, Cross, and Baxter, of the fifth form, and Wilcox and Webb of the fourth, would hold classes for their schoolfellows of the third, second, and first forms.
They would teach them mathematics, geography, history, supplementing the knowledge they had acquired at school by that obtained from the books in the library. This would prevent their forgetting what they already knew. Twice a week, on Sunday and Thursday, there would be a debate on some subject of science, or history, or actual occurrence, in which all would take part.
Gordon, as chief of the colony, would see that the programme was carried out without modification, unless something occurred that rendered it impossible.
To begin with, an arrangement was made regarding the duration of time. They had the yacht’s almanac, but each day had to be regularly run through, and they had watches, but it was necessary for them to be regularly wound up and adjusted so as to keep exact time. Two of the bigger boys were entrusted with this duty. Wilcox had charge of the watches. Baxter had charge of the almanac. And to Webb fell the duty of daily recording the readings of the barometer and thermometer.
The next thing done was to start a log of all that happened during their stay on Charman Island. Baxter volunteered for this, and thanks to him the ‘Journal of French Den’ was written up with minute exactitude.
A work of no less importance, and which could be no longer delayed, was the washing of the linen, for which there was no scarcity of soap; and this was lucky considering the mess into which the youngsters got when they played on the terrace or fished in the stream. In vain Gordon cautioned them, and growled at them, and threatened to punish them: dirty they would get in spite of all he could do. There was no doubt as to who would do the washing. Moko knew all about it; but as he could not manage it all, the bigger boys had to assist him, under his directions.
The day after this programme had been agreed upon was Sunday, and the way in which that day is kept in England and America is well known. In the morning the young colonists went out for a walk along the banks of Family Lake. But as it was extremely cold the boys, after an outing of a couple of hours, were glad to get back to their warm hall and a hot dinner in the store-room, carefully prepared by the clever master cook of
French Den. In the evening there was a concert, in which Garnett’s accordion took the place of orchestra, and the singing, more or less out of tune, was of the true Anglo-Saxon type: The only boy with a really musical voice was Jack, but in his present inexplicable humour he would take no part in his companions’ occupations, and refused to sing when they asked him.
The day, which had begun with a short address by ‘the Reverend Gordon,’ as Service called him, ended with a few minutes’ prayer in the hall: and by ten o’clock all the boys were asleep under the protection of Fan, to whom they could trust in the event of any suspicious approach.
During June the cold gradually increased. Webb reported that the barometer was steady at just above twenty-seven inches, and the thermometer was from eighteen to twenty degrees below freezing. As soon as the wind, which blew from the south, shifted towards the west the temperature rose a little, and the surroundings of French Den were covered with a deep snow. The snow was not unwelcome, as it afforded an opportunity for a grand snowballing match, in which a few of the boys suffered severely, notably Jack, who stood looking on. A ball thrown furiously by Cross missed its mark and hit him hard enough to make him cry.
‘I did not do it on purpose,’ said Cross, with the usual excuse of the clumsy.
‘Perhaps not,’ said Briant, who had noticed his brother’s cry, ‘but you shouldn’t throw so hard.’
‘Well, why did he get in the way?’ asked Cross. ‘Why isn’t he playing?’
‘What a fuss about a little bruise,’ said Donagan.
‘Perhaps it is not very serious,’ answered Briant, seeing that Donagan wished to interfere in the matter; ‘but I’ll ask Cross not to do it again.’
‘How can he manage that?’ asked Donagan jeeringly, ‘if he didn’t do it on purpose?’
‘I don’t know what business it is of yours, Donagan,’ said Briant; ‘it only concerns Cross and me—’
‘And it concerns me too, Briant, if that is the tone you take,’ said Donagan.
‘As you please—and when you please,’ replied Briant crossing his arms.
