Adrift in the Pacific-Two Years Holiday

by Jules Verne

  ‘Now, Donagan! It is your turn,’ said Webb. ‘Aim straight it is our last chance.’

  ‘Don’t get excited,’ replied Donagan.

  And with one foot in front of the other he stood, the right hand holding the quoit, the body bent forward, and in such a position as to give him the best chance of a good throw. His whole soul was in the game, his teeth were clenched, his cheeks were pale, his eyes glowed beneath the knitted brows. After a careful look, he threw the quoit straight and true—a long, low throw that only just missed ringing the pin, and struck it just at the side.

  ‘It’s a pity you missed,’ said Cross, ‘but it’s the best throw yet.

  ‘And the game is ours,’ added Wilcox, ‘unless Briant manages to drop on to the pin. Look out!’

  Briant took up his position, moving the quoit backwards and forwards once or twice, and aimed so well that, rising high in curve, it dropped right on to the pin.

  ‘A ringer!’ shouted Service triumphantly. ‘That makes us seven, and it is our game.’

  ‘No!’ said Donagan, stepping forward, ‘the game is not yours.’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Baxter.

  ‘Because Briant cheated.’

  ‘Cheated!’ said Briant.

  ‘Yes! Cheated!’ said Donagan. ‘Briant was over the mark. He stepped in two feet.’

  ‘That he didn’t,’ said Service.

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ said Briant ‘And even if I did, it was a mistake, and I will not stand Donagan calling me a cheat!’

  ‘Indeed! You won’t stand it!’ said Donagan.

  ‘No, I will not!’ replied Briant, getting very angry. ‘And first I’ll prove that my feet were on the line.’

  ‘You can’t!’ said Webb and Cross.

  ‘Well,’ said Briant, ‘there are my footmarks on the sand! And as Donagan must have known that, I tell him he’s a liar!’

  ‘A liar, am I?’ said Donagan, stepping quietly towards him, jacket off, shirt sleeves tucked up, all ready and anxious for a fight.

  Briant had recovered his temper, and stood quietly watching him as if he were ashamed to be the first to fight one of his comrades, and set an evil example to the colony.

  ‘You were wrong to insult me, Donagan,’ he said, ‘and you are wrong now to challenge me.’

  ‘Indeed!’ said Donagan, in a tone of the profoundest contempt ‘It is always wrong to challenge those who are afraid to defend themselves.’

  ‘I! afraid!’

  ‘Yes. You are a coward, and you know it!’

  Again Briant forgot himself for a moment and, clenching his fists, squared up to Donagan; but just then Gordon, who had been fetched by Dole, stepped into the ring.

  ‘Briant! Donagan!’ he said.

  ‘He called me a liar,’ said Donagan.

  ‘He called me a cheat and a coward,’ said Briant.

  ‘Donagan,’ said Gordon, ‘I know what sort of a fellow Briant is! He is not the cause of this quarrel! It was you that began it.’

  ‘Indeed!’ said Donagan. ‘And I know what sort of a fellow you are! Always ready to take sides against me!’

  ‘Yes, when you deserve it!’ said Gordon.

  ‘All right’ said Donagan. ‘But whether I began it or Briant began it, if Briant refuses to fight, he is a coward.’

  ‘And you, Donagan,’ said Gordon, ‘are a mischievous, bad-tempered fellow, for ever setting a bad example to the others. Placed as we are here, is it right that one should always be trying to cause disunion amongst us? Surely we ought all to work together.’

  ‘Briant,’ said Donagan, ‘thank Gordon for his sermon; and now come on.’

  ‘Not in the least’ said Gordon. ‘I am chief of the colony, and I am not going to stand this sort of thing! Briant go into the store-room. And you, Donagan, go where you like, but don’t come back till you have sense enough to see that in blaming you I only did my duty!’

  ‘Three cheers for Gordon,’ said the boys, all except Webb, Wilcox, and Cross, ‘and three cheers for Briant!’ The only thing to be done was to obey. Briant went into the hall, and in the evening when Donagan returned it was evident that he was content for the time to say no more about the matter. But all the same he cherished a fierce rancour within him, and had no intention of forgetting the lesson which Gordon had given him.

  But nothing further was said, and the work of preparing for the winter went on in peace. During the first week in May the cold was keen enough for Gordon to give orders for the stoves to be lighted up in the cave, and kept going night and day; and soon afterwards it became necessary to warm the shed of the enclosure, which duty fell to Garnett and Service.

  At the same time the birds began to depart in flocks. Whither did they go? Evidently to the northern countries of the Pacific, or the American continent, where the climate was milder than that of Charman Island.

  Among these birds the chief were the swallows, those marvellous migrants flying such enormous distances. In his constant endeavour to avail himself of every means to leave the island, it occurred to Briant to use these birds as messengers. Nothing was easier than to catch a few dozens of these birds, for they had built inside the storeroom, and to their necks was tied a little linen bag, containing a letter announcing the wreck on Charman Island, with a request for the news to be sent on at once to Auckland. Then the swallows were released, and with much emotion the boys saw them depart It was a very slender chance of safety, but it was a chance, and Briant was quite right in not neglecting it.

  The snow came on the 25th of May, a few days earlier than the preceding year. Was the winter to be earlier and severer than before? It was to be feared so. Luckily warmth, light and food were assured for many months. The winter clothing had been given out a few weeks before; and Gordon’s hygienic measures were rigorously enforced.

  During this time French Den became the scene of an agitation which caused a good deal of excitement among the youngsters. The year for which Gordon had been elected Chief of Charman Island expired on the 10th of June. And in consequence of this there began a series of conferences, consultations, and even intrigues that much agitated this little world. Gordon, as we have said, was quite indifferent to what was going on; and Briant, being of French descent, considered that his own chance was hopeless in a colony where English were in a majority. But Donagan was very anxious about the election, and with his more than ordinary cleverness, and his courage that nobody doubted, he would have had an excellent chance of election had he not been so haughty, domineering, and envious. He had made up his mind to be Gordon’s successor, although his vanity prevented him from canvassing for votes, and he pretended to be quite unconcerned in the matter. But what he did not do openly, his friends did for him in secret, and Wilcox, Wobb, and Cross were untiring in their efforts at persuading the little ones.

  The 10th of June arrived.

  In the afternoon the election took place. Each boy had to write on a slip of paper the name of the candidate for whom he intended to vote. The majority of votes would decide the election. As the constituency comprised only fourteen members—for Moko as a negro did not vote —eight votes would carry the election.

  At two o’clock Gordon opened the poll, and the voting was conducted with great gravity as beseemed such a serious ceremony. When the votes were counted, the following was the result: —

  Briant

  8

  Donagan

  3

  Gordon

  1

  Neither Gordon nor Donagan had voted, and Briant had voted for Gordon.

  When the poll was declared, Donagan could not restrain his deep irritation and disgust.

  Briant was surprised at receiving the majority of votes, and was on the point of declining to serve, but his eyes happened to rest on Jack, and an idea occurred to him, so that he said, —

  ‘I thank you, my friends, and I accept the position you have offered me.’

  And at sunset Briant began his year of office as Chief of Charman Island.

&nb
sp; CHAPTER IV—A SKATING ADVENTURE.

  BRIANT’S election was chiefly owing to his constant endeavours to be of use, and the never-failing courage of which he had given so many proofs. From the day when he had, so to speak, taken the command of the schooner during her voyage from New Zealand he had never recoiled from danger or trouble. Although he was of a different nationality, all liked him, both great and little, and especially the latter, who had voted for him unanimously. Donagan, Cross, Wilcox, and Webb were alone in refusing to recognise Briant’s good qualities, but, at heart, they were well aware that they were unjust to the most deserving of their companions.

  Gordon was not sparing of his congratulations to Briant, although he foresaw that the choice would widen the division that already existed, and he feared that Donagan and his companions would take some step that would leave cause to regret. But he was of too just a disposition not to approve of the choice that had been made, and he was very glad to have no more to do than to keep the accounts of French Den.

  It was obvious, however, that Donagan and his three friends had resolved not to put up with the existing state of things, although Briant had no intention of giving them an excuse for violence.

  Jack was quite surprised when his brother accepted his election.

  ‘Do you want it, then?’ asked he.

  ‘Yes,’ said Briant in a low voice. ‘Yes, so that we can do more than we have done to atone for the mistake you made.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jack, ‘and do not spare me.’

  Next day there recommenced the dreary course of this existence which the long winter days were to make so monotonous.

  And before the cold forbade an excursion to the bay, Briant did a very useful thing. The flagstaff, as we know, had been erected on one of the highest crests of Auckland Hill. Of the flag that had been hoisted on it only a few strips now remained, the rest having been torn and carried away by the wind. To replace it Baxter, at Briant’s suggestion, made a sort of balloon, —a basket made of the pliant rushes that grew in the marsh; this was strong enough to resist any wind, for, being open, the wind would pass through it. And on the 17th of June an expedition was made to the bay, and the tattered ensign was hauled down and replaced by this ball-signal, which could be seen for many miles round.

  The time was soon coming when Briant and his comrades would be imprisoned in French Den. The thermometer slowly fell, the fall being continuous, and indicating a long spell of extreme cold.

  Briant brought the yawl ashore and beached her in an angle of the cliff, covering her with a thick tarpaulin, so that she should not dry and fall to pieces. Then Baxter and Wilcox stretched their nets near the enclosure, and dug new pits in Trap Woods; and nets were also fixed along the left bank of Zealand River, so as to catch in their meshes whatever sea-birds the breezes blew against them. Meanwhile, Donagan and two or three of his companions, mounted on their stilts, made excursions to South Moors, and never returned with empty bags, although Briant was as economical with his ammunition as Gordon had been.

  During the first week of July the river began to freeze. A few icebergs, formed in Family Lake, floated down with the current in a short time they became heaped together a little below French Den, and formed an ice-pack above which the smooth water soon bore a thick coat of ice. The cold continued, and the surface of the lake was frozen, and after a short spell of squalls which checked the freezing somewhat, the wind shifted round to the southwest, the sky cleared, and the temperature sunk below zero.

  The last year’s programme of work was adopted. Briant kept his position without any abuse of authority. The boys obeyed him cheerfully, and Gordon helped much by setting an example of obedience. Donagan and his partisans showed no signs of actual insubordination. They occupied themselves in their daily task of looking to their traps and nets and snares, and kept much to themselves, talking together in a low voice, and rarely joining in the general conversation. Were they engaged in some plot? That would be seen in time. But no complaint could at present be made of them, and Briant had no cause to interfere. He continued to treat them with justice, and took the more difficult and unpleasant tasks on himself and his brother, who now rivalled him in zeal. Gordon soon noticed the change that was taking place in Jack’s character, and Moko saw with pleasure that, since his explanation with his brother, the little fellow took part more frequently in the games of his comrades.

  The long hours that the cold obliged them to spend in the cave were occupied in study. Jenkins, Iverson, Dole, and Costar got on wonderfully. In teaching them the bigger boys could not help teaching themselves. During the long evenings, readings were made from books of travel, which Service, for one, did not find quite as entertaining as Robinson Crusoe. Frequently Garrett’s accordeon would give forth its exasperating harmonies, as the unhappy melomaniac worked its bellows to the verge of ruin. And the boys would sing songs, and always manage to have a chorus. And then, the concert ended, all would go to bed.

  Briant was still full of his thoughts of return to New Zealand, therein differing from Gordon, who only concerned himself with completing the organization of the colony on Charman Island. Briant’s term of office was to be marked by the attempts which were to be made to leave the island. Often did he think of the whitish patch he had seen in the offing of Deception Bay. Could it belong to some land near the island? If so, would it be possible to build a boat and reach that land? But when Briant spoke of this to Baxter, Baxter only shook his head, for he saw such an undertaking to be out of their power.

  ‘Ah!’ Briant would say. ‘Why are we only children, why are we not men?’

  And that was his greatest sorrow.

  During the winter nights there were several alarms at French Den. Fan would break out at times into loud barking, as the packs of wild beasts—chiefly jackals—would come prowling round the enclosure. And then Donagan and the others would run out and throw fire, brands into the midst of the pack, and away would go the jackals in flight. Two or three times a few couples of jaguars and cougars put in an appearance, to be shot at and driven off. And, in short, the enclosure was only kept safe by constant watchfulness.

  On the 24th of July, Moko had an opportunity of displaying his culinary talent on a new victim. Wilcox and Baxter, who was always glad to help him, were not content with devising snares and traps for birds and beasts of small size. By bending down the saplings in Trap Woods, and fitting them with running nooses, they had prepared for the capture of animals of much larger growth. Usually such things are placed in the forest in the track of the deer, but it was not a deer that was caught on this occasion. It was a magnificent flamingo that had got its head into the noose, and strove in vain to slip out of it. When Wilcox visited the place in the morning he found the bird already strangled, and dangling from the tree, which, released by the trigger, had sprung up and drawn the knot tight round the prisoner’s throat The flamingo, stuffed with aromatic herbs, and done to a turn, was pronounced excellent. On the wings and thighs there was enough meat for all, and for every one there was a little bit of the tongue, than which no greater dainty is found beneath the skies.

  In the first fortnight of August there were four days of extreme cold. Briant saw with apprehension the thermometer drop to register thirty-four degrees of frost. The clearness of the air was wonderful, and, as always happens with these periods of low temperature, there was not a breath of wind. While this lasted no one could go out of French Den without being instantly chilled to the marrow, and the youngsters were forbidden to leave the cave. The elder boys only went out when obliged to keep up the fires in the stable and yard.

  But this cold did not last long. On the 6th of August the wind went back to the west and a stormy week followed, during which the temperature slowly rose to within seven degrees below freezing. The last fortnight of August was fairly pleasant Briant resumed his work out of doors, though there could be no fishing, owing to a thick sheet of ice covering the waters of the stream and lake. Many visits were paid to the nets
along the river-bank where much game from the opposite marshes was caught and kept the larder well supplied. And the enclosure had an increase in its tenants, there were broods of young ostriches and guinea fowl, and the vicugna produced a litter of five, of which Service and Garnett took every care.

  As the. state of the ice was favourable, Briant resolved to have a skating party, and, with wooden soles and iron blades, Baxter contrived to make several pairs of skates that answered every purpose. At eleven o’clock on the 25th of August Briant, Gordon, Donagan, Webb, Cross, Wilcox, Baxter, Garnett, Service, Jenkins, and Jack, leaving Iverson, Dole, and Costar in charge of Moko and Fan, set out from French Den in search of a wide stretch of ice suitable for skating purposes, all having breakfasted before starting, and intending to return to the cave before dinner.

  They had to follow the bank for nearly three miles before they found a place that answered their requirements, the lake near French Den being encumbered with the hummocks piled up at the mouth of the river; but when opposite Trap Woods they reached a magnificent field of ice stretching right away out of sight to the eastward, and affording a superb arena for quite a skating army.

  Donagan and Cross had, of course, taken their guns with them, so as to be ready for any shooting that might turn up. Briant and Gordon, who did not care for skating over much, had come to keep the youngsters out of danger; and Briant had brought with him a horn that might come in useful to call them home.

  The best skaters in the colony were Donagan, Cross, and Jack, particularly the last, who was as remarkable for the speed with which he moved as he was for the precision with which he traced the most complicated curves.

  Before giving the signal to be off, Briant had called his comrades together, and made them a speech, —