Adrift in the Pacific-Two Years Holiday

by Jules Verne

  ‘We must go to their assistance,’ said Briant; ‘and let them know before to-morrow.’

  ‘And bring them back to French Den,’ added Gordon. ‘More than ever it is necessary for us to be united, so as to concert measures against an attack.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Briant; ‘and as it is necessary they should come back, they will come back! I will go after them.’

  ‘You, Briant!’

  ‘Yes, I, Gordon!’

  ‘And how?’

  ‘I’ll go in the yawl with Moko. In a few hours we can cross the lake and go down East River, as we did before. There is every chance we shall find Donagan at its mouth.’

  ‘When will you go?’

  ‘This evening,’ said Briant, ‘as soon as the darkness allows us to get across without being seen.’

  ‘May I go with you?’ asked Jack.

  ‘No,’ said Briant ‘It is imperative that we all come back in the boat, and we shall not have room for six.’

  ‘That is agreed, then?’ asked Gordon.

  ‘That is agreed.’

  It was in fact the best thing to do, not only for the sake of Donagan and his companions, but also for the rest. Four boys more, and those not the weakest of the party, was a reinforcement not to be despised. And there was not an hour to lose if they were all to be back at French Den within twenty-four hours.

  There was now no talk of letting up the kite. That would be most imprudent. It would be a signal, not to passing ships, —if any were passing—but to Walston and his accomplices. Briant even thought it best that the mast on Auckland Hill should be lowered.

  Until evening came the boys remained in the hall, where Kate heard the story of their adventures. She no longer thought of herself, but of those around her. If they were to remain on Charman Island she would be their devoted servant, —she would take care of them like a mother. And already to the little ones, Dole and Costar, she had given the endearing name of ‘papooses,’ applied to babies in the western states of America.

  Service, in the spirit of his favourite romances, had already proposed to call her Mrs. Friday, for it was on a Friday that Kate had arrived at French Den. And he had added, when he made the suggestion, —

  ‘These scoundrels are like Crusoe’s savages. There is always a time when the savages arrive, just as the time comes when they are beaten.’

  At eight o’clock the preparations for departure were complete. Moko, whom no danger could frighten, was delighted at having to accompany Briant. The two embarked, taking with them a few provisions and a revolver and cutlass each. After bidding farewell to their comrades, who did not see them depart without a feeling of sorrow, they were soon off out of sight in the shadow on Family Lake. When the sun set a gentle breeze had sprung up from the north, which, if it lasted, would suit the yawl both outwards and homewards.

  The night was dark—a fortunate thing for Briant, who did not wish to be seen. Setting their course by the compass, they could reach the opposite shore, and then work up it or down it until they came to the mouth of the river.

  Briant and Moko kept a good look-out ahead when they feared they should see some fire which would proclaim the presence of Walston and his companions, for Donagan was almost sure to be camped on the sea-shore.

  In two hours the six miles had been sailed. The breeze had freshened, but the yawl was none the worse for it. She made the landfall close to where she had done so the first time, and about half a mile from where the stream ran out This half-mile took some time to accomplish, for the wind was dead ahead, and the oars had to be used. Everything seemed quiet under the trees; not a yelp or a growl was heard in the forest and not the sign of a fire was seen under the black masses of foliage.

  About half-past ten Briant who was in the stern of the boat touched Moko’s arm. A few hundred feet away from East River a half-extinguished fire shed its expiring light through the darkness. Who was camped there? Walston or Donagan? It was necessary to know before entering the stream.

  ‘Put me ashore,’ said Briant.

  ‘Shall I not come with you?’ asked the negro in a whisper.

  ‘No! It is better I should go alone, there is less chance of my being seen.’

  The yawl ran alongside the bank, and Briant jumped ashore, after telling Moko to wait for him. He had his cutlass in his hand, and in his belt was the revolver, which he had resolved not to use except in the last extremity. He climbed the bank and glided under the trees.

  Suddenly he stopped. About twenty yards away, in the half-light of the fire, he saw a shadow crouching in the grass. Immediately a formidable grunt was heard, and a dark mass leapt in front of him.

  It was a jaguar of large size. Immediately there was a shout of—

  ‘Help! Help!’

  Briant recognized Donagan’s voice. It was Donagan, in fact, and his companions were asleep in camp near the river.

  Knocked over by the jaguar, Donagan was struggling, unable to use his gun.

  Wilcox, awakened by the shout jumped up, and brought his gun to the shoulder, ready to fire.

  ‘Don’t fire! Don’t fire!’ cried Briant. And before Wilcox could see him, he had sprung at the wild beast, which turned against him and left Donagan free to get up. Luckily, Briant was able to step aside, and give it a thrust with his cutlass. The jaguar was mortally wounded and rolled on to the ground, as Webb and Cross rushed to Donagan’s assistance.

  But the victory might have cost Briant dear, for his shoulder was ripped by the animal’s claws, and began to bleed profusely.

  ‘How did you come here?’ exclaimed Wilcox.

  ‘That you will know soon!’ said Briant ‘But come with me! Come!’

  ‘Not till I have thanked you, Briant!’ said Donagan. ‘You have saved my life! ‘

  ‘I only did what you would have done in my place,’ replied Briant; ‘but don’t say any more about that. Come with me! ‘

  Briant’s wound, however, was noticed. Although it was not a serious one, it had to be bound up tightly with a handkerchief, and while Wilcox was doing this Donagan was told what had taken place.

  And so these men they had taken for corpses were alive! They were wandering about the island! They were scoundrels stained with murder! A woman had been wrecked with them in the boat; and this woman was now at French Den! There was now no safety on Charman Island! That was why Briant had told Wilcox not to fire at the jaguar for fear the report would be heard, and that was why Briant had trusted only to the cutlass!

  ‘Ah, Briant, you are a better fellow than I am!’ said Donagan with deep emotion.

  ‘No, Donagan, said Briant; ‘but now I hold your hand I will not let it go till you have promised to come back with me.’

  ‘Yes, I must come,’ said Donagan. ‘You can trust me. Henceforth I shall be the first to obey orders! To-morrow—at daybreak we will be off.’

  ‘No,’ said Briant, ‘we must start at once, without the risk of being seen.’

  ‘And how?’ asked Cross.

  ‘Moko is here in the yawl. We were going down the river when I saw the light of your fire.’

  ‘And you came just in time to save me,’ said Donagan.

  ‘And to bring you back to French Den!’

  And now why was Donagan here instead of at the mouth of East River?

  He had left Severn Reefs and returned to Bear Rock Harbour on the evening of the i6th, and next morning, as arranged, he had come up the left bank of East River to the lake, where he had camped on his road to French Den.

  A few minutes afterwards Briant and his companions had taken their places in the yawl, and as she was rather small for six, she had to be carefully managed.

  But the wind was favourable, and Moko handled her so well that the voyage was accomplished without accident.

  Great was the joy of Gordon and the rest when they landed about four o’clock in the morning. Although danger threatened, the boys were all united at French Den to meet it.

  CHAPTER VIII—ALL TOGETHER.

&
nbsp; THE colony was again complete, and concord reigned at French Den—concord that was to be untroubled for the future. The separation of two or three days had borne its fruit. More than once already Donagan, without saying anything to his comrades, had been led to think how stupid had been his obstinacy; and Wilcox, Cross, and Webb, had had similar thoughts. After what Briant had done, Donagan’s better nature had triumphed, and the change was to be lasting.

  But French Den was in serious danger. It was exposed to the attack of these seven well-armed scoundrels; obviously, Walston’s best course was to leave the island as soon as he could; but if he came to suspect the existence of a little colony well provided with all that he wanted, he would not refrain from an attack in which he had almost every chance of success. The boys would be obliged to be most careful not to go far from Zealand River or the lake so long as he was in the island.

  Donagan was asked if he had seen any trace of the sailors on his journey back to Bear Rock.

  ‘No,’ said he. ‘But when we went back we did not go the same way as at first.’

  ‘But we are sure that Walston went off to the eastward,’ said Gordon.

  ‘Agreed,’ answered Donagan, ‘but he went along the shore, while we came through Beech Forest. If you look at the map you will see there is a very bold curve just above Deception Bay, and there is a good stretch of country there where the men could take refuge without going too far away from their boat. But perhaps Kate can tell us whereabouts Charman Island is?

  Kate had already been asked by Gordon and Briant, and could tell them nothing. After the burning of the Severn, Mr. Evans had laid the course of the boat straight for the American continent and consequently Charman Island could not be very far away from it. But the name of the island on which he had been cast he had never mentioned during the storm. The numerous archipelagoes on the coast must be within a short distance, and there were very plausible reasons for Walston to try and reach them, and in the meantime to stay on the eastern shore. If he could only get his boat into a seaworthy state, he would not have much trouble in reaching the South American coast.

  ‘Unless,’ said Briant, ‘he comes to the mouth of East River, and finding there traces of your camp, Donagan, resolves to search further inland.’

  ‘But what traces?’ replied Donagan. ‘A few cinders! what would that tell him? that the island is inhabited! and if so, the scoundrels would only think of hiding themselves.‘

  ‘Exactly,’ said Briant. ‘Until they discovered that the population of the island consisted of a parcel of boys. We must do nothing to let him know who we are! And that reminds me, Donagan, did you fire your gun on your journey back to Deception Bay.’

  ‘No; and that is rather strange,’ said Donagan, smiling. ‘For I am rather inclined to burn too much powder. When we left the shore we had a good supply of game, and no shooting took place to reveal our presence. Last night Wilcox was going to fire at the jaguar, but lucidly you arrived in time and saved my life at the risk of your own.’

  ‘You need say no more about that, Donagan,’ said Briant ‘But don’t let us have another gun fired; let us keep away from Trap Woods, and let us live on our reserves.’

  We need only just mention that since his arrival at French Den Briant had had everything necessary done to his wound, and that it had healed in a few days. There remained a certain amount of discomfort in the arm, but that soon disappeared.

  October was near its end, and Walston had not been seen in the neighbourhood of Zealand River. Had he repaired his boat and left the island? It was not impossible. He had an axe—as Kate remembered—and could make use of those large knives which sailors always have in their pockets; and wood there was in abundance near Severn Reefs. But in ignorance of what he had done, the every-day life at French Den had been entirely changed. There were no more distant excursions, except once when Baxter and Donagan went off to the crest of Auckland Hill and lowered the flag-staff.

  From this elevated point Donagan examined through his glass all the masses of verdure to the eastward. And although he could see right away to the sea, not a trace of smoke rose to indicate that Walston and his companions were encamped on the island. Neither in that direction nor in the direction of Schooner Bay did Donagan see anything suspicious.

  Now that all expeditions were forbidden and the guns lay Idle, the sportsmen of the colony had to give up their favourite amusement. Fortunately the nets and snares set about French Den, yielded game in sufficient quantity, and the tinamous and ostriches in the poultry-yard had multiplied so much that Service and Garnett were obliged to sacrifice a good many of them. As they had gathered a large crop of the leaves of the tea-tree, and a good deal of the maple syrup that changes so easily into sugar, there was no necessity to go to Dike Creek to renew the stock of provisions. And even if the winter came before the boys recovered their liberty, they were sufficiently provided with oil for their lamps, and with preserved provisions for their larder. All they had to do was to get some more wood, and bring it in from Bog Woods along the bank of the river.

  It was at this time that a new discovery was made, adding to the comfort of French Den. It was not made by Gordon, although he was a good botanist, but to Kate the whole credit belonged. On the edge of Bog Woods there were a certain number of trees, measuring from fifty to sixty feet high. If the axe had spared them, it was because their wood was very stringy, and promised to be but poor fuel for the fires in the hall and enclosure. The leaves were of oblong form, alternating with knots on the branches and terminated by a leathery point.

  The first time Kate saw one of these trees-—it was the 25th of October—she exclaimed,—‘Oh! why there’s a cow-tree!’ Dole and Costar, who were with her, burst into a shout of laughter.

  ‘What is a cow-tree?’ asked one.

  ‘Do the cows eat it?’ asked the other.

  ‘No, papooses, no,’ said Kate. ‘It is so called because it yields milk, and better milk than your vicugna’s.’

  When she returned to French Den, Kate told Gordon of her discovery. Gordon at once called Service, and with him and Kate went to Bog Woods. After examining the tree Gordon thought it might be one of those galactendrons of which there are so many in the forests of North America, and he was not mistaken.

  It was a valuable discovery. All that was needful was to make an incision in the bark, and a milky sap would flow, having the taste and nutritious properties of the milk of the cow. If left to stand, it would coagulate and form excellent cheese, and at the same time it would yield very pore wax, not unlike beeswax, of which capital candles could be made.

  ‘Well,’ said Service, ‘if it is a cow-tree or a tree-cow, we may as well milk it.’

  And unknown to himself he used the very same expression as the Indians, for they ‘milk the tree.’

  Gordon made a gash in the bark of the galactendron, and out flowed the sap; and Kate caught two good pints of it in a cup she had brought with her.

  It is a whitish liquor, appetising enough to look at and comprising the same elements as cow’s milk. At the same time it is more nourishing, thicker, and has a more agreeable savour. The cup was empty in a minute at French Den, and Costar smeared his mouth all round as if he were a young cat. At the thought of all he could do with this new substance, Moko did not conceal his satisfaction. He would have no trouble; he had hardly any distance to go to his herd of galactendrons to get his vegetable milk.

  In short—and we need hardly repeat it—Charman Island would supply the wants of a large colony. The boys could certainly live there for a long time; and the arrival of Kate amongst them to look after them like a mother, and she quite inspired them with maternal affection, had done much to make their existence more comfortable.

  Why had the former security been troubled? What discoveries Briant and his comrades would have made in those unknown parts of the east which they now had to consider as closed to them! Would they ever be able to resume their excursions, having nothing to fear but wild beasts, far les
s dangerous than the wild beasts in human form, against whom they had to be on their guard night and day?

  November had begun, and there was still no trace of suspicious characters round French Den. Briant even doubted if the survivors of the Severn were still on the island. But had not Donagan seen with his own eyes that the boat was in a bad way, with her broken mast tattered sails, and shattered side? It is true—and Mr. Evans would know this—if Charman Island had been, near a continent or archipelago, the boat might have been sufficiently put to rights and gone to sea. It was possible for Walston to have left the island. Had he done so? That would have to be discovered before the usual round of life was resumed.

  Often Briant had thought of exploring the district on the east of Family Lake. Donagan, Baxter, and Wilcox would have been only too glad to go with him. But to run the risk of falling into Walston’s power, and thereby discover to him how little formidable were the adversaries with whom he had to do, would have had the most serious consequences. And so Gordon, whose advice was always listened to, persuaded Briant not to venture into Beech Forest.

  Kate then made a proposition, which would avoid this danger of discovery. One evening, when all the boys were united in the hall, she asked Briant if he would allow her to leave them in the morning.

  ‘Leave us, Kate!’ said Briant.

  ‘Yes! You cannot remain much longer in this uncertainty as to whether Walston is still on the island, and I volunteer to go to the place where the storm left me, and find out if the boat is still there. If it is there, Walston has not gone away; if it is not there you need have no further fear of him.’

  ‘That,’ said Donagan, ‘is what Briant and Baxter and Wilcox and I proposed to do ourselves.’

  ‘True, Mr. Donagan,’ said Kate. ‘But what is dangerous for you has no danger for me.’

  ‘But, Kate,’ said Gordon, ‘if you fall into Walston’s hands—’

  ‘Well,’ interrupted Kate, ‘I shall be where I was before I ran away. That is all!’