by Jules Verne
Various signs went to show that beyond the cape the wind from the west would make itself felt. The sea on this side was vivid green a couple of miles from the shore. Sometimes little waves, deploying in white lines, gleamed with bright reflections. The voyage proceeded gaily, and it was scarcely half past eight when the Elizabeth was athwart the cape.
The sails were trimmed again and the little vessel put on a faster pace, lightly rocked by a sea that distressed no one on board.
As the breeze was plainly settled, M. Zermatt suggested that they should go up again towards the northeast, so as to go round the mass of rocks on which the Landlord had been broken.
"We can do it easily," said Mr. Wolston, "and for my own part I should very much like to see the reef onto which the storm threw you, so far off the course from the Cape of Good Hope to Batavia."
"A wreck that cost many lives," said Mme. Zermatt, whose face clouded at the memory. "My husband, my children, and myself were all who escaped death."
"So it has never been known whether any of the crew was picked up at sea or found refuge on any neighbouring land?" Mr. Wolston enquired.
"Never," M. Zermatt answered, "according to what Lieutenant Littlestone declared; and for a long time the Landlord was supposed to have been lost with all hands."
"As for that," Ernest observed, "it must be pointed out that the crew of the Dorcas, on which Jenny took her passage, had better luck than ours had, since the boatswain and two sailors were taken to Sydney."
"That is true," M. Zermatt replied. "But can we be positive that no survivors from the Landlord succeeded in finding a refuge on some one of these shores in the Indian Ocean, and even that after all these years they are not there still, as we are in New Switzerland?"
"There is nothing impossible in that," Ernest declared, "for our island is only seven or eight hundred miles from Australia. As the west coast of Australia is seldom visited by European ships the shipwrecked people might have had no opportunity of being rescued from the natives."
"The conclusion to be drawn from it all," said Mr. Wolston, "is that these seas are dangerous and that storms are frequent here. In only a few years there have been the loss of the Landlord and the loss of the Dorcas."
"Quite so," replied Ernest. "But let us remember that at the time those wrecks occurred, the position of our island was not marked on the charts, and it is not surprising that several ships were lost upon the reefs by which it is surrounded. But very soon now its bearings will be on record as exactly as those of the other islands of the Indian Ocean."
"The more's the pity 1" cried Jack. "Yes: the more's the pity, since New Switzerland will now become known."
The Elizabeth was manoeuvring by this time off the west side of the reef, and as she had been obliged to beat up against the wind in order to round the farthest rocks she now had only to sail before the wind in this direction.
M. Zermatt pointed out to Mr. Wolston on the opposite side of the reef the narrow gap into which an enormous wave had thrust the Landlord. The breach made in the timbers of the ship, first with the axe and then by an explosion, had permitted the removal of the things that she contained, prior to the time when a final explosion by gunpowder had accomplished her total destruction.
Of the ruined fragments of the ship, nothing remained upon the reef, the tide having washed everything to the shore, things which could float of themselves and also those which had previously been made floatable by means of empty casks, such as boilers, pieces of iron, copper and lead, and the four-pounder cannon, two of which were now on Shark's Island, and the rest in the battery at Rock Castle.
As they skirted the edge of the rocks, the party on the pinnace tried to see if there were any pieces of wreckage visible beneath the clear and calm water. Two and a half years previously Fritz, when he had gone in his canoe on a trip to Pearl Bay, had been able to discern at the bottom of the sea a number of large cannon, gun-carriages, cannon balls, pieces of iron, and fragments of the keel and capstan, which it would have required a diving-bell to raise. Even if he had had the opportunity of employing such a contrivance, however, M. Zermatt would not have been much better off. Now, none of these things was visible on the bottom. A thick carpet of sand mixed with long sea-weeds covered the last remnants of the Landlord.
After making the round of the reef, the Elizabeth bore away obliquely towards the south, in such a way as to draw close to Cape East. M. Zermatt steered a careful course, for one point ran out to sea surrounded by reefs.
Three-quarters of an hour later, after passing this point, which in all probability marked the eastern extremity of New Switzerland, the pinnace was able to follow the line of the coast for a mile and more, getting the wind from the north-west over land.
While sailing thus, M. Zermatt could not fail to observe once more how deserted an appearance the eastern coast of the island presented. There was not a tree upon the cliffs, not a trace of vegetation at their foot, not a stream trickling among the naked and deserted beaches. Nothing but rocks calcined by the sun. What a contrast to the verdant shores of Deliverance Bay and their extension onwards as far as False Hope Point!
M. Zermatt spoke:
"If after the wreck of the Landlord we had fallen upon this eastern coast, what would have become of us, and how should we have found anything to live upon?"
"Necessity would have compelled you to go into the interior," Mr. Wolston answered. "And in making your way round Deliverance Bay you would certainly have come to the spot where the tents of Tent Home were pitched."
"That is so, Wolston," M. Zermatt replied, "but think of the effort involved, and think of the despair we should have been a prey to during those first days."
"Who can tell, too," Ernest put in, "if our tub boat would not have been smashed on these rocks? How different from the mouth of Jackal River, where we were able to land without any risk or difficulty!"
About eleven o'clock the Elizabeth reached Unicorn Bay, and half an hour later dropped anchor at the foot of a rock near the spot where the English corvette had been moored.
M. Zermatt's plan, of which all approved, was to land in this corner of the bay and spend the rest of the day there, then to start again at daybreak next morning to continue the voyage along the coast line.
When the anchor was fast the stern of the pinnace was brought in by a hawser, and the landing was effected on fine, hard sand.
The bay was surrounded by a limestone cliff about a hundred feet in height from the foot to the top, which could only be gained by means of a narrow gap in the centre of it.
The party walked over the beach, which still bore traces of the last encampment. Here and there a few prints could still be seen in the sand above high water mark, with bits of wood left from the repairs to the corvette, holes made by the tent pegs, lumps of coal scattered among the shingle, and ashes from the fires.
All this prompted M. Zermatt to make the following remarks, fully justified by the circumstances:
"Just imagine if this were our first visit to the east coast of the island; with all these indisputable proofs before us of a landing, which the marks show to have been recent, think of the regrets and disappointment we should have felt! A ship had anchored here, her crew had camped within this bay, and we did not know anything about it! And after leaving this utterly deserted shore, could we have ventured to hope that she would ever come back?"
"That is very true," Betsy replied. "How was it that we learned of the arrival of the Unicorn?"
"By chance," said Jack; "pure chancel"
"No, my boy," M. Zermatt answered; "whatever Ernest may have said, it was due to our custom of firing our guns at Shark's Island every year at this season, to which the corvette replied with three guns."
"I must acknowledge that I was wrong," Ernest confessed.
"And think of our anxiety and our despair," M. Zermatt went on, "during the next three days, when the storm prevented us from going back to the island to repeat our signals, and think of our fear
that the ship might have left again before we could reach her!"
"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Wolston, "that would have been a frightful disappointment! Fancy knowing that a ship had anchored in this bay and that you had not been able to communicate with her! And yet, in my opinion, your chances of being restored to your own home were still greatly increased."
"That is certain," Ernest said emphatically, "for our island was no longer unknown, seeing that the ship must have ascertained its position, which would have been entered in the charts. Some day or other a ship would have come to take possession of this land."
"Well, finally and in conclusion," said Jack, "the Unicorn did come, the Unicorn was observed, the Unicorn was visited, the Unicorn has gone, the Unicorn will come back, and what we have to do now, I think,
"And at once," exclaimed Jack. "We ought to be a good two miles away already."
"You would not have talked like that before lunch," Hannah remarked with a smile; "you ate enough for four people."
"And now I am ready to walk four times as far as anyone else," Jack answered; "ready to go to the end of the world—our small world, I mean."
"But if you go so far, so very far, my dear boy," said Mme. Zermatt, "we shall not be able to follow you."
"Upon my word," said M. Zermatt emphatically, slapping his son on the shoulder, "I am at my wits' end to know how to curb Jack's impatience! There is absolutely no way of holding him in. Why, I think even Fritz never showed such—"
"Fritz?" Jack retorted. "Well, isn't it my duty to try to take his place in everything? When he comes back he won't be what he was before he went away."
"Why not?" Hannah asked.
"Because he will be married, father of a family, papa and grand-papa, too, if he does not come back soon."
"Do you think so, Jack?" Mrs. Wolston laughed. "Fritz a grandfather after one year's absence?"
"Well, grandfather or not, he will be married."
"And why shouldn't he be what he was, even then?" Hannah insisted.
"Let Jack talk, Hannah," Ernest answered. "His turn will come to make an excellent husband just as Fritz's will."
"Just as yours will, my boy," Jack retorted, with a shrewd look at Ernest and the young girl. "For my own part I should be mightily surprised at such a thing; I think nature specially cut me out to be an uncle, the very best of uncles, an Uncle of New Switzerland! But there is no question to-day, so far as I am aware, of parading in bridal array before the Mayor of Rock Castle; the question is, are we to explore beyond this cliff?"
"I think," said Mrs. Wolston, "that Mme. Zermatt, Hannah, and I had better stay here while you make your trip, which is sure to be very tiring if it lasts until the evening. This beach is absolutely deserted, and we need not be afraid of any unpleasant visitors. Besides, it would be quite easy for us to return to the pinnace. If you leave us like this at the camp there will be no risk of your being delayed or stopped."
"I believe you would be perfectly safe here, my dear Merry," said M. Zermatt, "and yet I should not be easy at leaving you."
"Right!" Ernest exclaimed, "I ask nothing better than to stay too, while—"
"Ah!" cried Jack, "there's our student all over! To stay—no doubt to shove his nose into his musty books! I am sure he has stuffed one or two volumes into the bottom of the hold. Well, let him stay, but on condition that Hannah comes with us."
"And your mother and Mrs. Wolston too," M. Zermatt added. "Upon consideration that is much better. They will stop when they are tired."
"And then Ernest will be able to keep them company," said Jack, laughing again.
"Don't let us waste time," said Mr. Wolston. "The difficulty might have been to scale this cliff, which I should guess to be a hundred or a hundred and fifty feet high. But, fortunately, the pitch of this gap is not very steep, and that will take us onto the upper level. When once we are on the top we will decide what is best to be done."
"Let's go! Let's go!" Jack repeated.
Before starting M. Zermatt went to examine the Elizabeth's mooring. He satisfied himself that there would be no danger of her grounding at low tide or of striking against the rocks at high tide.
Then they all moved towards the gap. Each of the men carried a gun, a shot bag, a powder flask, and some ball cartridge prepared by Jack. The young sportsman quite expected indeed to bag some game, perhaps some wild animal of known or unknown species, in this part of New Switzerland.
Brownie and Fawn hunted in front. The party followed them up a slanting track, the steepness of which was lessened by its many windings. In the rainy season the gap doubtless served as a shoot for the water from the platform above, which then would form a torrent But now, at the height of summer, its bed was dry. It was necessary to be careful in walking between these rocks, which might easily have fallen like an avalanche if the least shock had upset their equilibrium.
Quite half-an-hour was required to reach the top of the cliff.
The first to step out onto the top was the eager Jack.
Before him, towards the west, a vast plain extended as far as eye could see.
Jack stood wonderstricken. He turned about to gaze round. When Mr. Wolston joined him he exclaimed:
"What a country! What a surprise, and what a disappointment!"
The discomfiture was general when M. Zermatt and the others emerged upon the plateau.
Mrs. Wolston and Mme. Zermatt, with Hannah near them, sat down at the foot of a great block of rock. There was not a tree to give the least shelter from a raging sun no grass on which to lie down. The stony ground, strewn haphazard with great rocks, unadapted to any vegetable growth, was carpeted in places with some of those wild mosses which do not require soil. As M. Zermatt declared, it was a desert of Arabia Petraea adjoining the fertile district of the Promised Land.
It was indeed an amazing contrast to the region lying between Jackal River and False Hope Point, and to the country beyond the defile of Cluse, the Green Valley, and the land abutting on Pearl Bay. And Mme. Zermatt's question may well be echoed, what would have been the plight of the shipwrecked family if the tub boat had deposited them on the eastern coast of the island?
From this cliff as far as Deliverance Bay, which could be discerned five miles away to the west, the eye saw nothing but a desert country, without verdure, without a tree, without a single stream. Upon its surface no four-footed creature could be descried. It seemed to be forsaken even by the birds of land and sea.
"This is the end of our excursion," said M. Zermatt, "at any rate in this portion of our island."
"Beyond all question," Mr. Wolston replied; "I think it is quite useless to brave this tropic heat to reconnoitre a stony country with which nothing can be done."
"How capricious and fantastic nature is!" Ernest remarked. "She only proceeds by contrasts! Down there, all her productive energy in action: here, the most appalling sterility!"
"I think the best thing we can do," said Mme. Zermatt, "is to go down to the beach again and return to the ship."
"I also think so," said Mr. Wolston.
"Very well," said Jack, "but not until we have climbed to the top of the last rocks."
And he pointed to a heap of rocks which rose up on the left, sixty feet or so above the ground level. In less than five minutes he was at the top of it. Then after looking all round the horizon he called to Mr. Wolston and to his father and brother to come and join him.
Did it mean that he had made some discovery in the south-west, in which direction he was pointing?
Mr. Wolston and M. Zermatt were soon up beside him, though not without some trouble.
In this direction the littoral did really present an entirely different aspect.
About five miles from Unicorn Bay the cliff dropped abruptly and ended at a broad valley, probably watered by one of the main rivers of the island. On the further side of this depression were rolling, verdant masses of dense woods. In the breaks in these and beyond them the country displayed a most luxuriant vegeta
tion to the extreme limits of the south and south-west.
The arid district seemed to be confined to the immediate area of some twelve to fifteen square miles contained between Cape East and Deliverance Bay.
If ever a country called for exploration, it was certainly that which now was seen for the first time. What surprises and what opportunities might it not have in store, although it could never surpass the Promised Land!
"Let us go," said Jack.
"Let us go," Mr. Wolston echoed, eager to hurry towards the new valley.
But five long miles over ground strewn with boulders, following a way among the rocks—think of the time needed to do them, and the fatigue, to say nothing of the danger of sunstroke on this shadeless tableland!
