Around the World in Eighty Days. Junior Deluxe Edition

by Jules Verne

  Chapter 28

  In Which Passepartout Does Not Succeedin Making Anybody Listen to Reason

  The train, on leaving Great Salt Lake at Ogden, passed northwardfor an hour as far as Weber River, having completed nearly ninehundred miles from San Francisco. From this point it took aneasterly direction towards the jagged Wahsatch Mountains. It wasin the section included between this range and the RockyMountains that the American engineers found the most formidabledifficulties in laying the road, and that the government granteda subsidy of forty-eight thousand dollars per mile, instead ofsixteen thousand allowed for the work done on the plains. But theengineers, instead of violating nature, avoided its difficultiesby winding around, instead of penetrating the rocks. One tunnelonly, fourteen thousand feet in length, was pierced in order toarrive at the great basin.

  The track up to this time had reached its highest elevation atthe Great Salt Lake. From this point it described a long curve,descending towards Bitter Creek Valley, to rise again to thedividing ridge of the waters between the Atlantic and thePacific. There were many creeks in this mountainous region, andit was necessary to cross Muddy Creek, Green Creek and others,upon culverts.

  Passepartout grew more and more impatient as they went on, whileFix longed to get out of this difficult region, and was moreanxious than Phileas Fogg himself to be beyond the danger ofdelays and accidents, and set foot on English soil.

  At ten o'clock at night the train stopped at Fort Bridgerstation, and twenty minutes later entered Wyoming Territory,following the valley of Bitter Creek throughout. The next day,December 7th, they stopped for a quarter of an hour at GreenRiver station. Snow had fallen heavily during the night, but,being mixed with rain, it had half melted, and did not interrupttheir progress. The bad weather, however, annoyed Passepartout;for the accumulation of snow, by blocking the wheels of the cars,would certainly have been fatal to Mr. Fogg's tour.

  "What an idea!" he said to himself. "Why did my master make thisjourney in winter? Couldn't he have waited for the good season toincrease his chances?"

  While the worthy Frenchman was absorbed in the state of the skyand the depression of the temperature, Aouda was experiencingfears from a totally different cause.

  Several passengers had got off at Green River, and were walkingup and down the platforms. Among these Aouda recognized ColonelStamp Proctor, the same man who had so grossly insulted PhileasFogg at the San Francisco meeting. Not wishing to be recognized,the young woman drew back from the window, feeling much alarm ather discovery. She was attached to the man who, howevercoldly, gave her daily evidences of the most absolute devotion.She did not comprehend, perhaps, the depth of the sentiment withwhich her protector inspired her, which she called gratitude,but which, though she was unconscious of it, was really more thanthat. Her heart sank within her when she recognized the man whomMr. Fogg desired, sooner or later, to call to account for hisconduct. Chance alone, it was clear, had brought Colonel Proctoron this train; but there he was, and it was necessary, at allhazards, that Phileas Fogg should not perceive his adversary.

  Aouda seized a moment when Mr. Fogg was asleep to tell Fix andPassepartout whom she had seen.

  "That Proctor on this train!" cried Fix. "Well, reassureyourself, madam. Before he settles with Mr. Fogg, he has got todeal with me! It seems to me that I was the more insulted of thetwo."

  "And, besides," added Passepartout, "I'll take charge of him,colonel as he is."

  "Mr. Fix," resumed Aouda, "Mr. Fogg will allow no one to avengehim. He said that he would come back to America to find this man.Should he perceive Colonel Proctor, we could not prevent acollision which might have terrible results. He must not seehim."

  "You are right, madam," replied Fix. "A meeting between themmight ruin all. Whether he were victorious or beaten, Mr. Foggwould be delayed, and--"

  "And," added Passepartout, "that would play the game of thegentlemen of the Reform Club. In four days we shall be in NewYork. Well, if my master does not leave this car during thosefour days, we may hope that chance will not bring him face toface with this confounded American. We must, if possible, preventhis stirring out of it."

  The conversation dropped. Mr. Fogg had just awakened, and waslooking out of the window. Soon after Passepartout, without beingheard by his master or Aouda, whispered to the detective, "Wouldyou really fight for him?"

  "I would do anything," replied Fix, in a tone which betrayeddetermined will, "to get him back living to Europe!"

  Passepartout felt something like a shudder shoot through hisframe, but his confidence in his master remained unbroken.

  Was there any means of detaining Mr. Fogg in the car, to avoid ameeting between him and the colonel? It ought not to be adifficult task, since that gentleman was naturally sedentary andlittle curious. The detective, at least, seemed to have found away; for, after a few moments, he said to Mr. Fogg, "These arelong and slow hours, sir, that we are passing on the railway."

  "Yes," replied Mr. Fogg, "but they pass."

  "You were in the habit of playing whist," resumed Fix, "on thesteamers."

  "Yes; but it would be difficult to do so here. I have neithercards nor partners."

  "Oh, but we can easily buy some cards, for they are sold on allthe American trains. And as for partners, if madam plays--"

  "Certainly, sir," Aouda quickly replied, "I understand whist. Itis part of an English education."

  "I myself have some pretensions to playing a good game. Well,here are three of us, and a dummy--"

  "As you please, sir," replied Phileas Fogg, heartily glad toresume his favorite pastime--even on the railway.

  Passepartout was despatched in search of the steward, and soonreturned with two packs of cards, some pins, counters and a shelfcovered with cloth.

  The game commenced. Aouda understood whist sufficiently well, andeven received some compliments on her playing from Mr. Fogg. Asfor the detective, he was adept, and worthy of being matchedagainst his present opponent.

  "Now," thought Passepartout, "we've got him. He won't budge."

  At eleven in the morning the train had reached the dividing ridgeof the waters at Bridger Pass, seven thousand five hundred andtwenty-four feet above the level of the sea, one of the highestpoints attained by the track in crossing the Rocky Mountains.After going about two hundred miles, the travelers at last foundthemselves on one of those vast plains which extend to theAtlantic, and which nature has made so propitious for laying theiron road.

  On the declivity of the Atlantic basin the first streams,branches of the North Platte River, already appeared. The wholenorthern and eastern horizon was bounded by the immensesemi-circular curtain which is formed by the southern portion ofthe Rocky Mountains, the highest being Laramie Peak. Between thisand the railway extended vast plains, plentifully irrigated. Onthe right rose the lower spurs of the mountainous mass whichextends southward to the sources of the Arkansas River, one ofthe great tributaries of the Missouri.

  At half-past twelve the travelers caught sight for an instant ofFort Halleck, which commands that section. In a few more hoursthe Rocky Mountains were crossed. There was reason to hope, then,that no accident would mark the journey through this difficultcountry. The snow had ceased falling, and the air became crispand cold. Large birds, frightened by the locomotive, rose andflew off in the distance. No wild beast appeared on the plain. Itwas a desert in its vast nakedness.

  After a comfortable breakfast, served in the car, Mr. Fogg andhis partners had just resumed whist, when a violent whistling washeard, and the train stopped. Passepartout put his head out ofthe door, but saw nothing to cause the delay. No station was inview.

  Aouda and Fix feared that Mr. Fogg might take it into his head toget out, but that gentleman contented himself with saying to hisservant, "See what is the matter."

  Passepartout rushed out of the car. Thirty or forty passengershad already descended, amongst them Colonel Stamp Proctor.

  The train had stopped before a red signal which blocked the way.The enginee
r and conductor were talking excitedly with asignal-man, whom the station-master at Medicine Bow, the nextstopping place, had sent on before. The passengers drew aroundand took part in the discussion, in which Colonel Proctor, withhis insolent manner, was conspicuous.

  Passepartout, joining the group, heard the signal-man say, "No!You can't pass. The bridge at Medicine Bow is shaky, and wouldnot bear the weight of the train."

  This was a suspension-bridge thrown over some rapids, about amile from the place where they now were. According to thesignal-man, it was in a ruinous condition, several of the ironwires being broken; and it was impossible to risk the passage. Hedid not in any way exaggerate the condition of the bridge. It maybe taken for granted that, rash as the Americans usually are,when they are prudent there is good reason for it.

  Passepartout, not daring to tell his master what he heard,listened with set teeth, immovable as a statue.

  "Hum!" cried Colonel Proctor, "but we are not going to stay here,I imagine, and take root in the Snow?"

  "Colonel," replied the conductor, "we have telegraphed to Omahafor a train, but it is not likely that it will reach Medicine Bowin less than six hours."

  "Six hours!" cried Passepartout.

  "Certainly," returned the conductor, "besides, it will take us aslong as that to reach Medicine Bow on foot."

  "But it is only a mile from here," said one of the passengers."Yes, but it's on the other side of the river."

  "And can't we cross that in a boat?" asked the colonel.

  "That's impossible. The creek is swelled by the rains. It is arapid, and we shall have to make a circuit of ten miles to thenorth to find a ford."

  The colonel launched a volley of oaths, denouncing the railwaycompany and the conductor. Passepartout, who was furious, couldnot help but agree with him. Here was an obstacle, indeed, whichall his master's banknotes could not remove.

  There was a general disappointment among the passengers, who,without reckoning the delay, saw themselves compelled to trudgefifteen miles over a plain covered with snow. They grumbled andprotested, and would certainly have thus attracted Phileas Fogg'sattention if he had not been completely absorbed in his game.

  Passepartout found that he could not avoid telling his masterwhat had occurred, and, with hanging head, he was turningtowards the car, when the engineer--a true Yankee, namedForster--called out, "Gentlemen, perhaps there is a way, afterall, to get over."

  "On the bridge?" asked a passenger.

  "On the bridge."

  "With our train?"

  "With our train."

  Passepartout stopped short, and eagerly listened to the engineer.

  "But the bridge is unsafe," urged the conductor.

  "No matter," replied Forster; "I think that by putting on thevery highest speed we might have a chance of getting over."

  "The devil!" muttered Passepartout.

  But a number of the passengers were at once attracted by theengineer's proposal, and Colonel Proctor was especiallydelighted, and found the plan a very feasible one. He toldstories about engineers leaping their trains over rivers withoutbridges, by putting on full steam; and many of those presentavowed themselves of the engineer's mind.

  "We have fifty chances out of a hundred of getting over," saidone.

  "Eighty! ninety!"

  Passepartout was astounded, and, though ready to attempt anythingto get over Medicine Creek, thought the experiment proposed alittle too American. "Besides," thought he, "there's a still moresimple way, and it does not even occur to any of these people!Sir," said he aloud to one of the passengers, "the engineer'splan seems to me a little dangerous, but--"

  "Eighty chances!" replied the passenger, turning his back on him.

  "I know it," said Passepartout, turning to another passenger,"but a simple idea--"

  "Ideas are no use," returned the American, shrugging hisshoulders, "as the engineer assures us that we can pass."

  "Doubtless," urged Passepartout, "we can pass, but perhaps itwould be more prudent--"

  "What! Prudent!" cried Colonel Proctor, whom this word seemed toexcite prodigiously. "At full speed, don't you see, at fullspeed!"

  "I know--I see," repeated Passepartout; "but it would be, if notmore prudent, since that word displeases you, at least morenatural--"

  "Who! What! What's the matter with this fellow?" cried several.

  The poor fellow did not know to whom to address himself.

  "Are you afraid?" asked Colonel Proctor.

  "I afraid! Very well; I will show these people that a Frenchmancan be as American as they!"

  "All aboard!" cried the conductor.

  "Yes, all aboard!" repeated Passepartout, and immediately. "Butthey can't prevent me from thinking that it would be more naturalfor us to cross the bridge on foot, and let the train comeafter!"

  But no one heard this sage reflection, nor would anyone haveacknowledged its justice. The passengers resumed their places inthe cars. Passepartout took his seat without telling what hadpassed. The whist-players were quite absorbed in their game.

  The locomotive whistled vigorously. The engineer, reversing thesteam, backed the train for nearly a mile--retiring, like ajumper, in order to take a longer leap. Then, with anotherwhistle, he began to move forward. The train increased its speed,and soon its rapidity became frightful. A prolonged screechissued from the locomotive. The piston worked up and down twentystrokes to the second. They perceived that the whole train,rushing on at the rate of a hundred miles an hour, hardly boreupon the rails at all.

  And they passed over! It was like a flash. No one saw the bridge.The train leaped, so to speak, from one bank to the other, andthe engineer could not stop it until it had gone five milesbeyond the station. But scarcely had the train passed the river,when the bridge, completely ruined, fell with a crash into therapids of Medicine Bow.