The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne (uplifting books for women txt) 📕

that as the tide was now low there would be no influx from the sea, and the water would be fresh. When this important point had been settled, Herbert looked for some cave which might give them shelter, but it was in vain. Everywhere the wall was smooth, flat, and perpendicular.

However, over at the mouth of the watercourse, and above high-water mark, the detritus had formed, not a grotto, but a pile of enormous rocks, such as are often met with in granitic countries, and which are called “Chimneys.”

Pencroff and Herbert went down between the rocks, into those sandy corridors, lighted only by the huge cracks between the masses of granite, some of which only kept their equilibrium by a miracle. But with the light the wind came in, and with the wind the piercing cold of the outer air. Still, the sailor thought that by stopping up some of these openings with a mixture of stones and sand, the Chimneys might be rendered habitable. Their plan resembled the typographical sign, &, and by cutting off the upper curve of the sign, through which the south and the west wind rushed in, they could succeed without doubt in utilizing its lower portion.

“This is just what we want,” said Pencroff, “and if we ever see Mr. Smith again, he will know how to take advantage of this labyrinth.”

“We shall see him again, Pencroff,” said Herbert, “and when he comes back he must find here a home that is tolerably comfortable. We can make this so if we can build a fireplace in the left corridor with an opening for the smoke.”

“That we can do, my boy,” answered the sailor, “and these Chimneys will just serve our purpose. But first we must get together some firing. Wood will be useful, too, in blocking up these great holes through which the wind whistles so shrilly.”

Herbert and Pencroff left the Chimneys, and turning the angle, walked up the left bank of the river, whose current was strong enough to bring down a quantity of dead wood. The return tide, which had already begun, would certainly carry it in the ebb to a great distance. “Why not utilize this flux and reflux,” thought the sailor, “in the carriage of heavy timber?”

After a quarter of an hour’s walk, the two reached the elbow which the river made in turning to the left. From this point onward it flowed through a forest of magnificent trees, which had preserved their verdure in spite of the season; for they belonged to that great cone-bearing family indigenous everywhere, from the poles to the tropics. Especially conspicuous were the deodara, so numerous in the Himalayas, with their pungent perfume. Among them were clusters of pines, with tall trunks and spreading parasols of green. The ground was strewn with fallen branches, so dry as to crackle under their feet.

“Good,” said the sailor, “I may not know the name of these trees, but I know they belong to the genus firewood, and that’s the main thing for us.”

It was an easy matter to gather the firewood. They did not need even to strip the trees; plenty of dead branches lay at their feet. This dry wood would burn rapidly, and they would need a large supply. How could two men carry such a load to the Chimneys? Herbert asked the question.

“My boy,” said the sailor, “there’s a way to do everything. If we had a car or a boat it would be too easy.”

“We have the river,” suggested Herbert.

“Exactly,” said Pencroff. “The river shall be our road and our carrier, too. Timber-floats were not invented for nothing.”

“But our carrier is going in the wrong direction,” said Herbert, “since the tide is coming up from the sea.”

“We have only to wait for the turn of tide,” answered the sailor. “Let us get our float ready.”

They walked towards the river, each carrying a heavy load of wood tied up in fagots. On the bank, too, lay quantities of dead boughs, among grass which the foot of man had probably never pressed before. Pencroff began to get ready his float.

In an eddy caused by an angle of the shore, which broke the flow of the current, they set afloat the larger pieces of wood, bound together by liana stems so as to form a sort of raft. On this raft they piled the rest of the wood, which would have been a load for twenty men. In an hour their work was finished, and the float was moored to the bank to wait for the turn of the tide. Pencroff and Herbert resolved to spend the meantime in gaining a more extended view of the country from the higher plateau. Two hundred feet behind the angle of the river, the wall terminating in irregular masses of rocks, sloped away gently to the edge of the forest. The two easily climbed this natural staircase, soon attained the summit, and posted themselves at the angle overlooking the mouth of the river.

Their first look was at that ocean over which they had been so frightfully swept. They beheld with emotion the northern part of the coast, the scene of the catastrophe, and of Smith’s disappearance. They hoped to see on the surface some wreck of the balloon to which a man might cling. But the sea was a watery desert. The coast, too, was desolate. Neither Neb nor the reporter could be seen.

“Something tells me,” said Herbert, “that a person so energetic as Mr. Smith would not let himself be drowned like an ordinary man. He must have got to shore; don’t you think so, Pencroff?”

The sailor shook his head sadly. He never thought to see Smith again; but he left Herbert a hope.

“No doubt,” said he, “our engineer could save himself where anyone else would perish.”

Meanwhile he took a careful observation of the coast. Beneath his eyes stretched out the sandy beach, bounded, upon the right of the river-mouth, by lines of breakers. The rocks which still were visible above