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

corral, and failing to find Ayrton there, were to scour the neighboring woods.

At six o’clock in the morning the engineer and his three companions had crossed Glycerine Creek, and Neb posted himself behind a low cliff, crowned by some large dragon trees on the left side of the brook. The colonists, after leaving Prospect Plateau, took the direct route to the corral. They carried their guns on their shoulders, ready to fire at the first sign of hostility. The two rifles and the two guns had been carefully loaded.

On either side of the path was a dense thicket, which might easily hide enemies, who, as they were armed, would be indeed formidable. The colonists walked on rapidly without a word. Top preceded them, sometimes keeping to the path, and sometimes making a detour into the wood, but not appearing to suspect anything unusual; and they might depend upon it that the faithful dog would not be taken by surprise, and would bark at the slightest appearance of danger.

Along this same path Smith and his companions followed the telegraphic wires which connected the corral with Granite House. For the first two miles they did not notice any solution of continuity. The posts were in good condition, the insulators uninjured, and the wire evenly stretched. From this point the engineer noticed that the tension was less complete, and at last, arriving at post No. 74, Herbert, who was ahead of the others, cried, “The wire is broken!”

His companions hastened forward and arrived at the spot where the boy had stopped. There the overturned post was lying across the path. They had discovered the break, and it was evident that the dispatches from Granite House could not have been received at the corral.

“It can’t be the wind that has overturned this post,” said Pencroff.

“No,” answered the reporter, “there are marks of footsteps on the ground; it has been uprooted by the hand of man.”

“Besides, the wire is broken,” added Herbert, showing the two ends of the wire which had been violently torn asunder.

“Is the break a fresh one?” asked Smith.

“Yes,” said Herbert, “it was certainly made a very short time ago.”

“To the corral! to the corral!” cried the sailor.

The colonists were then midway between Granite House and the corral, and had still two miles and a half to go. They started on a run.

In fact, they might well fear that something had happened at the corral. Ayrton doubtless might have sent a telegram which had not arrived. It was not this which alarmed his companions, but a circumstance more remarkable. Ayrton, who had promised to come back the evening before, had not reappeared! The communication, between Granite House and the corral had been out with a sinister design.

They hurried on, their hearts beating quick with fear for their comrade, to whom they were sincerely attached; were they to find him struck down by the hand of those he had formerly led?

Soon they reached the place where the road lay along by the little brook flowing from Red Creek, which watered the meadows of the corral. They had moderated their pace, so as not to be out of breath at the moment when a deadly struggle might occur. Their guns were uncocked, but loaded. Each of them watched one side of the woods. Top kept up an ill-omened growling.

At last the fenced enclosure appeared behind the trees. They saw no signs of devastation. The door was closed as usual; a profound silence reigned at the corral. Neither the accustomed bleatings of the sheep nor the voice of Ayrton was to be heard.

“Let us go in,” said Smith, and the engineer advanced, while his companions, keeping guard twenty feet in the rear, stood ready to fire.

Smith raised the inner latch, and began to push back the door, when Top barked loudly. There was a report from behind the fence, followed by a cry of pain, and Herbert, pierced by a bullet, fell to the ground!

XLIX

The reporter and Pencroff in the corral⁠—Moving Herbert⁠—Despair of the sailor⁠—Consultation of the engineer and the reporter⁠—Mode of treatment⁠—A glimmer of hope⁠—How to warn Neb⁠—A faithful messenger⁠—Neb’s reply.

At Herbert’s cry, Pencroff, dropping his gun, sprang towards him.

“They have killed him!” cried he. “My boy⁠—they have killed him.”

Smith and Spilett rushed forward. The reporter put his ear to the boy’s heart to see if it were still beating.

“He’s alive,” said he, “but he must be taken⁠—”

“To Granite House? Impossible!” said the engineer.

“To the corral, then,” cried Pencroff.

“One moment,” said Smith, and he rushed to the left around the fence. There he found himself face to face with a convict, who fired at him and sent a ball through his cap. An instant later, before he had time to fire again, he fell, struck to the heart by Smith’s poniard, a surer weapon even than his gun.

While this was going on, the reporter and Pencroff hoisted themselves up to the angle of the fence, strode over the top, jumped into the enclosure, made their way into the empty house, and laid Herbert gently down on Ayrton’s bed.

A few minutes afterwards Smith was at his side. At the sight of Herbert, pale and unconscious, the grief of the sailor was intense. He sobbed and cried bitterly; neither the engineer nor the reporter could calm him. Themselves overwhelmed with emotion, they could hardly speak.

They did all in their power to save the poor boy’s life. Spilett, in his life of varied experience, had acquired some knowledge of medicine. He knew a little of everything; and had had several opportunities of learning the surgery of gunshot wounds. With Smith’s assistance, he hastened to apply the remedies which Herbert’s condition demanded.

The boy lay in a complete stupor, caused either by the hemorrhage or by concussion of the brain. He was very pale, and his pulse beat only at long intervals, as if every moment about to stop. This, taken in conjunction with his utter loss of consciousness, was a grave symptom. They stripped