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

“The reason is, that he knows that only Malays frequent these seas, and these gentlemen are a kind of rascals that had better be avoided.”

“Is it not possible, sir, that sometime we will discover traces of their landing and, perhaps, be able to settle this point?”

“It is not unlikely, my boy. An abandoned camp or the remains of a fire, we would certainly notice, and these are what we will look for on our exploration.”

The hunters, talking in this way, found themselves in a portion of the forest near the Mercy, remarkable for its splendid trees. Among others, were those magnificent conifera, called by the New Zealanders kauris, rising more than 200 feet in height.

“I have an idea, Mr. Spilett,” said Herbert, “supposing I climb to the top of one of these kauris, I could see, perhaps, for a good ways.”

“It’s a good idea,” answered the other, “but can you climb one of these giants?”

“I am going to try, anyhow,” exclaimed the boy, springing upon the lower branches of one, which grew in such a manner as to make the tree easy to mount. In a few minutes he was in its top, high above all the surrounding leafage of the forest.

From this height, the eye could take in all the southern portion of the island between Claw Cape on the southeast and Reptile Promontory on the southwest. To the northwest rose Mount Franklin, shutting out more than one-fourth of the horizon.

But Herbert, from his perch, could overlook the very portion of the island which was giving, or had given, refuge to the strangers whose presence they suspected. The lad looked about him with great attention, first towards the sea, where not a sail was visible, although it was possible that a ship, and especially one dismasted, lying close in to shore, would be concealed from view by the trees which hid the coast. In the woods of the Far West nothing could be seen. The forest formed a vast impenetrable dome many miles in extent, without an opening or glade. Even the course of the Mercy could not be seen, and it might be that there were other streams flowing westward, which were equally invisible.

But, other signs failing, could not the lad catch in the air some smoke that would indicate the presence of man? The atmosphere was pure, and the slightest vapor was sharply outlined against the sky. For an instant Herbert thought he saw a thin film rising in the west, but a more careful observation convinced him that he was mistaken. He looked again, however, with all care, and his sight was excellent. No, certainly, it was nothing.

Herbert climbed down the tree, and he and the reporter returned to Granite House. There Smith listened to the lad’s report without comment. It was plain he would not commit himself until after the island had been explored.

Two days later⁠—the 28th of October⁠—another unaccountable incident happened.

In strolling along the beach, two miles from Granite House, Herbert and Neb had been lucky enough to capture a splendid specimen of the Chelonia mydas (green turtle), whose carapace shone with emerald reflections. Herbert had caught sight of it moving among the rocks towards the sea.

“Stop him, Neb, stop him!” he cried.

Neb ran to it.

“It’s a fine animal,” said Neb, “but how are we going to keep it?”

“That’s easy enough, Neb. All we have to do is to turn it on its back, and then it cannot get away. Take your spear and do as I do.”

The reptile had shut itself in its shell, so that neither its head nor eyes were visible, and remained motionless as a rock. The lad and the negro placed their spears underneath it, and, after some difficulty, succeeded in turning it over. It measured three feet in length, and must have weighed at least 400 pounds.

“There, that will please Pencroff,” cried Neb.

Indeed, the sailor could not fail to be pleased, as the flesh of these turtles, which feed upon eelgrass, is very savory.

“And now what can we do with our game?” asked Neb; “we can’t carry it to Granite House.”

“Leave it here, since it cannot turn back again,” answered Herbert, “and we will come for it with the cart.”

Neb agreed, and Herbert, as an extra precaution, which the negro thought useless, propped up the reptile with large stones. Then the two returned to Granite House, following the beach, on which the tide was down. Herbert, wishing to surprise Pencroff, did not tell him of the prize which was lying on its back upon the sand; but two hours later Neb and he returned with the cart to where they had left it, and⁠—the “splendid specimen of Chelonia mydas” was not there!

The two looked about them. Certainly, this was where they had left it. Here were the stones he had used, and, therefore, the lad could not be mistaken.

“Did the beast turn over, after all?” asked Neb.

“It seems so,” replied Herbert, puzzled, and examining the stones scattered over the sand.

“Pencroff will be disappointed.”

“And Mr. Smith will be troubled to explain this!” thought Herbert.

“Well,” said Neb, who wished to conceal their misadventure, “we won’t say anything about it.”

“Indeed, we will tell the whole story,” answered Herbert.

And taking with them the useless cart, they returned to Granite House.

At the shipyard they found the engineer and the sailor working together. Herbert related all that happened.

“You foolish fellows,” cried the sailor, “to let at least fifty pounds of soup, escape!”

“But, Pencroff,” exclaimed Neb, “it was not our fault that the reptile got away; haven’t I told you we turned it on its back?”

“Then you didn’t turn it enough!” calmly asserted the stubborn sailor.

“Not enough!” cried Herbert; and he told how he had taken care to prop the turtle up with stones.

“Then it was a miracle!” exclaimed Pencroff.

“Mr. Smith,” asked Herbert, “I thought that turtles once placed on their backs could not get over again, especially the very large ones?”

“That is the fact,” answered Smith.

“Then how did