The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne (rosie project txt) 📕

Once or twice, he spoke a word to the colonists who were about him, and he looked upon them with that smile which remained when he was no more.

At last, just after midnight, Captain Nemo made a supreme effort, and crossed his arms upon his breast, as if he wished to die in that attitude.

Towards 1 o’clock all the life that was left was concentrated in his expression. One last spark burned in that eye which had formerly flashed fire! Then, murmuring these words, “God and Fatherland,” he expired quietly.

Smith, stooping down, closed the eyes of him who had been Prince Dakkar, who was no more even Captain Nemo.

Herbert and Pencroff wept. Ayrton wiped away a furtive tear. Neb was on his knees near the reporter, who was immobile as a statue.

Smith raising his hand above the head of the dead man:—

“May God receive his soul!” he said, and then, turning towards his friends, he added:—

“Let us pray for him whom we have lost!”

*   *   *   *   *

Some hours later, the colonists, in fulfillment of their promise, carried out the last wishes of the dead.

They left the Nautilus, taking with them the sole souvenir of their benefactor, the coffer containing a hundred fortunes.

The marvellous salon, still flooded with light, was carefully closed. The cover to the hatchway was bolted down in such a manner that not a drop of water could penetrate to the inner chambers of the Nautilus. Then the colonists entered the boat, which was moored beside the submarine ship.

The boat was taken to the stern. There, at the water-line, they opened the two large cocks which communicated with the reservoirs designed to immerse the apparatus.

The cocks were opened, the reservoirs filled, and the Nautilus, sinking slowly, disappeared beneath the sea.

But the colonists were able still to follow her coarse through the lower depths. Her strong light lit up the transparent waters, as the crypt became darkened. Then at length the vast effusion of electric effulgence was effaced, and the Nautilus, the tomb of Captain Nemo, rested upon the bottom of the sea.

THE REFLECTIONS OF THE COLONISTS—RENEWAL OF WORK—THE 1ST OF JANUARY, 1869—A SMOKE FROM THE VOLCANO—SYMPTOMS OF AN ERUPTION AYRTON AND SMITH AT THE CORRAL—EXPLORATION OF THE CRYPT DAKKAR —WHAT CAPTAIN NEMO HAD SAID TO THE ENGINEER.

In the early morning the colonists reached the entrance of the cavern, which they called Crypt Dakkar, in remembrance of Captain Nemo. The tide was low, and they easily passed under the archway, whose piers were washed by the waves.

The iron boat could remain in this place without danger from the sea; but as additional precaution they drew it up on a little beach on one side of the crypt.

The storm had ceased during the night. The last mutterings of the thunder were dying away in the west. It was not raining, although the sky was still clouded. In short, this month of October, the beginning of the southern spring, did not come in good fashion, and the wind had a tendency to shift from one point of the compass to another, so that it was impossible to say what the weather would be.

Smith and his companions, on leaving Crypt Dakkar, went towards the corral. On the way Neb and Herbert took care to take up the wire which had been stretched by Captain Nemo, as it might be useful in the future.

While walking the colonists spoke but little. The incidents of this night had made a vivid impression upon them. This unknown, whose influence had protected them so well, this man whom they imagined a genii, Captain Nemo, was no more. His Nautilus and himself were buried in the depths of the abyss. It seemed to each one of them that they were more isolated than before. They were, so to speak, accustomed to count upon this powerful intervention which to-day was wanting, and Spilett, and even Smith, did not escape this feeling. So, without speaking, they followed the road to the corral.

By 9 o’clock the colonists were in Granite House again.

It had been agreed that the construction of the ship should be pushed forward as rapidly as possible, and Smith gave the work more of his time and care than ever before. They did not know what the future might bring forth, and it would be a guarantee of safety for them to have a strong vessel, able to stand rough weather, and large enough to carry them, if need be, a long distance. If, when it was finished, the colonists decided not to leave the island they could at least make the voyage to Tabor Island and leave a notice there. This was an indispensable precaution in case the Scotch yacht returned to these seas, and it must on no account be neglected.

The work was undertaken at once. All worked at it without ceasing, except to prosecute other necessary work. It was important to have the new ship finished in five months, if they wished to make the voyage to Tabor Island before the equinoxial storms would render it impracticable. All the sails of the Speedy had been saved, so that they need not trouble themselves about making rigging.

The year ended in the midst of this work. At the end of two months and a half the ribs had been put in place and the planking began, so that they were able to see that Smith’s plans were excellent. Pencroff worked with ardor, and always grumbled when any of the others left off work to go hunting. It was, nevertheless, necessary to lay in a stock of provisions for the approaching winter. But that made no difference. The honest sailor was unhappy unless every one was at work in the ship-yard. At these times he grumbled and did—he was so put out—the work of half a dozen men.

All this summer season was bad. The heat was overpowering, and the atmosphere, charged with electricity, discharged itself in violent storms. It was seldom that the distant muttering of the thunder was unheard. It was like a dull, but permanent murmur, such as is produced in the equatorial regions of the globe.

On the 1st of January, 1869, a terrific storm burst over the island, and the lightning struck in many places. Tall trees were shattered, and among them was one of the enormous micocouliers which shaded the poultry-yard. Had this meteoric storm any relation to the phenomena which were occurring In the bowels of the earth? Was there a sort of connection between the disturbances in the air and those in the interior of the globe. Smith believed it to be so, since the development of these storms was marked by a recrudescence of the volcanic symptoms.

On the 3d of January, Herbert, who had gone at daybreak to Prospect Plateau to saddle one of the onagers, saw an immense black cloud rolling out from the summit of the volcano.

Herbert hastened to inform the others, who came at once to look at the mountain.

“Ah!” said Pencroff, “it is not vapor this time! It seems to me that the giant is not content to breathe, he must smoke!”

The image employed by the sailor expressed with exactness the change which had taken place at the mouth of the volcano. For three months the crater had been emitting vapors more or less intense, but there had been no ebullition of mineral matters. This time, instead of vapors, a thick column of smoke rose, like an immense mushroom, above the summit of the mountain.

“The chimney is on fire!” said Spilett.

“And we cannot put it out!” answered Herbert.

“It would be well to sweep the volcanoes,” said Neb, in good earnest.

“All right, Neb,” said Pencroff, laughing. “Will you undertake the job?”

Smith looked attentively at the thick smoke, and at the same time he listened as if he expected to detect some distant rumbling. Then, turning towards his companions, who were at some little distance, he said:—

“In truth, my friends, it cannot be denied that an important change has taken place. The volcanic matters are not only in a state of ebullition, they have taken fire, and, without doubt, we are threatened with an eruption!”

“Very well, sir; we will witness this eruption,” cried Pencroff, “and we will applaud it if it is a success! I don’t think that anything over there need worry us!”

“No, Pencroff,” answered Smith, “for the old course of the lava is open, and, thanks to its position, the crater has heretofore discharged towards the north. Nevertheless—”

“Nevertheless, since there is nothing to be gained by an eruption, it would be better not to have it,” said the reporter.

“Who knows?” replied the sailor. “There may be some useful and precious matter in the volcano, which it will be good enough to throw up, which will be advantageous for us!”

Smith shook his head, as a man who anticipated nothing good from this phenomenon. He did not think so lightly of the consequences of an eruption. If the lava, on account of the position of the crater, did not menace the wooded and cultivated portions of the island, other complications might arise. Eruptions are often accompanied by earthquakes, and an island formed, like Lincoln Island, of such different materials: basalt on one side, granite on another, lavas to the north, a mixed soil inland, material which, therefore, could not be solidly bound together, ran the risk of being torn asunder. If, therefore, the outpouring of volcanic substances did not threaten serious results, any movement in the framework upholding the island might be followed by the gravest consequences.

“It seems to me,” said Ayrton, who was kneeling down, with his ear to the ground, “it seems to me that I hear a noise, like the rattling of a wagon, loaded with iron bars.”

The colonists listened carefully, and were convinced that Ayrton was not mistaken. With the rumbling mingled subterranean roaring, making a sort of “rinfordzando,” which died away slowly, as if from some violent cleavage in the interior of the globe. But no detonation was heard, and it was fair to conclude that the smoke and vapor found a free passage through the central chimney, and, if the escape-pipe was sufficiently large, no explosion need be feared.

“Come,” said Pencroff at length, “shall we not go back to work? Let Mount Franklin smoke, brawl, moan, and vomit fire and flames as much as it chooses, but that is no excuse for us to quit work! Come, Ayrton, Neb, all of you, we want all hands to-day! I want our new Good Luck—we will keep the name, will we not?—to be moored in Balloon Harbor before two months are passed! So there is not an hour to be lost!”

All the colonists went down to the shipyard and worked steadily all day without giving too much thought to the volcano, which could not be seen from the beach before Granite House. But once or twice heavy shadows obscured the sunlight, and, as the was day perfectly clear, it was evident that thick clouds of smoke were passing between the sun’s disc and the island. Smith and Spilett noticed these sombre voyagers, and talked of the progress that the volcanic phenomenon was making, but they did not cease work. It was, moreover, of great importance, in every sense, that the ship should be finished with as little delay as possible. In the presence of events which might happen, the security of the colonists would be better assured. Who could say but that this ship might not, some day, be their sole refuge?

That evening, after supper, Smith, Spilett, and Herbert climbed to the plateau. It was already dark, and they would be able to distinguish whether flames or incandescent matter was mingled with the smoke and vapor of the volcano.

“The crater is on fire!” cried Herbert, who, more active than his companions, had reached the plateau the first.

Mount Franklin, six miles distant, appeared like a gigantic torch, with fuliginous flames