Chapter XXVI

“The poor man!” said Herbert, returning from the door.

“He will come back,” said Smith.

“What does it mean?” exclaimed Pencroff. “That he had not thrown this bottle into the sea? Then who did it?”

“In truth,” said Spilett, “these things are incredible. Your rescue, the box thrown up on the beach, Top’s adventures, and now this bottle. Will we never have an answer to these enigmas?”

“Yes,” answered the engineer. “I will have an answer some day!”

January arrived, and the year 1867 began. Ayrton occupied himself with the large herd. Smith determined to place the corral in instant communication with Granite House. It was the 10th of January when he told his project to his companions.

“How are you going to do such a thing as that?” asked Pencroff. “Maybe you propose to erect a telegraph!”

“That is precisely what I propose to do.”

“Electric?” exclaimed Herbert.

“Electric,” responded Smith. “We have everything necessary for making a battery, and the most difficult part will be to make the wires, but I think we can succeed.”

“Well, after this,” replied the sailor, “someday we will ride along on a railway!

They entered upon the work at once, beginning with the most difficult part, that is to say, manufacturing the wires. Smith began by making a steel plate, pierced with conical holes of different sizes, which would bring the wire to the desired size. This piece of steel was fixed firmly to a solid frame-work sunk in the ground, only a few feet distant from the waterfall, its motive power the engineer intended to use.

The operation was delicate and required great care. Two batteries had been made, one for Granite House, and the other for the corral, as, if the corral had to communicate with Granite House, it might, also, be needful for Granite House to communicate with the corral.

Everything was finished by the 12th of February. On that day Smith asked if everything was all right at the corral, and received, in a few moments, a satisfactory reply from Ayrton. Pencroff was beside himself with delight, and every morning and evening he sent a telegraph to the corral, which never remained unanswered.

The resources of the colony, particularly in vegetables and cereals, increased from day to day, and the plants brought from Tabor Island had been perfectly acclimated. The plateau presented a most attractive appearance. The fourth crop of corn had been excellent.

The weather was superb, though somewhat warm during the day; but, in the evening, the seabreeze sprung up. Still there were some storms, which, although not long continued.

This was a season of great prosperity to the little colony. The denizens of the poultry-yard increased rapidly, and it was necessary to keep the population within certain limits.

The colonists waged war against the jaguars, for which Spilett had a special hatred. The courage of Herbert was superb, while the coolness of the reporter was astonishing. Twenty magnificent skins already ornamented the hall at Granite House.

The heat of the summer ended. The season was rainy, but the air was still warm, and the month was not as pleasant as they had expected. One morning, Herbert had risen early, and, looking from the window, exclaimed:

“Hullo, the islet is covered with snow!”

“Snow at this season!” cried the reporter.

Jup had scarcely touched the earth before the immense body of snow rose and scattered itself through the air.

“They are birds!” cried Herbert.

A few days later, and it was the 26th of March. Two years had passed since the balloon had been thrown upon Lincoln Island.

Chapter XXVII

Two years already! For two years the colonists had no communication with their fellows! They knew no more of what was happening in the world, lost upon this island.

What was going on in their country? Their fatherland was always present to their eyes. During these two years not a ship had been seen. It was evident that Lincoln Island was out of the route of vessels. The surrounding sea was always desert, and the colonists could count on no outside help to bring them to their home.

Nevertheless, one chance of rescue existed. In the first week of April the colonists were gathered in the hall of Granite House. They had been talking of America and of the small hope of ever seeing it again.

“Undoubtedly, there is but one way of leaving the island,” said Spilett, “which is to build a vessel large enough to make a voyage of some hundreds of miles. It seems to me, that, when one can build a shallop, they can readily build a ship.”

“Remember, moreover, that we have another sailor with us now,” said Neb.

“Who do you mean?” asked Pencroff.

“Ayrton.”

“That is true,” responded Herbert.

“If he would join us,” remarked Pencroff.

“You forget, my friends,” said Smith, “that Ayrton was not himself during the last few years there. But that is not the question. Lord Glenarvan promised Ayrton that he would return to Tabor Island, when he judged his crimes sufficiently punished, and I believe that he will return.”

“Yes,” said the reporter, “and, moreover, I think he will return soon, as already Ayrton has been here twelve years!”

“In the first fine weather of October,” replied the engineer, “we will go to Tabor Island and leave a notice there.”

“By the way, Cyrus,” said Spilett, “we have never thanked you for that; but indeed, without that fire we would not have reached Lincoln Island when we were coming back from Tabor Island.”

“A fire?” demanded Smith, astounded by the words of the reporter.

“We wish to say, sir,” said Pencroff, “that you had taken the precaution to light a fire, on the night of the 19th of October, upon the plateau above Granite House, when we were coming back.”

“Oh, yes, yes! It was a happy thought!” replied Smith.

And a moment or two later the engineer whispered to Spilett:

“Dear Spilett, I never lit a fire on that night, either on the plateau or anywhere else!”

It was the 28th of October. Spring was rapidly approaching, and the young leaves were appearing on the trees on the edge of the forest. Herbert, tempted by the beauty of the day, determined to take a photograph of Union Bay.

It was 3 o’clock, the horizon was perfectly clear. The instrument had been placed at one of the windows of Granite House, and the lad took the picture. When he later looked at the picture, he saw a speck on the plate.

“It is a defect in the glass,” he thought.

And then he was seized by a curiosity to examine this speck by means of a magnifying glass made from one of the lenses of the instrument. Hardly had he given one look, when, uttering a cry of amazement, he ran with the plate and the glass to Smith. The latter examined the speck, and immediately seizing the spy-glass hurried to the window.

The engineer, sweeping the horizon with the glass, found the speck, and spoke one word.

“A ship!”

In truth, a ship was in sight of Lincoln Island.

Chapter XXVIII

Two years and a half ago the castaways had been thrown on Lincoln Island. Once the reporter had attempted to establish communication with the civilized world by a letter tied to the neck of a bird; but this was useless. And now, on the 17th of October, other men had appeared within sight of the island, on that desert sea! There could be no doubt of it; there was a ship. Smith and Herbert hastened to call the others into the great hall of Granite House, and inform them of what he had seen. Pencroff seized the spy-glass and swept the horizon.

“No doubt of it, it’s a ship!” said he.

“Is it coming towards us?” asked Spilett.

“Impossible to say yet,” replied Pencroff, “for only its sails are visible; its hull is below the horizon.”

“What must we do?” said the boy.

“We must wait,” said Smith.

The colonists stood in silence, moved alternately by fear and hope. They were not in the situation of castaways upon a desert island. Pencroff and Neb, especially, would quit the island with great regret. Still, this ship would bring them news of the Continent; perhaps it was an American vessel; assuredly it carried men of their own race!

From time to time, Pencroff went to the window with the glass. From there he examined the ship carefully. It was still twenty miles to the east, and they had no means of communication with it.

“May it not be the Duncan?” cried Herbert.

“We must warn Ayrton,” said Spilett. “Only he can tell us whether it is the Duncan or not.”

The reporter went to the telegraph apparatus, which communicated with the corral, and telegraphed: “Come at once”. Soon came the answer: “I am coming”. Then the colonists turned again to watch the ship.

“If it is the Duncan,” said Herbert, “Ayrton will readily recognize it.”

Smith, after reflection, said in his usual calm tone:

“What we must do, my friends, is this. We will open communication with the ship, and leave our island. Afterwards we will return with a group of permanent colonists!”

“Good!” said Pencroff. “That will be a good present to our country! We have really colonized it already. We have named every part of the island; there is a natural port, a supply of fresh water, roads, a line of telegraph, a wood yard, a foundry; we need only put the island on the maps!”

About 4 o’clock Ayrton arrived. Smith shook hands with him, and, drawing him to the window, said:

“Ayrton, a ship is within sight of the island.”

For a moment Ayrton looked pale, and his eyes were troubled.

“Take this spy-glass,” said Spilett, “and look well, Ayrton.”

“The Duncan!” murmured Ayrton. “Already!”

The last word escaped him involuntarily and he buried his face in his hands.

Ayrton took the glass and for some minutes observed the horizon in silence. Then he said:

“Yes, it is a ship, but I do not think it is the Duncan.”

“Why not?” asked Spilett.

“Because the Duncan is a steam-yacht, and I see no trace of smoke about this vessel.”

Just then the ship drove straight towards the island. Ayrton took the glass again to try to ascertain whether or not it was the Duncan. The ship was now only ten miles off, and the horizon was clear. Ayrton looked for a moment, and then dropped his glass.

“It is not the Duncan,” said he.

The daylight began to fail, and the brig’s flag wrapped itself around the tackle.

“It is not the American flag,” said Pencroff, “nor the English, nor the French, nor German colors, nor the white flag of Russia, nor the yellow flag of Spain. The Brazilian is green; the Japanese is black and yellow; while this…”

Ayrton took the glass and raised it to his eyes.

“Black!” cried he, in a hollow voice.

The pirate flag was fluttering at the peak!

“My friends,” said Smith, “this vessel, perhaps, is only taking observations of the coast of our island, and will send no boats on shore. We must do all we can to hide our presence here. The mill on Prospect Plateau is too conspicuous. Let Ayrton and Neb go at once and take down its fans. We must cover the windows of Granite House under thicker branches.

“And our sloop?” said Herbert.

“Oh,” said Pencroff, “it is safe in port in Balloon Harbor!”

The engineer’s orders were instantly carried out. Neb and Ayrton went up to the plateau and concealed every trace of human habitation. At the same time their arms and munitions were piled ready at hand, in case of a sudden attack. When all these precautions had been taken Smith turned to his comrades

“My friends,” said he, “if these wretches try to get possession of the island we will defend it, will we not?”

“Yes, Cyrus,” answered the reporter, “and, if need be, we will die in its defense.”

Ayrton remained seated in his corner.

“And what will you do, Ayrton?”

“My duty,” replied Ayrton.

Then he went to the window. It was then half past 7 o’clock. The sun had set behind Granite House twenty minutes before, and the eastern horizon was darkening. The brig was nearing Union Bay. Night had come. Thick masses of clouds were spread over the sky. Nothing could be seen of the vessel.

“Who knows?” said Pencroff. “Perhaps the confounded ship will be off by morning.”

His speech was answered by a brilliant flash, and the sound of a gun. The ship was there, and it had artillery. And it was about a mile and a quarter from the shore.