Chapter V

The first care of Pencroff was to make the Chimneys habitable. One narrow, winding passage was arranged to carry out the smoke and to quicken the draught of the fire. The Chimneys were divided into three or four chambers. They were dry, and one could stand up in them, or at least in the principal one, which was in the centre. The floor was covered with sand. While working, Herbert and Pencroff chatted together.

“Perhaps,” said the boy, “our companions found a better place than ours.”

“It is possible,” answered the sailor, “but, until we know, don’t let us stop. Better have two houses than none at all!”

“Oh,” said Herbert, “if they can only find Mr. Smith, and bring him back with them, how thankful we will be!”

“Yes,” murmured Pencroff. “He was a good man.”

“Was!” said Herbert. “Do you think we will not see him again?”

“Heaven forbid!” replied the sailor.

Once the work was accomplished, Pencroff declared himself satisfied.

“Now,” said he, “our friends may return, and they will find a good shelter.”

It was 5 o’clock when they returned again to the Chimneys. Towards 6 o’clock, just as the sun was disappearing behind the high land in the west, Herbert, who was walking back and forth upon the shore, announced the return of Neb and Gideon Spilett. They came back alone. The sailor was right: they could not find the engineer.

The reporter, when he came up, seated himself upon a rock, without speaking. Fainting from fatigue, half dead with hunger, he was unable to utter a word. Neb’s reddened eyes showed that he was weeping and lost all hope.

The reporter gave the history of their search. Neb and he had followed the coast for more than eight miles. The shore was deserted. Not a trace upon the sand, not a footprint, was upon the shore. It was evident that nobody inhabited that portion of the island.

At that moment Neb raised his head, and exclaimed:

“No, he is not dead! It is impossible! He is a man who can get out of anything!”

Herbert ran to him and cried:

“Neb, we will find him; God will give him back to us; but please eat something.”

And the lad offered the poor servant a handful of shell-fish. But Neb refused them. Poor fellow! Deprived of his master, he wished no longer to live.

As to Gideon Spilett, he devoured the mollusks, and then laid down upon the sand at the foot of a rock. He was exhausted, but calm. Herbert, approaching him, took his hand.

“Mr. Spilett,” said he, “we have discovered a shelter where you will be more comfortable. The night is coming on; so come and rest there. Tomorrow we will see.”

The reporter rose, and, guided by the lad, proceeded towards the Chimneys.

Pencroff took the match and made some fire. Two dozen eggs were brought by Herbert, and the reporter, seated in a corner, watched them without speaking. Did Cyrus still live? If alive, where was he?

In a few minutes the food was ready, and the sailor invited the reporter to take part in the supper. This was the first meal of the castaways upon this unknown coast. The hard eggs were excellent.

Thus passed the 25th of March. The reporter had retired to a dark corner. Herbert fell asleep at once. The sailor passed the night by the fire. Neb wandered upon the sands calling for his master.

Chapter VI

The castaways had nothing but the clothes they wore in the balloon. Spilett had a watch and a note-book; but there were no firearms and no tools, not even a pocket knife. They had thrown everything overboard to lighten the balloon. The castaways could rely on Providence only, and on their own hands.

It seemed to Pencroff that it was better to wait a few days before undertaking an exploration. They had to try to procure more satisfying food than eggs and shellfish. It was decided then to wait a few days at the Chimneys, and to prepare for an expedition either along the coast or into the interior of the land.

This plan was especially agreeable to Neb, who did not believe that Smith was dead. Upon the morning of the 26th of March, at daybreak, Neb started along the coast northward.

For breakfast that morning they had only eggs and lithodomes, with salt which Herbert had found in the cavities of the rocks. When the meal was over they divided forces. The reporter stayed behind to keep up the fire, while Herbert and Pencroff went into the forest.

“We will go hunting, Herbert,” said the sailor. “We will cut our guns in the forest.”

At 9 o’clock the weather was threatening and the breeze blew from the southeast. When Herbert and Pencroff reached the forest, Pencroff broke from a tree two thick branches which he made into cudgels. The sailor carefully observed the character and peculiarities of the region. On this left bank the surface was flat, rising insensibly towards the interior. Sometimes it was moist and swampy. The opposite bank was more undulating, and the valley was more clearly defined. The hill, covered with trees, rising in terraces, intercepted the vision. They could hardly walk along the right bank, for the descent was steep, and the trees were only sustained by their roots. It is needless to say that both forest and shore seemed a virgin wilderness. They even saw fresh traces of animals whose species was unknown to them.

They hardly spoke, and their hunting was fruitless. Birds were singing and flying to and fro under the trees; but they showed an instinctive fear of their enemy man. Among fir trees was fluttering a flock of birds, with small bodies and long, glittering tails.

“These are couroucous,” said Herbert. “They are good to eat; their meat is delicious. Besides, I think we can easily get at them with our sticks.”

They reached the foot of a tree. Using their sticks like a scythe, they mowed down whole rows of the couroucous, of whom 105 were knocked over before the stupid birds thought of escape.

Their route was indicated by the river; they followed it downward, and by 6 o’clock Herbert and Pencroff re-entered the Chimneys.

Chapter VII

Gideon Spilett stood motionless upon the shore, gazing on the sea, whose horizon was darkened. The wind, already strong, was freshening, and the heavens had an angry look. Pencroff began to prepare dinner. At 7 o’clock Neb was still absent.

The storm began. A furious gust of wind passed over the coast from the southeast. At 8 o’clock Neb had not returned. The birds were all they had for supper, but the party found them excellent eating. Pencroff and Herbert devoured them. Then each one retired to his corner, and Herbert was soon asleep.

It was about 2 o’clock when Pencroff was suddenly aroused from a deep sleep. The reporter was shaking him.

“What’s the matter?” Pencroff cried.

The reporter was bending over him and saying:

“Listen, Pencroff, listen!”

The sailor listened, but could hear nothing interesting.

“It is the wind,” he said.

“No,” answered Spilett, “listen again! I think I heard…”

“What?”

“The barking of a dog!”

“A dog!” cried Pencroff, springing to his feet.

“Yes, the barking.”

“Impossible!” answered the sailor.

“Wait and listen,” said the reporter.

Pencroff listened most attentively, and at length he caught the sound of distant barking.

“Is it?” asked the reporter.

“Yes, yes!” said Pencroff.

“It is Top! It is Top!” cried Herbert, who had just wakened, and the three rushed to the entrance of the Chimneys. The darkness was absolute. Sea, sky, and earth, were one intense blackness.

For some moments the reporter and his two companions stood in this place, drenched by the rain, blinded by the sand. Then again, in the hush of the storm, they heard, far away, the barking of a dog. This must be Top. But was he alone or accompanied?

It was indeed Top. But he was alone! Neither his master nor Neb accompanied him. It seemed inexplicable how, through the darkness and storm, the dog’s instinct had directed him to the Chimneys. Herbert had drawn him towards him, patting his head; and the dog rubbed his neck against the lad’s hands.

“If the dog is found, the master will be found also,” said the reporter.

“Top will guide us!” responded Herbert.

Pencroff made no objection. The tempest was, perhaps, at its maximum intensity. It was difficult to follow a straight course. The better way, therefore, was to trust to the instinct of Top. The reporter and the lad walked behind the dog, and the sailor followed after. To speak was impossible. The rain was not heavy, but the strength of the storm was terrible.

They felt, no doubt, that Neb had found his master and had sent the faithful dog to them. But was the engineer living or dead?

“Saved! He is saved! Isn’t he, Top?” repeated the boy. And the dog barked his answer.

By 4 o’clock they estimated the distance travelled as eight miles. The clouds had risen a little, and the wind was drier and colder. No murmur passed their lips. They were determined to follow Top wherever he wished to lead them.

Towards 5 o’clock the day began to break. The sailor and his companions were some six miles from the Chimneys, following a very flat shore. Top ran ahead, returned, and seemed to try to hurry them on. The dog had left the coast, and had gone among the downs. The border of the downs was composed of hills and hillocks. It was like a little Switzerland of sand, but a dog’s astonishing instinct could find the way.

Five minutes after the reporter and his companions reached a sort of hollow, before which Top stopped with a loud bark. The three entered the cave. Neb was there, kneeling beside a body extended upon a bed of grass. It was the body of Cyrus Smith.