They were divers, easily recognized by their cry, which much resembles the braying of a donkey.Pencroft only considered them in an eatable point of view, and learnt with some satisfaction that their flesh, though blackish, is not bad food.
Great amphibious creatures could also be seen crawling on the sand;seals, doubtless, who appeared to have chosen the islet for a place of refuge.It was impossible to think of those animals in an alimentary point of view, for their oily flesh is detestable; however, Cyrus Harding observed them attentively, and without making known his idea, he announced to his companions that very soon they would pay a visit to the islet.The beach was strewn with innumerable shells, some of which would have rejoiced the heart of a conchologist; there were, among others, the phasianella, the terebratual, etc.But what would be of more use, was the discovery, by Neb, at low tide, of a large oysterbed among the rocks, nearly five miles from the Chimneys.
"Neb will not have lost his day," cried Pencroft, looking at the spacious oyster-bed.
"It is really a fortunate discovery," said the reporter, "and as it is said that each oyster produces yearly from fifty to sixty thousand eggs, we shall have an inexhaustible supply there.""Only I believe that the oyster is not very nourishing," said Herbert.
"No," replied Harding."The oyster contains very little nitrogen, and if a man lived exclusively on them, he would have to eat not less than fifteen to sixteen dozen a day.""Capital!" replied Pencroft."We might swallow dozens and dozens without exhausting the bed.Shall we take some for breakfast?"And without waiting for a reply to this proposal, knowing that it would be approved of, the sailor and Neb detached a quantity of the molluscs.
They put them in a sort of net of hibiscus fiber, which Neb had manufactured, and which already contained food; they then continued to climb the coast between the downs and the sea.
From time to time Harding consulted his watch, so as to be prepared in time for the solar observation, which had to be made exactly at midday.
All that part of the island was very barren as far as the point which closed Union Bay, and which had received the name of Cape South Mandible.
Nothing could be seen there but sand and shells, mingled with debris of lava.A few sea-birds frequented this desolate coast, gulls, great albatrosses, as well as wild duck, for which Pencroft had a great fancy.He tried to knock some over with an arrow, but without result, for they seldom perched, and he could not hit them on the wing.
This led the sailor to repeat to the engineer,--"You see, captain, so long as we have not one or two fowling-pieces, we shall never get anything!""Doubtless, Pencroft," replied the reporter, "but it depends on you.
Procure us some iron for the barrels, steel for the hammers, saltpeter.
coal and sulphur for powder, mercury and nitric acid for the fulminate, and lead for the shot, and the captain will make us first-rate guns.""Oh!" replied the engineer, "we might, no doubt, find all these substances on the island, but a gun is a delicate instrument, and needs very particular tools.However, we shall see later!""Why," cried Pencroft, "were we obliged to throw overboard all the weapons we had with us in the car, all our implements, even our pocket-knives?"
"But if we had not thrown them away, Pencroft, the balloon would have thrown us to the bottom of the sea!" said Herbert.
"What you say is true, my boy," replied the sailor.
Then passing to another idea,--"Think," said he, "how astounded Jonathan Forster and his companions must have been when, next morning, they found the place empty, and the machine flown away!""I am utterly indifferent about knowing what they may have thought," said the reporter.
"It was all my idea, that!" said Pencroft, with a satisfied air.
"A splendid idea, Pencroft!" replied Gideon Spilett, laughing, "and which has placed us where we are.""I would rather be here than in the hands of the Southerners," cried the sailor, "especially since the captain has been kind enough to come and join us again.""So would I, truly!" replied the reporter."Besides, what do we want?
Nothing."
"If that is not--everything!" replied Pencroft, laughing and shrugging his shoulders."But, some day or other, we shall find means of going away!""Sooner, perhaps, than you imagine, my friends," remarked the engineer, "if Lincoln Island is but a medium distance from an inhabited island, or from a continent.We shall know in an hour.I have not a map of the Pacific, but my memory has preserved a very clear recollection of its southern part.The latitude which I obtained yesterday placed New Zealand to the west of Lincoln Island, and the coast of Chile to the east.But between these two countries, there is a distance of at least six thousand miles.It has, therefore, to be determined what point in this great space the island occupies, and this the longitude will give us presently, with a sufficient approximation, I hope.""Is not the archipelago of the Pomoutous the nearest point to us in latitude?" asked Herbert.
"Yes," replied the engineer, "but the distance which separates us from it is more than twelve hundred miles.""And that way?" asked Neb, who followed the conversation with extreme interest, pointing to the south.
"That way, nothing," replied Pencroft.
"Nothing, indeed," added the engineer.
