The Mysterious Island. Jules Verne
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that the engineer and the reporter would spend the day at the Chimneys examining the shore and the upper plateau. During this time, Neb, Harbert, and the sailor would return to the forest to renew the stockpile of wood and to lay hands on all beasts of feather or hair that would come within their reach.
They left about ten o’clock in the morning, Harbert confident, Neb joyful, and Pencroff mumbling to himself:
“If, on my return, I find fire, I’ll believe that thunder came in person to light it.”
All three went along the bank and arrived at the bend formed by the river. The sailor stopped and said to his companions: “Shall we begin by being hunters or woodsmen?”
“Hunters,” replied Harbert. “Top is already on the hunt.”
“Hunters then,” said the sailor. “Then we’ll return here to renew our supply of wood.”
That said, Harbert, Neb, and Pencroff tore off three sticks from the trunk of a young fir tree and followed Top who dashed in among the tall grass.
This time the hunters, instead of walking along the river’s edge, plunged directly into the depths of the forest. They still found the same trees belonging for the most part to the pine family. In certain less crowded areas, isolated in clusters, these pines were very large and seemed to indicate that this country was at a higher latitude than the engineer had conjectured. Some clearings, bristling with stumps rotted by time, were covered with dead wood, and formed an inexhaustible reserve of fuel. Then, beyond the clearing, the brushwood grew closer and became almost impenetrable.
Without a beaten path, it was rather difficult to find their way among these massive trees. From time to time the sailor marked out his route by breaking some boughs that would be easy to recognize. But perhaps they were wrong not to have followed the water’s course as Harbert and he had done during their first excursion because, after an hour’s march, they still had no game to show. Top, moving under low branches, only gave warning of birds they could not get near. The couroucous themselves were absolutely invisible, and it was likely that the sailor would be forced to return to that marshy part of the forest in which he had so fortunately used his fishing line to capture the grouse.
“Well, Pencroff,” said Neb in a sarcastic tone, “if this is all the game you’ve promised to bring back, it won’t take a very big fire to roast it.”
“Patience, Neb,” replied the sailor, “it won’t be game that will be lacking on our return.”
“Have you no confidence in Mr. Smith?”
“Certainly.”
“But you don’t believe he’ll make a fire?”
“I’ll believe it when the wood is burning on the hearth.”
“It will burn since my master has said so.”
“We’ll see.”
The sun had not yet reached its highest point in the sky. The exploration therefore continued and was marked by a useful discovery, made by Harbert, of a tree whose fruit is edible. It was the pine kernel which produces an excellent almond, highly esteemed in the temperate regions of America and Europe. These almonds were perfectly ripe, and Harbert pointed this out to his two companions who were delighted by it.
“Well,” said Pencroff, “we have algae to take the place of bread, mussels for meat, and almonds for dessert. What a meal for people who don’t have a single match in their pocket!”
“It’s no use complaining,” replied Harbert.
“I don’t complain, my boy” said Pencroff. “Only I repeat that meat is a little too scant in this type of meal.”
“Top has seen something! …” shouted Neb. He ran toward a thicket in which the barking dog had disappeared. Peculiar growls mingled with Top’s barks.
The sailor and Harbert followed Neb. If they had some game here, this was not the time to discuss how to cook it but how to capture it.
The hunters had barely entered the thicket when they saw Top holding an animal by an ear. This quadruped was a kind of pig about two and a half feet long, blackish brown but not as dark on the underside, having tough but thin hair. The animal’s toes, which were then gripping the ground, seemed to be united by membranes. Harbert thought he recognized this animal as a capybara, one of the largest rodents.2
They saw Top holding an animal.
However, the capybara was not struggling with the dog. It stupidly rolled its large eyes which were deeply imbedded in a thick layer of fat. Perhaps it was seeing men for the first time.
“Look!”
Neb, holding his stick firmly in his hand, ran to kill the rodent when the latter, being held only by the tip of his ear, tore himself away from Top’s teeth, gave a hearty grunt, plunged headlong on Harbert, knocking him half over, and disappeared into the woods.
“The rascal!” shouted Pencroff.
Immediately all three ran after Top and, just as they caught up to him, the capybara disappeared under the waters of a large pond shaded by some large old pines.
Neb, Harbert, and Pencroff stopped at the water’s edge. Top threw himself into the water, but the capybara, lying at the bottom of the pond, was no longer visible.
“Let’s wait,” said the lad, “because he’ll soon come to the surface to breathe.”
“Won’t he drown?” asked Neb.
“No,” replied Harbert, “since his feet are webbed and he’s almost an amphibian. But watch for him.”
Top continued to swim. Pencroff and his two companions each occupied a different point on the bank in order to cut off all retreat for the capybara while the dog searched as he swam on the surface of the pond.
Harbert was not mistaken. After a few minutes, the animal emerged from the waters. Top was after him in a bound and prevented him from plunging again. An instant later the capybara, dragged to the bank, was killed by a blow from Neb’s stick.
“Hurrah!” shouted Pencroff in triumph. “If we can only get a hot fire going, this rodent will be gnawed to the bone.”
Pencroff loaded the capybara on his shoulder and, judging by the height of the sun that it was about two o’clock, he gave the signal to return.
Top’s instinct was of great usefulness to the hunters. Thanks to the intelligent animal, they were able to find the road they had already traveled. A half hour later, they arrived at the bend in the river.
As he had done the first time, Pencroff quickly made a raft of wood—even though the lack of a fire made it seem like a useless task—and with the raft moving downstream, they returned to the Chimneys.
But the sailor had not gone fifty steps when he stopped, once again let out a formidable hurrah, and pointed toward the corner of the cliff.
“Harbert! Neb! Look!” he shouted.
Smoke was rising and swirling above the rocks!
CHAPTER X
Several moments later, the three hunters found themselves in front of a crackling hearth. Cyrus Smith and the reporter were there. Pencroff looked from one to the other without saying a word, his capybara in hand.
“Yes indeed, my good fellow,” shouted the reporter.
“Fire, real fire, that will perfectly roast this magnificent game which we’ll feast on within the hour.”
“But who kindled it? …” asked Pencroff.
“The