Off on a Comet (16 page)

"Well, then, Nina, can you tell us where we are?"

"At Madalena, I think," said the little girl; "at least, I know I was
there when that dreadful shock came and altered everything."

The count knew that Madalena was close to Caprera, to the north of
Sardinia, which had entirely disappeared in the disaster. By dint of a
series of questions, he gained from the child a very intelligent account
of her experiences. She told him that she had no parents, and had been
employed in taking care of a flock of goats belonging to one of the
landowners, when one day, all of a sudden, everything around her, except
this little piece of land, had been swallowed up, and that she and
Marzy, her pet goat, had been left quite alone. She went on to say that
at first she had been very frightened; but when she found that the earth
did not shake any more, she had thanked the great God, and had soon made
herself very happy living with Marzy. She had enough food, she said, and
had been waiting for a boat to fetch her, and now a boat had come and
she was quite ready to go away; only they must let her goat go with her:
they would both like so much to get back to the old farm.

"Here, at least, is one nice little inhabitant of Gallia," said Captain
Servadac, as he caressed the child and conducted her to the boat.

Half an hour later, both Nina and Marzy were safely quartered on board
the yacht. It is needless to say that they received the heartiest of
welcomes. The Russian sailors, ever superstitious, seemed almost to
regard the coming of the child as the appearance of an angel; and,
incredible as it may seem, more than one of them wondered whether she
had wings, and amongst themselves they commonly referred to her as "the
little Madonna."

Soon out of sight of Madalena, the
Dobryna
for some hours held a
southeasterly course along the shore, which here was fifty leagues in
advance of the former coast-line of Italy, demonstrating that a new
continent must have been formed, substituted as it were for the old
peninsula, of which not a vestige could be identified. At a latitude
corresponding with the latitude of Rome, the sea took the form of a deep
gulf, extending back far beyond the site of the Eternal City; the
coast making a wide sweep round to the former position of Calabria, and
jutting far beyond the outline of "the boot," which Italy resembles.
But the beacon of Messina was not to be discerned; no trace, indeed,
survived of any portion of Sicily; the very peak of Etna, 11,000 feet as
it had reared itself above the level of the sea, had vanished utterly.

Another sixty leagues to the south, and the
Dobryna
sighted the
entrance of the strait which had afforded her so providential a refuge
from the tempest, and had conducted her to the fragmentary relic of
Gibraltar. Hence to the Gulf of Cabes had been already explored, and as
it was universally allowed that it was unnecessary to renew the search
in that direction, the lieutenant started off in a transverse course,
towards a point hitherto uninvestigated. That point was reached on the
3rd of March, and thence the coast was continuously followed, as it led
through what had been Tunis, across the province of Constantine, away
to the oasis of Ziban; where, taking a sharp turn, it first reached a
latitude of 32 degrees, and then returned again, thus forming a sort
of irregular gulf, enclosed by the same unvarying border of mineral
concrete. This colossal boundary then stretched away for nearly 150
leagues over the Sahara desert, and, extending to the south of Gourbi
Island, occupied what, if Morocco had still existed, would have been its
natural frontier.

Adapting her course to these deviations of the coastline, the
Dobryna
was steering northwards, and had barely reached the limit of the bay,
when the attention of all on board was arrested by the phenomenon of a
volcano, at least 3,000 feet high, its crater crowned with smoke, which
occasionally was streaked by tongues of flame.

"A burning mountain!" they exclaimed.

"Gallia, then, has some internal heat," said Servadac.

"And why not, captain?" rejoined the lieutenant. "If our asteroid has
carried with it a portion of the old earth's atmosphere, why should it
not likewise retain something of its central fire?"

"Ah, well!" said the captain, shrugging his shoulders, "I dare say
there is caloric enough in our little world to supply the wants of its
population."

Count Timascheff interrupted the silence that followed this conversation
by saying, "And now, gentlemen, as our course has brought us on our
way once more towards Gibraltar, what do you say to our renewing our
acquaintance with the Englishmen? They will be interested in the result
of our voyage."

"For my part," said Servadac, "I have no desire that way. They know
where to find Gourbi Island; they can betake themselves thither just
when they please. They have plenty of provisions. If the water freezes,
120 leagues is no very great distance. The reception they gave us was
not so cordial that we need put ourselves out of the way to repeat our
visit."

"What you say is too true," replied the count. "I hope we shall show
them better manners when they condescend to visit us."

"Ay," said Servadac, "we must remember that we are all one people now;
no longer Russian, French, or English. Nationality is extinct."

"I am sadly afraid, however," continued the count, "that an Englishman
will be an Englishman ever."

"Yes," said the captain, "that is always their failing."

And thus all further thought of making their way again to the little
garrison of Gibraltar was abandoned.

But even if their spirit of courtesy had disposed them to renew their
acquaintance with the British officers, there were two circumstances
that just then would have rendered such a proposal very unadvisable. In
the first place, Lieutenant Procope was convinced that it could not be
much longer now before the sea would be entirely frozen; and, besides
this, the consumption of their coal, through the speed they had
maintained, had been so great that there was only too much reason
to fear that fuel would fail them. Anyhow, the strictest economy was
necessary, and it was accordingly resolved that the voyage should not be
much prolonged. Beyond the volcanic peak, moreover, the waters seemed to
expand into a boundless ocean, and it might be a thing full of risk to
be frozen up while the yacht was so inadequately provisioned. Taking
all these things into account, it was agreed that further investigations
should be deferred to a more favorable season, and that, without delay,
the
Dobryna
should return to Gourbi Island.

This decision was especially welcome to Hector Servadac, who, throughout
the whole of the last five weeks, had been agitated by much anxious
thought on account of the faithful servant he had left behind.

The transit from the volcano to the island was not long, and was marked
by only one noticeable incident. This was the finding of a second
mysterious document, in character precisely similar to what they had
found before. The writer of it was evidently engaged upon a calculation,
probably continued from day to day, as to the motions of the planet
Gallia upon its orbit, and committing the results of his reckonings to
the waves as the channel of communication.

Instead of being enclosed in a telescope-case, it was this time secured
in a preserved-meat tin, hermetically sealed, and stamped with the same
initials on the wax that fastened it. The greatest care was used in
opening it, and it was found to contain the following message:

"Gallia Ab sole, au 1 mars, dist. 78,000,000 l.! Chemin parcouru de fev.
a mars: 59,000,000 1.!
Va bene! All right! Nil desperandum!

"Enchante!"

"Another enigma!" exclaimed Servadac; "and still no intelligible
signature, and no address. No clearing up of the mystery!"

"I have no doubt, in my own mind," said the count, "that it is one of a
series. It seems to me probable that they are being sent broadcast upon
the sea."

"I wonder where the hare-brained
savant
that writes them can be
living?" observed Servadac.

"Very likely he may have met with the fate of AEsop's abstracted
astronomer, who found himself at the bottom of a well."

"Ay; but where
is
that well?" demanded the captain.

This was a question which the count was incapable of settling; and they
could only speculate afresh as to whether the author of the riddles was
dwelling upon some solitary island, or, like themselves, was navigating
the waters of the new Mediterranean. But they could detect nothing to
guide them to a definite decision.

After thoughtfully regarding the document for some time. Lieutenant
Procope proceeded to observe that he believed the paper might be
considered as genuine, and accordingly, taking its statements as
reliable, he deduced two important conclusions: first, that whereas,
in the month of January, the distance traveled by the planet
(hypothetically called Gallia) had been recorded as 82,000,000 leagues,
the distance traveled in February was only 59,000,000 leagues—a
difference of 23,000,000 leagues in one month; secondly, that the
distance of the planet from the sun, which on the 15th of February had
been 59,000,000 leagues, was on the 1st of March 78,000,000 leagues—an
increase of 19,000,000 leagues in a fortnight. Thus, in proportion as
Gallia receded from the sun, so did the rate of speed diminish by which
she traveled along her orbit; facts to be observed in perfect conformity
with the known laws of celestial mechanism.

"And your inference?" asked the count.

"My inference," replied the lieutenant, "is a confirmation of my surmise
that we are following an orbit decidedly elliptical, although we have
not yet the material to determine its eccentricity."

"As the writer adheres to the appellation of Gallia, do you not think,"
asked the count, "that we might call these new waters the Gallian Sea?"

"There can be no reason to the contrary, count," replied the lieutenant;
"and as such I will insert it upon my new chart."

"Our friend," said Servadac, "seems to be more and more gratified
with the condition of things; not only has he adopted our motto, '
Nil
desperandum!
' but see how enthusiastically he has wound up with his
'
Enchante!
'"

The conversation dropped.

A few hours later the man on watch announced that Gourbi Island was in
sight.

The
Dobryna
was now back again at the island. Her cruise had lasted
from the 31st of January to the 5th of March, a period of thirty-five
days (for it was leap year), corresponding to seventy days as
accomplished by the new little world.

Many a time during his absence Hector Servadac had wondered how his
present vicissitudes would end, and he had felt some misgivings as
to whether he should ever again set foot upon the island, and see
his faithful orderly, so that it was not without emotion that he had
approached the coast of the sole remaining fragment of Algerian soil.
But his apprehensions were groundless; Gourbi Island was just as he had
left it, with nothing unusual in its aspect, except that a very peculiar
cloud was hovering over it, at an altitude of little more than a hundred
feet. As the yacht approached the shore, this cloud appeared to rise and
fall as if acted upon by some invisible agency, and the captain, after
watching it carefully, perceived that it was not an accumulation of
vapors at all, but a dense mass of birds packed as closely together as
a swarm of herrings, and uttering deafening and discordant cries,
amidst which from time to time the noise of the report of a gun could be
plainly distinguished.

The
Dobryna
signalized her arrival by firing her cannon, and dropped
anchor in the little port of the Shelif. Almost within a minute Ben Zoof
was seen running, gun in hand, towards the shore; he cleared the last
ridge of rocks at a single bound, and then suddenly halted. For a
few seconds he stood motionless, his eyes fixed, as if obeying the
instructions of a drill sergeant, on a point some fifteen yards distant,
his whole attitude indicating submission and respect; but the sight
of the captain, who was landing, was too much for his equanimity, and
darting forward, he seized his master's hand and covered it with kisses.
Instead, however, of uttering any expressions of welcome or rejoicing
at the captain's return, Ben Zoof broke out into the most vehement
ejaculations.

"Thieves, captain! beastly thieves! Bedouins! pirates! devils!"

"Why, Ben Zoof, what's the matter?" said Servadac soothingly.

"They are thieves! downright, desperate thieves! those infernal birds!
That's what's the matter. It is a good thing you have come. Here have
I for a whole month been spending my powder and shot upon them, and the
more I kill them, the worse they get; and yet, if I were to leave them
alone, we should not have a grain of corn upon the island."

It was soon evident that the orderly had only too much cause for alarm.
The crops had ripened rapidly during the excessive heat of January, when
the orbit of Gallia was being traversed at its perihelion, and were now
exposed to the depredations of many thousands of birds; and although
a goodly number of stacks attested the industry of Ben Zoof during
the time of the
Dobryna
's voyage, it was only too apparent that the
portion of the harvest that remained ungathered was liable to the most
imminent risk of being utterly devoured. It was, perhaps, only natural
that this clustered mass of birds, as representing the whole of the
feathered tribe upon the surface of Gallia, should resort to Gourbi
Island, of which the meadows seemed to be the only spot from which they
could get sustenance at all; but as this sustenance would be obtained
at the expense, and probably to the serious detriment, of the human
population, it was absolutely necessary that every possible resistance
should be made to the devastation that was threatened.