The Mysterious Island (79 page)

"Nonsense! Lincoln Island, it can't be!" cried Pencroft, who, in spite
of the respect he felt for Cyrus Harding, could not prevent a gesture of
incredulity.

"Listen, Pencroft," resumed the engineer, "I will tell you what Captain
Nemo communicated to me, and which I myself confirmed yesterday, during
the exploration of Dakkar Grotto.

"This cavern stretches under the island as far as the volcano, and is
only separated from its central shaft by the wall which terminates it.
Now, this wall is seamed with fissures and clefts which already allow
the sulphurous gases generated in the interior of the volcano to
escape."

"Well?" said Pencroft, his brow suddenly contracting.

"Well, then, I saw that these fissures widen under the internal pressure
from within, that the wall of basalt is gradually giving way and that
after a longer or shorter period it will afford a passage to the waters
of the lake which fill the cavern."

"Good!" replied Pencroft, with an attempt at pleasantry. "The sea will
extinguish the volcano, and there will be an end of the matter!"

"Not so!" said Cyrus Harding, "should a day arrive when the sea, rushing
through the wall of the cavern, penetrates by the central shaft into the
interior of the island to the boiling lava, Lincoln Island will that day
be blown into the air—just as would happen to the island of Sicily were
the Mediterranean to precipitate itself into Mount Etna."

The colonists made no answer to these significant words of the engineer.
They now understood the danger by which they were menaced.

It may be added that Cyrus Harding had in no way exaggerated the danger
to be apprehended. Many persons have formed an idea that it would be
possible to extinguish volcanoes, which are almost always situated on
the shores of a sea or lake, by opening a passage for the admission of
the water. But they are not aware that this would be to incur the risk
of blowing up a portion of the globe, like a boiler whose steam is
suddenly expanded by intense heat. The water, rushing into a cavity
whose temperature might be estimated at thousands of degrees, would
be converted into steam with a sudden energy which no enclosure could
resist.

It was not therefore doubtful that the island, menaced by a frightful
and approaching convulsion, would endure only so long as the wall
of Dakkar Grotto itself should endure. It was not even a question of
months, nor of weeks, but of days; it might be of hours.

The first sentiment which the colonists felt was that of profound
sorrow. They thought not so much of the peril which menaced themselves
personally, but of the destruction of the island which had sheltered
them, which they had cultivated, which they loved so well, and had hoped
to render so flourishing. So much effort ineffectually expended, so much
labor lost.

Pencroft could not prevent a large tear from rolling down his cheek, nor
did he attempt to conceal it.

Some further conversation now took place. The chances yet in favor of
the colonists were discussed; but finally it was agreed that there was
not an hour to be lost, that the building and fitting of the vessel
should be pushed forward with their utmost energy, and that this was the
sole chance of safety for the inhabitants of Lincoln Island.

All hands, therefore, set to work on the vessel. What could it avail
to sow, to reap, to hunt, to increase the stores of Granite House?
The contents of the storehouse and outbuildings contained more than
sufficient to provide the ship for a voyage, however long might be its
duration. But it was imperative that the ship should be ready to receive
them before the inevitable catastrophe should arrive.

Their labors were now carried on with feverish ardor. By the 23rd of
January the vessel was half-decked over. Up to this time no change had
taken place on the summit of the volcano. Vapor and smoke mingled with
flames and incandescent stones were thrown up from the crater. But
during the night of the 23rd, in consequence of the lava attaining the
level of the first stratum of the volcano, the hat-shaped cone which
formed over the latter disappeared. A frightful sound was heard. The
colonists at first thought the island was rent asunder, and rushed out
of Granite House.

This occurred about two o'clock in the morning.

The sky appeared on fire. The superior cone, a mass of rock a thousand
feet in height, and weighing thousands of millions of pounds, had
been thrown down upon the island, making it tremble to its foundation.
Fortunately, this cone inclined to the north, and had fallen upon the
plain of sand and tufa stretching between the volcano and the sea. The
aperture of the crater being thus enlarged projected towards the sky a
glare so intense that by the simple effect of reflection the atmosphere
appeared red-hot. At the same time a torrent of lava, bursting from the
new summit, poured out in long cascades, like water escaping from a vase
too full, and a thousand tongues of fire crept over the sides of the
volcano.

"The corral! the corral!" exclaimed Ayrton.

It was, in fact, towards the corral that the lava was rushing as the
new crater faced the east, and consequently the fertile portions of the
island, the springs of Red Creek and Jacamar Wood, were menaced with
instant destruction.

At Ayrton's cry the colonists rushed to the onagers' stables. The cart
was at once harnessed. All were possessed by the same thought—to hasten
to the corral and set at liberty the animals it enclosed.

Before three in the morning they arrived at the corral. The cries of the
terrified musmons and goats indicated the alarm which possessed them.
Already a torrent of burning matter and liquefied minerals fell from
the side of the mountain upon the meadows as far as the side of the
palisade. The gate was burst open by Ayrton, and the animals, bewildered
with terror, fled in all directions.

An hour afterwards the boiling lava filled the corral, converting into
vapor the water of the little rivulet which ran through it, burning up
the house like dry grass, and leaving not even a post of the palisade to
mark the spot where the corral once stood.

To contend against this disaster would have been folly—nay, madness. In
presence of Nature's grand convulsions man is powerless.

It was now daylight—the 24th of January. Cyrus Harding and his
companions, before returning to Granite House, desired to ascertain the
probable direction this inundation of lava was about to take. The soil
sloped gradually from Mount Franklin to the east coast, and it was to be
feared that, in spite of the thick Jacamar Wood, the torrent would reach
the plateau of Prospect Heights.

"The lake will cover us," said Gideon Spilett.

"I hope so!" was Cyrus Harding's only reply.

The colonists were desirous of reaching the plain upon which the
superior cone of Mount Franklin had fallen, but the lava arrested their
progress. It had followed, on one side, the valley of Red Creek, and
on the other that of Falls River, evaporating those watercourses in its
passage. There was no possibility of crossing the torrent of lava;
on the contrary, the colonists were obliged to retreat before it. The
volcano, without its crown, was no longer recognizable, terminated as it
was by a sort of flat table which replaced the ancient crater. From two
openings in its southern and eastern sides an unceasing flow of lava
poured forth, thus forming two distinct streams. Above the new crater a
cloud of smoke and ashes, mingled with those of the atmosphere, massed
over the island. Loud peals of thunder broke, and could scarcely be
distinguished from the rumblings of the mountain, whose mouth vomited
forth ignited rocks, which, hurled to more than a thousand feet, burst
in the air like shells. Flashes of lightning rivaled in intensity the
volcano's eruption.

Towards seven in the morning the position was no longer tenable by the
colonists, who accordingly took shelter in the borders of Jacamar Wood.
Not only did the projectiles begin to rain around them, but the lava,
overflowing the bed of Red Creek, threatened to cut off the road to the
corral. The nearest rows of trees caught fire, and their sap, suddenly
transformed into vapor, caused them to explode with loud reports, while
others, less moist, remained unhurt in the midst of the inundation.

The colonists had again taken the road to the corral. They proceeded but
slowly, frequently looking back; but, in consequence of the inclination
of the soil, the lava gained rapidly in the east, and as its lower waves
became solidified others, at boiling heat, covered them immediately.

Meanwhile, the principal stream of Red Creek Valley became more and
more menacing. All this portion of the forest was on fire, and enormous
wreaths of smoke rolled over the trees, whore trunks were already
consumed by the lava.

The colonists halted near the lake, about half a mile from the mouth of
Red Creek. A question of life or death was now to be decided.

Cyrus Harding, accustomed to the consideration of important crises, and
aware that he was addressing men capable of hearing the truth, whatever
it might be, then said,—

"Either the lake will arrest the progress of the lava, and a part of
the island will be preserved from utter destruction, or the stream will
overrun the forests of the Far West, and not a tree or plant will
remain on the surface of the soil. We shall have no prospect but that
of starvation upon these barren rocks—a death which will probably be
anticipated by the explosion of the island."

"In that case," replied Pencroft, folding his arms and stamping his
foot, "what's the use of working any longer on the vessel?"

"Pencroft," answered Cyrus Harding, "we must do our duty to the last!"

At this instant the river of lava, after having broken a passage through
the noble trees it devoured in its course, reached the borders of the
lake. At this point there was an elevation of the soil which, had it
been greater, might have sufficed to arrest the torrent.

"To work!" cried Cyrus Harding.

The engineer's thought was at once understood. It might be possible to
dam, as it were, the torrent, and thus compel it to pour itself into the
lake.

The colonists hastened to the dockyard. They returned with shovels,
picks, axes, and by means of banking the earth with the aid of fallen
trees they succeeded in a few hours in raising an embankment three feet
high and some hundreds of paces in length. It seemed to them, when
they had finished, as if they had scarcely been working more than a few
minutes.

It was not a moment too soon. The liquefied substances soon after
reached the bottom of the barrier. The stream of lava swelled like a
river about to overflow its banks, and threatened to demolish the sole
obstacle which could prevent it from overrunning the whole Far West. But
the dam held firm, and after a moment of terrible suspense the torrent
precipitated itself into Grant Lake from a height of twenty feet.

The colonists, without moving or uttering a word, breathlessly regarded
this strife of the two elements.

What a spectacle was this conflict between water and fire! What pen
could describe the marvelous horror of this scene—what pencil could
depict it? The water hissed as it evaporated by contact with the boiling
lava. The vapor whirled in the air to an immeasurable height, as if
the valves of an immense boiler had been suddenly opened. But, however
considerable might be the volume of water contained in the lake, it must
eventually be absorbed, because it was not replenished, while the stream
of lava, fed from an inexhaustible source, rolled on without ceasing new
waves of incandescent matter.

The first waves of lava which fell in the lake immediately solidified
and accumulated so as speedily to emerge from it. Upon their surface
fell other waves, which in their turn became stone, but a step
nearer the center of the lake. In this manner was formed a pier which
threatened to gradually fill up the lake, which could not overflow, the
water displaced by the lava being evaporated. The hissing of the water
rent the air with a deafening sound, and the vapor, blown by the wind,
fell in rain upon the sea. The pier became longer and longer, and the
blocks of lava piled themselves one on another. Where formerly stretched
the calm waters of the lake now appeared an enormous mass of smoking
rocks, as if an upheaving of the soil had formed immense shoals. Imagine
the waters of the lake aroused by a hurricane, then suddenly solidified
by an intense frost, and some conception may be formed of the aspect of
the lake three hours after the eruption of this irresistible torrent of
lava.

This time water would be vanquished by fire.

Nevertheless it was a fortunate circumstance for the colonists that the
effusion of lava should have been in the direction of Lake Grant. They
had before them some days' respite. The plateau of Prospect Heights,
Granite House, and the dockyard were for the moment preserved. And these
few days it was necessary to employ in planking and carefully calking
the vessel, and launching her. The colonists would then take refuge on
board the vessel, content to rig her after she should be afloat on the
waters. With the danger of an explosion which threatened to destroy the
island there could be no security on shore. The walls of Granite House,
once so sure a retreat, might at any moment fall in upon them.

During the six following days, from the 25th to the 30th of January, the
colonists accomplished as much of the construction of their vessel as
twenty men could have done. They hardly allowed themselves a moment's
repose, and the glare of the flames which shot from the crater enabled
them to work night and day. The flow of lava continued, but perhaps
less abundantly. This was fortunate, for Lake Grant was almost entirely
choked up, and if more lava should accumulate it would inevitably spread
over the plateau of Prospect Heights, and thence upon the beach.