"What a beautiful white flower! I did not know that the guava had such a delightful odor. In what way is it prepared and used?"
"You will see, by tasting it that the pulp is very aromatic and sweet. Its principal use is for jellies and preserves, and the rind stewed with milk makes an excellent marmalade."
"Have you found many of them?"
"There are several trees over there, and it seems to me that it is a good place to put up for the night, and we can gather a quantity of them."
Several trees were in sight, about 18 feet high, beautiful branching specimens, and beneath one of them the camp was made for the night.
While they were seated the Professor noticed the branch which George had brought. It was a stem about two feet long, with a lot of leaves on each side, and at the juncture of the leaves with the stem were rows of what appeared to be nuts. These were in the form of clusters.
He picked it up. "I thought I had made a good find in the guava, but this is still better."
"The nuts around the stem are what attracted me, and my curiosity was aroused."
"You took this from the coffee tree."
"Is it the real coffee?"
"It is the genuine article. I have searched for it from time to time. Let us go over and see the tree. We must cultivate its acquaintance."
They responded with alacrity. They were now going to have coffee. The tree was fully twenty feet high, and the branches extended out horizontally from all sides.
"Earlier in the season these nuts, as George called them, looked like cherries."
"But where is the coffee?"
"Inside the berry. Each berry contains two seeds. You know how the coffee berry looks. Let us open one of them. See, it is smaller than the ordinary berries, as you know them, but the kind we know are cultivated, which makes them larger, and fuller in appearance. These will make fine coffee, however, and I think we shall have to divide our load with the guavas."
"Where did coffee originally come from? Is it found in many places throughout the world?"
"The plant is supposed to be a native of Arabia in Asia, and of Abyssinia, in Africa. From Arabia it was carried to most of the tropical countries, but many varieties have been found in the western hemisphere. Even in Canada certain kinds of coffee plants are known. It is not, therefore, a wholly tropical plant. The Abyssinian coffee has been known from the earliest times."
"What is regarded as the best kind of coffee?"
"The best coffee of commerce is the Mocha, and next comes Java, and the principal coffee center of the world is Brazil."
On the morning of the eighth day they were awake early, and the boys began work on the berries. Angel took a hand in the proceedings, and as soon as he discovered what the boys were after he volunteered to harvest them. At this time the berries had somewhat hardened, and when Angel knew what was wanted, his long dextrous fingers were able to strip off more of the fruit in one stroke than the four hands of the boys. Harry was on the lower limb, and as fast as he had stripped a supply, would drop them into the outstretched cloth which the Professor and George held.
Angel eyed this proceeding, for a time, and then imitated Harry. How did he ever learn the art of picking coffee berries? The orang lives principally on nuts and berries, and the instinct to gather these was a natural one.
In an incredible short space of time fully a bushel had been taken off. It was the original idea of the boys to cut off the limbs, but they had seen none of the trees before this, and the Professor advised them to pick the fruit itself. Without Angel's expert help it would have been a long job.
With a load of guavas and another of coffee, the five guns, and a few of the other relics of their ill-fated expedition, was sufficient for the two days' journey still before them. That afternoon, while resting by the side of a little stream that flowed to the north, the antics of Angel attracted attention. He was usually so quiet that no notice was taken of him.
He had two peculiar ways of making himself understood. One was a gurgling sound, which indicated pleasure and contentment; and the other a chatter, or half a shriek, when intensely excited or alarmed. But now he did neither of these things. The sounds emitted could not well he described.
The sounds were made while springing from branch to branch. When he had attracted George's attention he ran forward, usually along the branches, but close to the ground. George followed. Whenever he attempted to go back to his comrades, Angel would come back, and in his most beseeching way endeavor to induce George to follow. His actions were well understood in this respect, because it will be remembered that he directed the attention to the missing team, and afterwards rediscovered the trail after it had been lost.
"Follow him, George, and we will bring the packages," was Harry's suggestion.
It was not necessary for them to go far. Beyond, in some large trees, were three immense orang-outans, intently gazing on the newcomer. George ran back, crying out: "See the orang-outans in the trees! Isn't this the place we captured Angel?"
Harry threw down the load and was by the side of George without a moment's delay. "Where is Angel? I am afraid this is the last of the little fellow." And Harry showed his grief. They saw Angel on his way to the trees, and without waiting for an invitation, was up among the branches, visiting his friends, and, probably, his parents.
All stood there awaiting the results breathlessly. Not a word was spoken. Without hesitation he swung himself to the last limb, on which the patriarch perched. Not a hand was lifted against him, but they looked too astonished to speak, even if they could.
Angel went from one to the other. He petted them, as George had often petted him. He knew what a caress meant, but his kin did not. It was too much for George. "Come down, Angel; good boy; come down." And he said it pathetically, too.
Not a hand was held out to him, nor did he get any sort of welcome, and yet he had expected so much, from what he tried to tell George, while on the way to his old home. It was too much for him. He heard that familiar voice, and the call that was always a welcome one, and he slowly descended the tree, not with that springy motion which characterized his ascent, but hesitatingly and in measured swings.
He went up to George and leaned against him, and then they knew that Angel intended to go home with them again. But they could not help watching the effect of Angel's actions on the animals in the trees. Ordinarily, they will quickly spring away from any intruders, as they do not generally consider the trees high enough to give protection. Their remarkable agility enables them to travel faster by the tree line than man can follow on foot.
But now that Angel was again with the boys, all sense of fear seemed to leave the three creatures in the trees. They looked down at the proceedings, and as the boys passed by they sat in their specially prepared seats, as though they knew the care which had been bestowed on their offspring.
This little incident affected all more than it is possible to tell. The animal was really a marvelous character. True, George had spent hours and days in his education. He knew many of the words, and could execute missions, and did many things to aid George in the work at home, and it would have been a trial and a sorrow to miss him.
The next day would see them home again, and they could hardly restrain themselves at the thought of it. What if some one should have visited them while absent? Why might not the savages have found their abode? These were questions ever uppermost in the minds of all.
Before noon they reached the Cataract River to the west of the forest. This seemed like an old friend. And what was more: before they had gone many miles, the Professor pointed to a clearing, and remarked: "Do you remember this place?"
The boys looked about, as they moved forward. "I do not recollect the place," was George's answer, but Harry now recalled the fight of the bears, and the honey tree, and without saying a word he ran to the tree, which was still lying there, and said one word, "Honey."
George now remembered, and Angel began to gurgle.
In the afternoon of the ninth day, emerging from the forests, the first sight that met their eyes was the flag floating from the top of Observation Hill. Never before had the flag looked so glorious, and they could not repress a shout and a cheer. The distance home was at least four miles, but tired as they were, no one felt like stopping for a rest.
Everything at the home seemed quiet and peaceful. The cattle were there, lazily scattered about, apparently not knowing or caring whether their masters were absent. The boys were moving along jauntily, happy as larks, singing snatches of songs, and amusing the Professor with sallies of wit and humor.
Angel was just as happy and was enjoying the prospects of coming home. Long before the home was neared he started off on a race, with George at his heels. Burdened as he was, it was impossible to keep up with the animal, so that the latter was at the house long before George came near. He was surprised to see Angel bounding toward him with his peculiar chattering that betokened excitement, and he stopped and hesitated what to do.
Depositing his load on the ground, he ran back, and signaled to the others. Angel came up and tried to tell them in his peculiar way of some danger ahead. Two hundred feet south of the house was a thick growth of underbrush, and to that the party made its way.
Arriving there, a consultation was had, on the course of procedure. Nothing was, apparently, disturbed. No sign of human presence was manifest. The door which opened to the main room, facing the west, was closed, as well as the room of the workshop.
"If anyone is about the premises he must be beyond the house, as it is evident some signs would show in the house or shop. Prepare your guns and let us go forward."
The house was cautiously approached, and reached, and Harry quietly gained the door, and the secret bolt opened. The door was slowly opened and he peered in. It was unoccupied, and all rushed in. A small trap-door on the northern side was now opened, which gave a view toward the shop and cattle-yard.
What they saw there startled them beyond measure, for seated on a log, outside of the cattle-shed, was a man, with a straggling, unkempt beard, vacantly gazing into space.
"How shall we attract his attention?" asked Harry, breathlessly.
"Let us rush out the front door. He is, apparently, alone."
At the signal, with their guns ready, they filed out, and moved toward him. He raised his eyes, and at first was a little startled, but again relaxed, and seemed to take no particular notice of their approach. The Professor walked toward him, and held out his hand. The stranger made no motion or protest, either of fear or recognition, and as the Professor's hand touched him, his hand was involuntarily extended.
Not a word was uttered by him. The Professor turned to the boys. "He is demented, or has lost all knowledge of his condition or surroundings. Poor fellow!"
The Professor addressed him. He looked startled at the sound of a human voice, and as the voices continued, began to look inquiringly at one and then at the other. He was a man fully fifty years of age, strong, well built, but somewhat emaciated. His eyes had no luster, the beard was long and shaggy, and aside from the torn and almost unrecognizable trousers, the only article of clothing was an equally dilapidated shirt.
George grasped Harry, excitedly. "Where did he get that shirt? That is the one we used as our first signal flag, and which we lost five months ago." Such was indeed the case. The only thing in its torn and tattered condition, which enabled him to recognize it were the initials of George, which he had noticed.
Thus was one of the mysteries explained. Despite every attempt at conversation, not a word escaped his lips. The Professor took him by the arm, and led him to the house. He entered and looked around not particularly interested, but more in curiosity than otherwise.
"What do you suppose he has been living on, and where has he been staying?"
At the suggestion of the Professor, some food was brought, and placed before him. He gazed at it. A knife and fork were on the table. He reached for them slowly, and when he had grasped both began to eat ravenously. He finished without looking up, and when the last morsel was eaten stared about, and a faint smile appeared, which was the first facial change that had crossed his features since they met him.
He was conducted to a reclining chair, and such articles of clothing as they could find were brought out and laid before him. He gazed on them, and slowly picked up one after the other. His feet were bare, and appeared to have been scratched and torn, but they were hardened by contact with the earth. An old pair of shoes, the ones discarded by the Professor, when they turned out the first lot of shoes, was set before him.
He picked them up and mechanically put them on. "Now let us leave him alone for a while." They went out, closing the door, and Harry stole around to the small port which he had opened, and watched the stranger.
His demeanor did not change after they left; he simply glanced about the room. When his eyes fell on the table, he arose and cautiously approached, and suddenly seized the table knife, with just a slight change of countenance. This he attempted to secrete beneath his ragged shirt.
"Do you think he is dangerous?"
"His malady is a peculiar one, and arises from various causes. I do not think we need fear him."
"But see how he took that knife."
"That was simply an instinct; that of self-protection. Any other implement would have been as acceptable as a knife. Possibly, the sight of the knife, temporarily, may have brought back some glimmering remembrance of his sane moments."
"Do you think he is insane?"
"No; it does not appear to be of such a character. He seems to exhibit loss of memory. Imbecility, idiocy, and lunacy exhibit marked tendencies, and have been made the careful study of many eminent men, and it is even now one of the disorders least understood by the medical fraternity."
"What is a lunatic?"
"Blackstone, the great English authority on law, defines it as 'one that hath had understanding, but by grief, disease, or other accident hath lost the use of his reason.' This eminent authority also stated that lunatics may have frequent lucid intervals, and might enjoy the use of their senses during certain periods of the moon. It is from that source we are indebted to the still prevailing idea of the moon's influence on the human mind. That view was exploded long ago, and shown to have no foundation."
"What is the difference between a lunatic and an insane person?"
"The original term was lunatic, in accordance with Blackstone's definition; but in medical science the terms insanity and mental alienation have taken its place."
"Doesn't he act peculiarly? He does not seem to know we are present. What I cannot understand is, how he knows enough to get anything to eat."
"That is a peculiar thing in nature. Here is a man who has, outwardly, the appearance of an intelligent being, incapable of talking, or uttering intelligible sounds, with memory so submerged that he doesn't, likely, recognize his own kind, and yet has been able to find food for at least five months, to our knowledge. It shows that, irrespective of mind, nature has implanted some kind of an instinct of preservation in living beings. The subject is one that has been discussed from many standpoints, and it can never be exhausted."
The boys now went over the entire premises, carefully examining every part. Evidences were plenty to show that the man had slept in the shed adjoining the stable, and the shells of nuts as well as barley heads were found around the place he had slept.
There was everything to indicate that his trials and sufferings on the island had deranged him. Probably his was a case like many instances known, where consciousness of self—the absolute loss of memory, had caused disappearances, and many instances have been recorded where intelligence finally asserted itself and brought back former recollections.
The instinct to clothe himself was shown when they returned. The Professor went up to him kindly and spoke. The words were repeated in German and French, but not one word did he utter, nor did he give the least visible sign of recognition.
During the afternoon he wandered around from place to place. The boys were too much fascinated to turn their attention to anything. George started out for a trip to Observation Hill, accompanied, as usual, by Angel. The strange man was passed on the way. Without a sign he followed. George was a little frightened, but soon recovered, as he walked along unconcernedly.
They crawled up the steep ascent, instead of going around the gentler ascent, and when the pole was reached, the stranger for the first time took any interest in anything he saw. He looked up at the flag, and then out over the sea, and as he did so, he put up his hand to shade his eyes from the glare of the sun. This was the only human thing which was noticed about him.
When George left, he followed, walking erect, and he could not help admiring his strong, although drawn, features, and the admirable build of his frame. He would be an antagonist to fear as an enemy.
On the return, George stated the occurrence, and the Professor said that the man was no doubt used to the sea, as his walk betrayed that, and the incident of shading his eyes is a common one to all seafaring men.
But now came up the great question of the future course to be followed. What should be done? The determination to again attempt further explorations was fixed in the minds of all; but how should it be conducted? Should they again brave the dangers of the sea, or make the next trip by land?
The only means available by sea would be the partially damaged boat, which was seventy-five miles away, and plans were considered either to bring it to the Cataract by boat, or to repair it where it lay; either course had its disadvantages.
One day the stranger wandered over to the workshop where Harry was engaged. He had never been inquisitive, as nothing seemed to interest or appeal to him. When he saw the machinery, the lathe, and, finally, the electric battery, he stood still and gazed. Slowly he made his way to the battery which had the terminal wires lying loose. He picked them up, and brought the ends together, and the spark seemed to fascinate him. The experiment was repeated several times, but the wires were soon dropped, and he resumed his usual demeanor.
Harry ran over to the laboratory, and informed the Professor, who came at once, and arrived just as he was dropping the wires.
"The best thing for him is something to do. In this way, the association with tools, if he has any knowledge of them, may awaken some recollections of his past. I have watched him for the past three days and I am sure he is not deranged, in the sense of being demented. Let us try what employment will do."
Harry was engaged in dressing a board with a plane when the man came in. The Professor led him to the bench and placed a plane in his hand, and by making a motion with his hand and pushing the man's hand along with the plane, he took notice of the motion and mechanically drew the plane back and forth.
He not only planed the board, but he followed up the roughened parts and finished the job in a workmanlike manner. The saw was placed in his hands, and he handled this with a facility that surprised both of them. He did not look like a mechanic, but on the other hand had every appearance of a literary man, but he was, unquestionably, used to tools.
After considering the all-important question of the exploring expedition, which subject was an ever present one, it was agreed that the wisest course would be a trip by land. They now knew the location of the inhabitants of the island, and with proper equipment, they ought to be able properly to defend themselves. Another element which might prove of value to them was the new acquisition in the man who had come so unaccountably to their home.
One of the first things necessary was to give him some name by which he could be known, and which he would in time recognize. This was debated over and over, without coming to any conclusion. Eventually, in the absence of anything better, it was decided to call him simply John.
When Harry went to the shop where he was at work, he addressed him as John; and at the uttering of the word started, as though he had been alarmed. Harry noticed it, and repeated the name several times, with the same result, and he hastened to inform the Professor of this experience. The Professor went down without delay, and it was evident from the actions of the man that he recalled something familiar in the name, as in every instance he would put his hands to his head and give an inquiring look.
"It is my impression that John is his name, as he would be more likely to remember that than anything else connected with his life. Let us keep him occupied, and his work may also be the means of bringing back familiar things."
The boys, in company with John, set about preparing a good bed for the newcomer, and he took a part in it most heartily, and seemed to understand when the Professor pointed to him and the bed that it was intended for him.
The interest was more intense when he was taken to the boathouse, which Harry had opened, and when he saw the boats, his eyes opened wide and grew brighter, but they suddenly lost their color and he relapsed into his former state.
It was truly pitiful to watch him, and when in the evening they sat together and conversed, they felt that at times he must have gotten some glimpses of his individuality.
In the morning when George went out to the cattle pens to milk, he mechanically grasped a pail and followed, and the milking operation seemed to be a familiar one to him. Thus, he was a mystery, for the reason that he seemed to be at home in every direction where it called for any special activity. This was made the more mystifying when, during the next day, he wandered over to the laboratory, and his eyes caught sight of the skulls and the skeletons which were on exhibition.
He walked over to the skulls, and picking up one poised it on his hand, slowly turning it around, as though trying to discover what it meant. The one selected had one side partially crushed, and this attracted his attention. He placed the fingers of the other hand in the shattered part, and seemed to realize that some agency must have caused it. The whole deportment while examining it was that of one who was called upon to make an examination of it for the purpose of determining the cause of the injury.
When he laid it down, he looked at the Professor, who quietly took up the skull and pointed to the fracture, endeavoring by his conversation to strike a word or keynote by which some recollection would be started; but he was mute and soon again became listless.
The food supply was now the first thing to consider, as all necessaries in the way of vegetables, as well as meats, had been exhausted when they started on the last trip, and a new lot had to be laid in. The matter of butter was always a hard problem to take care of, and George referred to this difficulty, and before they sailed away the Professor told him that, on their return, the first thing to do would be the construction of a machine which would simplify the production of the butter.
"As we are going to use more butter, I think it would be a good thing to start in on our cream separator," said George, who, while he was not an adept, like Harry, to devise the things required, was always ready to suggest things that could be made to advantage.
"I know that Harry will be very glad to set to work on that, so we might as well commence," answered the Professor.
"What is the principle of the separator that causes the cream to break away from the milk?"
"Centrifugal motion is employed to bring it about."
"But how does that motion affect it?"
"When you put a ball on an elastic and swing it about your head in a circle, the elastic stretches in proportion to the speed at which you swing it. You have probably seen it done. It is stretched in proportion to its weight, also. These two things, therefore, are properties of centrifugal motion. Cream is the fatty portion of the milk. It is contained in little globules, and when the milk is allowed to stand, the milk surrounding the globules, being heavier than the cream, forces its way to the bottom, and the cream by that means goes to the top. The inventor has taken advantage of this fact by making a machine which will take the milk and impart to it a very high centrifugal motion, and in doing so the milk particles, on account of their greater weight, force their way outwardly and the cream inwardly. The machine is also so arranged that the cream and milk are drawn from it at separate points, and this operation is a continuous one."
Harry quickly understood the machine from the drawing made for his guidance, and in Figure 28 a sketch is made, showing how it was constructed.
A frame was made which had a base (A) and two standards or uprights (B, B), and between these uprights were a pair of horizontal bars (C, C). These bars served as supports for a vertical tube (D), the tube being journaled in the center of the cross bars, so that it extended above and below the bars, and had a small pulley (E) between them.
Below the lower cross bar the vertical tube has two radiating tubes (F, F), closed at their outer ends, but communicating with the bore (G) of the tube (D) by means of two orifices (H, H). The bore (G) extends down to a point a little below the orifices (H, H), and a small tube (I) runs through the tube D, within the tubes F, F, the ends of the tube being open. A duct (J) centrally through the tubular piece (D) communicates with the bore of the tube I. One each side of the tube D is a little tube (K), which communicates with the inner end of each tube (F). A receptacle (L) is attached to the tube D below each tube (K), to catch the cream.
The operation of the machine is as follows: When milk is poured into the top of the tube D, and the latter is set to rotate at a high speed, it passes down and out through the ducts (H, H), into the horizontal tubes (F, F), with the result that the cream is prevented by the heavier milk from reaching the outer open ends of the tube I. As a result, only the milk passes inwardly through the inner tube, and is discharged downwardly through the duct (J), whereas the cream passes out through the small tubes (K).
The quest for a supply of vegetables was now a part of the daily occupation of some in the colony, as the garden had not yet advanced to that stage where anything could be gotten from it. One morning John was missing, and there was a great deal of speculation as to his disappearance.
Before noon he reappeared, carrying in his arms as large a quantity of vegetables as he could carry. Harry was the first to see and welcome him. He recognized beets and was delighted to find that John understood what they were after. When the Professor was informed, he gave a hearty welcome, and John seemed to recognize that his efforts were appreciated.
"Ah! I see you have some onions," he said, as he beamed on him.
"Onions!"
"Yes; the wild onion, the progenitor of all the onions. One variety of this is a species called chives, used as a salad, and is known throughout Europe under that name."
"But this beet is very small; is it also wild?"
"There are four varieties of the beet. This is the most common of them all, and grows in a wild state in many parts of the world. The Mangelwurzel is a larger beet, and coarser, and is much used for cattle feed. If you want to give your cows a treat, this would be the food to give them. Then there is a kind called the chard, also a good variety. If possible, we should try and get John to show us where he found them. Undoubtedly it was along the sandy part of the island."
The first real surprise manifested by John was when the yaks were hitched up and he was invited to join them on a trip. His eyes seemed to show some glimmer of intelligence when he slowly crawled up into the wagon. Their course was directed toward the forest to the west, and the trip there, which occupied nearly two hours, was a constant source of pleasure to all.
On the way the animals were stopped at intervals to allow the Professor and George to collect specimens of plants and to seek for ores. And here occurred the first real symptoms of returning consciousness on the part of John. As the Professor was moving toward a hill, with a small pick, he was seen to pick up one of the little hammers and follow.
Without seeming to notice either of the party, he undertook to explore on his own account, moving here and there along the hillside and occasionally stopping to examine and chip off samples, which he carefully laid down, but when this was done, entirely forgot to collect them. The act of procuring the samples seemed to be the absorbing element. He thus went on, never returning to the places where they were deposited.
"That action on his part shows a remarkable phase of his malady. Notice how carefully he puts them down and how uniformly he forgets that he has done so. The mind, in his condition, is so disordered that it cannot reason with any degree of sequence. He recalls only one thing at a time; but if I am not mistaken, he is a man of culture, and his every act shows that he was a man of broad intellect. I hope we shall be able to restore him to his normal condition."
The guns had been taken along, as usual, in order to do some hunting, and while the Professor and John were engaged in prospecting, the boys were after game, in which they were more than ordinarily successful, the bag for the first hour being a half dozen pheasants and several squirrels.
When the Professor returned to the wagon with several loads of samples which the two had gathered, George insisted on penetrating the forest still farther, their direction being toward the falls in South River. Before long they came across the trail which had been taken by the yaks when they made their flight some three months before. They were now not to exceed two miles from the falls.
Angel, who was with them, now began one of his peculiar chattering exhibitions which betokened alarm, and the yaks exhibited a restless disposition. Harry moved forward to ascertain the cause, and before he had gone two hundred feet, saw the cause of the disturbance. It was one of the largest bears which they had so far seen, standing alongside of a large fallen tree and vigorously working his immense paws.
He ran back to the party and gave the information, and the Professor seized a gun, but John instinctively, as it were, grasped one of the spears and darted forward in the direction Harry had taken. The bear paid no attention to the party, and when the Professor came up, he said: "How fortunate it is that we shall be under obligations to the bears for our second treat of honey. I do not think we ought to attack him after rendering us this service."
John was restrained from going forward, and he cast a peculiar glance toward the Professor. "If there is honey there," replied George, eagerly, "let us drive him away, at any rate."
But Bruin would not be driven away. He sprang down from the log, growling and pacing back and forth. Occasionally he would leap back on the log. It was plain, that he was after the honey and regarded it as his special property.
"Well, George, suppose you give him a shot as a reminder that we need some of that honey?"
He needed no urging, and taking a rest alongside a sapling, fired a shot with one of the long guns. The shot was answered by a terrific growl, which ended in a prolonged roar. Without waiting for another summons, he made a line for George, who ran back. This was more than John could stand, who now ran directly to the bear with his sole weapon, the spear.
Neither of them could restrain him, but all sprang after him. It was a challenge the bear sought, and John did not in the least check himself until within ten feet of the animal, when, with a light spring to one side, he directed the spear against the side of the bear as he passed in his rush. While the spear entered the animal, it did not reach a vital spot.
Harry was about to fire, but the Professor held up a hand. "Have a care, unless you are able to control yourself well. You are likely to hit John." The bear turned, but John made no motion to avoid him, and again the bear charged. This time John did not jump aside to exceed two feet, and again plunged the spear forward, and as the bear's lumbering body moved forward fully ten feet or more before he could bring himself to a halt, they saw that the spear had broken off, and the terrific growl of the animal showed how badly he had been wounded.
John made no effort to escape, although he plainly saw the broken end of the weapon, and the Professor, surprising as it may seem, did not encourage a shot. The effect of the last stab was apparent, however, as Bruin did not turn after the last attack, but, with an expiring growl, sank down.
He was a magnificent specimen. The Professor went up to John and held out his hand in recognition of his wonderful feat, and he seemed to realize the nature of the commendation bestowed on him.
The work of skinning the animal was participated in by all. John seemed to enjoy it, and by his actions showed that he was at home in this sort of work. You may be sure that his actions throughout the day were such as to give him a warm place in their hearts, and they recognized what a valuable ally had come to them.
The excitement made them forget the honey tree. They were recalled to that by Angel. He had made his way there after the battle ended, and was now in the seventh heaven of delight, and when George arrived to take possession, Angel was covered with a mass of the delicious sweet and fairly gorging himself.
As no provision had been made for carrying the honey home, the boys remembered the first attempt at conveying it, and after the skin had been removed, it was taken to the hive, and it was a pleasure to all to remove the comb and every part of the coveted treasure. A luncheon was prepared, and for the first time in two months the use of their sugar was dispensed with.
"As we are so near the falls, why not go there, and possibly the sight of it may recall something to John?"
George and Harry looked at the Professor for an inkling of his reason for the remark, but he appeared not to notice them.
As the distance was not great, the course was directed along the very trail that the runaway yaks had taken from the river some months before. The moment the river was reached, John sprang from the wagon and made his way to the shore and stood there gazing, and as his eyes turned to the right and he saw the falls, he slowly turned to the Professor, as though he was about to say something, but there the quest of his eyes ended, and all recollection seemed to leave him.
George could not restrain himself any longer. "Why did you make the remark that it would be well to bring John here to see whether or not he would be able to remember anything?"
"I was anxious to see if he would recognize the stream, and possibly recall the boat."
"What boat?"
"The boat we left here."
"And do you think John took the boat?"
"It is my opinion he took the boat, and then forgot it. During that lapse it was washed down to the sea by the flood."
"But how do you account for the oars and the rope which we found in it?"
"He must have put them there."
"Where do you suppose he got the oars and the rope?"
"That is the peculiar part of the problem. The rope, if you will remember, looked as though it was made by savages. At any rate, it was not a regulation rope; but the oars were undoubtedly taken from theInvestigator'slifeboat."
This was interesting news to the boys. It did seem probable, after all, that John had something to do with the lifeboat as well as their own boat.
An hour or more was spent on the shore of the river, passing along its banks and investigating the proximity of the falls, but if there was a glimmer of intelligence, John did not exhibit it. All realized this one thing: that if his memory could be brought to its normal condition, he would be able, undoubtedly, to reveal some of the mysteries they longed to unravel. For all they knew, he might have been one of the crew of theInvestigator, but this, after all reflections, was out of the question, because life on shipboard is rather intimate, and boys, above all others, are most likely to remember faces.
Neither had the slightest knowledge of ever having seen him, and it was now felt that they must await the time when he would again regain his consciousness by the orderly course of nature.
While on the way home, George, who was seated by the Professor, mused over the occurrences of the day. "It has always been a wonder to me to know why it is that humanity must always be surrounded by a mystery of some sort. It seems there is always something just beyond him, and he must struggle and work to find it out. Why is it?"
"You have asked the great question of the ages. It is an eternal question. Why should man know everything? That would be omnipotence. If you stop to consider, it will occur to you that the moment man knows everything he ceases to be a man. All energy, all effort, and every instinct in life fades away. The association of man with man would cease. Take the simple act of one lady calling on another. Do you think it is merely to look at her friend, or is it done to make some inquiry? Every action in life has in it some desire to acquire something, to get that which man did not possess before. The quest for the things of this life become and are the great pleasures which man enjoys. It is not their possession. Men pursue pleasure. That is a seeking after something just as much as hunting for wealth."
Returning to their home, the samples which the Professor and John had gathered were carefully taken to the laboratory, and several of the large copper receptacles cleaned for the honey. This was the part which Angel enjoyed more than anything else. And here it may be remarked that, when John was installed, Angel was a little shy with the stranger, but gradually became accustomed to his presence. Somehow John could not fully understand the creature, and often would be seen following his motions; but within a week Angel would permit himself to be caressed without objection, and he seemed to know that no harm could come from the kindly faced man.
Notwithstanding the mystery of their new friend, there could be but one course to follow. They lived on the island and were a part of it. The longing to know what the other side of the island contained was an ever-constant inquiry. Something must be done to forward their efforts in that direction.
During the four weeks at home a good supply of provisions had been gathered, and now the plans were made for an overland journey. The wrecked boat was still near the mouth of West River. It would be a week's trip to bring it home, and this was not considered advisable, particularly as the monsoons were still blowing, with greater or less violence and frequency.
It may well be imagined that the boys had not forgotten the cave. It was their constant talk by day and their dreams at night. It had a fascination which was constantly drawing them in that direction, but, singularly, they never entered it. But one day George suggested that they make a search on their own account. Harry quickly assented, and taking up the two lamps, together with their weapons, were soon at the entrance.
They cautiously went down the stone steps and directed their way to the recess where the treasure was deposited. The skeletons had been buried on a previous visit, so they did not have that grim recollection to ponder over.
What interested them most was the chamber to the east which had been examined by the Professor, and to that they made their way. During the first two hundred feet the direction was to the east, or nearly so, and then the walls suddenly turned to the right, and here a sight met their eyes which bewildered them.
The chamber was a gorgeous one, not so large as the one in which the pirates had their booty, but the calcareous hangings on the walls were far superior and possessed greater decorative effect. From a point near the center of the cavern, they turned and examined all sides, and to the south was what appeared to be an outlet, and this was approached.
They moved nearer with a silent tread, as though fearing the ghosts of the past century would rise to receive them. They saw a recess, cut like a room in the side of the walls, symmetrical in form, and fitted with all the comforts and luxuries that humanity could wish, but it was crumbled, and crumbling, and everything fell at the touch.
Here, scattered about, were the remains of a table, and among its crumbled ruins were gold and silver vessels. There was a mass of debris, among which could be recognized articles of human manufacture and use, but all covered with the everlasting carbonate of lime, which gave it the color of death and the shroud of a sepulcher.
Not a word was spoken. They moved from place to place and touched the objects. What appeared to have some resemblance of a rigid form fell away, just as they had seen it in the other portion of the cave. What surprised them most was the entire absence of any firearms, although they remembered that the Professor had said the other portions of the cave would show that the pirates had plenty of guns.
This incited them to further search. Could it be possible that the Professor had not seen this part of the cave? Their own tracks could be made out in the soft stalagmites on the floor, and retracing their steps to the center of the chamber, they searched back and forth to determine whether or not he had visited this portion.
Nothing was found to satisfy them on this point, but, passing on beyond the first recess entered, they were amazed to find a second grottoed recess, similar to the first, but much longer, and here, with merely a wall separating them from the other recess, was an orgy of bones and weapons.
It was such an unlooked-for sight that they almost staggered at the scene. At one side was a row of chests, fully six feet long, all white and crumbling, and these were filled with the long Spanish guns of which they had several specimens.
Here everything was in confusion. The final act in the drama enacted here, whether before or after the battle in the other chamber, bore evidences of annihilation. Here were skeletons, locked in their dying embraces, still grasping cutlasses with which they closed the act. But what interested them more than anything else were four skeletons, reclining on a raised portion, with chains on wrists and ankles, which looked like a mockery in their surroundings.
The captives had taken no part in the struggles. Were they being defended? and who were the captors? The boys had no time to consider these things. Other matters attracted them. The nook close by was a veritable arsenal. It contained chests which, undoubtedly, were filled with gold. The sights, their surroundings, the evidences of untold treasure everywhere were enough to unnerve them for the time, and George, with a voice almost hoarse, suggested that it would be well to return. It was some time before they could make their way back to the entrance, and when it was reached, they sat down, not knowing what to say or what interpretation to put on the last discovery.
Nothing was said to the Professor about the visit to the cave. It must be confessed that they felt a little sheepish about this, as such a thing as deceiving the Professor was farthest from their thoughts, but there was no concerted agreement to keep him in the dark. Either would have scorned to enter into such an agreement.
The boys were more than surprised that evening when the Professor brought out some of the treasures he had brought from the cave and exhibited them. Among them was a crude implement of stone, which had the appearance of a cutting instrument. Another was a small stone vessel, unmistakably showing human manufacture.
The sight of these did not, at first, interest the boys, but when the Professor stated that the cave was undoubtedly of very ancient origin, George could not resist the inevitable question, "How can that be determined?"
"In the study of paleontology an effort has been made to classify the different periods of man's life on the planet, so that we have the stone age, which is the earliest, the bronze age, and the age of iron."
"How far back in the history of the world has evidence been found of the existence of man?"
"In the chalk cliffs of England, and also in like formations in Germany, skulls have been found which indicate an existence back to a period fully 500,000 years ago."
"What reason is there to assume that if they were found in those chalk deposits, that they must have been that far back?"
"Because it was fully that long ago in the period of the world formation when the chalk beds were made, and this seems to be conclusive evidence of great antiquity."
"Is it not singular that more evidence of that condition is not found than the recovery of a few bones?"
"Not when it is considered that the earth is constantly undergoing change, first in one place and then in another. Have you ever heard of the great continent, which was supposed to be lost in mid-Atlantic, called Atlantis? Plato refers to it, and attributes the first knowledge of it as coming from Solon, who visited Egypt and there learned from the wise men that a great country, to the west of the Pillars of Hercules, which Gibraltar was called in ancient times, had disappeared thousands of years before; and they further informed the great Grecian lawgiver that the earth had been peopled and repeopled many times before in ages past."
"Why was it necessary to repeople the earth? Were they all destroyed?"
"They pointed out that at certain stages of the world's history great floods came and destroyed all the people inhabiting the low places, and at other times the terrific volcanic eruptions destroyed those who lived in the hills, and at other times entire continents, like Atlantis, disappeared, so that the earth had to be repeopled and the arts and sciences learned over anew."
It is wonderful to relate how the life on the island affected the health of all. They lived outdoors and had plenty of sunshine and vigorous exercise. In the laboratory, the Professor made it a constant habit to do all his work in the sunlight, to which he exposed himself at all times. The boys often spoke of this, and one day, while talking on the subject, he remarked:
"It is surprising how little the majority of people value sunlight. It is not the visible sunlight that performs the wonders in giving strength to man. If you recall, we spoke about the actinic rays which cause the chemical changes on the photographic plate. It is those unseen rays which produce the aurora borealis, exert a curative effect upon leprosy and tuberculosis, fill the atmosphere on the sunny side of a street with oxygen and nitrogen, and do many other marvelous things."
"In what manner does the invisible light produce these results?"
"In its sparkling radiations microbes die, decay ceases, the iron in the blood becomes chemically strong; ozone is manufactured from the dirt and dust, which are also destroyed; the perspiration becomes active and carries off waste from the muscles and cleanses the skin; dead tissues are purified and the muscles invigorated; and all life is made to thrive."
"Does the sunlight have the same effect on all the animal creations?"
"This is true of all animate life, except minute organisms, or what are called bacteria."
"If that is the case, why do worms and the like hide themselves in the earth?"
"In that case it is the instinct of self-preservation. The most of them are eyeless, so that sunlight exposes them to birds and other enemies. Professor Mast demonstrated that they are very favorably influenced by exposure to sunlight. Dr. Dolly has shown, by a series of very brilliant experiments, that the butterfly will live three times longer in sunlight than in the shadow; and Professor Yerkes has also proven that the jellyfish, while inactive in the dark, becomes very strenuous in sunlight."
"If that is the case, why wouldn't it be a good thing to have all houses made of glass?"
"That is really what has been proposed. The Government of the United States has set a good example in this respect by devoting over one-half of the space of the new post-office building in Washington to an arrangement which permits the interior to be flooded with sunlight."
In the really strenuous times which our colonists had passed through the pleasures of fishing had been forgotten, and as that was an article of food which all relished, and of which they had been deprived for some time, Harry insisted that at least a portion of the following day should be spent in that way.
John saw the preparations which were going on and entered into the spirit of it in his usual listless way, but it must be said that there was now more eagerness in his actions than had been theretofore noticed.
All saw the change that was perceptibly coming over him, and the particular thing that George noticed was the character of the eye. "I wish you would explain, Professor, why it is that the eyes of people so affected are dull, and that when they recover the eye becomes bright?"
"That change in the character of the eye is expressed by everyone under certain conditions. How much brighter the eye is when you are affected by laughter. That is due to the duct which lubricates the eyeball. Anything pleasant causes an undue amount of discharge, so that the eyeball glistens, and we call it looking bright. The same principle holds good in the case of one who is dull or listless, or, as in our friend's case, has nothing to stimulate the flow of the secretions. The moment he is affected, this is shown on the eyeball sooner than by any other part of his body."
It will be remembered that in a former volume it was stated how Harry had prepared a number of very creditable fishhooks, and these were now attached to the ramie fiber cord and suitable poles were easily obtained for the day's outing.
Aside from John, it was a merry party that left the Cataract that morning, and Angel was among them. Several good fishing spots were known, but the Professor suggested that a change be made and that the trial for the day should be in the river below the Cataract, in the hope that larger and gamer fish might be found. In all former trials only the tame fish were caught.
Less than a quarter of a mile below the Cataract, and close to the mouth of the river, was a small cove, with deep water, bounded by a sandy shore. Here the party stopped and cast their lines. The Professor, however, used a fly and fished with it at the surface of the water. As on the previous occasion, he was the first to land a magnificent specimen, which was so large that he had difficulty in landing it.
"What is that beauty?"
"It is a salmon; or it might be more correct to call it a salmon-trout. Trout belong to the salmon family, and they are all game."
"Well, he certainly made a fight for it."
"Does the salmon live in salt as well as in fresh water?"
"They have a habit of remaining off the coast in salt water during the winter months in northern latitudes, and then entering the rivers when the spawning season begins, ascending the rivers slowly, despite every obstacle that may be put in their way. When they reach a favorite spot, the eggs are laid and are hatched out in countless numbers."
"Has it been discovered why they do this?"
"In order to escape their enemies, who seek the eggs. Even with the care which they take in breeding, millions are destroyed, and it has been estimated that if all the eggs laid were hatched out the number would be so great as to prevent navigation along the shores of the coasts where they thrive. In the rivers of Oregon and Washington the shoals of salmon are frequently so great in the rivers as to make it impossible for a boat to be navigated through them."
Harry was awarded with the second catch, which was fully fifteen inches in length. It had a nearly cylindrical body, covered with exceptionally large scales, and its head above convex. The striking thing about it was the color, the back being of a bottle-green, light on the sides, and silvery white underneath.
The Professor was on hand at once. "You have captured a fine specimen of the mullet, not considered, generally, as a game fish. It is a particularly fine table fish."
George came in for his share of luck, as well as John, who seemed to enjoy the sport immensely. His eyes showed that. It was a pleasure to all at this opportunity to bring something into the life of the poor unfortunate so that he might be brought back to light again.
During the evening George suggested that as the trip was to be overland it might be wise to can some of the fish, or to use some of the receptacles found in the cave for this purpose.
"We might do that," said the Professor, "or they might be salted down, and that would not necessitate the receptacles, if we dried them."
The salted fish did not appeal to either of the boys, and it was accordingly agreed to put up several packages for food.
"Will it be much trouble to preserve them by putting them in cans?"
"If proper precautions are taken they can be preserved. The difficulty is that the air is not excluded, and the mischief is caused by the gases which form, in that case, and when the pressure becomes too great the receptacle bursts."
"Why are the fish, or other substances, so canned heated and put into the cans while in that state?"
"When a can is filled with the material in a heated state it has been expanded to its highest point, and after the package is sealed properly, no air can enter it, so that it is prevented from changing its condition by any chemical action. Our difficulty will be to get a proper metal for the cans."
"What is the best to use?"
"Tin, for the reason that tin is not affected by any of the acids which are formed by fish or by fruit, which may be put in them."
It has been stated that the boys were both musically inclined, and George had taken several courses of lessons on the violin before he joined the training ship. If there was anything more than another that was missed, particularly in the evenings, it was the lack of musical instruments, to which all had been accustomed. As a result, the boys had for some time worked on a violin, which was now nearing completion, and they hoped it could be finished before the start was made.
The Professor discovered the partly constructed violin, and at once showed his appreciation of their enterprise. "Now that you have the body, what are you going to do for strings?" and he laughed at the bewildered look. They had forgotten the one essential thing.
Without a word, he left them, and when he returned, held in his hand a dozen or more hard, bony-like and dried-up reeds. "Possibly these will do for your purpose."
"What are they?"
"These are the intestines of the wildcat we shot about ten months ago."
"Well, aren't they as good as the intestines of the common cat?"
"Undoubtedly; but violin strings are not produced from that source."
"Aren't they known as catgut?"
"That is true; but it is a mistake. The strings of commerce are made principally from the intestines of sheep, and, singularly, have been always designated as 'catgut.' Other articles from the same source are hatters' bowstrings, clockmakers' cords, and thongs for whips and laces for boots."
"What are the best kinds of strings for musical instruments?"
"Those obtained from Milan, Italy, are considered the best, on account of their transparency and exceeding strength. Most frequently each string is made up of two or three separate strands, twisted together with the utmost care. But there is another use of the greatest value, and that is as a thread for sewing up wounds in internal surgery, because, being of animal matter, the thread will, in course of time, be absorbed into the system, and thus remove itself, without requiring a second operation to remove it from the wound."
"How is it prepared to make it suitable for our purpose!"
"The ones here I thoroughly cleaned at the time, as I knew they would come in handy for particular purposes, but I had no idea of this kind in view at the time. We must soak them and remove the inner and outer lining. Potash, in solution, is best for the purpose. We must then draw them through small holes, to give them uniformity, and keep them in a receptacle which is filled with sulphur fumes. That is for the purpose of fumigating them. They are then ready for the instrument. I think the different sizes will give you a variety."
The directions were carried out, and during the following week the violin was prepared for its initial test. The Professor was pleased with the knowledge that the instrument was ready. It was plain that he expected important results from that source with John. It is well known that music possesses a wonderful power in the treatment of demented people, and he was very anxious to try it in the case of one who had lost all memory.
On the evening appointed the violin was brought in, and the boys had arranged a program. Harry had a fine baritone voice, while George could take a high note and sustain it as well as most sopranos. When all the preliminaries had been arranged, the instrument was produced, and after a little preliminary tuning, George played "America."
At the first strains of the violin, Angel, who was in the loft, came down. He didn't stop to notice anyone but George. This was something so unheard of that he appeared to be hypnotized, as he shuffled over to George, and looked up at the instrument. He appeared to be entranced, and when the music stopped he laid his hand on George's knee, and looked up appealingly. There was not a single motion in his features which showed appreciation or pleasure or excitement; but aside from that every action of his body indicated exhilaration and undue animation.
The boys had eyes for the animal only; but the Professor watched John to the exclusion of everything else. When the first strains vibrated he glanced around, and saw the musician. From that moment until George dropped the violin his eyes never ceased the stare. As the music continued he appeared to be enraptured, if such a thing could be said of a mute expression.
The Professor drew closer to him, and intently watched his eyes, and before the first verse had ended the situation was so intense that the Professor's hand involuntarily beat time, and it was evident that the tremulous motion, which John now and then exhibited, was the inward struggle for light.
Without turning from John, when the music ceased, he cried out to George, in a suppressed tone: "Keep on; keep on!" This brought the boys to the knowledge of the other drama which was being enacted. "Slower, George, slower," was the request of the Professor; and while "America" requires the jubilant strain of action and liberty, he obeyed the injunction.
"Keep it up; can you play 'Home, Sweet Home'?" George could, and did, and as the familiar strains floated through the air, John moved forward, his head drooped down, both hands grasped the chair and he listened with an intentness that was painful to witness.
When George stopped at the whispered suggestion, John raised his eyes and looked around. The look was a different one than they had ever noticed before. When he glanced at the Professor, Harry said: "Did you notice the difference in his eyes?"
He rubbed his hands over his eyes, and stroked his head, and they thought a glimmer of a smile crossed his features. When they were about to retire that night, the Professor could not help but express his gratification at the results achieved through the aid of the violin.
"I could not help thinking how nearly allied Angel and John were in the manner of acting during the course of the music. I have no doubt but in course of time the animal will, just like John, show the facial expressions which characterize either pleasure or pain."
"But I have seen Angel actually laugh."
This was true; it had been noticed on several occasions. But so far John had not laughed, and he had not changed his facial expression in such a manner as to make it noticeable, and the evening's entertainment had done more to affect him than anything which had occurred, and it was their earnest hope that this might be a means to his delivery.
Harry was the only one to notice a field mouse which had appeared soon after George began to play, and the little animal was joined by others, but the subsequent events of the evening attracted his attention, so that no notice was taken of them until they were about to retire, when they scampered away and Harry then related how they had acted.
"That is an interesting thing. Some time ago the keeper of the Central Park Zoölogical Gardens, in New York, employed a violinist to play for the animals, and the results were very interesting. The first animals approached were a lioness and five cubs. The tune played was 'America.' She listened with mute and dignified appreciation, and her five little cubs ranged up alongside in a row, and in the same attitude, all with a wondering expression, and sometimes would act just as you often have seen dogs do, turn their heads aside obliquely, as though the sound could be better understood. The old lion in the adjoining cage also stopped his restless movement, and peered at the player attentively. The next animal was a tigress. When the playing commenced she first looked startled. Her mate entered the cage and escorted her out into the yard while he took up his position and listened, and refused to allow her to return. The hippopotamus, on the other hand, got mad, and sought the water for seclusion. The elephant appeared to be the most discriminating, for while he deliberately turned his back when a plaintive tune was played, was so delighted when a rattling dancing jig was executed, he actually danced about in ecstacies of joy. The wolves, foxes and hyenas could not be made to appreciate any of the tunes, but the monkeys enjoyed all the tunes, if being sad when doleful tunes are played give happiness, and they partook of the exhilaration when lively sounds came from the instrument."