"We shall see, we shall see!" Jack replied.
They made their breakfast of cold venison, carefully saving all that was left, for there would certainly be no game at all upon these barren slopes, which Fawn did not like at all. Outside the cave they slung their guns over their shoulders, for there were no wild animals to be afraid of now. Then, with Jack in front, Ernest following, and Mr. Wolston bringing up the rear, the three began the ascent of the lower slopes.
Ernest computed the height of the range to be eleven or twelve hundred feet. One peak, which rose up almost in front of the pinewood, towered six hundred feet above the ridge line. It was at the summit of this peak that Mr. Wolston desired to plant a flag.
About a hundred yards from the cave the forest belt came to an abrupt end. A few patches of verdure were still to be seen above, grass land with clumps of dwarf trees, aloes, mastics, myrtles, and heaths, attaining a height of six or seven hundred feet, and representing the second belt. But the acclivity was so steep that in some places it exceeded fifty degrees, and they had to tack on the way up.
A circumstance favourable to the ascent was that the mountain side provided a firm foot-hold. There was no reason yet to hold on by the finger nails or have recourse to crawling. The foot got a firm hold on the verdure, broken by roots and jutting points of rock.
So the ascent could be effected without check, zigzagging so as to reduce the angle of inclination, although it would involve fatigue. Before the summit was reached the climbers would be obliged to halt at least once or twice to get their wind. Ernest and Jack, young and vigorous, in constant training and inured to all physical exercise, might not feel over-fatigued, but Mr. Wolston, at his age, could not afford a like expenditure of strength. But he would be quite satisfied if he and his companions were encamped at the foot of the peak before lunch time; it would only take them an hour or two after that to gain the extreme top.
Over and over again Jack was entreated not to imagine himself a chamois. They continued to mount, and, for his part, Mr. Wolston was determined not to cry halt till he had reached the foot of the peak, where the second belt of the range came to an end. That the most difficult part of the task would then be accomplished was not certain. For if, at that height, the eye could see towards the north and west and east, it certainly would not be able to see anything of the country which lay to the south. To do that they must reach the extreme summit. The country towards the Green Valley was known, between the mouth of the Montrose and the promontory of Pearl Bay. So their most natural and legitimate curiosity would not be satisfied until they had climbed to the top of the peak, or, should the ascent of it prove impracticable, until they had succeeded in working round it.
At last, when the second belt had been crossed, a halt at its extremity became imperative. Rest was necessary after such expenditure of energy. It was noon, and, after luncheon, the ascent of the longest incline of the peak could be begun again. Their stomachs were fairly clamouring for food. Physical effort of such a kind is apt to interfere with the digestion. But the urgency was now to fill their stomachs, without troubling to find out beforehand if they would or would not digest easily a meal whose sole solid dish consisted of the last scraps of the antelope.
An hour later Jack sprang to his feet again, leaped onto the first rocks at the foot of the slope, disregarding Mr. Wolston's warnings, and called out:
"Let him who loves me follow me!"
"Well, let us try to give him that proof of our affection, my dear Ernest," was Mr. Wolston's reply, "and above all, let us try to prevent him from making a fool of himself!"
This peak was merely a prodigious pile of rocks, thrown together anyhow. Nevertheless there were ledges and projections on its face on which the foot could find a firm support. Still retaining the lead, Jack tested these and felt his way, and, following him cautiously, Mr. Wolston and Ernest gradually made their way up.
The surface of this third belt of the mountain was barren and desolate. There was practically no vegetation upon it.
Sometimes the surface was as smooth as glass, and a fall would have ended only at the bottom of the peak. Care had to be taken, too, not to displace any of the masses of rock, and so, perhaps, set moving an avalanche which would have rolled right down to the foot of the range.
Granite and limestone were the constituents of this mighty framework of the mountain. There was nothing to indicate a volcanic origin.
The three adventurers got halfway up the peak without mishap. But they could not entirely avoid starting some landslips.
Three or four huge rocks bounded furiously down the steeps to plunge into the depths of the forest below with a roar like thunder, repeated by the many echoes of the mountain.
At this altitude a few birds were still to be seen hovering about, sole representatives of animal life in this third belt, where, however, they did not seek to light. A few pairs of powerful birds of enormous spread of wing, leisurely flapping through the air, occasionally passed over the summit of the peak. Jack was greatly tempted to fire at them, and it would have been a great delight to him to have shot one of these vultures or gigantic condors.
More than once the young sportsman made a movement to raise his gun to his shoulder.
"What for?" Mr. Wolston called out.
"What? What for?" Jack answered. "Why, to——"
And then, without finishing his sentence, he would sling his gun behind him again, and spring forward over the rocks.
Now the upper crest of the slope became even steeper—a regular sugar-loaf. Mr. Wolston began to wonder whether there would be room for three people on the summit. It now became necessary for the traveller ahead to help the next. Jack pulled Ernest up; then Ernest pulled Mr. Wolston up. They had tried in vain to work round the base of the peak. It was only on the north side that the ascent presented difficulties that were not insuperable.
At last, about two o'clock in the afternoon, Jack's ringing voice was heard—the first, no doubt, that had ever resounded from this pinnacle.
"An island! It really is an island!"
A final effort by Mr. Wolston and Ernest brought them to the summit. There, on a narrow space not much more than twelve feet square exhausted, almost incapable of speaking, they lay down flat to recover breath.
Although the sea surrounded New Switzerland on all sides, it did so at unequal distances from the mountain. Widely displayed towards the south, much more restricted towards the east and west, and reduced to a mere bluish rim up in the north, the sea lay glittering under the rays of the sun, now a few degrees below its highest point of altitude.
It was now evident that the range did not occupy the central portion of the island. On the contrary, it rose in the south and followed an almost regular curve, drawn from east to west.
From this point, fifteen hundred feet above sea level, the range of vision was about forty or forty-five miles to the horizon. But New Switzerland did not extend in any direction as far as that.
"I calculate that our island must be a hundred and fifty to a hundred and seventy miles in circumference. That represents a considerable area, larger than the canton of Lucerne," said Ernest.
"What would its extent be, approximately?" Mr. Wolston asked.
"As far as I can estimate it, taking the configuration, which is a kind of oval drawn from east to west, into account, it might measure a thousand square miles," Ernest replied; "say half the size of Sicily."
"There are a good many famous islands that aren't so big," said Jack.
"Very true," Ernest answered; "and one of them, if my memory serves me, is one of the principal islands in the Mediterranean; it is of supreme importance to England, but it is only twenty-two miles long by ten miles broad."
"What is that?"
"Malta."
"Malta?" Mr. Wolston exclaimed, all his patriotism inflamed by the name. "Well, why should not New Switzerland become the Malta of the Indian Ocean?"
To which Jack replied in an aside with the very natural remark that old Switzerland would have done well to keep it for herself, and to establish a Swiss colony there.
The sky was clear, without the faintest haze in the atmosphere. There was not a trace of dampness in the air, and the land stood out in clear relief.
As the descent of the mountain would only take about a third of the time required for the ascent, Mr. Wolston and the two brothers had several hours at their disposal before the time came for them to get back to the pine wood. So they passed the telescope round from hand to hand, and took a careful survey of the vast country which lay spread out below them.
Ernest, with notebook and pencil, traced the outlines of this oval, through which the nineteenth parallel of the Southern Hemisphere ran for about fifty-five miles, and the hundred and fourteenth meridian east for about forty-seven.
In a northerly direction, at a distance of something like twenty-five miles as the crow flies, a good deal could be distinguished.
Beyond the coast line, a narrow edging of sea washed the portion comprised between False Hope Point and the promontory which enclosed Pearl Bay to the westward.
"It's unmistakable," said Jack; "I need no telescope to recognise the Promised Land and the coast as far as Deliverance Bay."
"Quite so," Mr. Wolston agreed; "and at the far end of that opposite angle is Cape East, shutting in Unicorn Bay."
"Unfortunately," Jack went on, "even with this splendid telescope of Ernest's, we can't see any of the country near Jackal River."
"That is because it is hidden by the wall of rocks which bounds it on the south," Ernest replied. "You cannot see the summit of the range from Rock Castle or Falconhurst, and so you cannot see Rock Castle or Falconhurst from the summit of the range. That's logic, I suppose."
"Logic, indeed, most wise philosopher!" Jack answered. "But that ought to be equally true of False Hope Point, and yet there it is, that cape running out to the north, and since we can see it——"
"Although it may be true that you can see this peak from False Hope Point, and even from Prospect Hill," Ernest replied, "the first condition for seeing anything is that you should look for it. The probability is that we have never looked carefully enough."
"The general conclusion," Mr. Wolston added, "is that the range, properly speaking, can only be seen from above the Green Valley."
"That is the position, sir," said Ernest, "and it is those heights that hide Rock Castle from us now."
"I am sorry," Jack went on, "for I am sure we could have made out all our people. If it had occurred to them to go to Prospect Hill, I wager that we should have been able to recognise them—with the telescope, of course. For they are over there, talking about us, counting the hours, and saying: 'They would have got to the foot of the mountain yesterday, and to-day they will be at the top.' And they are wondering how big New Switzerland is, and if it makes a good show in the Indian Ocean."
"Well said, my boy!" laughed Mr. Wolston. "I fancy I hear them."
"And I fancy I see them," Jack declared. "Never mind! I am still sorry that the rocks hide Jackal River from us, and our house at Rock Castle too."
"No good being sorry," Ernest remarked, "when you've got to put up with it."
"It is the fault of this peak," Jack complained. "Why isn't it higher? If it rose a few hundred feet higher into the air, our people would see us from over there. They would signal to us. They would hoist a flag on the pigeon-house at Rock Castle. We would wag them good morning with ours——"
"Jack's off again!" said Mr. Wolston.
"And I am sure that Ernest would see Hannah!"
"I see her all the time."
"Of course; even without a glass," Jack answered quickly. "Ah! the eyes of the heart are long-sighted!"
All that remained was for the explorers to make an accurate survey of the island, noting its general outline and its geologic formation.
On the east, to the rear of Unicorn Bay, the coast showed like a rocky frame enclosing the whole of the desert region which had been previously explored, when the pinnace made her first voyage. Then the cliffs grew lower, and the coast line rose towards the mouth of the Montrose River, where it formed a sharp point to bend back towards the spot where the range rose in the south-east.
Glimpses could be caught of the Montrose, winding like a gleaming thread. The lower reaches of the river ran through a wooded and verdant region; the upper reaches through a barren waste. It was fed by numerous streams from the high levels of the pine wood, and made numerous twists and turns. Beyond the dense forests between the groves and clumps of trees lay a succession of plains and grass lands right to the western extremity of the island, where rose a high hill, marking the other end of the range, twelve or fifteen miles away.
In outline the island was almost exactly the shape of the leaf of a tree.
In the west numerous water-courses gleamed in the sun's rays. To the north and east were only the Montrose and Eastern Rivers.
To sum up, then, New Switzerland, at any rate the five-sixths of it which lay to the north of the range, was a land of wonderful fertility, quite capable of supporting several thousand inhabitants.
As to its situation in the Indian Ocean, it was clear that it belonged to no group of islands. The telescope discovered no sign of land anywhere on the horizon. The nearest coast was seven hundred and fifty miles away, the coast of Australia, or New Holland, as it was called in those days.
But although the island had no satellites lying round its coast, one rocky point rose up from the sea some ten miles to the west of Pearl Bay. Jack levelled his glass upon it.
"The Burning Rock—which isn't burning!" he exclaimed. "And I guarantee that Fritz would not have required any telescope to recognise it!"
Thus New Switzerland, as a whole, was well adapted for the establishment of an important colony. But what the north and east and west had to offer must not be looked for in the south.
Bent round in the form of a bow, the two extremities of the range rested on the coast line, at almost equal distance from the base of the peak which rose in its centre. The portion enclosed within this arc was bounded by a long succession of cliffs, which appeared to be almost perpendicular.
The contrast between the sixth portion of the island and the other five, so generously favoured by nature, was great. The utter desolation of a desert, all the horror of chaos, reigned there. The upper belt of the range extended right to the end of the island, and seemed to be impassable. It was possible, however, that it was connected with the coast line to the south by ravines, gorges, and gullies worn through the steep slopes. The actual shore, sand or rock, where it might be possible to land, was probably a mere narrow strip only uncovered at low tide.
The three were all affected by the melancholy which seemed to be exhaled from this depressing country, and remained silent while their eyes travelled over it. It was Ernest who made the following characteristic remark:
"If after the wreck of theLandlordwe had been cast upon this coast, our tub boat would have been smashed and we should have had nothing but death to look for—death from starvation!"
"You are quite right, my dear boy," Mr. Wolston answered; "on this shore you could hardly have hoped for a chance. Of course, if you had managed to land a few miles farther north you would have found fertile land and the game country. But I am afraid this awful region has no communication with the interior of the island, and I do not know if it would have been possible to get there through the southern side of the range."
"It isn't very likely," Jack put in, "but as we went round the coast we should certainly have come upon the mouth of the Montrose and the fertile part of the island."
"Yes," said Ernest, "provided our boat could have got up towards the east or the west. But the south coast would not have offered us a bay like Deliverance Bay, where we got ashore without any great trouble."
It most certainly was a happy chance that had cast the shipwrecked survivors of theLandlordupon the northern shore of New Switzerland. But for that how could they possibly have escaped the most horrible of deaths, at the foot of this enormous pile of rocks?
The three adventurers decided to remain on the summit of the peak until four o'clock. They took all the bearings necessary to complete the map of New Switzerland—except the southern portion, which must remain incomplete for the present, since they could not see it all. But the work would be completed when theUnicornreturned and Lieutenant Littlestone finished his survey of the island.
Ernest tore a leaf out of his pocket book and wrote the following lines:
"The 30th of September, 1917, at 4 p.m., from the summit of——"
There he broke off.
"What shall we call this peak?" he asked.
"Call it the Peak of Sorrow," Jack answered, "because we can't see Rock Castle from it."
"No, call it Jean Zermatt, boys, in honour of your father," Mr. Wolston suggested.
The suggestion was agreed to with delight. Jack pulled a cup out of his game-bag. Mr. Wolston and Ernest followed suit. A few drops of brandy from the flasks were poured into the cups and drunk with three cheers.
Then Ernest got on with his letter.
"——from the summit of Jean Zermatt Peak, we are sending to you, my dear parents, to you, Mrs. Wolston, and to you, my dear Hannah, this note entrusted to our faithful messenger who, more fortunate than we, will soon be back at Rock Castle.
"Our New Switzerland, a solitary island in the Indian Ocean, is about a hundred and fifty or a hundred and seventy miles in circumference. Most of it is immensely fertile, but on the southern side of the range it is barren and appears to be uninhabitable.
"In forty-eight hours, since the return journey will be easier, we may possibly be back with you, and before the end of another three weeks, God willing, we may hope to set eyes again upon our absent ones, for whose return we are so impatient.
"All love to you, dear parents, to Mrs. Wolston, and my dear Hannah, from Mr. Wolston, my brother Jack, and your affectionate son, Ernest."
The pigeon was taken from its little cage. Ernest tied the note to its left foot and let it fly.
The bird rose thirty or forty feet above the summit of the peak, as if to obtain the widest possible view. Then, guided by its marvellous sense of direction, the sixth sense which all animals seem to possess, it flew rapidly away towards the north and soon was out of sight.
All that now remained to be done was to hoist at the top of Jean Zermatt Peak the flag, for which Mr. Wolston's long stick, driven into the ground between the topmost rocks, was to serve as a flagstaff.
When this was accomplished they would only have to make their way down to the foot of the range, get to the cave, fortify themselves with a substantial meal, for which their guns would provide materials, and then enjoy the rest they had earned by such a tiring day.
The start for home would be made at dawn next day. By following the route already discovered, it was not impossible that they might reach Rock Castle in less than forty-eight hours.
So Mr. Wolston and Jack set to work to plant the stick deeply and firmly enough to withstand the winds, which would sure to be violent at so great an altitude.
"The essential thing," Jack remarked, "is that this flag of ours should be flying when theUnicornarrives, so that Lieutenant Littlestone may see it directly the corvette gets in sight of the island. That will stir the hearts of Fritz and Jenny and Frank and your children, Mr. Wolston, and our hearts, too, when we hear the twenty-one guns saluting the flag of New Switzerland!"
It was quite easy to wedge the staff between the rocks and pack it in with little stones.
Just as he was going to fasten the flag to the staff, Mr. Wolston, who was facing eastwards, looked in that direction. He did with such intensity that Jack asked:
"What is the matter, Mr. Wolston?"
"I again thought that I saw——" he answered. And again he raised the telescope to his eye.
"Saw what?" Ernest pressed him.
"Smoke rising from the shore," Mr. Wolston answered, "unless it is a cloud like I saw before, when the pinnace was off the mouth of the Montrose River."
"Well," said Ernest, "is it passing away?"
"No," said Mr. Wolston; "and it must be at the same spot—at the far end of the range. Can there have been any shipwrecked men, or any savages, camped on that part of the coast for the past few weeks?"
Ernest looked carefully at the indicated spot, taking the glass in his turn, but he could see nothing in that direction.
"Why, Mr. Wolston, that is not where we need look; it's over here, to the south——" And Jack stretched his hand towards the sea beyond the huge cliffs that towered over the shore.
"It's a sail!" Ernest exclaimed.
"Yes, a sail!" Jack repeated.
"There is a ship in sight of the island," Ernest went on, "and she seems to be steering for it."
Mr. Wolston took the telescope and distinctly saw a three-masted vessel moving under full sail six or seven miles out at sea.
Jack shouted, gesticulating wildly.
"It is theUnicorn! It can only be theUnicorn! She was not due until the middle of October, and here she is at the end of September, a fortnight before her time."
"There is nothing impossible in that," Mr. Wolston replied. "But, nevertheless, before we can be positive we must make quite sure which direction she is going in."
"She is making for New Switzerland," Jack declared. "To-morrow morning she will appear to the west of Deliverance Bay, and we shall be there to greet her! Let us be off, Mr. Wolston; let us travel all night!"
Jack, who was just getting ready to slide down the side of the peak, was checked by a final word from Ernest.
"No," he said, "look carefully, Mr. Wolston. The ship is not steering towards the island."
"That is so," said Mr. Wolston, after watching the movement of the vessel for a few minutes.
"Then she is not theUnicorn?" Jack exclaimed.
"No," said Ernest positively.
"Besides," Mr. Wolston added, "theUnicornwould come from the north-west, and this ship is going towards the south-east and away from the island."
There could be no mistake on this score; the three-master was travelling east, without taking any notice of New Switzerland.
"All right!" said Jack. "But theUnicornwill come soon, and at any rate we shall be there to pay the regulation salute to the corvette of His Majesty King George III!"
The flag was hoisted on the summit of Jean Zermatt Peak and blew out into the breeze, while Jack did it the honours with two shots from his gun.
In the evening of that same day M. Zermatt and his wife, Mrs. Wolston and her daughter, were all sitting together in the library after a good day's work.
Of what should they have talked if not of those who had now been away for three days? They felt confident of a happy issue to the expedition into the interior of the island. The weather had been very favourable for it.
"Where ought Mr. Wolston and the boys to be at this moment?" Mme. Zermatt enquired.
"I think they must have reached the summit of the range," M. Zermatt replied. "If nothing occurred to delay them, three days will have sufficed to bring them to its foot, and the fourth would be spent in making the ascent."
"At the cost of much fatigue, and much danger, too, perhaps," said Hannah.
"Not danger, my dear child," M. Zermatt replied. "As for the fatigue, your father is still in the prime of life, and my boys have endured plenty before now."
"Ernest has not all his brothers' endurance," Hannah rejoined.
"Not quite," Mme. Zermatt answered; "and he has always preferred study to physical exercise."
"Come, Betsy," said M. Zermatt, "you must not make out that your son is a weakling! If he has worked with his brains, he has worked quite as hard with his body. My belief is that this expedition will have been no more than a walking tour. If I had not been afraid to leave you three alone at Rock Castle, my dear, I should, in spite of my forty-seven years, have gone on this voyage of discovery."
"Let us wait till to-morrow," said Mrs. Wolston. "Perhaps the pigeon that Ernest took with him will come back in the morning and bring us a letter."
"Why not this evening?" Hannah broke in. "The pigeon could find its loft quite well at night; couldn't it, M. Zermatt?"
"Without a doubt, Hannah. The speed of those birds is so great—thirty miles an hour, some people say—that it could travel the distance from the mountains here in forty or fifty minutes!"
"Suppose I watch until daylight to see if it comes back?" the girl suggested.
"Ah!" exclaimed Mme. Zermatt. "The dear child is dreadfully anxious to have news of her father."
"And of Jack and Ernest too, Mme. Zermatt," Hannah added, kissing her.
"It is a pity that the range is not visible from the top of Rock Castle," Mrs. Wolston remarked. "Perhaps with a telescope we might have discovered whether the flag is flying at the summit of the peak."
"It is a pity, Mrs. Wolston," M. Zermatt agreed. "That is why, if the pigeon does not return in the course of to-morrow morning, I intend to saddle Lightfoot and go as far as the hermitage at Eberfurt, whence one can see the range."
"An excellent idea," said Mme. Zermatt, "but don't let us begin to make plans prematurely, dear, and since it is now time, let us go to dinner. Why, perhaps the pigeon may come back this evening, before we go to bed, and bring us a little word from Ernest!"
"Well," M. Zermatt answered, "it will not be the first time we shall have corresponded that way. Do you remember, Betsy, a long time ago, when the boys sent us news from Wood Grange and Prospect Hill and Sugar-cane Grove? It was bad news, it is true—of the harm those wretched monkeys and other destructive creatures had done; but it was by pigeon post that we got it. I hope the messenger will bring us better news this time."
"Here it is!" exclaimed Hannah, springing up and rushing to the window.
"Did you see it?" her mother asked.
"No, but I heard it go into the pigeon-house," the girl answered.
Her ear had caught the sound of the little trap-door shutting at the bottom of the pigeon-house above the library.
M. Zermatt hurried out, followed by the three ladies. At the foot of the pigeon-house he placed a ladder against the wall of rock, ran up it quickly, and looked inside.
"It has indeed come back!" he said.
"Oh, catch it, catch it, M. Zermatt!" Hannah exclaimed, all impatience.
When she had the pigeon in her hands she kissed its little bluish head, and she kissed it again after she had unfastened the note from its foot. Then the bird was released and went back into its loft, where a handful of grain was lying ready for it.
Hannah read out Ernest's letter. The few lines it contained were satisfactory, announcing the complete success of the expedition. They held a word of affection for every one, and Hannah had her share.
Full of the glad thought that the return would be made in the next forty-eight hours, they all went to their rooms. The message had come; the news was good! They gave thanks to God, and slept peacefully until the sun rose.
This next day was fully employed with household tasks. There was an important piece of work on hand, which could not have been postponed. A number of salmon had entered the mouth of Jackal River, up whose course these fish ascended every year at this season. The help of the absent three was greatly missed. Because of their absence, the fishing was not nearly so productive as it might have been.
During the afternoon all four left their work, crossed Family Bridge, and took the road towards the hermitage of Eberfurt. Mr. Wolston, Ernest, and Jack ought to have reached the defile of Cluse, and it would only take them a couple of hours at most to cover the distance from the farm to Rock Castle.
But the day wore on, and there was no sign of their coming, no barking of the dogs that would certainly have scented their masters, no sound of the gun which Jack would not have failed to fire to announce his return.
At six o'clock dinner was ready. It was kept back for the explorers, and, as they did not come, no one cared to sit down to table.
M. and Mme. Zermatt, Mrs. Wolston and Hannah, took a final walk half a mile or more along the road above Jackal River. Turk and Brownie went with them, but remained quiet and dumb, although they would certainly have been noisy and frantic enough if the two brothers had been anywhere near!
The four returned to Rock Castle, not quite easy in mind, but telling one another that the delay could not last much longer. They sat down to table in anxious mood, with ears alert for every sound outside, and none of them had any appetite.
"Come, come, we must be reasonable," M. Zermatt said at length. "If it took three days to get to the foot of the mountain, why should it not take three days to get back?"
"Quite right, M. Zermatt," Hannah answered, "but does not Ernest's letter suggest that forty-eight hours would be enough?"
"I quite agree, my child," Mme. Zermatt added. "But the dear boy is so anxious to see us again that he has promised more than he can perform."
There was no actual reason for serious worry as yet. But that night none of the inmates of Rock Castle enjoyed the same quiet sleep that they had known the night before.
But what, after all, was only anxiety, became trouble and even agony next day, the 3rd of October, when evening fell. The explorers had not put in an appearance. Such a long delay was inexplicable where such strong and tireless walkers were concerned. Some accident must have befallen them. They ought not to have met with any more difficulties when returning than they had met with when going, and they knew the road. Could it mean that they had decided to take another road—a more difficult, a longer one?
"No," said Hannah. "If they had been obliged to take another road, Ernest would not have said that they would be here in forty-eight hours."
An answer to that was difficult to find. Betsy and Mrs. Wolston began to lose hope. Hannah could not restrain her tears, and M. Zermatt knew not what to say to comfort her.
It was then agreed that if the missing party did not come back to Rock Castle next day, all should go to the hermitage at Eberfurt, since they could only come back by the defile of Cluse.
Evening came; night rolled on. There was no news at all. Nothing could now keep at Rock Castle those who were awaiting them there, a prey to mortal anxiety.
In the morning preparations were hurriedly made. The waggon was harnessed, provisions were put into it, and all took their seats. The cattle started, Brownie running ahead. After crossing Jackal River the vehicle went along the woods and fields which bordered the road to Eberfurt, travelling at its highest possible speed.
They had gone about two and a half miles and had reached the culvert over the irrigation canal which ran into Swan Lake, when M. Zermatt gave the signal to halt.
Brownie had rushed forward, barking faster and more furiously than ever.
"There they are! There they are!" cried Mrs. Wolston.
And, three hundred yards away, two men appeared, rounding a clump of trees.
They were Mr. Wolston and Ernest.
Where was Jack? He could not be far away—a gunshot or two behind, no doubt.
Mr. Wolston and Ernest were welcomed with shouts of joy. But as they did not come on, everyone rushed towards them.
"Where is Jack?" Mme. Zermatt asked.
Neither Jack nor his dog Fawn was there.
"We don't know what has become of Jack," said Mr. Wolston, sadly.
And this is the story he told, a story often broken by the sobs of all who heard it.
The descent from the summit of the peak to the foot of the range had been made in two hours. Jack, the first to get down, shot some game on the fringe of the pinewood. Supper was eaten in front of the cave, a fire was left alight outside, and all three retired within. One kept watch at the entrance while the other two slept soundly.
The night was disturbed only by the distant howling of wild beasts.
From the summit of the peak Ernest had noticed that the forest seemed to be clearer towards the east, and, at his suggestion, the three men went in that direction. It would mean quicker marching, and the distance would only be lengthened by a couple of miles or so.
At eleven o'clock a halt was made. After luncheon the three came on through the thinner forests, where it was easier walking.
About two o'clock they heard heavy trampling and a loud trumpeting noise among the trees.
There could be no mistake whence this proceeded. A herd of elephants was passing through the pinewood.
No, not a herd—only three appeared, two of enormous size, the parents, and behind them a baby elephant.
It had always been Jack's most ardent wish to capture one of these creatures and tame it. The adventurous lad determined to take advantage of this opportunity.
Anticipating an attack, all three put themselves on the defensive, with guns loaded and ready, feeling by no means confident about the issue of a trial of strength with these formidable brutes.
When the elephants reached the end of the clearing, they stopped. Then, catching sight of the three men, they swerved off to the left, without hurrying, and plunged into the depths of the forest.
All danger was over, when Jack, carried away by his irresistible desire, disappeared in the wake of the elephants, followed by his dog Fawn.
"Jack! Jack!" cried Mr. Wolston.
"Come back, Jack! Come back!" cried Ernest.
The reckless young fellow either did not or would not hear.
One more glimpse of him was seen through the thicket. Then he vanished from view.
Full of apprehension, Mr. Wolston and Ernest rushed after him, and in a few minutes reached the clearing.
It was deserted.
Just at this moment the noise of trampling was heard again, close at hand. But no report rang out.
So Jack either had not decided to use his gun yet, or had not been able to.
It would be difficult, however, to overtake him, and it was impossible to pick up his tracks here, where the ground was covered with dead branches and dry leaves.
The tumult gradually died away in the distance. A few branches which had been set a-swaying became still again, and once more the silence of the forest was unbroken.
Mr. Wolston and Ernest beat the fringe of the clearing until evening, wormed their way into the thickest brakes, and shouted to Jack.
Had the unhappy lad fallen a victim to his imprudence? Had he been unable to avoid the elephants' charge? Was he lying motionless, perhaps dead, in some corner of the dark forest?
No cry, no call, reached Mr. Wolston's or Ernest's ears. A few shots, fired at intervals, remained unanswered.
At nightfall, both men, exhausted by fatigue and overwhelmed by anxiety, sank at the foot of the tree, listening intently and trying to catch the faintest sound. They lighted a large fire, hoping that Jack might find his way by its light and join them again, and they did not close their eyes until day.
Throughout these weary hours incessant howling betrayed the proximity of wild beasts. They could not help dreading that if Jack had not been driven to defend himself against the elephants, he still might have fallen in a more dangerous attack by tigers, lions, or pumas.
But he could not be left to his fate. The whole of the following day was spent in seeking his tracks through the pinewood.
It was labour wasted, Mr. Wolston and Ernest plainly saw the way the elephants had passed, marked as it was by heavy footprints, trampled grass, broken branches, and crushed undergrowth. But of Jack himself there was not a sign; not even a sign that he had been wounded, not a drop of blood, not a single mark which might have put them on his track.
There was nothing for it but to go back to Rock Castle, whence they could start again on the search once more in better conditions.
The two traversed the portion of the pine forest which they had crossed that same evening. They walked all night and all day, and in the morning they arrived at the entrance to the defile of Cluse.
"My boy! My poor boy!" Mme. Zermatt murmured over and over again.
She fell into the arms of Mrs. Wolston and her daughter, who were on their knees beside her.
M. Zermatt and Ernest, plunged in grief, could not utter a word.
"This is what we must do, without losing a minute," Mr. Wolston said at last, resolutely.
M. Zermatt turned to him.
"What?" he asked.
"We are going back to Rock Castle, and we will start out from there again this very day to find Jack's tracks. I have thought of everything, my dear Zermatt, and I entreat you to do what I suggest.
"It was in the part of the forest near the sea-shore that Jack disappeared," he went on. "So thither we must go first, and by the shortest way. To return by the road beyond the defile of Cluse would take too long. Let us go aboard the pinnace. The wind is in the right quarter for rounding Cape East, and after that the breeze from the sea will take us back along the coast. If we start this evening we shall reach the mouth of the Montrose before daybreak. We will go on, and we will put in where the range ends. It was in that direction Jack disappeared as he went through the pine forest. By going there by sea we shall gain two days."
The suggestion was agreed to without demur. There was no room for hesitation if they wanted to take advantage of the wind which would bring theElizabethoff Cape East in two or three tacks.
So both families got into the waggon again, and the team was driven so fast that an hour and a half later they were at the gates of Rock Castle.
Their first business was to get the pinnace ready to put to sea for a voyage of several days' duration, in which Mme. Zermatt, Mrs. Wolston, and Hannah were all to share.
In the afternoon, after food had been provided for the animals for a week, the pinnace was about to start when it was prevented by an unhappy mischance.
About three o'clock the wind, which had dropped, veered to the east, and was soon blowing a full breeze. TheElizabethcould have ventured beyond Cape East, although the sea must be running very high outside. But how was she to get so far as the cape against the violent surge which was rolling in from the sea? It would have been extremely difficult for her merely to leave her anchorage, and to get beyond Shark's Island would have been impossible.
It was heart-breaking. To wait and wait, while the least delay might mean the failure of the search! And if these adverse winds continued, if in the course of the evening or the night the weather conditions did not change, they would get even worse.
"Well," said Mr. Wolston, answering questions which rose in every mind, "what we can't try by sea, we will try by land. The waggon instead of the pinnace! Let us get it ready to go back to Eberfurt."
Preparations were at once made. If the journey was to be by waggon, they would have to make for the south-east, in order to work round the pine forest. The team could not have made their way through it, at any rate, not through the portion which Mr. Wolston and Ernest had explored. Thence they would try to reach the eastern extremity of the forest, that is to say, the point where theElizabethwould put into shore, if a change in the wind allowed her to lift anchor. It would mean a delay of thirty-six hours, but that could not be helped.
Hopes for a change in the weather were disappointed. The wind blew constantly from the north-east and got steadily stronger. By evening huge waves were breaking on the beach at Rock Castle. The night threatened to be a bad one, and, in face of these conditions, the plan of the voyage had to be given up.
Mr. Wolston had all the provisions which had been put on board transferred to the waggon. At the same time final attentions were given to the two buffaloes and the onager, in view of a start at daybreak.
Mme. Zermatt was quite broken down, only opening her lips to murmur:
"My boy! Oh, my poor boy!"
Suddenly about eight o'clock, the two dogs, Turk and Brownie, began to show signs of excitement. Mr. Wolston noticed how they ran in front of the verandah across the yard. Brownie was especially restless.
Then distant barking was distinctly heard.
"It's Fawn!" cried Ernest.
Fawn—Jack's dog! Brownie and Turk recognised him too, for they answered by barking more loudly than ever.
M. and Mme. Zermatt, with Mrs. Wolston and Hannah, rushed out of the verandah.
Jack appeared at the gate and flung himself into his mother's arms.
"Yes, I'm all right!" he cried. "But there may be great danger before us!"
"Danger? What danger?" M. Zermatt asked, hugging him.
"Savages," Jack answered; "savages who have landed on the island!"
The two families went back into the dining-room with hearts overflowing with joy, in spite of the disquieting news brought by Jack. Their only thought was that Jack was back again!
Yet could a more serious event have been imagined? Savages were on the coast of New Switzerland! They knew now that the thin vapour seen by Mr. Wolston when the pinnace left the mouth of the Montrose River, and again when he was at the summit of the peak, was the smoke of an encampment pitched on that part of the island.
Jack was faint for want of food. He took his seat at the table with the others, and when he had recovered some of his strength he told the story of his adventures as follows:
"Forgive me, all of you, for the grief and anxiety I have caused you. I let my desire to capture a young elephant run away with me. I did not listen to Mr. Wolston or Ernest when they were calling me back, and it is only by a miracle that I have returned safe and sound! But my recklessness will have this one good result at least—it will enable us to organise a serious defence against these savages if they come as far as the Promised Land.
"Well, I plunged into the very thick of the pine forest after those elephants without any very clear idea, I must admit, of how I should manage to get hold of the smallest one. The father and mother went quietly along, breaking their way through the brushwood, and did not notice that I was following them. Of course I kept out of sight as much as possible, and I went along without its even occurring to me to ask in what direction they were taking me and Fawn, who was as mad as I was, or how I should find my way back! I continued for more than two hours, trying in vain to draw the baby elephant off on a side track.
"As a matter of fact, if I had tried to bring down the father and mother I don't know how many bullets I should have had to use before succeeding, and the only result might have been to infuriate the two brutes and turn them onto me!
"However, I went farther and farther into the heart of the pine forest, keeping no account of time or distance, or of the trouble I should have to join Mr. Wolston and Ernest again, and never thinking—I hope they will not be too angry with me for it—of the trouble I was putting them to if they were hurrying after me.
"I calculate that I must have gone a good five miles to the eastward in this way, and all for nothing. Then a realisation of the position came back to me. Perhaps I was wise after the event; but since the elephants showed no intention of stopping I thought that it would be best I should stop.
"It was about four o'clock. The forest was thinner around me; there were spaces between the trees, and some large clearings. And I think, by the way, that when we want to go to Jean Zermatt Peak it will be best to make straight for the south-east."
"Oh, yes, Ernest's letter told us—you gave it my name," said M. Zermatt.
"It was Mr. Wolston's suggestion that we should do that, papa," Ernest replied.
"Is it not natural, my friend," Mr. Wolston added, "that the highest point in New Switzerland should receive the name of the head of the house?"
"Jean Zermatt Peak, then, let it be," M. Zermatt replied, shaking Mr. Wolston by the hand; "but let Jack go on with his story and tell us about the savages."
"They are not very far off," said Jack.
"Not far off?" Mrs. Wolston exclaimed.
"In my story—in my story, I mean, Mamma dear, for in actual fact they must still be a good twenty-five miles away from Rock Castle."
This answer was somewhat reassuring, and Jack resumed his tale:
"I was in front of a pretty wide clearing in the pine forest then, and I was about to halt, quite determined not to go any farther, when the elephants stopped too. So I held in Fawn, who wanted to fly at them.
"Did it mean that that was the part of the forest where these creatures usually took shelter? There was a stream running between the high grass just at that spot. My elephants—I felt they were mine!—began to drink, sucking the water up through their trunks.
"You will not be surprised to hear that when I saw them standing still, suspecting nothing, my sporting instincts got the upper hand of me again. An irresistible desire seized me to get the little one apart by itself, after I had brought down the other two, even if I had to spend my last cartridge. Besides, two bullets might be enough, if they found the right spot, and is there a hunter who does not believe in lucky shots? As to how I was to capture the baby elephant after I had killed its parents, and how I could lead it to Rock Castle, I did not even give these questions a thought. I cocked my gun, which was loaded with ball cartridges. A double report rang out; but if the elephants were hit they were not much hurt, it would seem, for they merely shook their ears and poured a final draught of water down their throats.
"They did not even turn around to see where the shot came from, and did not bother themselves in the least about Fawn's barking. Before I could fire again, they started off once more, so fast this time, almost as fast as a horse gallops, that I had to give up all idea of following them.
"Just for a minute I saw their huge bulk among the trees, above the brushwood, and their trunks upraised breaking the low branches, and then they vanished.
"It now became a question of deciding what direction I had better take. The sun was sinking rapidly, and the pine forest would soon be wrapped in darkness. I knew that I ought to march towards the west, but there was nothing to show me whether that was to the left or the right. I had no pocket compass, and I have not that kind of sense of direction with which Ernest is gifted.
"Still, I thought I might be able to pick up some tracks of my journey, or rather of the elephants'. But the coming of night made it very difficult to do any tracking. Besides, there were any number of heavy footprints, all crossing one another. And what was more, I could hear some trumpeting in the distance, which made it seem pretty certain that it was along the banks of this stream that the herd of elephants assembled every evening.
"I knew that I should not succeed in finding my way back before sunrise, and even Fawn, in spite of his instinct, had no better idea where he was.
"For an hour I wandered about at random, not knowing whether I was getting nearer to the shore or farther away from it. I blamed myself for my recklessness, and the thought of Mr. Wolston and Ernest unable to make up their minds to abandon me and looking in vain for me was very worrying! It would be I who would have delayed their return to Rock Castle, and what would you be thinking about their delay? I thought of all the anxiety you would feel when we did not return within the time mentioned in Ernest's letter. And then there would be fresh toil and hardship for Mr. Wolston and Ernest, and for all that I was to blame."
"Yes, you were to blame, my boy," said M. Zermatt; "even if you did not think of yourself when you left them, you ought to have thought of them—and of us."
"That, of course," Mme. Zermatt answered, kissing her son; "he has been most reckless and imprudent; it might have cost him his life. But since he is here, we will forgive him."
"I come now," Jack went on, "to the part of my adventures where the situation became much worse.
"Up to that time, certainly, I had not run any very great danger. As I had my gun I was safe to be able to get food, even if it took me a week to find the way back to Rock Castle. Merely by following the coast I should have got there sooner or later. As for the wild beasts, which must be plentiful in that part of the island, I hoped if any attacked me to rout them.
"No; what troubled me was the thought of Mr. Wolston and Ernest losing heart as they looked in vain for my tracks. I thought they must have taken their way through this eastern part of the forest, which was not so dense as the rest. In the case, it was possible that they were not far from the spot where I had just stopped. The worst of it was that night was close at hand. So I thought it would be best to camp where I was, and light a fire. Mr. Wolston and Ernest might see it, and its lights would help to keep off the animals that were howling in the neighbourhood.
"But before lighting it I shouted several times, turning in every direction.
"There was no answer.
"There was the last resource of firing a few shots, and I did so twice.
"I heard no answering report.
"But I thought I could hear, on the right hand, a sort of sliding noise among the grass. I listened and was on the point of calling out when it suddenly occurred to me that it could not be Mr. Wolston or my brother coming from that side. They would have called to me, and we should have been in each other's arms before that.
"So it must mean that there were animals coming up, or perhaps a serpent.
"I had no time to assume the defensive. Four bodies rose up in the darkness—four human beings, not monkeys, as I thought at first! They sprang upon me, jabbering in a language which I could not understand. It was only too evident that I was dealing with savages!
"Savages on our island! In a moment I was thrown down, and I felt two knees pressing on my chest. Then they bound my hands and made me get up, took me by the shoulders and pushed me in front of them, and I had to walk at a rapid pace.
"One of the men had taken possession of my gun, another of my game-bag. It did not seem as if they had any design upon my life—not just then, at any rate.
"We went all night like that—in what direction I could not discover. But I noticed that the forest was gradually getting clearer and clearer. The light of the moon reached right down to the ground, and I felt sure we were approaching the coast.
"I was not thinking much about myself, my dear people! I was thinking of you, and of the danger which the presence of these natives on our island involved! They would only have to go along the coastline as far as the Montrose River and cross that to reach Cape East, and then come down again to Rock Castle! If they got there before theUnicorngot back, you would not be in force enough to beat them off!"
"But did you not say just now, Jack," M. Zermatt asked, "that these savages must be a long way away from the Promised Land?"
"Yes, Papa, twelve or fifteen miles south of the Montrose, and so about twenty-five miles from here."
"Well, in less than a fortnight, and perhaps in less than a week, theUnicornwill be lying in Deliverance Bay," M. Zermatt remarked, "and after that we shall have nothing to fear. But go on with your story."
So Jack proceeded:
"It was not until the morning, after a long march, without a single stop to rest, that we reached the cliffs commanding the shore.
"At the foot was an encampment of about a hundred of these ebony rascals—all of them men, half naked, squatting in the caves hollowed out at the bottom of the cliff. They were fishers—at least, so I imagined—who must have been carried towards our island by the winds from the east, and their canoes were drawn up on the sand. They ran up to me, and looked at me with astonishment and curiosity, as if it were the first time they had seen a white man. But there is nothing surprising in that, since European ships hardly touch this part of the Indian Ocean.
"After they had examined me at very close quarters they resumed their habitual indifference. I was not ill-treated. They gave me a few broiled fish, which I ate hungrily, and I quenched my thirst with water from a stream which came down from the cliff.
"I had a great sense of satisfaction when I saw that my gun, which these savages did not know how to use, and my game-bag had been laid down at the foot of a rock. So I made up my mind to treat these blackamoors to a few shots, if an opportunity presented itself. But the situation was speedily altered by an unexpected event.
"About nine o'clock in the evening, in the outskirts of the forest which ran along the cliffs, there arose suddenly a tremendous uproar which immediately spread dismay among the natives. And you can imagine my surprise when I discovered that the uproar was caused by the arrival of a herd of elephants—thirty of them, at the very least—who were coming slowly along the bank of the stream towards the beach.
"Dismay? It was absolute panic! Evidently this was the first time the natives had found themselves in the presence of these huge animals—beasts with enormously long noses with a kind of hand at the tip!
"And when the elephants lifted their trunks and waved them about and twisted them all together, and all started trumpeting, there was a general stampede. Some scampered off across the rocks, and some tried to shove their canoes into the water, and the elephants looked on at the rout with fatuous amiability.
"I, for my part, merely saw my opportunity, and did not wait for anything more. I did not try to learn what would be the upshot of this meeting between the elephants and the natives, but ran to the cliff, went up the ravine and hurried into cover among the timber, where I found my good old Fawn waiting for me. I need not say that I had secured my gun and game-bag which would be priceless to me.
"I marched all that night and the next day, hunting for food, and only stopping to cook and eat my game, and after twenty-four hours I reached the right bank of the Montrose River, not far from the barrage.
"Then I knew where I was; and I went down to the stream up which papa and I had walked. I had the plains and woods to cross as I went towards the Green Valley, and I got there to-day, in the afternoon. I came through the defile of Cluse, and I cannot tell you, my dear parents, my dear friends, how dreadfully disappointed I should have been if you had started already to look for me along the coast—if I had not found you here at Rock Castle!"
Such was Jack's story.
Who were these natives? Where did they come from? Evidently from the western coast of Australia, the nearest coast, unless, indeed, there was a group of islands somewhere, as unknown as New Switzerland had been until the English corvette arrived. But if these savages were Australians, belonging to a race that is placed lowest in the human scale, it was difficult to explain how they had managed to accomplish a voyage of something like seven hundred and fifty miles in their canoes—unless, perhaps, they had been driven all that distance by bad weather.
And now they had met Jack, and knew that the island was inhabited by men of a race different from their own. What would they do? Would they put to sea in their canoes again, follow up the coast, and end by discovering Deliverance Bay and the dwelling-place of Rock Castle?
It could not be very long, it is true, before theUnicornarrived. Her guns would be heard in another week; a fortnight at latest. And with her anchored within a few cable-lengths, there would be nothing to fear.
So it seemed that it was not a matter of immediate necessity to take precautions to meet an attack by the savages. Moreover, it was quite possible that in the panic caused by the sight of the elephants they had put to sea again. It seemed sufficient that the islanders should keep a watch on the sea opposite Rock Castle.
And so the next day work was begun again, and chiefly the work of completing the chapel.
All took part in this. It was desirable that it should be finished before theUnicornarrived. The four walls had grown already to the height of the roof, and the apse was lighted by a circular bay. Mr. Wolston put in all the timber work, and it was roofed with bamboos which were proof against the heaviest rains. As to the interior of the chapel, Mme. Zermatt, Mrs. Wolston, and Hannah were to decorate it as was proper, and their taste could safely be relied upon.
All this employment continued until the 15th of October, the date fixed for the return of theUnicorn. The length of the voyage being taken into consideration, a variation of a week or a fortnight in the date would not be ground for any uneasiness.
The 19th came, and no report of guns had announced the corvette. So Jack mounted his onager and rode to Prospect Hill, and thence to False Hope Point.
He lost his labour. The sea was absolutely deserted as far as the farthest horizon.
He made the same excursion again on the 27th; again without result.
Then, as was not surprising, impatience began to give place to uneasiness.
"Come, come!" said M. Zermatt frequently, wishing to reassure his little company. "A fortnight, even three weeks, is not an alarming delay."
"Besides," Mr. Wolston added, "are we so sure that theUnicorncould have left England at the date agreed upon?"
"But the Admiralty must have been anxious to take possession of the new colony," Mme. Zermatt remarked, rather ingenuously.
And Mr. Wolston smiled at the idea that the British Admiralty could ever be in a hurry to do anything!
But while they watched the sea in the direction of False Hope Point, they did not neglect to watch it, too, in the direction of Cape East. Several times a day the telescopes were levelled in the direction of Elephant Bay, as they called that part of the coast where the savages had camped.
As yet, however, no canoe had been seen. If the natives had not sailed away again, it seemed that they had decided not to leave their encampment. If, unhappily, they appeared beyond Cape East and came towards Deliverance Bay, it might prove possible to stop them by means of the battery on Shark's Island and the guns placed on the heights of Rock Castle. In any event, it was better to have to meet an attack by sea than one by land, and the greatest danger would be if the savages came from the interior of the island, after forcing the defile of Cluse.
As a matter of fact, an invasion by a hundred of these blacks and an assault by them on Rock Castle, in all probability could not be repulsed. It might perhaps be better on Shark's Island, where resistance could be maintained until the English corvette arrived.
And still theUnicorndid not arrive, and the end of October was approaching. Every morning M. Zermatt and Ernest and Jack expected to be awakened by the firing of guns. The weather was magnificent. The translucent haze on the horizon melted as the sun rose. Far as sight could travel over the open sea, all eyes sought theUnicorn.
On the 7th of November, all joined in an expedition to Prospect Hill. But no sail was passing out beyond the bay. In vain did all eyes scan the horizon to west, east, north! It was from the direction of False Hope Point that they looked for the realisation of their dearest hopes, from the direction of Cape East that disaster might come.
And so all stood in silence upon the summit of the hill, half in hope, half in fear.
END OF "THEIR ISLAND HOME"