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Uncle Robinson by Jules Verne Chapter 23

During supper, Clifton told his wife and his children about the various incidents that marked this excursion. They agreed to postpone the question of the ape to the next day. They rose at an early hour. The children looked through the cracks in the palisade. Their exclamations caught the attention of Clifton and Uncle Robinson.

The orang was still there. Sometimes he leaned against the trunk of a tree with his arms crossed, so to say, and examined the palisade. Sometimes he went up to the door, shook it vigorously and, not being able to open it, he went back to his post of observation.

Everyone gathered behind the stakes to look at him.

“What a fine ape!” Jack shouted.

“Yes,” Belle replied. “How nice he looks. He is not making too many faces at me and I am not afraid of him.”

“But what are we going to do with him?” Mrs. Clifton asked. “He can’t stay there forever watching our door.”

“Could we adopt him?” Uncle suggested.

“Is that what you’re thinking, my friend?” Mrs. Clifton replied.

“Honestly, madame,” Uncle replied, “some apes are well behaved. This one could make an excellent servant. If I am not very much mistaken, he has every intention of attaching himself to us. The only difficulty is that we must find out more about him.”

Uncle laughed all the while but he was not exaggerating in any way. The intelligence of these anthropomorphs is truly remarkable. Their facial angle is not significantly less than that of the Australians and of the Hottentots. Besides, the orang has neither the ferocity of the baboon, nor the thoughtlessness of the macaco, nor the filthy ways of the saguin, nor the impatience of barbary ape, nor the bad instincts of the cynocephalus, nor the bad temper of the cercopithic monkey. Harry Clifton knew some of these ingenious animals and he cited several examples of their quasi human intelligence. He told the children that they knew how to light a fire and to use it. Several apes had been usefully employed in homes. They served at the table, cleaned rooms, cared for clothes, drew water from wells, polished shoes, handled a knife, a spoon, a fork, cleaned dishes, drank wine and liquors, etc. Buffon possessed one of these apes who served him for a long time as a faithful and zealous servant.

“Very well,” Uncle then replied. “Since that’s the way things are, I do not see why this orang should not be given the title of servant to the colony. He seems to be young, his education will be easy and he certainly will become attached to his masters if we are good to him.”

After thinking for a few moments, Harry Clifton turned to Uncle and said to him:

“Are you seriously thinking of adopting this animal?”

“Very seriously, sir. You can see that we will not be obliged to use force to domesticate him nor to pull his teeth as is done in similar circumstances. This orang is vigorous and can be a great help to us.”

“Very well, let’s try it then,” Clifton replied, “and if later his presence becomes too troublesome we will see about getting rid of him.”

That agreed, Clifton asked his children to go back to the grotto. Then Uncle and he left the palisaded enclosure.

The orang had returned to the tree. He allowed his future masters to approach him and looked at them while gently moving his head. Uncle had taken some coconut nuts and offered them to the ape. The latter put them in his mouth and ate them with evident satisfaction. He certainly had a fine figure.

“Well, my boy,” Uncle said to him in a playful tone. “How are you feeling?”

The orang replied with a slight grunt of good humor.

“Would you like to join the colony” Uncle asked, “and enter the service of Mr. and Mrs. Clifton?”

The ape uttered another grunt of consent.

“And you will be content with our food as your full wages?” Uncle added, offering the animal a handshake.

The latter responded with a similar gesture, offering the worthy sailor his hand and uttering a third grunt.

“His conversation is a bit monotonous,” Clifton noted with a smile.

“Good, sir.” Uncle replied. “The best servants are the ones that talk the least.”

However, the ape rose and deliberately went to the grotto. He entered the palisaded enclosure. The older boys were at the door of the grotto and the youngsters were clutching at their mother opening their eyes wide at the gigantic animal. The latter seemed to be inspecting the place. He examined the poultry yard and threw a glance at the interior of the grotto. He then returned to Clifton whom he seemed to recognize as the chief of the family.

“Well, my friend,” Uncle said. “The house suits you? Yes? Understood. To begin with we will give you no wages but later we will double it if we are satisfied with you.”

And so, without further ado, the orang was installed in the Clifton house. It was agreed that they would build a wooden hut for him in the left corner of the yard. As for his name, Uncle asked that they use the name of many American negroes and he was baptized with the name of Jupiter or Jup for short.

Clifton had no reason to fault this new recruit. This orang was amazingly intelligent, exemplary in his gentleness and trained by Uncle for various tasks that he performed perfectly. Fifteen days after his admission into the family, he carried wood that he found in the forest, drew water from the lake in bamboo vases and swept the courtyard. He quickly climbed to the top of a coconut tree to pluck its fruits. Agile Robert could not think of competing with him. During the night he kept guard so keenly that Fido had to be jealous of him. Besides, the dog and the ape made a good team. As to the children, they quickly became accustomed to the ape’s services. Jack teased him and never left his side. Friend Jup let him play his games.

However, the days flew by. The second half of September came by while these activities were still going on. In anticipation of the approaching winter, every kind of reserve was increased. Uncle Robinson built a large covered shed at a corner of the cliff to cut and store the wood. Regular hunts were organized to procure a large number of agoutis and capybara whose meat was salted and smoked. In addition, the poultry yard was populated with gallinules of all kinds to assure the colony fresh meat during the rainy season. They made a clean sweep of the rocks in the south, capturing sea tortoises whose carefully preserved flesh promised excellent soups in the future. Needless to say, the supply of sago was increased to be made into bread, biscuits or cakes, making it an excellent food. The question of food for the winter was very nearly resolved.

Mrs. Clifton was no longer concerned about the question of clothing. Thanks to Uncle’s efforts, there was no lack of fur. There were warm leather clothes of all sizes. It was the same with the shoes. Uncle skilfully made wooden soled shoes, half wood and half leather, to be put to good use in rain or in snow. Some were made into high boots to be used for hunts in the marsh when the frost would harass the aquatic game at the north of the island. As to hats, bonnets or caps, they were made of sea otter skins bright as a button. They could not have done better neither in quality nor in quantity. The otters, in fact, seemed to seek refuge in this part of the Pacific and the children captured several of them by surprise among the rocks of the southwest of the island.

It must be said nevertheless that Uncle still had not been able to give Clifton a fine bear fur coat. There was no lack of traces of bears but until now these animals had not shown themselves. It was principally to the south of the lake on the road to the warren that a large number of their footprints were to be found. Evidently a few of these animals passed this way to drink from the lake. Uncle then decided to use the only way he could to bring about the capture of one of these plantigrades. He confided his plan to Marc. With his help he dug a pit some ten to twelve feet deep and covered the opening under a pile of branches. This was a primitive method but Uncle could do nothing else. He did not have any weapons to attack a bear face to face. He could only hope that by chance on a dark night one of these animals would fall into the pit. Each morning, under one pretext or another, Uncle or Marc visited the pit which unfortunately was always empty.

While all these various occupations were going on, Uncle did not neglect the education of his ape. Besides, he was aided by the animal’s remarkable intelligence. The orang was used with daring and skill for the heavier work. They liked each other a great deal and an insignificant detail occurred which drew them closer. One day Uncle found Jup smoking his pipe, yes, his very lobster shell pipe. The tobacco seemed to give the orang unparalleled pleasure. Uncle, enchanted, told Mr. Clifton about it. The latter was not surprised at all about the news. He cited several examples of apes who were familiar with the use of tobacco. At the end of the day Master Jup had his own pipe which hung in his cabin with a supply of tobacco. Master Jup filled it himself, lit it with a hot cinder and smoked with pleasure. In addition, Uncle offered him a small cup of fermented coconut juice each morning. Mrs. Clifton was afraid this would give him a drinking problem but Uncle invariably said to her:

“Be assured, madame, this ape has received a good education and he will never become an addict.”

There was fine weather for all of the month of September. No rain or heavy wind. There was a refreshing light breeze morning and evening. The leaves from the trees changed color with the beginning of autumn and fell to the ground little by little. The cold season had not yet been felt when one morning, it was the 29th of September, they heard little Jack shouting outside:

“Come Marc! Come Jack! There’s snow outside. Let’s have fun!”

They all got up. There was nothing on the ground between the grotto and the sea. Robert began to make fun of him but Jack pointed to the islet which was all covered with white.

“That’s strange,” Clifton said.

They could not explain the appearance of snow at this time of the year with a brilliant sun so high in the sky.

“Wonderful!” Uncle shouted. “We have a phenomenal island.”

“We must see what it is,” Clifton said.

“Let’s take the boat and cross the channel,” Marc replied.

To launch the boat into the sea was the matter of a moment. In a few strokes of the oars, they reached the islet but no sooner had they touched shore when the supposed layer of snow rose up and spread out over the islet, hiding the sun for a moment. This so called snow was a huge flock of white birds. They disappeared so quickly into the distance that Clifton could not identify them.

However, the rainy season was approaching. The days were getting shorter. It was the beginning of October. There were ten hours of daylight versus fourteen hours of darkness. It was too late to undertake a voyage around the island as Clifton had planned. They now had equinoctial winds and heavy squalls churning up the sea. The frail boat could be exposed to the rocks along the shore or to be lost at sea. They must put off the exploration for the next year.

The evenings were already long with sunset at five thirty. These evenings were spent together as a family with everyone chatting and improving themselves. They made plans for the future. They were quite settled in and accustomed to to their island.

Clifton had to find a way to light up these long winter evenings since they did want to go to bed at sunset. They asked Mrs. Clifton to carefully save any animal fat that could be used to make tallow. But this tallow was in a raw state. Having no sulfuric acid, they could not purify it nor remove its aqueous material. Nevertheless, such as it was, they used it that way. Using a thick wick made from coconut fibers, Clifton made tallow candles that sparkled at first while burning but finally they give something of a light at least around the table where the family gathered. Next year they would think of a better way to light the place using oil instead of fat, “until gas light is installed” Uncle would say, no longer doubting anything.

However, even though the island was perfect and had everything, he declared one evening that there was still something missing.

“What could that be,” Mrs. Clifton asked.

“I’m not quite sure. It seems to me that our island does not exactly exist but that is a trivial matter.”

“I understand you, Uncle,” the engineer replied. “It is not an official place.”

“Exactly.”

“And what is missing is a name.”

“A name, a name!” the children shouted with one voice. “Let’s give the island a name.”

“Yes,” father replied, “and not only a name for the island but also names for the various parts of the island. That will simplify our instructions in the future.”

“Yes,” Uncle replied, “so when we go somewhere we will at least know where we are.”

“Well, let’s use our own names,” impetuous Robert shouted. “I propose we call it the Robert Clifton Island.”

“One moment, my boy,” the engineer replied. “You must not think only of yourself. If we use names of people we hold dear for the capes, the promontories, the watercourses and the mountains of this island, let us also use names that recall for us events and situations. But let’s proceed methodically. First a name for the island.”

The discussion began. Several names were suggested but they could not come to an agreement.

“My word,” Uncle said. “I think we can agree that in every civilized country it is the right of the discoverer to name his discovery and for this reason I propose to call this island Clifton Island.”

“Agreed,” the engineer replied vividly, “but then this honor must be reserved for the real discoverer of this island, to the savior of my wife and my children, to our devoted friend. From now on, this island is called Flip Island.”

Hurrahs were shouted. The children crowded around Uncle Robinson. Mr. and Mrs. Clifton rose and extended their hands to him. The worthy sailor, very emotional, wanted to protest this honor but he had everyone against him and in spite of his modesty, he had to accept. And so the name Flip Island was definitely given to the island and it would appear under this name on modern charts.

Secondary names were then discussed and Uncle had no difficulty getting agreement for the name Mount Clifton for the volcano that dominated the island. The conversation on this subject continued. Geographical names led to interesting debates among the children and the results were these: The bay into which the river emptied was called First Sight Bay because that was where the castaways first saw the island; the river with its winding course took on the name of Serpentine River which was justified.

As to the marsh in the north, near where Uncle found Clifton, that was called Safety Marsh, to the cape at the northern end of the island, Senior Cape, and to the one at the southern end of the island, Junior Cape in honor of Marc and Robert, to the lake the name of Lake Ontario so the abandoned family could remember their absent country, to the channel between the islet and the shore the name Harrison Channel in memory of the unfortunate captain of the Vancouver, and to the islet the name of Seal Islet. Finally, to the port situated between the beginning of First View Bay and the mouth of the river the name of Deo Gratias, a recognition that God had so evidently protected the abandoned family.

Belle and Jack were a little regretful that their names had been omitted from this geographical list but Mr. Clifton promised to use them with the first discoveries that would be made on the island.

“As for your wonderful mother,” he added, “her name will not be forgotten. Uncle and I will build a comfortable home which will be used as our principal residence and this place will be carry the name of the one cherished by everybody. It will be called Elisa House.”

This last idea was vividly applauded and the courageous mother received no end of kisses.

The discussion was prolonged into the evening. It came time to go to sleep. Mother and children retired to their beds of hides and moss. Master Jup himself had already gone to his hut.

Before going to sleep, Uncle and Clifton went alone as usual to examine the surroundings around the grotto. When they were alone, Uncle thanked the engineer once more for giving the island his name.

“We now have a real island,” he said, “whose existence is legally verified and which can be placed on the maps with pride and note, sir, that we can claim the right to have discovered it.”

“My worthy friend,” Clifton replied, “it is important to know if Flip Island was inhabited before our arrival on these shores and, I say again, if it has other inhabitants.”

“What do you wish to say, sir?” Uncle shouted. “Have you some indication of this?”

“I have one,” Clifton replied, lowering his voice, “only one. I have no need to tell you that there is no purpose in causing our small colony any anxiety.”

“You are right, sir,” Uncle said. “What is it?”

“This. You remember the cock with the horn which we captured and which is now acclimatized to our poultry yard?”

“Perfectly,” Uncle replied.

“Well, my friend, I do not believe that his horn, this appendage that our cock carries on its head is a natural one. When this cock was a young chicken someone made a cut in its crest and implanted this false spur at the very base of its crest. After fifteen days this graft took root and is now an integral part of the bird. It is the work of a human hand.”

“And how old is this cock?” Uncle asked.

“Barely two years old which proves that in the last two years men, probably white men, were on our island.”

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Uncle Robinson by Jules Verne Chapter 21

While the voyagers were away, Mrs. Clifton had prepared a meal with the remainder of the game killed the previous day. At twelve thirty everyone began to descend the slopes of the mountain. The tree zone was crossed at right angles and they reached the river in the upper part of its course, that is to say above the cascade. At this point it formed a real rapid and its current foamed on the heads of black rocks. The site was extremely savage. After crossing an inextricable jumble of trees, creepers and brambles, they reached the boat. There they placed the provisions, plants and various things collected during the exploration. The boat moved rapidly down the waterway. At three o’clock they reached the entrance to the lake. The sail was hoisted and the boat, running on a close hauled tack, arrived at the lower rivercourse. At six in the evening everyone was back at the grotto. The first word from Uncle was an exclamation. The palisade enclosure bore evident traces of damage. Someone had tried to force it and uproot some posts which fortunately held secure.

“It was those nasty monkeys,” Uncle said, “who paid us a visit during our absence. They are dangerous neighbors, Mister Clifton, and we must do something about it.”

After this fatiguing day, the travelers had an irresistible need to go to sleep. Everyone went to his sleeping place. The fire had not been lit so there was no need to watch it but the night passed pleasantly. The next day, Wednesday June 2nd, Uncle Robinson and the engineer were the first to wake up.

“Well then, Mister Clifton!” Uncle shouted with joy.

“Well then, my worthy friend!” the engineer replied with resignation. “Since we are islanders, let’s act like islanders and organize ourselves as if we will always be here.”

“Well spoken, Mister Clifton,” Uncle replied with confidence. “I say again that we are well off. We will make a Garden of Eden with our island. I say our island because it really is ours. Notice that if we have nothing to expect from other people, we no longer need be afraid of them. That must be taken into consideration. Has Mrs. Clifton adjusted to the new situation?”

“Yes, Uncle. She is a courageous woman and her trust in God will not fail her.”

“He will not abandon her,” Uncle said. “As to the children, Mr. Clifton, I am certain that they are enchanted to be here.”

“Then, Uncle Robinson, there is nothing you regret?”

“Nothing, or rather yes, only one thing.”

“What is that?”

“Must I say it?”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“Well then, tobacco. Yes, tobacco. I would give one of my ears to be able to smoke a pipe.”

Clifton could not hold back a smile while listening to the sailor express his regret. Not being a smoker himself, he could not understand the addiction created by this habit. Nevertheless, he resolved to try to satisfy Uncle Robinson some day.

Mrs. Clifton had asked for the establishment of a poultry yard. Her husband believed that he should begin his permanent installations on the island with this building. Near the palisade enclosure, at the right, he built a second enclosure with an area of hundred square meters. The two enclosures were in contact with each other through an interior door. The work was completed in two days. Two small huts made of branches were divided into compartments only waiting for the arrival of their guests. The first of these was the tinamou couple that had been taken alive during the preceding excursion. Mrs. Clifton cut their wings. Their domestication was easy. For companions they gave them a few ducks that frequented the shores of the lake who were content with the water in the bamboo vases that was renewed every day. These ducks belonged to this Chinese species whose wings open like a fan and who rival the gilded pheasants with the brilliance and brightness of their plumage.

During the weekend, hunts were organized for the purpose of populating the poultry yard. The children captured a gallinaceous couple with rounded tails made of long feathers. They could mistaken for turkeys. They were alectors who were not long in becoming tame. All of this miniature world, after several disputes, ended by coming to terms and soon increasing in reassuring proportions.

Clifton, wanting to complete his plan, built a pigeon house in a friable part of rock. Some dozen pigeons were lodged there whose eggs furnished the family with important nourishment. These pigeons easily became accustomed to return to their new dwelling each evening. Besides, they showed more of a tendency to become domesticated than their congeners, the wood pigeons, who would only reproduce in the wild state.

During the first fortnight of June, Uncle Robinson made some marvels in the art of ceramics. We will remember that the boat had carried a certain quantity of argile useful for making large pottery. Not having a wheel, Uncle was content to make his pots by hand. They came out somewhat awkward, somewhat deformed, but they still were pots. During the baking of these utensils, not knowing how to regulate his fire, a certain number broke, but very fortunately there was no lack of argile and after a few fruitless attempts, he could give the family some half dozen pots or dishes that could give acceptable service. One of them was an enormous pot worthy of the name boiling pot.

Since Uncle was occupied with making these household articles, Clifton, sometimes with Marc, sometimes with Robert, made some excursions within a radius of a league around the grotto, and so he visited the marsh full of game, the warren that seemed to be inexhaustible, and the oyster bed whose precious products were carried to the oyster park. He was always on the lookout for some cryptogamous 1 useful for replacing the amadou, but he still could not find it. It was at this time that by chance he was able to satisfy one of Mrs. Clifton’s strong wishes. Mrs. Clifton was always asking for some soap for washing the clothes. Clifton had intended to make some by treating animal fat, oil or grease, with soda made from the incineration of marine plants but the operation was a long one and he was able to avoid doing it thanks to finding a certain tree of the pine family. It was the savonnier whose fruits work up an abundant lather in water to replace ordinary soap. The engineer knew that these fruits could wash sixty times as much linen by weight as soap could. Mother used them immediately with success.

Harry Clifton also wanted to get, if not cane sugar which can only be found in the tropics, at least some analogous substance from a maple tree or any sacchariferous tree 2. He was constantly looking for it in the wooded parts of the island.

It was during one of these excursions made in the company of Marc, that Clifton discovered a vegetable product that would give exquisite pleasure, because it would allow him to satisfy Uncle Robinson’s only wish.

On the 22nd of June, Marc and he were exploring the right bank of the river in the wooded portion to the north. While crossing through some tall grass, Marc was surprised by the odor emanating from certain plants with straight cylindrical branchy stems in the upper part. These plants were very sticky and produced small clustered berries. Marc tore off one or two stems and returned to his father, asking him to identify the plant.

“And where did you find this plant?” father asked.

“There in the clearing,” Marc replied, “where it grows abundantly. It seems to me that I know it but...”

“Well,” Clifton said, “you made there, my child, a very precious discovery. There will no longer be anything lacking for Uncle’s happiness.”

“Then it is tobacco!” Marc shouted.

“Yes, Marc.”

“And what happiness!” the lad shouted. “What joy for worthy Uncle! But we must not say anything to him, father. You will make a fine pipe for him and one fine day we will present him with a full pipe.”

“Agreed, Marc.”

“Will it be difficult to transform these leaves into smoking tobacco?”

“No, my child. Besides, if this tobacco is not of the first quality, it is nevertheless tobacco and Uncle will not ask more of it.”

Clifton and his son gathered a good quantity of this plant and they brought it into the grotto “deceitfully” with as much precaution as if Uncle had been the most severe of customs inspectors. The next day, during the absence of the worthy sailor, the engineer, having detached the smallest leaves, left them to dry, intending to chop them later and to subject them to a certain torrefaction over some hot stones.

However, Mrs. Clifton was always occupied with the question of clothing. There were enough skins from the seals and blue foxes but the difficulty was to piece them together without a sewing needle.

On this subject, Uncle told how he had once swallowed the an entire box of needles “by accident” he added, but unfortunately these needles had exited his body little by little, which he now regretted. However, with long thorns and coconut thread, Mrs. Clifton, helped by little Belle, was able to make a few large coats. Uncle, who, like all sailors, knew how to sew, did not spare his help and his advice.

The month of June came to an end when all these activities were completed. The poultry yard prospered and the number of its hosts increased every day. Agoutis and capybara frequently fell under the boys’ arrows. Mother quickly transformed them into smoked hams assuring provisions for the winter. They need not fear any famine. The engineer also thought of making an enclosure for wild quadrupeds, moufflons and others, to capture and domesticate them. He decided on a large expedition for this purpose to be held at the northern part of the island, fixing the date for it on July 15th. Clifton also wanted to see if the island contained any specimens of this artocarpus tree which would be useful. The breadfruit tree grows as high as this latitude. They had no bread in their diet and several times Master Jack begged for a piece.

However, the time was ripe for the colony to acquire wheat flour. Belle, turning her pocket inside out one day, saw a grain of wheat fall out, but only a single grain. The little lady ran into the grotto with joy. She showed he grain of wheat to everyone triumphantly.

“Good!” Robert shouted mockingly, “What shall we make with it?”

“Do not laugh, Robert,” Clifton replied. “This grain of wheat is as precious to us as a nugget of gold.”

“Without a doubt, without a doubt,” Uncle replied.

“A single grain of wheat,” father repeated, “produces an ear; an ear can yield up to eighty grains so our little Belle’s grain contains a full harvest.”

“But why did you find this grain in your pocket?” Mrs. Clifton asked her little girl.

“Because I sometimes gave some of it to the chickens on board the Vancouver.”

“Well,” the engineer said, “we will take care of your grain of wheat, we will plant it next season and one day you will have cakes to eat, my child.”

Belle was enchanted with this promise and all afire as if she were Ceres herself, the goddess of the harvest.

The day fixed for the excursion to the northeast of the island arrived. It was agreed that this time Marc would stay with his mother, Jack and Belle. Clifton, Uncle and Robert would plan on going quickly and possibly returning as soon as possible that very evening. At four o’clock in the morning, the 15th of July, they were on their way. The boat took them on the river to the point where the cliff ended in the north. There they debarked and instead of turning the marsh by going toward the shore, they went directly northeast.

Already it was no longer the forest because the trees were grouped in isolated clusters, but it was still not a plain. Bushes grew here and there on uneven ground. Among the trees, Clifton recognized several new species, among others the citron trees in a wild state. Its fruits were not as valuable as those from Provence, but they contained a sufficient quantity of citric acid and they had the same sedative property. Uncle Robinson plucked some dozen of them which would be well received by Mrs. Clifton.

“Because,” the worthy sailor added, “we must think of our pantry in everything that we do.”

“Well then,” Clifton replied, “if I am not mistaken, here is a plant that will delight her.”

“What, these dwarf trees?” Robert shouted.

“Without a doubt,” Clifton replied. “They belong to the ericine genre 3 and contain an aromatic oil with a pleasing odor which is antispasmatic. It is found in North America where it is vulgarly called palommier. You must know this plant, Uncle Robinson.”

“I must know it but I don’t know it.”

“As palommier perhaps, but as mountain tea or Canadian tea?”

“Ah! Sir, you said it right!” Uncle replied. “I know this Canadian tea well. It is the tea of the emperor of China. Unfortunately it is sugar that we still do not have but we will find that later. Let us collect this tea as if the beets were growing in our fields and as if our sugar mills were ready to go into operation.”

They followed Uncle’s advice. The tea joined the citrons in the bags of the voyage. Clifton and his two companions then continued with their journey to the northeast. The birds were numerous in this part of the island but they flew from tree to tree not allowing anyone near them. For the most part, they were finches of the order of sparrow, recognizable by the two short jaws of their beak. Besides, from an edible point of view, they were not worth an arrow. However, Robert skilfully killed a few gallinaceous from the tridactyl 4 group which have long pointed wings. The upper part of their bodies are an ashen yellow with black rays and bands. These tridactyls walk poorly but they fly very fast which however did not save them from Robert’s arrows.

At about eleven o’clock in the morning, they halted near one of the sources of the river. Lunch consisted of a piece of cold capybara and rabbit mixed with aromatic herbs. The river source furnished fresh water. Uncle added some citron juice which softened the raw taste. They then continued on their way. Clifton was always thinking of his amadou and he was astonished that he still had not found this parasitic plant which counts more than ten thousand species and grows naturally everywhere on earth.

At this moment a rustling of wings was heard in a thicket. Robert leaped forward preceded by a growling Fido.

“Well done, Fido, well done!” Robert shouted.

This recommendation would not have been followed if Robert had not arrived promptly. Fido’s victim was a magnificent wild cock that the lad could still take alive. Clifton was not mistaken about the origin of this gallinule. It evidently belonged to the domestic race of medium height of a variety called the Benthane cock. The feathers of its ankle make a sort of cuff. However, one feature of this animal caught Robert’s attention.

“Look, a cock with a horn on its head.”

“A horn!” Clifton shouted, examining the animal.

“In fact,” Uncle replied, “a horn firmly implanted at the base of its comb. This cock would be fierce in combat. Well, Mr. Clifton, I who have seen everything have never seen a cock with horns!”

Harry Clifton did not know what to say. He looked at the bird in a strange way and all he could say was:

“Yes, it really is a Benthane cock!”

Uncle tied the bird’s wings. He wanted to carry it alive to the poultry yard. The voyagers then continued their excursion turning a bit to the east to join the watercourse. However, neither mushrooms of the polypore genre nor morils that could take the place of amadou were found. Fortunately they did find a plant that could be used for this purpose. The plant belonged to this large family of composite flowers. It was the artemise, vulgarly called armoise which counts among its principal species the wormwood, the citron tree, tarragon, alpine wormwood, etc. This species was Chinese armoise or omoxa armoise covered with a cotton down. It was frequently used by the doctors of the Heavenly (Chinese) Empire.

Clifton knew that the leaves and stems of this plant, covered with long silky hair would catch fire from a spark when they were thoroughly dried.

“At last, this is our amadou,” Clifton shouted.

“Good!” Uncle replied with joy. “Our day has not been wasted. And all I can see is that Providence always gives us the best. That is all I can see. It must not do otherwise. We can depend on it.”

They collected a certain quantity of the armoise and then went southwest. Two hours later they reached the right bank of the river and at six o’clock in the evening the family was reunited at the camp. For supper they had a spiny lobster caught by Marc among the rocks at the point. Clifton described all the details of their excursion. The Benthane cock was placed in the poultry yard where it was the finest ornament.

But when the meal was over there was a big surprise, even an emotional one, for Uncle Robinson. Belle came to him and gave him a glossy red lobster leg shell stuffed with tobacco. At the same time Jack presented him with a hot cinder.

“Tobacco!” Uncle shouted, “and you said nothing about it to me!”

In spite of himself, the worthy sailor blinked his wet eyes. The pipe was soon lit and a fine odor of tobacco filled the air.

“You saw it well, my worthy friend,” Clifton then said, “that Providence which has already given us everything, reserved yet another surprise for you.”

1.The cryptogamous are plants whose reproductive organs are barely visible like the ferns and the mosses.
2.Which produces a sugary substance.
3.Or ericacea plants, which comprise the heather, the strawberry trees, rhododendrons and azaleas.
4.Birds whose feet have three digits.

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Uncle Robinson by Jules Verne Chapter 22

Uncle Robinson was at the peak of happiness; a superb island, an adorable family and a pipe of tobacco! If some vessel had presented itself at this moment he would certainly have hesitated to abandon this corner of the earth.

And yet there still were some things that the colony needed. Harry Clifton had to know not only how to provide for the future but he also could not neglect his children’s education. He had no book to put into their hands but he himself was a veritable living encyclopedia. He taught them relentlessly on every subject, drawing the best lessons from nature. Example immediately followed theory. The sciences, especially natural history, geography, then religion and ethics, were practiced every day. As to philosophy which gave one a sense of right and wrong, what better teacher could they have than Uncle Robinson who was better than any professor from Oxford or Cambridge? But nature was their best teacher and Uncle was the perfect disciple of that school. As to Mrs. Clifton, with her woman’s tenderness and the dignity of a mother, her love bound the little world together. She was the soul of the colony.

We will remember that during the excursion to the mountain, the voyagers had been able to acquire a certain quantity of sulfur. The engineer intended to make some sort of gunpowder if by chance he could discover some saltpeter. Now, precisely on the 20th of July, while he was exploring some cavities in the northern part of the cliff, he found a sort of humid grotto whose walls were covered with deposits of sodium nitrate salts. Over the ages, this salt was deposited on the surface of the granite through capillary action.

Clifton told Uncle about his discovery and announced his intention to make powder.

“I cannot obtain a perfect powder,” he added, “because I cannot separate the impurities from the saltpeter by refining so I will be forced to use it in its natural state, but it will still give good service to break up rocks and create explosions.”

“Good, sir,” Uncle replied. “We will be able to build a powder magazine near the grotto.”

“Besides,” Clifton added, “we can saltpeter the courtyard ground. Mixed with saltpeter and pounded in, it will become rainproof.”

This was the major use for the saltpeter. The courtyard and even the very soil in the grotto was pounded in and took on the consistency of granite. Mother made it shine like a wooden floor.

The engineer went on to make the powder. The children followed all the details with interest. Even though the colony had only one pistol, they acted as if they had to provide an entire artillery regiment.

Saltpeter, sulfur and charcoal must be intimately mixed in order to develop the powerful gas forces needed in firearms or in mines. Clifton had saltpeter and sulfur. He needed charcoal. This was easy. Instead of chestnut or the poplar wood which is used to make war powder, the engineer used the elm whose charcoal is especially suited for mines. He chose a few young branches and used the bark to make cinders. He carbonized them in pits.

Needless to say, the engineer knew the proper proportions. In a hundred parts, the powder contains seventy five parts of saltpeter, twelve and a half parts of sulfur and twelve and a half parts of charcoal. These three substances were subjected to various grinding operations, moisturized and finally pounded with a wooden pestle in a thick clay bowl made by Uncle. Clifton obtained a sort of large pancake which could only be used if it was granulated.

This was a difficult but indispensable part of the operation. In fact, if the powder remains in a compact form, it will detonate but the detonation will not occur simultaneously throughout and no explosive effect will result. It will be a detonating mixture but not an explosive mixture.

The engineer tried to obtain any kind of granulation. The powder was reduced by pulverization and left to dry for two days. It was broken into pieces with the fragments placed in a flared clay vase. By means of a cord and a pulley from the boat, he was able to impart a rather rapid gyratory motion to it. After determined and fatiguing work, he obtained a powder in large, sharp, unpolished form, but it was granular at last. The explosive material in this form was exposed to the sun’s heat and it dried completely.

The next day, Robert did not stop urging his father to experiment with the new product. The pistol was cleaned and made ready. The flint was put in place, and charged and primed. Robert wanted to be the first to fire it, but Uncle himself wanted to make the trial since he did not want to expose the boy in case the powder exploded prematurely. Besides, he took the necessary precautions so that he himself would not be injured.

The gun was fired. The ignition of the powder in the chamber did not proceed rapidly it must be said but it finally caught on and, half ignited, half detonated, it pushed out a stone cannon ball placed there by Uncle.

The hurrahs were louder than the detonation itself. It was the children shouting with joy. At last they had a gun. They had to let Marc and Robert each take a try at it and they were enchanted with the results. In sum, it seemed that the powder left much to be desired for use as gunpowder but it could, at least, be used in a mine.

During these various activities, Mrs. Clifton was occupied with overseeing the prospering poultry yard. The gallinules had been successfully domesticated so why not quadrupeds? Clifton decided to build a special enclosure of several acres which he chose to the north of the lake about a mile from the camp. It was a grassy prairie fed by the water from the river. The perimeter of the new enclosure was traced out by the engineer and Uncle was occupied with choosing, cutting down and squaring the trees destined to become the posts of the palisade. The work was hard but it was carried out without delay nevertheless because Uncle counted on populating it before the coming spring. We should understand that as a result of this activity, there were frequent visits to the forest. Uncle planned it so that the cutting of the necessary trees laid out a pathway to make for easier exploitation of the area.

During one of these excursions, the engineer discovered a precious tree of the cycadacea 1 family, very common in Japan, whose presence seemed to prove that the island was not located as far north as they had assumed.

On this day, after a excellent dinner in which neither fish nor meat were spared, Clifton said to his children:

“Well then, my children, what do you think of our life? Is there anything you lack?”

“No father,” Marc, Robert and Jack replied with one voice.

“Not even food?”

“That would be difficult to name. We have so much game, fish, mollusks and fruit. Who needs anything else?”

“Ah, yes!” said little Jack.

“Which is?” father asked.

“Cakes.”

“There is our gourmand,” Clifton replied, “but the boy is right. However, we have no cakes because we have no bread.”

“That is true,” Flip said, “we forgot about bread. But don’t be anxious about that, my lads. We will make that when Miss Belle’s grain of wheat is planted.”

“We will wait a long time for that,” Clifton replied, “but this very afternoon I discovered a tree that produces an excellent flour.”

“Is it sago!” Marc shouted. “Like in Swiss Family Robinson!”

“Sago,” Uncle replied, “but it is an excellent food. I ate some of it on the Molucca Islands were one finds entire forests of sagoes with each trunk containing perhaps as much as four hundred kilograms of this tasty and nutritious paste. That is a precious discovery that you made there. Onward to the forest of the sagoes!”

Uncle got up and reached for his axe. Clifton stopped him.

“One moment, Uncle Robinson,” he said. “Let us not speak of a sago forest. That tree is a product of tropical countries and our island is very certainly situated to the north of the tropics. No! We simply have here a vegetable belonging to the cycadacea family which produces a substance similar to sago.”

“Well then, sir. We will treat it as if it is sago.”

Clifton and Uncle, leaving the children at the grotto, soon took to the road to the forest and reached the river that they had to cross.

“Sir,” Uncle said, stopping at the bank, “we must decide to build a bridge here because we must always bring the boat here which will be a waste of time.”

“I agree,” the engineer replied. “We will make a drawbridge to get us to the left bank. It will form our natural frontier on this side. Let us not forget that this river covers the north and protects us from wild animals.”

“No doubt,” Uncle replied, “but they can get through because a southern route is open to them.”

“And who is to prevent us,” Clifton said, “from blocking this passage be it with a long palisade or with a diversion of the waters from the lake. Who is to stop us?”

“It will not be me,” Uncle Robinson replied, “but while waiting for our bridge to be built, I will cut down a trunk that will take us to the other side.”

A few minutes later, Clifton and Uncle moved through the forest in a northeast direction. Fido, who was with them, drove many capybara and agouti out of the bushes. Uncle remarked that several groups of monkeys were scampering about the branches but so rapidly that they could not recognize the species they belonged to.

After walking for a half hour, the two companions reached the edge of the forest on a vast plain covered with clusters of trees resembling sago trees. These were the trees that had attracted Clifton’s attention. These trees, belonging to the sago palm species, showed a single stem covered with a scaly bark which held striped leaves with small parallel veins. They were rather small making them more like bushes than trees.

“In their trunk,” Clifton shouted, “these precious vegetables carry a nourishing flour that nature has given us fully ground.”

“Mr. Clifton,” Uncle replied, “nature does well in everything it does. What would become of a poor devil thrown on a deserted shore if nature did not come to help him? You see, I have always thought that there are islands for castaways, created especially for them, and most certainly this island is one of them. And now, to work!”

That said, Uncle and the engineer cut some palm branches and then, not wanting to carry excess wood, they decided to extract the flour on the spot.

The trunk of the palm was composed of a glandular texture. It enclosed a certain quantity of floury pith, traversed by ligneous bundles and separated by rings of the same substance arranged concentrically. This flour was mixed with a gummy sap with a disagreeable taste that would be easy to remove by pressure. This cellular substance formed a real flour of superior quality. A very small quantity was enough to nourish a man. Clifton told Uncle that the exportation of this precious vegetable was formerly prohibited by Japanese laws.

After a few hours work, the two companions extracted a large quantity of flour. With a full load they took the road back to the encampment. On returning to the forest, Clifton and Uncle Robinson found themselves among many groups of monkeys. This time they were able to observe them carefully. They were tall animals and could be regarded as among the highest order of the quadrupeds. The engineer could not be mistaken about that. That would make them either chimpanzees or orangs or gibbons, certainly belonging to the anthropoid apes, so called because of their resemblance to the human race.

These animals could become formidable adversaries because they were powerful and intelligent. Had these already seen men? What did they think of these bipeds? Whatever the case, they made contortions and grimaces while Clifton and Uncle passed by at a steady pace, not anxious for a battle with these fearful animals.

“Sir,” Uncle said. “We could have quite a problem with these jolly fellows.”

“In fact,” Clifton replied, “it is certain they have seen us. It would be unfortunate if they followed us to the grotto.”

“We need not fear that.” Uncle said. “The river will soon stand in their way but let us move on.”

The two companions moved on quickly without provoking the grimacing troop neither with a gesture nor by looking at them. The apes, about a dozen of them, continued to escort them. From time to time, one of them who seemed to be the leader of the band, came closer to Clifton or to Uncle, looked at them face to face and then returned to his companions.

Under these conditions, the engineer was able to observe him closely. This orang was six feet tall. He had an admirably proportioned body, a large chest, a head of average size with a facial angle of sixty five degrees, a rounded cranium, a prominent nose, a skin covered with a sleek, gentle and glossy hair, in short an accomplished type of anthropomorph. His eyes, a little smaller than human eyes, shown with a vivacious intelligence. His white teeth showed through his moustache and he had a small beard with a hazel color.

“My word, a fine lad,” Uncle murmurred.

However, Clinton and he moved on quickly. Little by little they saw with satisfaction that the group dispersed themselves in the woods. The escorting group were reduced to three or four apes and soon the large orang was the only one following them. This animal had attached himself to them with an incomprehensible stubbornness. They could not for a moment think of outdistancing him. With his long legs, he could move at top speed.

Clifton and Uncle finally reached the river at four o’clock. They easily found the place where they had moored the temporary raft. There they had to decide what to do about the ape.

The orang came right up to the bank. He looked at the two men unloading their provisions on the raft and he observed all their movements with interest. He walked along looking at the other side and seemed little disposed to abandon his travelling companions.

“This is the moment when we part company,” Uncle said.

The cable was detached. Clifton and Uncle jumped on board and began to move away from shore. But in a flash the orang threw himself on board, landing at the edge of the raft at the risk of capsizing it. With his ax in hand, Uncle dashed toward the ape but the latter stayed put, staring at him and demonstrating no hostile intentions.

Uncle lowered his weapon. This was not the time to start a fight which would be a dangerous one under these conditions. Once on the other side, they would decide on the best course of action.

They crossed the river. Uncle and Clifton disembarked. The ape did likewise and followed them along the road to the grotto. They went around the north shore of the lake, passed the coconut trees and skirted the cliff with the ape close behind. They finally arrived at the palisade, opened the door and quickly closed it behind them.

Night came on, a night of thick clouds making for poor visibly. Was the ape still there? Yes, because several times throughout the night they heard a strange cry that disturbed the silence of the night.

1.An exotic shrub, a sort of palm with a flour that has given it the name of bread tree.

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Uncle Robinson by Jules Verne Chapter 20

he family went on its way. Uncle and his two friends, Marc and Robert, carried their bows and arrows and surveyed this new land. Mr. and Mrs. Clifton came behind them with Jack and Belle frolicking about, running and tiring themselves uselessly whatever one could tell them.

The ground was uneven evidently convulsed by plutonic forces. They noticed many basalt debris and pumic rocks. They saw more and more evidence of the volcanic nature of this region. However, the travelers still had not passed the zone of trees leading to the snowy peak. These conifers, like all those growing at this height, were pines and spruce, which little by little became more scarce.

During the last part of the climb, Uncle drew Harry Clifton's attention to the large footprints encrusted in the ground indicating the presence of large animals. What animals these were, they could not say. It would be prudent to keep on guard and the children were cautioned not to wander off.

Mr. Clifton and Uncle were chatting and these footprints gave rise to a rather plausible idea in the engineer's mind.

“These animals,” he said to Uncle, “are evidently powerful and numerous. I am led to believe that fate has thrown us on a continent rather than on an island, at least an island of considerable size. But I do not recall any islands in this part of the Pacific where the Vancouver has abandoned us. Yes, we are on a continent probably somewhere on a part of the American shoreline between the fortieth and fiftieth north latitudes.”

“Let's climb further,” Uncle replied, “and we will perhaps know what we have to deal with when we pass the tree zone.”

“But, my worthy friend,” said Clifton, “so far we have only seen the shoreline of this land, until we get to the top.”

“That will be a nasty business,” Uncle replied. “If the summit is not accessible, we may have to go around it at its base to find out if we are islanders or, how shall I say it, continenters.”

“Well, let's press on!”

“I suggest,” Uncle said, “that we be content for today to reach the end of the tree zone. There we can camp for the night which will be a fine one. I will be in charge of organizing a camp and tomorrow, at dawn, we will try to climb to the top.”

It was then three o'clock. They continued their climb. If the ferocious animals, judging from their footprints, were no longer here, no one thought of complaining. There was no lack of food and Fido put to flight several food worthy species difficult to recognize. However, Marc and Robert's arrows soon felled a gallinule couple of the pheasant family. The birds had a fleshy wattle hanging from their throats and two slender cylindrical horns set behind their eyes. These fine birds were the size of a rooster. The female was brown but the male sparkled with a red plumage dotted with white teardrop shapes. Mr. Clifton gave the gallinule birds their real name calling them tragopans. Mrs. Clifton was sorry they had not been caught alive. These pheasants would have adorned the poultry yard but they had to be content with making a roast of them at the next stop.

Another animal, a large one, was soon spotted among the basalt rocks. They could not capture it but Clifton was glad to know they were here. It was one of the large sheep that live in the mountains of Corsica, Crete and Sardinia. These were a distinct species going under the name of moufflon. Clifton easily recognized their strong horns curving rearward and flat at the tip with woolen fleece hidden under long silky buff colored hair. This fine animal stood still near the trunk of a fallen tree. Clifton and Uncle came closer. The moufflon looked at them with astonishment as if he was seeing human bipeds for the first time and then, his fears becoming aroused, he disappeared across the clearing and the rocks beyond the reach of Uncle's arrows.

“Au revoir!” Uncle shouted at him, in a comic tone of frustration. “The wretched animal! It is not the legs but the fleece I am sorry about! He took a jacket away from us but we will get it back!”

“At least we will try,” Clifton replied, “and if we succeed in domesticating a few couples of these animals, as Uncle says, we will no longer lack for legs and jackets.”

At six in the evening, the small troop reach the tree limit. They decided to stop, prepare the evening meal and camp for the night. Their only thought was to find a convenient place for sleeping. Marc and Robert went off in one direction and Clifton and Uncle to the other. Mrs. Clifton, Jack and Belle were sheltered under a large pine tree.

Marc and Robert were gone for barely a few minutes when their mother saw them returning in a fright. Mrs. Clifton went to them.

“What is it, my children?” she asked them.

“Smoke,” Robert said. “We saw smoke rising from the rocks.”

“Are there people here?” Mrs. Clifton asked.

She seized her children.

“But what kind of people, savages, cannibals?”

The children looked at their mother without answering.

At this moment, Uncle and the engineer reappeared. Marc told them what happened. Everyone was quiet for a few moments.

“Let's act prudently,” Uncle Robinson finally said. “It is evident that human creatures are there near us. We do not know who we have to deal with. I truly fear them more than I want them. Stay near Mrs. Clifton, Mister engineer. Mister Marc, Fido and I will do a reconaissance.”

Uncle, the young lad and the faithful dog left without delay. Marc's heart was pounding. Uncle, his lips tight and eyes wide open, advanced carefully. After a few minutes moving in a northeast direction, Marc suddenly stopped and showed his companion a smoke rising into the air at the border of the last trees. No wisp of wind blew and the smoke rose to a great height.

Uncle stopped. Fido wanted to spring forward but Marc restrained him. The sailor made a sign to the lad to wait for him and he glided like a serpent among the rocks and disappeared.

Marc stood still with emotion, waiting for his return. Suddenly he heard a shout echoing from the rocks. Marc jumped forward ready to help his companion but the shouting was followed by a hearty laughter and Uncle soon reappeared.

“This fire,” he shouted, swinging his large arms, “or rather this smoke...”

“Well, it is made by nature! It is a sulfer source that will allow us to effectively treat our laryngites.”

Uncle and Marc returned to where Clifton was waiting for them and Uncle told him about the situation all the while laughing.

Father, mother and children wanted to go there to see the gushing source a little beyond the tree line. The soil was mostly volcanic. From a distance, Clifton recognized the sulfuric acid odor of the gushing gases combining with the atmospheric oxygen. These sulfuric waters flowed abundantly among the rocks. The engineer dipped his hand into it and found it oily to the touch and that its temperature was about thirty seven degrees (Celsius). It tasted somewhat sweet. This source, like those in Luchon or Cauterets, have been effectively used for the treatment of respiratory ailments and, thanks to the heat, even for lymphatic constitutions.

Marc then asked his father how he was able to estimate the thirty seven degree temperature of this source without a thermometer. Mr. Clifton told him that when he immersed his hand into the water he felt no sensation of cold or hot; consequently he concluded that they were at the same temperature as the human body which is about thirty seven degrees.

With these observations made, they decided to camp here between two large basaltic rocks under the protection of the last trees. The children gathered some dry wood, enough to keep the fire going all night. A few howlings in the distant made precautions necessary. Ferocious animals would not cross a barrier of flames.

These preparations were quickly completed. Mother, helped by Jack and Belle, were occupied with making supper. The two pheasants were roasted. With the meal over, the children lay down on their beds of dry leaves. They were exhausted and were not long in falling asleep. During this time, Clifton and Uncle Robinson made a reconaissance around the camp. They even went as far as a small bamboo woods growing on the initial slopes of the mountain. Here they distinctly heard the howlings of ferocious beasts.

In order to better defend the approaches to his camp, Clifton then thought of using an idea recommended by Marco Polo, one used by the Tartars during the long nights to protect against dangerous animals. Uncle and he cut a quantity of bamboos which they carried to the camp. From time to time they threw a few pieces of this vegetation onto the incandescent cinders. A fireworks ensued that cannot be imagined by those who have never heard it. Marc and Robert were awakened by the noise. They were amused by the detonations, violent enough to frighten the nocturnal prowlers. In fact, the night passed without troubling the sleep of the Clifton family in any way.

The next day, the first of June, everyone was on foot at an early hour, ready to make the climb. They left at six o'clock after a quick meal. The tree zone was soon crossed and the small troop ventured onto the initial slopes leading to the peak. There was no doubt that the peak was a volcanic one. In fact, the slopes were covered with cinders and slag with lava flows appearing among them. Clifton saw materials indicating previous volcanic eruptions. They were pozzuolanas in small irregular shapes and highly torrefied white cinders made by an infinity of small feldspar crystals.

They climbed rapidly over the steep slopes made of capriciously ridged lava. Small solfatara sometimes blocked their path and they had to go around them. It was a pleasure for Clifton to talk about the abundance of sulfur all around in the form of encrusted crystals.

“Good!” Clifton shouted. “Children, here is a substance that comes to us just in time.”

“To make candles?” Robert asked.

“No,” the father replied, “to make powder, because however carefully we look, we will not be able to find saltpeter.”

“Is it true, father?” Marc asked. “You can make powder?“

“I cannot promise you powder of the first quality but a substance that will give us good service.”

“Then we will no longer lack for anything,” Mrs. Clifton said.

“For example, my dear Elisa?” the engineer asked.

“Firing arms, my friend”

“Well, don't we have Robert's pistol?”

“Oh yes,” shouted the noisy lad, shouting as loud as a gun.

“Calm down, Robert,” Mr. Clifton said, “and let's continue our climb. We'll gather in some sulfer on our way down.”

They continued on their way. Already, their view embraced a vast semi-circular horizon beyond the eastern part of the shore. The shoreline seemed to turn sharply to the north and to the south; in the north, beyond the large marsh not far from where Clifton had been found; in the south, beyond the promontory to the rear of the oyster bed. From this elevated point the travelers distinctly saw the vast bay where the river emptied, the winding course of its flow across the clearings, the foliage of the forest and the lake which appeared like a vast floor. To the north, the shore seemed to follow a west to east line. It was indented forming a wide bay ending in the east by a rounded cape. They could not see beyond because the mountain hid their view. In the south, on the contrary, the land was as straight as if it had been traced with a drawing pen. All of this shore, from the cape to the promontory, measured about six leagues. However, behind the peak they did not know whether there was a continent of some sort or an ocean beating against a still invisible shore. As to the land situated at the base of the peak and irrigated by the two branches of the river, it seemed to be very fertile. The southern region was ridged with savage looking dunes and the northern region looked like an immense marsh.

The family stopped to better observe this land and the ocean.

“Well, what do you think, Mr. engineer,” Uncle said. “What is your opinion? Are we on an island or are we on a continent?”

“I do not know what to say, my worthy companion,” Clifton replied. “I cannot see through the mountain that hides the east. We are not more than three hundred feet above sea level. Let us climb further to the plateau on which the peak rests. Perhaps we will then be able to go around it and see the eastern shore.”

“I'm afraid,” Uncle said, “that Mrs. Clifton and her two youngsters will find this second part of the climb a bit tiring.”

“But here,” the mother replied, “there is nothing to fear from an attack and I can wait with Jack and Belle for your return.”

“In fact, my dear friend,” Clifton replied, “I believe that we need fear neither people nor animals here.”

“Besides, don't I have Jack to protect me?” Mrs. Clifton said with a smile.

“And he will defend you like a hero,” Uncle said. “He is a little lion, afraid of nothing, but if you wish, madame, I can stay here with you.”

“No, my friend, no. Go with my husband and children. I would rather you did. Jack, Belle and I will wait here and rest.”

That settled, Mr. Clifton, Uncle, Marc and Robert continued their climb and soon, with the distortion of distances peculiar to mountainous regions, mother and children appeared as three barely distinguishable points.

The path was no longer easy. The slopes were steep and their feet slipped on the streaks of lava but they climbed quickly toward the upper plateau. As to reaching the summit of the volcano, they would have to give that up if the slopes were steeper here than those on the western side.

Finally, after a painful hour's climb with very dangerous slips, Uncle, father and the two boys reached what may be called the base of the peak. It was an irregular narrow plateau but sufficiently practical. Situated at nine hundred or thousand meters above sea level, it rose gradually to the north by an oblique curve. The peak dominated it by seven or eight hundred meters. This grand slab of snow sparkled under the sun's rays.

In spite of the climbers' fatigue, there was no question of resting for a moment. They hurried to turn the mountain. Their view of the north gradually enlarged.

After an hour's march, the northern part of the peak had been turned. There was no land beyond. But father, Uncle and the boys moved forward, speaking little and all a prey to the same emotion. Marc and Robert, tireless, were in front. Finally, at about eleven o'clock, the sun's position indicated to Clifton that they had reached the opposite side.

The travellers saw nothing but an immense sea to the limits of the horizon. They watched in silence this ocean that imprisoned them. There could be no communication with other people, no help from them. They were isolated on a land lost in the Pacific Ocean.

According to the engineer's estimate, the island's circumference measured about twenty to twenty five leagues, an island larger than Elba, with a perimeter twice that of Saint Helena. This island was relatively small and Clifton did not know how to explain the presence of these large animals, whose traces they had seen, on a land so restricted. Perhaps its volcanic nature could explain some of these things. Was it possible that the island had once been part of a larger one now sunk under the waves or that it had drifted away from a continent? Clifton promised himself that he would verify these hypotheses when he would make a tour of the island. In the presence of this ocean without limits, the boys understood the gravity of their situation and they remained silent.

They did not want to question their father. He gave the signal to depart. The descent was rapid. In less than a half hour they rejoined Mrs. Clifton waiting for them, absorbed in thought.

When she saw her husband and her children she rose and went to them.

“Well,” she said.

“An island,” the engineer replied.

“The will of God be done,” the mother murmurred.

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