XXXI. In which Fix, the Detective, Considerably Furthers the Interests of Phileas Fogg

by Jules Verne

　　Phileas Fogg found himself twenty hours behind time.Passepartout, the involuntary cause of this delay, was desperate.He had ruined his master!At this moment the detective approached Mr. Fogg, and,looking him intently in the face, said:"Seriously, sir, are you in great haste?""Quite seriously.""I have a purpose in asking," resumed Fix. "Is it absolutelynecessary that you should be in New York on the 11th, before nine o'clockin the evening, the time that the steamer leaves for Liverpool?""It is absolutely necessary.""And, if your journey had not been interrupted by these Indians,you would have reached New York on the morning of the 11th?""Yes; with eleven hours to spare before the steamer left.""Good! you are therefore twenty hours behind. Twelve from twentyleaves eight. You must regain eight hours. Do you wish to try to do so?""On foot?" asked Mr. Fogg."No; on a sledge," replied Fix. "On a sledge with sails.A man has proposed such a method to me."It was the man who had spoken to Fix during the night, andwhose offer he had refused.Phileas Fogg did not reply at once; but Fix, having pointed out the man,who was walking up and down in front of the station, Mr. Fogg went up to him.An instant after, Mr. Fogg and the American, whose name was Mudge,entered a hut built just below the fort.There Mr. Fogg examined a curious vehicle, a kind of frame on two long beams,a little raised in front like the runners of a sledge, and upon which therewas room for five or six persons. A high mast was fixed on the frame, heldfirmly by metallic lashings, to which was attached a large brigantine sail.This mast held an iron stay upon which to hoist a jib-sail. Behind, a sortof rudder served to guide the vehicle. It was, in short, a sledge riggedlike a sloop. During the winter, when the trains are blocked up by the snow,these sledges make extremely rapid journeys across the frozen plains from onestation to another. Provided with more sails than a cutter, and with the windbehind them, they slip over the surface of the prairies with a speed equalif not superior to that of the express trains.Mr. Fogg readily made a bargain with the owner of this land-craft.The wind was favourable, being fresh, and blowing from the west.The snow had hardened, and Mudge was very confident of being ableto transport Mr. Fogg in a few hours to Omaha. Thence the trainseastward run frequently to Chicago and New York. It was not impossiblethat the lost time might yet be recovered; and such an opportunitywas not to be rejected.Not wishing to expose Aouda to the discomforts of travellingin the open air, Mr. Fogg proposed to leave her with Passepartoutat Fort Kearney, the servant taking upon himself to escort herto Europe by a better route and under more favourable conditions.But Aouda refused to separate from Mr. Fogg, and Passepartoutwas delighted with her decision; for nothing could induce himto leave his master while Fix was with him.It would be difficult to guess the detective's thoughts. Was thisconviction shaken by Phileas Fogg's return, or did he still regard himas an exceedingly shrewd rascal, who, his journey round the world completed,would think himself absolutely safe in England? Perhaps Fix's opinionof Phileas Fogg was somewhat modified; but he was nevertheless resolvedto do his duty, and to hasten the return of the whole party to Englandas much as possible.At eight o'clock the sledge was ready to start. The passengerstook their places on it, and wrapped themselves up closelyin their travelling-cloaks. The two great sails were hoisted,and under the pressure of the wind the sledge slid over the hardenedsnow with a velocity of forty miles an hour.The distance between Fort Kearney and Omaha, as the birds fly,is at most two hundred miles. If the wind held good, the distancemight be traversed in five hours; if no accident happened the sledgemight reach Omaha by one o'clock.What a journey! The travellers, huddled close together, could not speakfor the cold, intensified by the rapidity at which they were going.The sledge sped on as lightly as a boat over the waves. When the breezecame skimming the earth the sledge seemed to be lifted off the groundby its sails. Mudge, who was at the rudder, kept in a straight line,and by a turn of his hand checked the lurches which the vehiclehad a tendency to make. All the sails were up, and the jibwas so arranged as not to screen the brigantine. A top-mast was hoisted,and another jib, held out to the wind, added its force to the other sails.Although the speed could not be exactly estimated, the sledge could notbe going at less than forty miles an hour."If nothing breaks," said Mudge, "we shall get there!"Mr. Fogg had made it for Mudge's interest to reach Omahawithin the time agreed on, by the offer of a handsome reward.The prairie, across which the sledge was moving in a straightline, was as flat as a sea. It seemed like a vast frozen lake.The railroad which ran through this section ascended from thesouth-west to the north-west by Great Island, Columbus,an important Nebraska town, Schuyler, and Fremont, to Omaha.It followed throughout the right bank of the Platte River.The sledge, shortening this route, took a chord of the arcdescribed by the railway. Mudge was not afraid of being stoppedby the Platte River, because it was frozen. The road, then, was quiteclear of obstacles, and Phileas Fogg had but two things to fear--an accident to the sledge, and a change or calm in the wind.But the breeze, far from lessening its force, blew as if tobend the mast, which, however, the metallic lashings held firmly.These lashings, like the chords of a stringed instrument,resounded as if vibrated by a violin bow. The sledge slid alongin the midst of a plaintively intense melody."Those chords give the fifth and the octave," said Mr. Fogg.These were the only words he uttered during the journey.Aouda, cosily packed in furs and cloaks, was shelteredas much as possible from the attacks of the freezing wind.As for Passepartout, his face was as red as the sun's discwhen it sets in the mist, and he laboriously inhaled the biting air.With his natural buoyancy of spirits, he began to hope again.They would reach New York on the evening, if not on the morning,of the 11th, and there was still some chances that it would be beforethe steamer sailed for Liverpool.Passepartout even felt a strong desire to grasp his ally, Fix, by the hand.He remembered that it was the detective who procured the sledge,the only means of reaching Omaha in time; but, checked by some presentiment,he kept his usual reserve. One thing, however, Passepartout wouldnever forget, and that was the sacrifice which Mr. Fogg had made,without hesitation, to rescue him from the Sioux. Mr. Fogg had riskedhis fortune and his life. No! His servant would never forget that!While each of the party was absorbed in reflections so different,the sledge flew past over the vast carpet of snow.The creeks it passed over were not perceived. Fields and streamsdisappeared under the uniform whiteness. The plain was absolutely deserted.Between the Union Pacific road and the branch which unites Kearneywith Saint Joseph it formed a great uninhabited island.Neither village, station, nor fort appeared. From time to timethey sped by some phantom-like tree, whose white skeleton twistedand rattled in the wind. Sometimes flocks of wild birds rose,or bands of gaunt, famished, ferocious prairie-wolves ran howlingafter the sledge. Passepartout, revolver in hand, held himself readyto fire on those which came too near. Had an accident then happenedto the sledge, the travellers, attacked by these beasts, would have beenin the most terrible danger; but it held on its even course, soon gainedon the wolves, and ere long left the howling band at a safe distance behind.About noon Mudge perceived by certain landmarks that he wascrossing the Platte River. He said nothing, but he felt certainthat he was now within twenty miles of Omaha. In less than anhour he left the rudder and furled his sails, whilst the sledge,carried forward by the great impetus the wind had given it,went on half a mile further with its sails unspread.It stopped at last, and Mudge, pointing to a mass of roofswhite with snow, said: "We have got there!"Arrived! Arrived at the station which is in daily communication,by numerous trains, with the Atlantic seaboard!Passepartout and Fix jumped off, stretched their stiffened limbs,and aided Mr. Fogg and the young woman to descend from the sledge.Phileas Fogg generously rewarded Mudge, whose hand Passepartoutwarmly grasped, and the party directed their steps to the Omaharailway station.The Pacific Railroad proper finds its terminus at thisimportant Nebraska town. Omaha is connected withChicago by the Chicago and Rock Island Railroad,which runs directly east, and passes fifty stations.A train was ready to start when Mr. Fogg and his party reachedthe station, and they only had time to get into the cars.They had seen nothing of Omaha; but Passepartout confessedto himself that this was not to be regretted, as they were nottravelling to see the sights.The train passed rapidly across the State of Iowa, by Council Bluffs,Des Moines, and Iowa City. During the night it crossed the Mississippiat Davenport, and by Rock Island entered Illinois. The next day,which was the 10th, at four o'clock in the evening, it reached Chicago,already risen from its ruins, and more proudly seated than everon the borders of its beautiful Lake Michigan.Nine hundred miles separated Chicago from New York; but trainsare not wanting at Chicago. Mr. Fogg passed at once from oneto the other, and the locomotive of the Pittsburgh, Fort Wayne,and Chicago Railway left at full speed, as if it fully comprehendedthat that gentleman had no time to lose. It traversed Indiana,Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey like a flash, rushing throughtowns with antique names, some of which had streets and car-tracks,but as yet no houses. At last the Hudson came into view; and,at a quarter-past eleven in the evening of the 11th,the train stopped in the station on the right bank of the river,before the very pier of the Cunard line.The China, for Liverpool, had started three-quarters of an hour before!