Part 1 - Dropped from the Clouds: Chapter 7

by Jules Verne

　　Gideon Spilett was standing motionless on the shore, his arms crossed,gazing over the sea, the horizon of which was lost towards the east in athick black cloud which was spreading rapidly towards the zenith. The windwas already strong, and increased with the decline of day. The whole skywas of a threatening aspect, and the first symptoms of a violent storm wereclearly visible.

　　Herbert entered the Chimneys, and Pencroft went towards the reporter. Thelatter, deeply absorbed, did not see him approach.

　　"We are going to have a dirty night, Mr. Spilett!" said the sailor:"Petrels delight in wind and rain."

　　The reporter, turning at the moment, saw Pencroft, and his first wordswere,--

　　"At what distance from the coast would you say the car was, when thewaves carried off our companion?"

　　The sailor had not expected this question. He reflected an instant andreplied,--

　　"Two cables lengths at the most."

　　"But what is a cable's length?" asked Gideon Spilett.

　　"About a hundred and twenty fathoms, or six hundred feet."

　　"Then," said the reporter, "Cyrus Harding must have disappeared twelvehundred feet at the most from the shore?"

　　"About that," replied Pencroft.

　　"And his dog also?"

　　"Also."

　　"What astonishes me," rejoined the reporter, "while admitting that ourcompanion has perished, is that Top has also met his death, and thatneither the body of the dog nor of his master has been cast on the shore!"

　　"It is not astonishing, with such a heavy sea," replied the sailor."Besides, it is possible that currents have carried them farther down thecoast."

　　"Then, it is your opinion that our friend has perished in the waves?"again asked the reporter.

　　"That is my opinion."

　　"My own opinion," said Gideon Spilett, "with due deference to yourexperience, Pencroft, is that in the double fact of the absolutedisappearance of Cyrus and Top, living or dead, there is somethingunaccountable and unlikely."

　　"I wish I could think like you, Mr. Spilett," replied Pencroft;"unhappily, my mind is made up on this point." Having said this, the sailorreturned to the Chimneys. A good fire crackled on the hearth. Herbert hadjust thrown on an armful of dry wood, and the flame cast a bright lightinto the darkest parts of the passage.

　　Pencroft immediately began to prepare the dinner. It appeared best tointroduce something solid into the bill of fare, for all needed to get uptheir strength. The strings of couroucous were kept for the next day, butthey plucked a couple of grouse, which were soon spitted on a stick, androasting before a blazing fire.

　　At seven in the evening Neb had not returned. The prolonged absence ofthe Negro made Pencroft very uneasy. It was to be feared that he had metwith an accident on this unknown land, or that the unhappy fellow had beendriven to some act of despair. But Herbert drew very different conclusionsfrom this absence. According to him, Neb's delay was caused by some newcircumstances which had induced him to prolong his search. Also, everythingnew must be to the advantage of Cyrus Harding. Why had Neb not returnedunless hope still detained him? Perhaps he had found some mark, a footstep,a trace which had put him in the right path. Perhaps he was at this momenton a certain track. Perhaps even he was near his master.

　　Thus the lad reasoned. Thus he spoke. His companions let him talk. Thereporter alone approved with a gesture. But what Pencroft thought mostprobable was, that Neb had pushed his researches on the shore farther thanthe day before, and that he had not as yet had time to return.

　　Herbert, however, agitated by vague presentiments, several timesmanifested an intention to go to meet Neb. But Pencroft assured him thatthat would be a useless course, that in the darkness and deplorable weatherhe could not find any traces of Neb, and that it would be much better towait. If Neb had not made his appearance by the next day, Pencroft wouldnot hesitate to join him in his search.

　　Gideon Spilett approved of the sailor's opinion that it was best not todivide, and Herbert was obliged to give up his project; but two large tearsfell from his eyes.

　　The reporter could not refrain from embracing the generous boy.

　　Bad weather now set in. A furious gale from the southeast passed over thecoast. The sea roared as it beat over the reef. Heavy rain was dashed bythe storm into particles like dust. Ragged masses of vapor drove along thebeach, on which the tormented shingles sounded as if poured out in cart-loads, while the sand raised by the wind added as it were mineral dust tothat which was liquid, and rendered the united attack insupportable.Between the river's mouth and the end of the cliff, eddies of wind whirledand gusts from this maelstrom lashed the water which ran through thenarrow valley. The smoke from the fireplace was also driven back throughthe opening, filling the passages and rendering them uninhabitable.

　　Therefore, as the grouse were cooked, Pencroft let the fire die away, andonly preserved a few embers buried under the ashes.

　　At eight o'clock Neb had not appeared, but there was no doubt that thefrightful weather alone hindered his return, and that he must have takenrefuge in some cave, to await the end of the storm or at least the returnof day. As to going to meet him, or attempting to find him, it wasimpossible.

　　The game constituted the only dish at supper; the meat was excellent, andPencroft and Herbert, whose long excursion had rendered them very hungry,devoured it with infinite satisfaction.

　　Their meal concluded, each retired to the corner in which he had restedthe preceding night, and Herbert was not long in going to sleep near thesailor, who had stretched himself beside the fireplace.

　　Outside, as the night advanced, the tempest also increased in strength,until it was equal to that which had carried the prisoners from Richmond tothis land in the Pacific. The tempests which are frequent during theseasons of the equinox, and which are so prolific in catastrophes, areabove all terrible over this immense ocean, which opposes no obstacle totheir fury. No description can give an idea of the terrific violence ofthe gale as it beat upon the unprotected coast.

　　Happily the pile of rocks which formed the Chimneys was solid. It wascomposed of enormous blocks of granite, a few of which, insecurelybalanced, seemed to tremble on their foundations, and Pencroft could feelrapid quiverings under his head as it rested on the rock. But he repeatedto himself, and rightly, that there was nothing to fear, and that theirretreat would not give way. However he heard the noise of stones torn fromthe summit of the plateau by the wind, falling down on to the beach. A feweven rolled on to the upper part of the Chimneys, or flew off in fragmentswhen they were projected perpendicularly. Twice the sailor rose andintrenched himself at the opening of the passage, so as to take a look insafety at the outside. But there was nothing to be feared from theseshowers, which were not considerable, and he returned to his couch beforethe fireplace, where the embers glowed beneath the ashes.

　　Notwithstanding the fury of the hurricane, the uproar of the tempest, thethunder, and the tumult, Herbert slept profoundly. Sleep at last tookpossession of Pencroft, whom a seafaring life had habituated to anything.Gideon Spilett alone was kept awake by anxiety. He reproached himself withnot having accompanied Neb. It was evident that he had not abandoned allhope. The presentiments which had troubled Herbert did not cease to agitatehim also. His thoughts were concentrated on Neb. Why had Neb not returned?He tossed about on his sandy couch, scarcely giving a thought to thestruggle of the elements. Now and then, his eyes, heavy with fatigue,closed for an instant, but some sudden thought reopened them almostimmediately.

　　Meanwhile the night advanced, and it was perhaps two hours from morning,when Pencroft, then sound asleep, was vigorously shaken.

　　"What's the matter?" he cried, rousing himself, and collecting his ideaswith the promptitude usual to seamen.

　　The reporter was leaning over him, and saying,--

　　"Listen, Pencroft, listen!"

　　The sailor strained his ears, but could hear no noise beyond those causedby the storm.

　　"It is the wind," said he.

　　"No," replied Gideon Spilett, listening again, "I thought I heard--"

　　"What?"

　　"The barking of a dog!"

　　"A dog!" cried Pencroft, springing up.

　　"Yes--barking--"

　　"It's not possible!" replied the sailor. "And besides, how, in theroaring of the storm--"

　　"Stop--listen--" said the reporter.

　　Pencroft listened more attentively, and really thought he heard, during alull, distant barking.

　　"Well!" said the reporter, pressing the sailor's hand.

　　"Yes--yes!" replied Pencroft.

　　"It is Top! It is Top!" cried Herbert, who had just awoke; and all threerushed towards the opening of the Chimneys. They had great difficulty ingetting out. The wind drove them back. But at last they succeeded, andcould only remain standing by leaning against the rocks. They looked about,but could not speak. The darkness was intense. The sea, the sky, the landwere all mingled in one black mass. Not a speck of light was visible.

　　The reporter and his companions remained thus for a few minutes,overwhelmed by the wind, drenched by the rain, blinded by the sand.

　　Then, in a pause of the tumult, they again heard the barking, which theyfound must be at some distance.

　　It could only be Top! But was he alone or accompanied? He was mostprobably alone, for, if Neb had been with him, he would have made his waymore directly towards the Chimneys. The sailor squeezed the reporter'shand, for he could not make himself heard, in a way which signified "Wait!"then he reentered the passage.

　　An instant after he issued with a lighted fagot, which he threw into thedarkness, whistling shrilly.

　　It appeared as if this signal had been waited for; the barkingimmediately came nearer, and soon a dog bounded into the passage. Pencroft,Herbert, and Spilett entered after him.

　　An armful of dry wood was thrown on the embers. The passage was lightedup with a bright flame.

　　"It is Top!" cried Herbert.

　　It was indeed Top, a magnificent Anglo-Norman, who derived from these tworaces crossed the swiftness of foot and the acuteness of smell which arethe preeminent qualities of coursing dogs. It was the dog of the engineer,Cyrus Harding. But he was alone! Neither Neb nor his master accompaniedhim!

　　How was it that his instinct had guided him straight to the Chimneys,which he did not know? It appeared inexplicable, above all, in the midst ofthis black night and in such a tempest! But what was still moreinexplicable was, that Top was neither tired, nor exhausted, nor evensoiled with mud or sand!--Herbert had drawn him towards him, and waspatting his head, the dog rubbing his neck against the lad's hands.

　　"If the dog is found, the master will be found also!" said the reporter.

　　"God grant it!" responded Herbert. "Let us set off! Top will guide us!"

　　Pencroft did not make any objection. He felt that Top's arrivalcontradicted his conjectures. "Come along then!" said he.

　　Pencroft carefully covered the embers on the hearth. He placed a fewpieces of wood among them, so as to keep in the fire until their return.Then, preceded by the dog, who seemed to invite them by short barks to comewith him, and followed by the reporter and the boy, he dashed out, afterhaving put up in his handkerchief the remains of the supper.

　　The storm was then in all its violence, and perhaps at its height. Not asingle ray of light from the moon pierced through the clouds. To follow astraight course was difficult. It was best to rely on Top's instinct. Theydid so. The reporter and Herbert walked behind the dog, and the sailorbrought up the rear. It was impossible to exchange a word. The rain was notvery heavy, but the wind was terrific.

　　However, one circumstance favored the seaman and his two companions. Thewind being southeast, consequently blew on their backs. The clouds of sand,which otherwise would have been insupportable, from being received behind,did not in consequence impede their progress. In short, they sometimes wentfaster than they liked, and had some difficulty in keeping their feet; buthope gave them strength, for it was not at random that they made their wayalong the shore. They had no doubt that Neb had found his master, and thathe had sent them the faithful dog. But was the engineer living, or had Nebonly sent for his companions that they might render the last duties to thecorpse of the unfortunate Harding?

　　After having passed the precipice, Herbert, the reporter, and Pencroftprudently stepped aside to stop and take breath. The turn of the rockssheltered them from the wind, and they could breathe after this walk orrather run of a quarter of an hour.

　　They could now hear and reply to each other, and the lad havingpronounced the name of Cyrus Harding, Top gave a few short barks, as muchas to say that his master was saved.

　　"Saved, isn't he?" repeated Herbert; "saved, Top?"

　　And the dog barked in reply.

　　They once more set out. The tide began to rise, and urged by the wind itthreatened to be unusually high, as it was a spring tide. Great billowsthundered against the reef with such violence that they probably passedentirely over the islet, then quite invisible. The mole no longer protectedthe coast, which was directly exposed to the attacks of the open sea.

　　As soon as the sailor and his companions left the precipice, the windstruck them again with renewed fury. Though bent under the gale they walkedvery quickly, following Top, who did not hesitate as to what direction totake.

　　They ascended towards the north, having on their left an interminableextent of billows, which broke with a deafening noise, and on their right adark country, the aspect of which it was impossible to guess. But they feltthat it was comparatively flat, for the wind passed completely over them,without being driven back as it was when it came in contact with the cliff.

　　At four o'clock in the morning, they reckoned that they had cleared aboutfive miles. The clouds were slightly raised, and the wind, though lessdamp, was very sharp and cold. Insufficiently protected by their clothing,Pencroft, Herbert and Spilett suffered cruelly, but not a complaint escapedtheir lips. They were determined to follow Top, wherever the intelligentanimal wished to lead them.

　　Towards five o'clock day began to break. At the zenith, where the fog wasless thick, gray shades bordered the clouds; under an opaque belt, aluminous line clearly traced the horizon. The crests of the billows weretipped with a wild light, and the foam regained its whiteness. At the sametime on the left the hilly parts of the coast could be seen, though veryindistinctly.

　　At six o'clock day had broken. The clouds rapidly lifted. The seaman andhis companions were then about six miles from the Chimneys. They werefollowing a very flat shore bounded by a reef of rocks, whose headsscarcely emerged from the sea, for they were in deep water. On the left,the country appeared to be one vast extent of sandy downs, bristling withthistles. There was no cliff, and the shore offered no resistance to theocean but a chain of irregular hillocks. Here and there grew two or threetrees, inclined towards the west, their branches projecting in thatdirection. Quite behind, in the southwest, extended the border of theforest.

　　At this moment, Top became very excited. He ran forward, then returned,and seemed to entreat them to hasten their steps. The dog then left thebeach, and guided by his wonderful instinct, without showing the leasthesitation, went straight in among the downs. They followed him. Thecountry appeared an absolute desert. Not a living creature was to be seen.

　　The downs, the extent of which was large, were composed of hillocks andeven of hills, very irregularly distributed. They resembled a Switzerlandmodeled in sand, and only an amazing instinct could have possiblyrecognized the way.

　　Five minutes after having left the beach, the reporter and his twocompanions arrived at a sort of excavation, hollowed out at the back of ahigh mound. There Top stopped, and gave a loud, clear bark. Spilett,Herbert, and Pencroft dashed into the cave.

　　Neb was there, kneeling beside a body extended on a bed of grass.

　　The body was that of the engineer, Cyrus Harding.