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  CHAPTER X

  Boat-building -- Second Crop of Corn -- Hunting Koalas -- A new Plant, more Pleasant than Useful -- Whale in Sight -- A Harpoon from the Vineyard -- Cutting up the Whale -- Use for the Bones -- End of the Month of May -- Pencroft has nothing left to wish for.

  When Pencroft had once got a plan into his head, he had no peace tillit was executed. Now he wished to visit Tabor Island, and as a boat ofa certain size was necessary for this voyage, he determined to buildone.

  What wood should be employed? Elm or fir, both of which abounded inthe island? They decided for the fir, as being easy to work, but whichstands water as well as the elm.

  These details settled, it was agreed that since the fine season wouldnot return before six months, Cyrus Harding and Pencroft should workalone at the boat. Gideon Spilett and Herbert were to continue tohunt, and neither Neb nor Master Jup his assistant were to leave thedomestic duties which had devolved upon them.

  Directly the trees were chosen, they were felled, stripped of theirbranches, and sawn into planks as well as sawyers would have been ableto do it. A week after, in the recess between the Chimneys and thecliff, a dockyard was prepared, and a keel five-and-thirty feet long,furnished with a stern-post at the stern and a stem at the bows, layalong the sand.

  Cyrus Harding was not working in the dark at this new trade. He knewas much about ship-building as about nearly everything else, and hehad at first drawn the model of his ship on paper. Besides, he wasably seconded by Pencroft, who, having worked for several years in adockyard at Brooklyn, knew the practical part of the trade. It was notuntil after careful calculation and deep thought that the timbers werelaid on the keel.

  Pencroft, as may be believed, was all eagerness to carry out his newenterprise, and would not leave his work for an instant.

  A single thing had the honour of drawing him, but for one day only,from his dockyard. This was the second wheat-harvest, which wasgathered in on the 15th of April. It was as much a success as thefirst, and yielded the number of grains which had been predicted.

  "Five bushels, captain," said Pencroft, after having scrupulouslymeasured his treasure.

  "Five bushels," replied the engineer; "and a hundred and thirtythousand grains a bushel will make six hundred and fifty thousandgrains."

  "Well, we will sow them all this time," said the sailor, "except alittle in reserve."

  "Yes, Pencroft, and if the next crop gives a proportionate yield, weshall have four thousand bushels."

  "And shall we eat bread?"

  "We shall eat bread."

  "But we must have a mill."

  "We will make one."

  The third cornfield was very much larger than the two first, and thesoil, prepared with extreme care, received the precious seed. Thatdone, Pencroft returned to his work.

  During this time Spilett and Herbert hunted in the neighbourhood, andthey ventured deep into the still unknown parts of the Far West, theirguns loaded with ball, ready for any dangerous emergency. It was avast thicket of magnificent trees, crowded together as if pressed forroom. The exploration of these dense masses of wood was difficult inthe extreme, and the reporter never ventured there without thepocket-compass, for the sun scarcely pierced through the thickfoliage, and it would have been very difficult for them to retracetheir way. It naturally happened that game was more rare in thosesituations where there was hardly sufficient room to move; two orthree large herbivorous animals were however killed during the lastfortnight of April. These were koalas, specimens of which the settlershad already seen to the north of the lake, and which stupidly allowedthemselves to be killed among the thick branches of the trees in whichthey took refuge. Their skins were brought back to Granite House, andthere, by the help of sulphuric acid, they were subjected to a sort oftanning process which rendered them capable of being used.

  THE DOCKYARD]

  On the 30th of April, the two sportsmen were in the depth of the FarWest, when the reporter, preceding Herbert a few paces, arrived in asort of clearing, into which the trees more sparsely scattered hadpermitted a few rays to penetrate. Gideon Spilett was at firstsurprised at the odour which exhaled from certain plants with straightstalks, round and branchy, bearing grape-like clusters of flowers andvery small berries. The reporter broke off one or two of these stalksand returned to the lad, to whom he said,--

  "What can this be, Herbert?"

  "Well, Mr. Spilett," said Herbert, "this is a treasure which willsecure you Pencroft's gratitude for ever."

  "Is it tobacco?"

  "Yes, and though it may not be of the first quality, it is none theless tobacco!"

  "Oh, good old Pencroft! Won't he be pleased? But we must not let himsmoke it all, he must give us our share."

  "Ah! an idea occurs to me, Mr. Spilett," replied Herbert. "Don't letus say anything to Pencroft yet; we will prepare these leaves, and onefine day we will present him with a pipe already filled!"

  "All right, Herbert, and on that day our worthy companion will havenothing left to wish for in this world."

  The reporter and the lad secured a good store of the precious plant,and then returned to Granite House, where they smuggled it in with asmuch precaution as if Pencroft had been the most vigilant and severeof custom-house officers.

  Cyrus Harding and Neb were taken into confidence, and the sailorsuspected nothing during the whole time, necessarily somewhat long,which was required in order to dry the small leaves, chop them up, andsubject them to a certain torrefaction on hot stones. This took twomonths; but all these manipulations were successfully carried onunknown to Pencroft, for, occupied with the construction of his boat,he only returned to Granite House at the hour of rest.

  For some days they had observed an enormous animal two or three milesout in the open sea swimming around Lincoln Island. This was a whaleof the largest size, which apparently belonged to the southernspecies, called the "Cape Whale."

  "What a lucky chance it would be if we could capture it!" cried thesailor. "Ah, if we only had a proper boat and a good harpoon, I wouldsay, 'After the beast,' for he would be well worth the trouble ofcatching!"

  "Well, Pencroft," observed Harding, "I should much like to watch youhandling a harpoon. It would be very interesting."

  "I am astonished," said the reporter, "to see a whale in thiscomparatively high latitude."

  "Why so, Mr. Spilett?" replied Herbert. "We are exactly in that partof the Pacific which English and American whalemen call the whalefield, and it is here, between New Zealand and South America, that thewhales of the southern hemisphere are met with in the greatestnumbers."

  And Pencroft returned to his work, not without uttering a sigh ofregret, for every sailor is a born fisherman, and if the pleasure offishing is in exact proportion to the size of the animal, one canjudge how a whaler feels in sight of a whale. And if this had onlybeen for pleasure! But they could not help feeling how valuable such aprize would have been to the colony, for the oil, the fat, and thebones would have been put to many uses.

  Now it happened that this whale appeared to have no wish to leave thewaters of the island. Therefore, whether from the windows of GraniteHouse, or from Prospect Heights, Herbert and Gideon Spilett, when theywere not hunting, or Neb unless presiding over his fires, never leftthe telescope, but watched all the animal's movements. The cetacean,having entered far into Union Bay, made rapid furrows across it fromMandible Cape to Claw Cape, propelled by its enormously powerfulflukes, on which it supported itself, and making its way through thewater at the rate little short of twelve knots an hour. Sometimes alsoit approached so near to the island that it could be clearlydistinguished. It was the southern whale, which is completely black,the head being more depressed than that of the northern whale.

  They could also see it throwing up from its air-holes to a greatheight, a cloud of vapour, or of water, for, strange as it may appear,naturalists and whalers are not agreed on this subject. Is it air oris it water which is thus driven out? It is generally admitted t
o bevapour, which, condensing suddenly by contact with the cold air, fallsagain as rain.

  However, the presence of this mammifer preoccupied the colonists. Itirritated Pencroft especially as he could think of nothing else whileat work. He ended by longing for it, like a child for a thing which ithas been denied. At night he talked about it in his sleep, andcertainly if he had had the means of attacking it, if the sloop hadbeen in a fit state to put to sea, he would not have hesitated to setout in pursuit.

  But what the colonists could not do for themselves, chance did forthem, and on the 3rd of May, shouts from Neb, who had stationedhimself at the kitchen window, announced that the whale was strandedon the beach of the island.

  Herbert and Gideon Spilett, who were just about to set out hunting,left their guns, Pencroft threw down his axe, and Harding and Nebjoining their companions, all rushed towards the scene of action.

  The stranding had taken place on the beach of Flotsam Point, threemiles from Granite House, and at high tide. It was therefore probablethat the cetacean would not be able to extricate itself easily, at anyrate it was best to hasten, so as to cut off its retreat if necessary.They ran with pick-axes and iron-tipped poles in their hands, passedover the Mercy bridge, descended the right bank of the river, alongthe beach, and in less than twenty minutes the settlers were close tothe enormous animal, above which flocks of birds already hovered.

  "What a monster!" cried Neb.

  And the exclamation was natural, for it was a southern whale, eightyfeet long, a giant of the species, probably not weighing less than ahundred and fifty thousand pounds!

  In the meanwhile, the monster thus stranded did not move, nor attemptby struggling to regain the water whilst the tide was still high.

  It was dead, and a harpoon was sticking out of its left side.

  "There are whalers in these quarters, then?" said Gideon Spilettdirectly.

  A VALUABLE PRIZE]

  "Oh, Mr Spilett, that doesn't prove anything!" replied Pencroft."Whales have been known to go thousands of miles with a harpoon in theside, and this one might even have been struck in the north of theAtlantic and come to die in the south of the Pacific, and it would benothing astonishing."

  Pencroft, having torn the harpoon from the animal's side, read thisinscription on it:--

  "'MARIA STELLA,' "VINEYARD."

  "A vessel from the Vineyard! A ship from my country!" he cried. "The_Maria Stella_! A fine whaler, 'pon my word; I know her well! Oh, myfriends, a vessel from the Vineyard!--a whaler from the Vineyard!"[1]

  [1] A port in the State of New York.

  And the sailor brandishing the harpoon, repeated, not without emotion,the name which he loved so well--the name of his birthplace.

  But as it could not be expected that the _Maria Stella_ would come toreclaim the animal harpooned by her, they resolved to begin cutting itup before decomposition should commence. The birds, who had watchedthis rich prey for several days, had determined to take possession ofit without further delay, and it was necessary to drive them off byfiring at them repeatedly.

  The whale was a female, and a large quantity of milk was taken fromit, which, according to the opinion of the naturalist Duffenbach,might pass for cow's milk, and, indeed, it differs from it neither intaste, colour, nor density.

  Pencroft had formerly served on board a whaling-ship, and he couldmethodically direct the operation of cutting up--a sufficientlydisagreeable operation lasting three days, but from which the settlersdid not flinch, not even Gideon Spilett, who, as the sailor said,would end by making a "real good castaway."

  The blubber, cut in parallel slices of two feet and a half inthickness, then divided into pieces which might weigh about a thousandpounds each, was melted down in large earthen pots brought to thespot, for they did not wish to taint the environs of Granite House,and in this fusion it lost nearly a third of its weight.

  But there was an immense quantity of it; the tongue alone yielded sixthousand pounds of oil, and the lower lip four thousand. Then, besidesthe fat, which would insure for a long time a store of stearine andglycerine, there were still the bones, for which a use could doubtlessbe found, although there were neither umbrellas nor stays used atGranite House. The upper part of the mouth of the cetacean was,indeed, provided on both sides with eight hundred horny blades, veryelastic, of a fibrous texture, and fringed at the edge like greatcombs, of which the teeth, six feet long, served to retain thethousands of animalculae, little fish, and molluscs, on which the whalefed.

  The operation finished, to the great satisfaction of the operators,the remains of the animal were left to the birds, who would soon makeevery vestige of it disappear, and their usual daily occupations wereresumed by the inmates of Granite House.

  However, before returning to the dockyard, Cyrus Harding conceived theidea of fabricating certain machines, which greatly excited thecuriosity of his companions. He took a dozen of the whale's bones, cutthem into six equal parts, and sharpened their ends.

  "This machine is not my own invention, and it is frequently employedby the Aleutian hunters in Russian America. You see these bones, myfriends; well, when it freezes, I will bend them, and then wet themwith water till they are entirely covered with ice, which will keepthem bent, and I will strew them on the snow, having previouslycovered them with fat. Now, what will happen if a hungry animalswallows one of these baits? Why, the heat of his stomach will meltthe ice, and the bone, springing straight, will pierce him with itssharp points."

  "Well! I do call that ingenious!" said Pencroft.

  "And it will spare the powder and shot," rejoined Cyrus Harding.

  "That will be better than traps!" added Neb.

  In the meanwhile the boat-building progressed, and towards the end ofthe month half the planking was completed. It could already be seenthat her shape was excellent, and that she would sail well.

  Pencroft worked with unparalleled ardour, and only a sturdy framecould have borne such fatigue; but his companions were preparing insecret a reward for his labours, and on the 31st of May he was to meetwith one of the greatest joy's of his life.

  On that day, after dinner, just as he was about to leave the table,Pencroft felt a hand on his shoulder.

  It was the hand of Gideon Spilett, who said,--

  "One moment, Master Pencroft, you mustn't sneak off like that! You'veforgotten your dessert."

  "Thank you, Mr. Spilett," replied the sailor, "I am going back to mywork."

  "Well a cup of coffee, my friend?"

  "Nothing more."

  "A pipe, then?"

  Pencroft jumped up, and his great good-natured face grew pale when hesaw the reporter presenting him with a ready-filled pipe, and Herbertwith a glowing coal.

  The sailor endeavoured to speak, but could not get out a word, so,seizing the pipe, he carried it to his lips, then applying the coal,he drew five or six great whiffs. A fragrant blue cloud soon arose,and from its depths a voice was heard repeating excitedly,--

  "Tobacco! real tobacco!"

  "Yes, Pencroft," returned Cyrus Harding, "and very good tobacco too!"

  "O divine Providence! sacred Author of all things!" cried the sailor."Nothing more is now wanting to our island."

  And Pencroft smoked, and smoked, and smoked.

  "And who made this discovery?" he asked at length. "You, Herbert, nodoubt?"

  "No, Pencroft, it was Mr. Spilett."

  "Mr Spilett!" exclaimed the sailor seizing the reporter, and claspinghim to his breast with such a squeeze that he had never felt anythinglike it before.

  "Oh, Pencroft," said Spilett, recovering his breath at last, "a trucefor one moment. You must share your gratitude with Herbert, whorecognised the plant, with Cyrus, who prepared it, and with Neb whotook a great deal of trouble to keep our secret."

  "Well, my friends, I will repay you some day," replied the sailor."Now we are friends for life."

  PENCROFT HAS NOTHING LEFT TO WISH FOR]