colonists were motionless, waiting for the result of this exploration with a certain anxiety, when a call from Cyrus Smith made them run up. They soon joined him and were at once struck by a very disagreeable odor. This recognizable odor allowed the engineer to guess at the identity of this smoke which had caused some anxiety.
“This fire,” he said, “or rather this smoke is the result of nature’s efforts alone. It’s due to a sulfuric spring, which will allow us to treat ourselves if we have laryngitis.”
“Good,” said Pencroff. “What a pity I don’t have a cold.”
The colonists went to the spot where the smoke escaped and saw a sulfuric salt spring pouring out abundantly among the rocks. The water gave off a vivid sulfuric acid odor after absorbing the oxygen from the air.
Cyrus Smith dipped his hand into it, finding these waters oily to the touch. He tasted it and found it to be a little sweet. As for its temperature, he estimated it at 95° Fahrenheit (35° Centigrade above zero). Harbert asked him how he made his evaluation.
“Very simple, my child.” he said. “On plunging my hand into this water, I felt no sensation of either hot or cold. It’s the same temperature as the human body, around 95°.”
The smoke was from a sulphuric spring.
Since the sulfuric spring was of no immediate benefit, the colonists went toward the thick border of the forest which grew a few hundred feet away.
There, as they had guessed, the brisk clear waters of the stream ran between high banks of red ground, a color revealing the presence of iron oxide. This color immediately gave the watercourse the name of Red Creek.
It was only a large brook, deep and clear, formed by the mountain waters which, half stream and half torrent, flowed peacefully here on a sand bed, gurgling over the tops of the rocks or falling in a cascade. It flowed toward the lake a mile and a half away, and its width varied from thirty to forty feet. Its waters were fresh, which led them to believe that so were the waters of the lake. This would be a fortunate circumstance in the event they should find a dwelling on its border more agreeable than the Chimneys.
As to the trees which shaded the banks of the creek a hundred feet downstream, they appeared for the most part to be of a species which are abundant in the temperate zone of Australia and of Tasmania and not the same as the conifers which grew on that part of the island already explored a few miles from Grand View Plateau. At this time of the year, at the beginning of April, which corresponds to the month of October and early autumn in the northern hemisphere, the leaves had not yet begun to fall. This was especially so with the casuarinas and the eucalyptus, some of which would furnish next spring a sweet manna perfectly similar to the manna of the Orient. Some clusters of Australian cedars also grew in the clearings, covered with a tall grass called “tussock”2 in Australia. However, the coconut which grows so abundantly in the archipelagos of the Pacific seemed to be missing on this island3 whose latitude was doubtless too low.
“What a pity” said Harbert, “a tree which is so useful and which has such beautiful nuts.”
As for the birds, they swarmed among the somewhat sparse branches of the eucalyptus and the casuarinas since these did not interfere with their wings. Black, white, or grey cockatoos, parrots and parakeets with a plumage tinged with all colors, “kings” with a bright green crowned with red, blue loris and “blue mountains” created a sight like looking through a prism. They flew amid a deafening clatter.
All at once, a strange concert of discordant voices resounded from a thicket. The colonists heard successively the singing of birds, the cries of quadrupeds and a sort of clapping which they would have believed escaped from the lips of a native. Neb and Harbert ran toward this bush forgetting the most elementary principles of prudence. Very fortunately, there was no fearsome beast there, nor a dangerous native, but very simply a half dozen mocking and singing birds which they recognized as “mountain pheasants.” A few strokes of the stick, skillfully applied, ended this scene of mimicking and also procured some excellent game for the evening meal.
Harbert also pointed out some magnificent pigeons with bronze colored wings, some topped by a superb crest, others draped in green like their cousins from Port Macquarie; but it was impossible to catch them any more than the crows and magpies which flew away in flocks. A firing of small shot would have produced a great slaughter among these birds, but the hunters were still limited to stones for missiles and to sticks for hand held weapons, and these primitive devices were inadequate.
Their inadequacy was demonstrated more clearly again when a troop of hopping and bounding quadrupeds, making leaps of thirty feet, real flying mammals, ran away over the thicket so nimbly and at such a height that they seemed to pass from one tree to another like squirrels.
“Kangaroos!” shouted Harbert.
“Can we eat them?” replied Pencroff.
“Stewed,” responded the reporter, “they compare to the best venison! …”
Gideon Spilett had not finished this enticing statement when the sailor, followed by Neb and Harbert, rushed after the kangaroos. Cyrus Smith called them back but in vain. It was also in vain that the hunters chased this springy game which bounced like a ball. After five minutes of running, they were out of breath and the band of kangaroos disappeared in the brushwood. Top had no more success than his masters.
“Mr. Cyrus,” said Pencroff when they rejoined the engineer and the reporter, “Mr. Cyrus, you can see that it’s indispensable to make some guns. Will that be possible?”
“Perhaps,” replied the engineer, “but we’ll first begin by making some bows and arrows, and I don’t doubt that you’ll become just as skilled in their use as the Australian hunters.”
“Arrows, bows!” said Pencroff with a condescending pout. “That’s all well and good for children!”
“Don’t be proud, friend Pencroff,” responded the reporter. “Bows and arrows sufficed for centuries to stain the earth with blood. Powder is only an invention of yesterday, but war is as old as the human race, unfortunately.”
“That’s very true, and you must excuse me, Mr. Spilett,” replied the sailor, “I always speak too hastily.”
Harbert however, engrossed in his favorite science of natural history, returned to the subject of the kangaroos by saying:
“Besides, we had an encounter there with a species that is difficult to capture. They were giant kangaroos with long grey fur, but if I am not mistaken, there also exist black and red kangaroos, rock kangaroos and rat kangaroos, which are much easier to catch. There are at least a dozen different species …”
“Harbert,” replied the sailor dogmatically, “for me there is only one species of kangaroo, the ‘kangaroo-on-the-spit,’ and that is precisely the one that we won’t be having this evening.”
They could not help laughing on hearing this new classification by Master Pencroff. The good sailor could not hide his regret at being reduced to a dinner of singing pheasants, but good fortune would once more accommodate him.
Top took a strong interest in the hunt, nosing about everywhere with an instinct increased by a ferocious appetite. It was even likely that, if he managed to catch some game, nothing would be left to the hunters because Top was now hunting for himself. Neb did well to watch
