“Well,” replied Cyrus Harding, “that will be exactly the most favorable time for undertaking a voyage of any importance, either to Tabor Island or to a more distant land.”
“So it will, captain,” answered the sailor. “Make out your plans then; the workmen are ready, and I imagine that Ayrton can lend us a good helping hand.”
The colonists, having been consulted, approved the engineer’s plan, and it was, indeed, the best thing to be done.
It is true that the construction of a ship of from two to three hundred tons would be great labor, but the colonists had confidence in themselves, justified by their previous success.
Cyrus Harding then busied himself in drawing the plan of the vessel and making the model.
During this time his companions employed themselves in felling and carting trees to furnish the ribs, timbers, and planks.
The forest of the Far West supplied the best oaks and elms. They took advantage of the opening already made on their last excursion to form a practicable road, which they named the Far West Road, and the trees were carried to the Chimneys, where the dockyard was established.
As to the road in question, the choice of trees had rendered its direction somewhat capricious, but at the same time it facilitated the access to a large part of the Serpentine Peninsula.
It was important that the trees should be quickly felled and cut up, for they could not be used while yet green, and some time was necessary to allow them to get seasoned.
The carpenters, therefore, worked vigorously during the month of April, which was troubled only by a few equinoctial gales of some violence.
Master Jup aided them dexterously, either by climbing to the top of a tree to fasten the ropes or by lending his stout shoulders to carry the lopped trunks.
All this timber was piled up under a large shed, built near the Chimneys, and there awaited the time for use.
The month of April was tolerably fine, as October often is in the northern zone.
At the same time other work was actively continued, and soon all trace of devastation disappeared from the plateau of Prospect Heights.
The mill was rebuilt, and new buildings rose in the poultry-yard.
It had appeared necessary to enlarge their dimensions, for the feathered population had increased considerably.
The stable now contained five onagers, four of which were well broken, and allowed themselves to be either driven or ridden, and a little colt.
The colony now possessed a plow, to which the onagers were yoked like regular Yorkshire or Kentucky oxen.
The colonists divided their work, and their arms never tired.
Then who could have enjoyed better health than these workers, and what good humor enlivened the evenings in Granite House as they formed a thousand plans for the future!
As a matter of course Ayrton shared the common lot in every respect, and there was no longer any talk of his going to live at the corral.
Nevertheless he was still sad and reserved, and joined more in the work than in the pleasures of his companions.
But he was a valuable workman at need—strong, skilful, ingenious, intelligent.
He was esteemed and loved by all, and he could not be ignorant of it.
In the meanwhile the corral was not abandoned.
Every other day one of the settlers, driving the cart or mounted on an onager, went to look after the flock of musmons and goats and bring back the supply of milk required by Neb.
These excursions at the same time afforded opportunities for hunting.
Therefore Herbert and Gideon Spilett, with Top in front, traversed more often than their companions the road to the corral, and with the capital guns which they carried, capybaras, agouties, kangaroos, and wild pigs for large game, ducks, grouse, jacamars, and snipe for small game, were never wanting in the house.
The produce of the warren, of the oyster-bed, several turtles which were taken, excellent salmon which came up the Mercy, vegetables from the plateau, wild fruit from the forest, were riches upon riches, and Neb, the head cook, could scarcely by himself store them away.
The telegraphic wire between the corral and Granite House had of course been repaired, and it was worked whenever one or other of the settlers was at the corral and found it necessary to spend the night there.
Besides, the island was safe now and no attacks were to be feared, at any rate from men.
However, that which had happened might happen again.
A descent of pirates, or even of escaped convicts, was always to be feared.
It was possible that companions or accomplices of Bob Harvey had been in the secret of his plans, and might be tempted to imitate him.
The colonists, therefore, were careful to observe the sea around the island, and every day their telescope covered the horizon enclosed by Union and Washington Bays.
When they went to the corral they examined the sea to the west with no less attention, and by climbing the spur their gaze extended over a large section of the western horizon.
Nothing suspicious was discerned, but still it was necessary for them to be on their guard.
The engineer one evening imparted to his friends a plan which he had conceived for fortifying the corral.
It appeared prudent to him to heighten the palisade and to flank it with a sort of blockhouse, which, if necessary, the settlers could hold against the enemy.
Granite House might, by its very position, be considered impregnable; therefore the corral with its buildings, its stores, and the animals it contained, would always be the object of pirates, whoever they were, who might land on the island, and should the colonists be obliged to shut themselves up there they ought also to be able to defend themselves without any disadvantage.
This was a project which might be left for consideration, and they were, besides, obliged to put off its execution until the next spring.
About the 15th of May the keel of the new vessel lay along the dockyard, and soon the stem and stern-post, mortised at each of its extremities, rose almost perpendicularly.
The keel, of good oak, measured 110 feet in length, this allowing a width of five-and-twenty feet to the midship beam.
But this was all the carpenters could do before the arrival of the frosts and bad weather.
During the following week they fixed the first of the stern timbers, but were then obliged to suspend work.
During the last days of the month the weather was extremely bad.
The wind blew from the east, sometimes with the violence of a tempest.
The engineer was somewhat uneasy on account of the dockyard shed—which besides, he could not have established in any other place near to Granite House—for the islet only imperfectly sheltered the shore from the fury of the open sea, and in great storms the waves beat against the very foot of the granite cliff.
But, very fortunately, these fears were not realized.
The wind shifted to the southeast, and there the beach of Granite House was completely covered by Flotsam Point.