It had been agreed that the construction of the vessel should be actively pushed forward, and Cyrus Harding more than ever devoted his time and labor to this object.
It was impossible to divine what future lay before them.
Evidently the advantage to the colonists would be great of having at their disposal a substantial vessel, capable of keeping the sea even in heavy weather, and large enough to attempt, in case of need, a voyage of some duration.
Even if, when their vessel should be completed, the colonists should not resolve to leave Lincoln Island as yet, in order to gain either one of the Polynesian Archipelagoes of the Pacific or the shores of New Zealand, they might at least, sooner or later, proceed to Tabor Island, to leave there the notice relating to Ayrton.
This was a precaution rendered indispensable by the possibility of the Scotch yacht reappearing in those seas, and it was of the highest importance that nothing should be neglected on this point.
The works were then resumed.
Cyrus Harding, Pencroft, and Ayrton, assisted by Neb, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert, except when unavoidably called off by other necessary occupations, worked without cessation.
It was important that the new vessel should be ready in five months—that is to say, by the beginning of March—if they wished to visit Tabor Island before the equinoctial gales rendered the voyage impracticable.
Therefore the carpenters lost not a moment.
Moreover, it was unnecessary to manufacture rigging, that of the
“Speedy” having been saved entire, so that the hull only of the vessel needed to be constructed.
The end of the year 1868 found them occupied by these important labors, to the exclusion of almost all others.
At the expiration of two months and a half the ribs had been set up and the first planks adjusted.
It was already evident that the plans made by Cyrus Harding were admirable, and that the vessel would behave well at sea.
Pencroft brought to the task a devouring energy, and would even grumble when one or the other abandoned the carpenter’s axe for the gun of the hunter.
It was nevertheless necessary to keep up the stores of Granite House, in view of the approaching winter.
But this did not satisfy Pencroft. The brave, honest sailor was not content when the workmen were not at the dockyard.
When this happened he grumbled vigorously, and, by way of venting his feelings, did the work of six men.
The weather was very unfavorable during the whole of the summer season.
For some days the heat was overpowering, and the atmosphere, saturated with electricity, was only cleared by violent storms.
It was rarely that the distant growling of the thunder could not be heard, like a low but incessant murmur, such as is produced in the equatorial regions of the globe.
The 1st of January, 1869, was signalized by a storm of extreme violence, and the thunder burst several times over the island.
Large trees were struck by the electric fluid and shattered, and among others one of those gigantic nettle-trees which had shaded the poultry-yard at the southern extremity of the lake.
Had this meteor any relation to the phenomena going on in the bowels of the earth?
Was there any connection between the commotion of the atmosphere and that of the interior of the earth?
Cyrus Harding was inclined to think that such was the case, for the development of these storms was attended by the renewal of volcanic symptoms.
It was on the 3rd of January that Herbert, having ascended at daybreak to the plateau of Prospect Heights to harness one of the onagers, perceived an enormous hat-shaped cloud rolling from the summit of the volcano.
Herbert immediately apprised the colonists, who at once joined him in watching the summit of Mount Franklin.
“Ah!” exclaimed Pencroft, “those are not vapors this time! It seems to me that the giant is not content with breathing; he must smoke!”
This figure of speech employed by the sailor exactly expressed the changes going on at the mouth of the volcano.
Already for three months had the crater emitted vapors more or less dense, but which were as yet produced only by an internal ebullition of mineral substances.
But now the vapors were replaced by a thick smoke, rising in the form of a grayish column, more than three hundred feet in width at its base, and which spread like an immense mushroom to a height of from seven to eight hundred feet above the summit of the mountain.
“The fire is in the chimney,” observed Gideon Spilett.
“And we can’t put it out!” replied Herbert.
“The volcano ought to be swept,” observed Neb, who spoke as if perfectly serious.
“Well said, Neb!” cried Pencroft, with a shout of laughter; “and you’ll undertake the job, no doubt?”
Cyrus Harding attentively observed the dense smoke emitted by Mount Franklin, and even listened, as if expecting to hear some distant muttering.
Then, turning towards his companions, from whom he had gone somewhat apart, he said,—
“The truth is, my friends, we must not conceal from ourselves that an important change is going forward.
The volcanic substances are no longer in a state of ebullition, they have caught fire, and we are undoubtedly menaced by an approaching eruption.”
“Well, captain,” said Pencroft, “we shall witness the eruption; and if it is a good one, we’ll applaud it. I don’t see that we need concern ourselves further about the matter.”
“It may be so,” replied Cyrus Harding, “for the ancient track of the lava is still open; and thanks to this, the crater has hitherto overflowed towards the north.
And yet—”
“And yet, as we can derive no advantage from an eruption, it might be better it should not take place,” said the reporter.
“Who knows?” answered the sailor. “Perhaps there may be some valuable substance in this volcano, which it will spout forth, and which we may turn to good account!”
Cyrus Harding shook his head with the air of a man who augured no good from the phenomenon whose development had been so sudden.
He did not regard so lightly as Pencroft the results of an eruption.
If the lava, in consequence of the position of the crater, did not directly menace the wooded and cultivated parts of the island, other complications might present themselves.
In fact, eruptions are not unfrequently accompanied by earthquakes; and an island of the nature of Lincoln Island, formed of substances so varied, basalt on one side, granite on the other, lava on the north, rich soil on the south, substances which consequently could not be firmly attached to each other, would be exposed to the risk of disintegration.
Although, therefore, the spreading of the volcanic matter might not constitute a serious danger, any movement of the terrestrial structure which should shake the island might entail the gravest consequences.