JEAN ZERMATT PEAK
This peak was merely a prodigious pile of rocks, thrown together anyhow. Nevertheless there were ledges and projections on its face on which the foot could find a firm support. Still retaining the lead, Jack tested these and felt his way, and, following him cautiously, Mr. Wolston and Ernest gradually made their way up.
The surface of this third belt of the mountain was barren and desolate. There was practically no vegetation upon it.
Sometimes the surface was as smooth as glass, and a fall would have ended only at the bottom of the peak. Care had to be taken, too, not to displace any of the masses of rock, and so, perhaps, set moving an avalanche which would have rolled right down to the foot of the range.
Granite and limestone were the constituents of this mighty framework of the mountain. There was nothing to indicate a volcanic origin.
The three adventurers got halfway up the peak without mishap. But they could not entirely avoid starting some landslips.
Three or four huge rocks bounded furiously down the steeps to plunge into the depths of the forest below with a roar like thunder, repeated by the many echoes of the mountain.
At this altitude a few birds were still to be seen hovering about, sole representatives of animal life in this third belt, where, however, they did not seek to light. A few pairs of powerful birds of enormous spread of wing, leisurely flapping through the air, occasionally passed over the summit of the peak. Jack was greatly tempted to fire at them, and it would have been a great delight to him to have shot one of these vultures or gigantic condors.
More than once the young sportsman made a movement to raise his gun to his shoulder.
"What for?" Mr. Wolston called out.
"What? What for?" Jack answered. "Why, to——"
And then, without finishing his sentence, he would sling his gun behind him again, and spring forward over the rocks.
Now the upper crest of the slope became even steeper—a regular sugar-loaf. Mr. Wolston began to wonder whether there would be room for three people on the summit. It now became necessary for the traveller ahead to help the next. Jack pulled Ernest up; then Ernest pulled Mr. Wolston up. They had tried in vain to work round the base of the peak. It was only on the north side that the ascent presented difficulties that were not insuperable.
At last, about two o'clock in the afternoon, Jack's ringing voice was heard—the first, no doubt, that had ever resounded from this pinnacle.
"An island! It really is an island!"
A final effort by Mr. Wolston and Ernest brought them to the summit. There, on a narrow space not much more than twelve feet square exhausted, almost incapable of speaking, they lay down flat to recover breath.
Although the sea surrounded New Switzerland on all sides, it did so at unequal distances from the mountain. Widely displayed towards the south, much more restricted towards the east and west, and reduced to a mere bluish rim up in the north, the sea lay glittering under the rays of the sun, now a few degrees below its highest point of altitude.
It was now evident that the range did not occupy the central portion of the island. On the contrary, it rose in the south and followed an almost regular curve, drawn from east to west.
From this point, fifteen hundred feet above sea level, the range of vision was about forty or forty-five miles to the horizon. But New Switzerland did not extend in any direction as far as that.
"I calculate that our island must be a hundred and fifty to a hundred and seventy miles in circumference. That represents a considerable area, larger than the canton of Lucerne," said Ernest.
"What would its extent be, approximately?" Mr. Wolston asked.
"As far as I can estimate it, taking the configuration, which is a kind of oval drawn from east to west, into account, it might measure a thousand square miles," Ernest replied; "say half the size of Sicily."
"There are a good many famous islands that aren't so big," said Jack.
"Very true," Ernest answered; "and one of them, if my memory serves me, is one of the principal islands in the Mediterranean; it is of supreme importance to England, but it is only twenty-two miles long by ten miles broad."
"What is that?"
"Malta."
"Malta?" Mr. Wolston exclaimed, all his patriotism inflamed by the name. "Well, why should not New Switzerland become the Malta of the Indian Ocean?"
To which Jack replied in an aside with the very natural remark that old Switzerland would have done well to keep it for herself, and to establish a Swiss colony there.
The sky was clear, without the faintest haze in the atmosphere. There was not a trace of dampness in the air, and the land stood out in clear relief.
As the descent of the mountain would only take about a third of the time required for the ascent, Mr. Wolston and the two brothers had several hours at their disposal before the time came for them to get back to the pine wood. So they passed the telescope round from hand to hand, and took a careful survey of the vast country which lay spread out below them.
Ernest, with notebook and pencil, traced the outlines of this oval, through which the nineteenth parallel of the Southern Hemisphere ran for about fifty-five miles, and the hundred and fourteenth meridian east for about forty-seven.
In a northerly direction, at a distance of something like twenty-five miles as the crow flies, a good deal could be distinguished.
Beyond the coast line, a narrow edging of sea washed the portion comprised between False Hope Point and the promontory which enclosed Pearl Bay to the westward.
"It's unmistakable," said Jack; "I need no telescope to recognise the Promised Land and the coast as far as Deliverance Bay."
"Quite so," Mr. Wolston agreed; "and at the far end of that opposite angle is Cape East, shutting in Unicorn Bay."
"Unfortunately," Jack went on, "even with this splendid telescope of Ernest's, we can't see any of the country near Jackal River."
"That is because it is hidden by the wall of rocks which bounds it on the south," Ernest replied. "You cannot see the summit of the range from Rock Castle or Falconhurst, and so you cannot see Rock Castle or Falconhurst from the summit of the range. That's logic, I suppose."
"Logic, indeed, most wise philosopher!" Jack answered. "But that ought to be equally true of False Hope Point, and yet there it is, that cape running out to the north, and since we can see it——"
"Although it may be true that you can see this peak from False Hope Point, and even from Prospect Hill," Ernest replied, "the first condition for seeing anything is that you should look for it. The probability is that we have never looked carefully enough."
"The general conclusion," Mr. Wolston added, "is that the range, properly speaking, can only be seen from above the Green Valley."
"That is the position, sir," said Ernest, "and it is those heights that hide Rock Castle from us now."
"I am sorry," Jack went on, "for I am sure we could have made out all our people. If it had occurred to them to go to Prospect Hill, I wager that we should have been able to recognise them—with the telescope, of course. For they are over there, talking about us, counting the hours, and saying: 'They would have got to the foot of the mountain yesterday, and to-day they will be at the top.' And they are wondering how big New Switzerland is, and if it makes a good show in the Indian Ocean."
"Well said, my boy!" laughed Mr. Wolston. "I fancy I hear them."
"And I fancy I see them," Jack declared. "Never mind! I am still sorry that the rocks hide Jackal River from us, and our house at Rock Castle too."
"No good being sorry," Ernest remarked, "when you've got to put up with it."
"It is the fault of this peak," Jack complained. "Why isn't it higher? If it rose a few hundred feet higher into the air, our people would see us from over there. They would signal to us. They would hoist a flag on the pigeon-house at Rock Castle. We would wag them good morning with ours——"
"Jack's off again!" said Mr. Wolston.
"And I am sure that Ernest would see Hannah!"
"I see her all the time."
"Of course; even without a glass," Jack answered quickly. "Ah! the eyes of the heart are long-sighted!"
All that remained was for the explorers to make an accurate survey of the island, noting its general outline and its geologic formation.
On the east, to the rear of Unicorn Bay, the coast showed like a rocky frame enclosing the whole of the desert region which had been previously explored, when the pinnace made her first voyage. Then the cliffs grew lower, and the coast line rose towards the mouth of the Montrose River, where it formed a sharp point to bend back towards the spot where the range rose in the south-east.
Glimpses could be caught of the Montrose, winding like a gleaming thread. The lower reaches of the river ran through a wooded and verdant region; the upper reaches through a barren waste. It was fed by numerous streams from the high levels of the pine wood, and made numerous twists and turns. Beyond the dense forests between the groves and clumps of trees lay a succession of plains and grass lands right to the western extremity of the island, where rose a high hill, marking the other end of the range, twelve or fifteen miles away.
In outline the island was almost exactly the shape of the leaf of a tree.
In the west numerous water-courses gleamed in the sun's rays. To the north and east were only the Montrose and Eastern Rivers.
To sum up, then, New Switzerland, at any rate the five-sixths of it which lay to the north of the range, was a land of wonderful fertility, quite capable of supporting several thousand inhabitants.
As to its situation in the Indian Ocean, it was clear that it belonged to no group of islands. The telescope discovered no sign of land anywhere on the horizon. The nearest coast was seven hundred and fifty miles away, the coast of Australia, or New Holland, as it was called in those days.
But although the island had no satellites lying round its coast, one rocky point rose up from the sea some ten miles to the west of Pearl Bay. Jack levelled his glass upon it.
"The Burning Rock—which isn't burning!" he exclaimed. "And I guarantee that Fritz would not have required any telescope to recognise it!"
Thus New Switzerland, as a whole, was well adapted for the establishment of an important colony. But what the north and east and west had to offer must not be looked for in the south.
Bent round in the form of a bow, the two extremities of the range rested on the coast line, at almost equal distance from the base of the peak which rose in its centre. The portion enclosed within this arc was bounded by a long succession of cliffs, which appeared to be almost perpendicular.
The contrast between the sixth portion of the island and the other five, so generously favoured by nature, was great. The utter desolation of a desert, all the horror of chaos, reigned there. The upper belt of the range extended right to the end of the island, and seemed to be impassable. It was possible, however, that it was connected with the coast line to the south by ravines, gorges, and gullies worn through the steep slopes. The actual shore, sand or rock, where it might be possible to land, was probably a mere narrow strip only uncovered at low tide.
The three were all affected by the melancholy which seemed to be exhaled from this depressing country, and remained silent while their eyes travelled over it. It was Ernest who made the following characteristic remark:
"If after the wreck of the Landlord we had been cast upon this coast, our tub boat would have been smashed and we should have had nothing but death to look for—death from starvation!"
"You are quite right, my dear boy," Mr. Wolston answered; "on this shore you could hardly have hoped for a chance. Of course, if you had managed to land a few miles farther north you would have found fertile land and the game country. But I am afraid this awful region has no communication with the interior of the island, and I do not know if it would have been possible to get there through the southern side of the range."
"It isn't very likely," Jack put in, "but as we went round the coast we should certainly have come upon the mouth of the Montrose and the fertile part of the island."
"Yes," said Ernest, "provided our boat could have got up towards the east or the west. But the south coast would not have offered us a bay like Deliverance Bay, where we got ashore without any great trouble."
It most certainly was a happy chance that had cast the shipwrecked survivors of the Landlord upon the northern shore of New Switzerland. But for that how could they possibly have escaped the most horrible of deaths, at the foot of this enormous pile of rocks?
The three adventurers decided to remain on the summit of the peak until four o'clock. They took all the bearings necessary to complete the map of New Switzerland—except the southern portion, which must remain incomplete for the present, since they could not see it all. But the work would be completed when the Unicorn returned and Lieutenant Littlestone finished his survey of the island.
Ernest tore a leaf out of his pocket book and wrote the following lines:
"The 30th of September, 1917, at 4 p.m., from the summit of——"
There he broke off.
"What shall we call this peak?" he asked.
"Call it the Peak of Sorrow," Jack answered, "because we can't see Rock Castle from it."
"No, call it Jean Zermatt, boys, in honour of your father," Mr. Wolston suggested.
The suggestion was agreed to with delight. Jack pulled a cup out of his game-bag. Mr. Wolston and Ernest followed suit. A few drops of brandy from the flasks were poured into the cups and drunk with three cheers.
Then Ernest got on with his letter.
"——from the summit of Jean Zermatt Peak, we are sending to you, my dear parents, to you, Mrs. Wolston, and to you, my dear Hannah, this note entrusted to our faithful messenger who, more fortunate than we, will soon be back at Rock Castle.
"Our New Switzerland, a solitary island in the Indian Ocean, is about a hundred and fifty or a hundred and seventy miles in circumference. Most of it is immensely fertile, but on the southern side of the range it is barren and appears to be uninhabitable.
"In forty-eight hours, since the return journey will be easier, we may possibly be back with you, and before the end of another three weeks, God willing, we may hope to set eyes again upon our absent ones, for whose return we are so impatient.
"All love to you, dear parents, to Mrs. Wolston, and my dear Hannah, from Mr. Wolston, my brother Jack, and your affectionate son, Ernest."
The pigeon was taken from its little cage. Ernest tied the note to its left foot and let it fly.
The bird rose thirty or forty feet above the summit of the peak, as if to obtain the widest possible view. Then, guided by its marvellous sense of direction, the sixth sense which all animals seem to possess, it flew rapidly away towards the north and soon was out of sight.
All that now remained to be done was to hoist at the top of Jean Zermatt Peak the flag, for which Mr. Wolston's long stick, driven into the ground between the topmost rocks, was to serve as a flagstaff.
When this was accomplished they would only have to make their way down to the foot of the range, get to the cave, fortify themselves with a substantial meal, for which their guns would provide materials, and then enjoy the rest they had earned by such a tiring day.
The start for home would be made at dawn next day. By following the route already discovered, it was not impossible that they might reach Rock Castle in less than forty-eight hours.
So Mr. Wolston and Jack set to work to plant the stick deeply and firmly enough to withstand the winds, which would sure to be violent at so great an altitude.
"The essential thing," Jack remarked, "is that this flag of ours should be flying when the Unicorn arrives, so that Lieutenant Littlestone may see it directly the corvette gets in sight of the island. That will stir the hearts of Fritz and Jenny and Frank and your children, Mr. Wolston, and our hearts, too, when we hear the twenty-one guns saluting the flag of New Switzerland!"
It was quite easy to wedge the staff between the rocks and pack it in with little stones.
Just as he was going to fasten the flag to the staff, Mr. Wolston, who was facing eastwards, looked in that direction. He did with such intensity that Jack asked:
"What is the matter, Mr. Wolston?"
"I again thought that I saw——" he answered. And again he raised the telescope to his eye.
"Saw what?" Ernest pressed him.
"Smoke rising from the shore," Mr. Wolston answered, "unless it is a cloud like I saw before, when the pinnace was off the mouth of the Montrose River."
"Well," said Ernest, "is it passing away?"
"No," said Mr. Wolston; "and it must be at the same spot—at the far end of the range. Can there have been any shipwrecked men, or any savages, camped on that part of the coast for the past few weeks?"
Ernest looked carefully at the indicated spot, taking the glass in his turn, but he could see nothing in that direction.
"Why, Mr. Wolston, that is not where we need look; it's over here, to the south——" And Jack stretched his hand towards the sea beyond the huge cliffs that towered over the shore.
"It's a sail!" Ernest exclaimed.
"Yes, a sail!" Jack repeated.
"There is a ship in sight of the island," Ernest went on, "and she seems to be steering for it."
Mr. Wolston took the telescope and distinctly saw a three-masted vessel moving under full sail six or seven miles out at sea.
Jack shouted, gesticulating wildly.
"It is the Unicorn! It can only be the Unicorn! She was not due until the middle of October, and here she is at the end of September, a fortnight before her time."
"There is nothing impossible in that," Mr. Wolston replied. "But, nevertheless, before we can be positive we must make quite sure which direction she is going in."
"She is making for New Switzerland," Jack declared. "To-morrow morning she will appear to the west of Deliverance Bay, and we shall be there to greet her! Let us be off, Mr. Wolston; let us travel all night!"
Jack, who was just getting ready to slide down the side of the peak, was checked by a final word from Ernest.
"No," he said, "look carefully, Mr. Wolston. The ship is not steering towards the island."
"That is so," said Mr. Wolston, after watching the movement of the vessel for a few minutes.
"Then she is not the Unicorn?" Jack exclaimed.
"No," said Ernest positively.
"Besides," Mr. Wolston added, "the Unicorn would come from the north-west, and this ship is going towards the south-east and away from the island."
There could be no mistake on this score; the three-master was travelling east, without taking any notice of New Switzerland.
"All right!" said Jack. "But the Unicorn will come soon, and at any rate we shall be there to pay the regulation salute to the corvette of His Majesty King George III!"
The flag was hoisted on the summit of Jean Zermatt Peak and blew out into the breeze, while Jack did it the honours with two shots from his gun.