Chapter Seventeen.
The Progress of Discovery.
A Voice in the Woods—Vive Napoleon!—Calculating the Longitude—The “Wild Frenchman’s” Hat.
Stephano. Hark! what sound is that?
Caliban. Art thou afeard, master?
Stephano. No, monster, not I.
Caliban. Be not afeard: the isle is full of noises.
Our failure to discover fresh water, or any indications of it, during yesterday’s expedition, increased the anxiety which we felt on the subject and we determined to devote the day to a continuation of the search.
The base of Castle-Hill was skirted on the left and divided from the neighbouring forest by a deep gully, that had much the appearance of a dried-up water-course, and was probably a channel by which, in the rainy season, the water from the higher ground was conveyed to the sea. From the hill we could trace the course of the ravine, until it struck the beach, near the point where the small grove, before spoken of, seemed to spring up out of the lagoon. Our last evening’s ramble along the shore had extended nearly to this spot and to avoid going over the same ground a second time, we struck into the ravine, and followed its course as it descended towards the beach.
Johnny every now and then, without any apparent object, unless to evince his entire superiority to any feeling of timidity, separated himself from the rest and disappeared for a time in the forest, generally returning with a specimen of some new plant or flower, or an account of some strange bird, or curious tree, which he had seen. From one of these adventurous excursions, he came rushing back; closely followed by Eiulo, both looking a good deal frightened, and, as soon as he had recovered breath sufficiently to be able to speak, he earnestly affirmed that he had heard a man call out to him in the wood. His statement was strange enough; he had found a twining plant, with a flower like a morning glory, and called loudly for Eiulo, who was a little way off, to come and see if it was the patara vine. The root of this plant is a valuable and nutritious esculent, and Arthur had described the leaf and flower to us, in order that we might recognise it if met with. Immediately a harsh voice issued from a neighbouring thicket, uttering some words which he did not distinctly understand, but they were in French, and were something about Napoleon.
“In French!—and about Napoleon!” cried Arthur, in amazement. “Are you quite sure, Johnny, that you heard any words at all;—any thing more than a strange noise of some kind?”
But Johnny was positive;—he had heard the “Napoleon,” as plainly as he ever heard any thing. There were only a few words—not more than two or three, but they were spoken very distinctly, and quite loud, as if the person were cheering; he could not be mistaken.
“Only two or three words,” pursued Arthur, “would you know them again if you should hear them repeated?”