CHAPTER XXI.WINTER-QUARTERS.
The habitation that had now revealed itself, well lighted
and thoroughly warm, was indeed marvellous. Not only
would it afford ample accommodation for Hector Servadac
and “his subjects,” as Ben Zoof delighted to call them,
but it would provide shelter for the two horses, and for a
considerable number of domestic animals.
This enormous cavern was neither more nor less than
the common junction of nearly twenty tunnels (similar to
that which had been traversed by the explorers), forming
ramifications in the solid rock, and the pores, as it were, by
which the internal heat exuded from the heart of the
mountain. Here, as long as the volcano retained its
activity, every living creature on the new asteroid might
brave the most rigorous of climates; and as Count
Timascheff justly remarked, since it was the only burning
mountain they had sighted, it was most probably the sole
outlet for Gallia's subterranean fires, and consequently the
eruption would continue unchanged for ages to come.
But not a day, not an hour, was to be lost now. The
steam-launch returned to Gourbi Island, and preparations
were forthwith taken in hand for conveying man and beast,
corn and fodder, across to the volcanic headland. Loud
and hearty were the acclamations of the little colony,
especially of the Spaniards, and great was the relief of
Nina, when Servadac announced to them the discovery of
their future domicile; and with requickened energies they
laboured hard at the packing, anxious to reach their genia!
winter-quarters without delay.
For three successive days the Dobryna, laden to her
very gunwale, made a transit to and fro. Ben Zoof was
left upon the island to superintend the stowage of the
freight, whilst Servadac found abundant occupation in
overlooking its disposal within the recesses of the mountain.
First of all, the large store of corn and fodder, the
produce of the recent harvest, was landed and deposited in
one of the vaults; then, on the 15th, about fifty head of
live cattle—bullocks, cows, sheep, and pigs—were conveyed
to their rocky stalls. These were saved for the sake of
preserving the several breeds, the bulk of the island cattle
being slaughtered, as the extreme severity of the climate
insured all meat remaining fresh for almost an indefinite
period. The winter which they were expecting would
probably be of unprecedented length; it was quite likely
that it would exceed the six months' duration by which
many arctic explorers have been tried; but the population
of Gallia had no anxiety in the matter of provisions—their
stock was far more than adequate; while as for drink, as
long as they were satisfied with pure water, a frozen sea
would afford them an inexhaustible reservoir.
The need for haste in forwarding their preparations
became more and more manifest; the sea threatened to be
unnavigable very soon, as ice was already forming which
the noonday sun was unable to melt. And if haste were
necessary, so also were care, ingenuity, and forethought.
It was indispensable that the space at their command
should be properly utilized, and yet that the several
portions of the store should all be readily accessible.
On further investigation an unexpected number of
galleries was discovered, so that, in fact, the interior of the
mountain was like a vast bee-hive perforated with innumerable
cells; and in compliment to the little Italian it
was unanimously voted by the colony that their new home
should be called “Nina's Hive.”
The first care of Captain Servadac was to ascertain how
he could make the best possible use of the heat which
Nature had provided for them so opportunely and with so
lavish a hand. By opening fresh vents in the solid rock
(which by the action of the heat was here capable of
fissure) the stream of burning lava was diverted into
several new channels, where it could be available for daily
use; and thus Mochel, the Dobryna's cook, was furnished
with an admirable kitchen, provided with a permanent
stove, where he was duly installed with all his culinary
apparatus.
“What a saving of expense it would be,” exclaimed
Ben Zoof, “if every household could be furnished with its
own private volcano!”
The large cavern at the general junction of the
galleries was fitted up as a drawing-room, and arranged
with all the best furniture both of the gourbi and of the
cabin of the Dobryna. Hither was also brought the
schooner's library, containing a good variety of French
and Russian books; lamps were suspended over the
different tables; and the walls of the apartment were
tapestried with the sails and adorned with the flags
belonging to the yacht. The curtain of fire extending
over the opening of the cavern provided it, as already
stated, with light and heat.
The torrent of lava fell into a small rock-bound basin
that had no apparent communication with the sea, and was
evidently the aperture of a deep abyss, of which the
waters, heated by the descent of the eruptive matter,
would no doubt retain their liquid condition long after the
Gallian Sea had become a sheet of ice.
A small excavation to the left of the common hall was
allotted for the special use of Servadac and the count;
another on the right was appropriated to the lieutenant
and Ben Zoof; whilst a third recess, immediately at the
back, made a convenient little chamber for Nina. The
Spaniards and the Russian sailors took up their sleeping-quarters
in the adjacent galleries, and found the temperature
quite comfortable.
Such were the internal arrangements of Nina's Hive,
the refuge where the little colony were full of hope that
they would be able to brave the rigours of the stern wintertime
that lay before them—a winter-time during which
Gallia might possibly be projected even to the orbit of
Jupiter, where the temperature would not exceed one
twenty-fifth of the normal winter temperature of the earth.
The only discontented spirit was Isaac Hakkabut.
Throughout all the preparations which roused even the
Spaniards to activity, the Jew, still incredulous and deaf to
every representation of the true state of things, insisted
upon remaining in the creek at Gourbi Island; nothing
could induce him to leave his tartan, where, like a miser, he
would keep guard over his precious cargo, ever grumbling
and growling, but with his weather-eye open in the hope of
catching sight of some passing sail. It must be owned
that the whole party were far from sorry to be relieved of
his presence; his uncomely figure and repulsive countenance
was a perpetual bugbear. He had given out in plain
terms that he did not intend to part with any of his
property, except for current money, and Servadac, equally
resolute, had strictly forbidden any purchases to be made
hoping to wear out the rascal's obstinacy.
Hakkabut persistently refused to credit the real
situation; he could not absolutely deny that some portions
of the terrestrial globe had undergone a certain degree of
modification, but nothing could bring him to believe that
he was not, sooner or later, to resume his old line of
business in the Mediterranean. With his wonted distrust
of all with whom he came in contact, he regarded every
argument that was urged upon him only as evidence of a
plot that had been devised to deprive him of his goods.
Repudiating, as he did utterly, the hypothesis that a fragment
had become detached from the earth, he scanned the
horizon for hours together with an old telescope, the case
of which had been patched up till it looked like a rusty
stove-pipe, hoping to descry the passing trader with which
he might effect some bartering upon advantageous terms.
At first he professed to regard the proposed removal
into winter-quarters as an attempt to impose upon his
credulity; but the frequent voyages made by the Dobryna
to the south, and the repeated consignments of corn and
cattle, soon served to make him aware that Captain Servadac
and his companions were really contemplating a
departure from Gourbi Island.
The movement set him thinking. What, he began to
ask himself—what if all that was told him was true? What
if this sea was no longer the Mediterranean? What if he
should never again behold his German fatherland? What
if his marts for business were gone for ever? A vague
idea of ruin began to take possession of his mind: he
must yield to necessity; he must do the best he could.
As the result of his cogitations, he occasionally left his
tartan and made a visit to the shore. At length he endeavoured
to mingle with the busy group, who were hurrying
on their preparations; but his advances were only met
by jeers and scorn, and, ridiculed by all the rest, he was
fain to turn his attention to Ben Zoof, to whom he offered
a few pinches of tobacco.
“No, old Zebulon,” said Ben Zoof, steadily refusing
the gift, “it is against orders to take anything from you.
Keep your cargo to yourself; eat and drink it all if you
can; we are not to touch it.”
Finding the subordinates incorruptible, Isaac determined
to go to the fountain-head. He addressed himself
to Servadac, and begged him to tell him the whole truth,
piteously adding that surely it was unworthy of a French
officer to deceive a poor old man like himself.
“Tell you the truth, man!” cried Servadac. “Confound
it, I have told you the truth twenty times. Once for all, I
tell you now, you have left yourself barely time enough to
make your escape to yonder mountain.”
“God and Mahomet have mercy on me!” muttered
the Jew, whose creed frequently assumed a very ambiguous
character.
“I will tell you what,” continued the captain—“you
shall have a few men to work the Hansa across, if you
like.”
“But I want to go to Algiers,” whimpered Hakkabut.
“How often am I to tell you that Algiers is no longer
in existence? Only say yes or no—are you coming with
us into winter-quarters?”
“God of Israel! what is to become of all my property?”
“But, mind you,” continued the captain, not heeding
the interruption, “if you do not choose voluntarily to
come with us, I shall have the Hansa, by my orders,
removed to a place of safety. I am not going to let your
cursed obstinacy incur the risk of losing your cargo
altogether.”
“Merciful Heaven! I shall be ruined I” moaned Isaac,
in despair.
“You are going the right way to ruin yourself, and it
would serve you right to leave you to your own devices.
But be off! I have no more to say.”
And, turning contemptuously on his heel, Servadac
left the old man vociferating bitterly, and with uplifted
hands protesting vehemently against the rapacity of the
Gentiles.
By the 20th all preliminary arrangements were complete,
and everything ready for a final departure from the
island. The thermometer stood on an average at 8°
below zero, and the water in the cistern was completely
frozen. It was determined, therefore, for the colony to
embark on the following day, and take up their residence in
Nina's Hive.
A final consultation was held about the Hansa. Lieutenant
Procope pronounced his decided conviction that it
would be impossible for the tartan to resist the pressure of
the ice in the harbour of the Sheliff, and that there would
be far more safety in the proximity of the volcano. It
was agreed on all hands that the vessel must be shifted;
and accordingly orders were given, four Russian sailors
were sent on board, and only a few minutes elapsed after
the Dobryna had weighed anchor, before the great lateen
sail of the tartan was unfurled, and the “shop-ship,” as
Ben Zoof delighted to call it, was also on her way to the
southward.
Long and loud were the lamentations of the Jew. He
kept exclaiming that he had given no orders, that he was
being moved against his will, that he had asked for no
assistance, and needed none; but it required no very keen
discrimination to observe that all along there was a lurking
gleam of satisfaction in his little grey eyes, and when, a
few hours later, he found himself securely anchored, and
his property in a place of safety, he quite chuckled with glee.
“God of Israel!” he said in an undertone, “they have
made no charge; the idiots have piloted me here for
nothing.”
For nothing! His whole nature exulted in the consciousness
that he was enjoying a service that had been
rendered gratuitously.
Destitute of human inhabitants, Gourbi Island was
now left to the tenancy of such birds and beasts as had
escaped the recent promiscuous slaughter. Birds, indeed,
that had migrated in search of warmer shores, had
returned, proving that this fragment of the French colony
was the only shred of land that could yield them any
sustenance; but their life must necessarily be short. It
was utterly impossible that they could survive the cold
that would soon ensue.
The colony took possession of their new abode with
but few formalities. Every one, however, approved of all
the internal arrangements of Nina's Hive, and were
profuse in their expressions of satisfaction at finding themselves
located in such comfortable quarters. The only
malcontent was Hakkabut; he had no share in the general
enthusiasm, refused even to enter or inspect any of the
galleries, and insisted on remaining on board his tartan.
“He is afraid,” said Ben Zoof, “that he will have to
pay for his lodgings. But wait a bit; we shall see how he
stands the cold out there; the frost, no doubt, will drive
the old fox out of his hole.”
Towards evening the pots were set boiling, and a
bountiful supper, to which all were invited, was spread in
the central hall. The stores of the Dobryna contained
some excellent wine, some of which was broached to do
honour to the occasion. The health of the governour-general
was drunk, as well as the toast “Success to his
council,” to which Ben Zoof was called upon to return
thanks. The entertainment passed off merrily. The
Spaniards were in the best of spirits; one of them played
the guitar, another the castanets, and the rest joined in a
ringing chorus. Ben Zoof contributed the famous Zouave
refrain, well known throughout the French army, but
rarely performed in finer style than by this virtuoso:—

“Misti goth dar dar tire lyre! 
Flic! floc! flac! lirette, lira! 
Far la rira, 
Tour tala rire,
Tour la Ribaud, 
Ricandeau, 
Sans repos, répit, répit repos, ris pot, ripette!
Si vous attrapez men refrain,
Fameux vous êtes.”

The concert was succeeded by a ball, unquestionably
the first that had ever taken place in Gallia. The Russian
sailors exhibited some of their national dances, which
gained considerable applause, even although they followed
upon the marvellous fandangos of the Spaniards. Ben
Zoof, in his turn, danced a pas seul (often performed in the
Elysee Montmartre) with an elegance and vigour that
earned many compliments from Negrete.
It was nine o'clock before the festivities came to an
end, and by that time the company, heated by the high
temperature of the hall, and by their own exertions, felt
the want of a little fresh air. Accordingly the greater
portion of the party, escorted by Ben Zoof, made their
way into one of the adjacent galleries that led to the
shore. Servadac, with the count and lieutenant, did not
follow immediately; but shortly afterwards they proceeded
to join them, when on their way they were startled by loud
cries from those in advance.
Their first impression was that they were cries of
distress, and they were greatly relieved to find that they
were shouts of delight, which the dryness and purity of
the atmosphere caused to re-echo like a volley of musketry.
Reaching the mouth of the gallery, they found the
entire group pointing with eager interest to the sky.
“Well, Ben Zoof,” asked the captain, “what's the
matter now?”
“Oh, your Excellency,” ejaculated the orderly, “look
there! look there! The moon! the moon's come back!”
And, sure enough, what was apparently the moon was
rising above the mists of evening.