《Around the World In 80 Days》 CHAPTER21
by Jules Verne
This voyage of eight hundred miles was a perilous venture, on a craft
of twenty tons, and at that season of the year. The Chinese seas are
usually boisterous, subject to terrible gales of wind, and especially
during the equinoxes; and it was now early November.
It would clearly have been to the master's advantage to carry his passengers
to Yokohama, since he was paid a certain sum per day; but he would have
been rash to attempt such a voyage, and it was imprudent even to attempt
to reach Shanghai. But John Bunsby believed in the `Tankadere', which
rode on the waves like a seagull; and perhaps he was not wrong.
Late in the day they passed through the capricious channels of Hong
Kong, and the `Tankadere', impelled by favourable winds, conducted herself
admirably.
`I do not need, pilot,' said Phileas Fogg, when they got into the open
sea, `to advise you to use all possible speed.'
`Trust me, your honour. We are carrying all the sail the wind will
let us. The poles would add nothing, and are only used when we are going
into port.'
`It's your trade, not mine, pilot, and I confide in you.'
Phileas Fogg, with body erect and legs wide apart, standing like a
sailor, gazed without staggering at the swelling waters. The young woman,
who was seated aft, was profoundly affected as she looked out upon the
ocean, darkening now with the twilight, on which she had ventured in
so frail a vessel. Above her head rustled the white sails, which seemed
like great white wings. The boat, carried forward by the wind, seemed
to be flying in the air.
Night came. The moon was entering her first quarter, and her insufficient
light would soon die out in the mist on the horizon. Clouds were rising
from the east, and already overcast a part of the heavens.
The pilot had hung out his lights, which was very necessary in these
seas crowded with vessels bound landward; for collisions are not uncommon
occurrences, and, at the speed she was going the least shock would shatter
the gallant little craft.
Fix, seated in the bow, gave himself up to meditation. He kept apart
from his fellow-travellers, knowing Mr Fogg's taciturn tastes; besides,
he did not quite like to talk to the man whose favours he had accepted.
He was thinking, too, of the future. It seemed certain Fogg would not
stop at Yokohama, but would at once take the boat for San Francisco;
and the vast extent of America would insure him impunity and safety.
Fogg's plan appeared to him the simplest in the world. Instead of sailing
directly from England to the United States, like a common villain, he
had traversed three quarters of the globe, so as to gain the American
continent more surely; and there, after throwing the police off his
track, he would quietly enjoy himself with the fortune stolen from the
bank. But, once in the United States, what should he, Fix, do? Should
he abandon this man? No, a hundred times no! Until he had secured his
extradition, he would not lose sight of him for an hour. It was his
duty, and he would fulfil it to the end. At all events, there was one
thing to be thankful for; Passepartout was not with his master; and
it was above all important, after the confidences Fix had imparted to
him, that the servant should never have speech with his master.
Phileas Fogg was also thinking of Passepartout, who had so strangely
disappeared. Looking at the matter from every point of view, it did
not seem to him impossible that, by some mistake, the man might have
embarked on the `Carnatic' at the last moment; and this was also Aouda's
opinion, who regretted very much the loss of the worthy fellow to whom
she owed so much. They might then find him at Yokohama; for if the `Carnatic'
was carrying him thither, it would be easy to ascertain if he had been
on board.
A brisk breeze arose about ten o'clock; but, though it might have been
prudeno take in a reef, the pilot, after carefully examining the heavens,
let the craft remain rigged as before. The `Tankadere' bore sail admirably
as she drew a great deal of water, and everything was prepared for high
speed in case of a gale.
Mr Fogg and Aouda descended into the cabin at midnight, having been
already preceded by Fix, who had lain down on one of the cots. The pilot
and crew remained on deck all night.
At sunrise the next day, which was November 8th, the boat had made
more than one hundred miles.
The log indicated a mean speed of between eight and nine miles. The
`Tankadere' still carried all sail, and was accomplishing her greatest
capacity of speed. If the wind held as it was, the chances would be
in her favour. During the day she kept along the coast, where the currents
were favourable; the coast, irregular in profile, and visible sometimes
across the clearings, was at most five miles distant. The sea was less
boisterous, since the wind came off land - a fortunate circumstance
for the boat, which would suffer, owing to its small tonnage, by a heavy
surge on the sea.
The breeze subsided a little towards noon, and set in from the south-west.
The pilot put up his poles, but took them down again within two hours,
as the wind freshened up anew.
Mr Fogg and Aouda, happily unaffected by the roughness of the sea,
ate with good appetite, Fix being invited to share their repast, which
he accepted with secret chagrin. To travel at this man's expense and
live upon his provisions was not palatable to him. Still, he was obliged
to eat, and so he ate.
When the meal was over, he took Mr Fogg apart, and said, `Sir,' - this
`sir' scorched his lips, and he had to control himself to avoid collaring
this `gentleman' - `sir, you have been very kind to give me a passage
on this boat. But, though my means will not admit of my expending them
as freely as you, I must ask to pay my share--'
`Let us not speak of that, sir,' replied Mr Fogg.
`But, if I insist--'
`No, sir,' repeated Mr Fogg, in a tone which did not admit of a reply.
`This enters into my general expenses.'
Fix, as he bowed, had a stifled feeling, and going forward, where he
ensconced himself, did not open his mouth for the rest of the day.
Meanwhile they were progressing famously, and John Bunsby was in high
hope. He several times assured Mr Fogg that they would reach Shanghai
in time; to which that gentleman responded that he counted upon it.
The crew set to work in good earnest, inspired by the reward to be gained.
There was not a sheet which was not tightened, not a sail which was
not vigorously hoisted; not a lurch could be charged to the man at the
helm. They worked as desperately as if they were contesting in a Royal
Yacht regatta.
By evening, the log showed that two hundred and twenty miles had been
accomplished from Hong Kong, and Mr Fogg might hope that he would be
able to reach Yokohama without recording any delay in his journal; in
which case, the only misadventure which had overtaken him since he left
London would not seriously affect his journey.
The `Tankadere' entered the Straits of Fo-Kien, which separate the
island of Formosa from the Chinese coast, in the small hours of the
night, and crossed the Tropic of Cancer. The sea was very rough in the
straits, full of eddies formed by the counter currents, and the chopping
waves broke her course, whilst it became very difficult to stand on
deck.
At daybreak the wind began to blow hard again, and the heavens seemed
to predict a gale. The barometer announced a speedy change, the mercury
rising and falling capriciously; the sea also, in the south-east, raised
long surges which indicated a tempest. The sun had set the evening before
in a red mist, in the midst of the phosphorescent scintillations of
the ocean.
John Bunsby long examined the threatening aspect of the heavens, muttering
indistinctly between his teeth. At last he said in a low voice to Mr
Fogg. `Shall I speak out to your honour?'
`Of course.'
`Well, we are going to have a squall.'
`Is the wind north or south?' asked Mr Fogg quietly.
`South. Look! a typhoon is coming up.'
`Glad it's a typhoon from the south, for it will carry us forward.'
`Oh, if you take it that way,' said John Bunsby, `I've nothing more
to say.' John Bunsby's suspicions were confirmed. At a less advanced
season of the year the typhoon, according to a famous meteorologist,
would have passed away like a luminous cascade of electric flame; but
in the winter equinox, it was to be feared that it would burst upon
them with great violence.
The pilot took his precautions in advance. He reefed all sail, the
pole-masts were dispensed with; all hands went forward to the bows.
A single triangular sail, of strong canvas, was hoisted as a storm-jib,
so as to hold the wind from behind. Then they waited.
John Bunsby had requested his passengers to go below; but this imprisonment
in so narrow a space, with little air, and the boat bouncing in the
gale, was far from pleasant. Neither Mr Fogg, Fix, nor Aouda consented
to leave the deck.
The storm of rain and wind descended upon them towards eight o'clock.
With but its bit of sail, the `Tankadere' was lifted like a feather
by a wind, an idea of whose violence can scarcely be given. To compare
her speed to four times that of a locomotive going on full steam would
be below the truth.
The boat scudded thus northward during the whole day, borne on by monstrous
waves, preserving always, fortunately, a speed equal to theirs. Twenty
times she seemed almost to be submerged by these mountains of water
which rose behind her; but the adroit management of the pilot saved
her. The passengers were often bathed in spray, but they submitted to
it philosophically. Fix cursed it, no doubt; but Aouda, with her eyes
fastened upon her protector, whose coolness amazed her, showed her-self
worthy of h~, and bravely weathered the storm. As for Phileas Fogg,
it seemed just as if the typhoon were a part of his programme.
Up to this time the `Tankadere' had always held her course to the north;
but towards evening the wind, veering three quarters, bore down from
the north-west. The boat, now lying in the trough of the waves, shook
and rolled terribly; the sea struck her with fearful violence. At night
the tempest increased in violence. John Bunsby saw the approach of darkness
and the rising of the storm with dark misgivings. He thought awhile,
and then asked his crew if it was not time to slacken speed. After a
consultation he approached Mr Fogg, and said, `I think your honour,
that we should do well to make for one of the ports on the coast.'
`I think so too.'
`Ah!' said the pilot. `But which one?'
`I know of but one,' returned Mr Fogg tranquilly.
`And that is--
`Shanghai.'
The pilot, at first, did not seem to comprehend; he could scarcely
realize so much determination and tenacity. Then he cried, `Well - yes!
Your honour is right. To Shanghai!'
So the `Tankadere' kept steadily on her northward track.
The night was really terrible; it would be a miracle if the craft did
not founder. Twice it would have been all over with her if the crew
had not been constantly on the watch. Aouda was exhausted, but did not
utter a complaint. More than once Mr Fogg rushed to protect her from
the violence of the waves.
Day reappeared. The tempest still raged with undiminished fury; but
the wind now returned to the south-east. It was a favourable change,
and the `Tankadere' again bounded forward on this mountainous sea, though
the waves crossed each other, and imparted shocks and counter-shocks
which would have crushed a craft less solidly built. From time to time
the coast was visible through the broken mist, but no vessel was in
sight. The `Tankadere' was alone upon the sea.
There were some signs of a calm at noon, and these became more distinct
as the sun descended toward the horizon. The tempest had been as brief
as terrific. The passengers, thoroughly exhausted, could now eat a little,
and take some repose.
The night was comparatively quiet. Some of the sails were again hoisted,
and the speed of the boat was very good. The next morning at dawn they
espied the coast, and John Bunsby was able to assert that they were
not one hundred miles from Shanghai. A hundred miles, and only one day
to traverse them!
That very evening Mr Fogg was due at Shanghai, if he did not wish to
miss the steamer to Yokohama. Had there been no storm, during which
several hours were lost, they would be at this moment within thirty
miles of their destination.
The wind grew decidedly calmer, and happily the sea fell with it. All
sails were now hoisted, and at noon the `Tankadere' was within forty-five
miles of Shanghai. There remained yet six hours in which to accomplish
that distance. All on board feared that it could not be done, and every
one - Phileas Fogg, no doubt, excepted - felt his heart beat with impatience.
The boat must keep up an average of nine miles an hour, and the wind
was becoming calmer every moment! It was a capricious breeze, coming
from the coast, and after it passed the sea became smooth. Still, the
`Tankadere' was so light, and her fine sails caught the fickle zephyrs
so well, that, with the aid of the current, John Bunsby found himself
at six o'clock not more than ten miles from the mouth of Shanghai river.
Shanghai itself is situated at least twelve miles up the stream. At
seven they were still three miles from Shanghai. The pilot swore an
angry oath; the reward of two hundred pounds was evidently on the point
of escaping him. He looked at Mr Fogg. Mr Fogg was perfectly tranquil;
and yet his whole fortune was at this moment at stake.
At this moment, also, a long black funnel, crowned with wreaths of
smoke, appeared on the edge of the waters. It was the American steamer,
leaving for Yokohama at the appointed time.
`Confound her!' cried John Bunsby, pushing back the rudder with a desperate
jerk.
`Signal her!' said Phileas Fogg quietly.
A small brass cannon stood on the forward deck of the `Tankadere',
for making signals in the fogs. It was loaded to the muzzle; but just
as the pilot was about to apply a red-hot coal to the touchhole, Mr
Fogg said, `Hoist your flag!'
The flag was run up at halfmast, and, this being the signal of distress,
it was hoped that the American steamer, perceiving it, would change
her course a little, so as to succour the pilot-boat.
`Fire!' said Mr Fogg. And the booming of the little cannon resounded
in the air.
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