《The Mysterious Island 神秘岛》Book 2 Chapter 14（在线收听）

Pencroft, Herbert, and Gideon Spilett remained silent in the midst of the darkness.

Pencroft shouted loudly.

No reply was made.

The sailor then struck a light and set fire to a twig. This lighted for a minute a small room, which appeared perfectly empty. At the back was a rude fireplace, with a few cold cinders, supporting an armful of dry wood. Pencroft threw the blazing twig on it, the wood crackled and gave forth a bright light.

The sailor and his two companions then perceived a disordered bed, of which the damp and yellow coverlets proved that it had not been used for a long time. In the corner of the fireplace were two kettles, covered with rust, and an overthrown pot. A cupboard, with a few moldy sailor's clothes; on the table a tin plate and a Bible, eaten away by damp; in a corner a few tools, a spade, pickaxe, two fowling-pieces, one of which was broken; on a plank, forming a shelf, stood a barrel of powder, still untouched, a barrel of shot, and several boxes of caps, all thickly covered with dust, accumulated, perhaps, by many long years.

"There is no one here," said the reporter.

"No one," replied Pencroft.

"It is a long time since this room has been inhabited," observed Herbert.

"Yes, a very long time!" answered the reporter.

"Mr. Spilett," then said Pencroft, "instead of returning on board, I think that it would be well to pass the night in this hut."

"You are right, Pencroft," answered Gideon Spilett, "and if its owner returns, well! perhaps he will not be sorry to find the place taken possession of."

"He will not return," said the sailor, shaking his head.

"You think that he has quitted the island?" asked the reporter.

"If he had quitted the island he would have taken away his weapons and his tools," replied Pencroft. "You know the value which castaways set on such articles as these the last remains of a wreck. No! no!" repeated the sailor, in a tone of conviction; "no, he has not left the island! If he had escaped in a boat made by himself, he would still less have left these indispensable and necessary articles. No! he is on the island!"

"Living?" asked Herbert.

"Living or dead. But if he is dead, I suppose he has not buried himself, and so we shall at least find his remains!"

It was then agreed that the night should be passed in the deserted dwelling, and a store of wood found in a corner was sufficient to warm it. The door closed, Pencroft, Herbert and Spilett remained there, seated on a bench, talking little but wondering much. They were in a frame of mind to imagine anything or expect anything. They listened eagerly for sounds outside. The door might have opened suddenly, and a man presented himself to them without their being in the least surprised, notwithstanding all that the hut revealed of abandonment, and they had their hands ready to press the hands of this man, this castaway, this unknown friend, for whom friends were waiting.

But no voice was heard, the door did not open. The hours thus passed away.

How long the night appeared to the sailor and his companions! Herbert alone slept for two hours, for at his age sleep is a necessity. They were all three anxious to continue their exploration of the day before, and to search the most secret recesses of the islet! The inferences deduced by Pencroft were perfectly reasonable, and it was nearly certain that, as the hut was deserted, and the tools, utensils, and weapons were still there, the owner had succumbed. It was agreed, therefore, that they should search for his remains, and give them at least Christian burial.

Day dawned; Pencroft and his companions immediately proceeded to survey the dwelling. It had certainly been built in a favorable situation, at the back of a little hill, sheltered by five or six magnificent gum-trees. Before its front and through the trees the axe had prepared a wide clearing, which allowed the view to extend to the sea. Beyond a lawn, surrounded by a wooden fence falling to pieces, was the shore, on the left of which was the mouth of the stream.

The hut had been built of planks, and it was easy to see that these planks had been obtained from the hull or deck of a ship. It was probable that a disabled vessel had been cast on the coast of the island, that one at least of the crew had been saved, and that by means of the wreck this man, having tools at his disposal, had built the dwelling.

And this became still more evident when Gideon Spilett, after having walked around the hut, saw on a plank, probably one of those which had formed the armor of the wrecked vessel, these letters already half effaced:

BR--TAN--A

"Britannia," exclaimed Pencroft, whom the reporter had called; "it is a common name for ships, and I could not say if she was English or American!"

"It matters very little, Pencroft!"

"Very little indeed," answered the sailor, "and we will save the survivor of her crew if he is still living, to whatever country he may belong. But before beginning our search again let us go on board the 'Bonadventure'."

A sort of uneasiness had seized Pencroft upon the subject of his vessel. Should the island be inhabited after all, and should some one have taken possession of her? But he shrugged his shoulders at such an unreasonable supposition. At any rate the sailor was not sorry to go to breakfast on board. The road already trodden was not long, scarcely a mile. They set out on their walk, gazing into the wood and thickets through which goats and pigs fled in hundreds.

Twenty minutes after leaving the hut Pencroft and his companions reached the western coast of the island, and saw the "Bonadventure" held fast by her anchor, which was buried deep in the sand.

Pencroft could not restrain a sigh of satisfaction. After all this vessel was his child, and it is the right of fathers to be often uneasy when there is no occasion for it.

They returned on board, breakfasted, so that it should not be necessary to dine until very late; then the repast being ended, the exploration was continued and conducted with the most minute care. Indeed, it was very probable that the only inhabitant of the island had perished. It was therefore more for the traces of a dead than of a living man that Pencroft and his companions searched. But their searches were vain, and during the half of that day they sought to no purpose among the thickets of trees which covered the islet. There was then scarcely any doubt that, if the castaway was dead, no trace of his body now remained, but that some wild beast had probably devoured it to the last bone.

"We will set off to-morrow at daybreak," said Pencroft to his two companions, as about two o'clock they were resting for a few minutes under the shade of a clump of firs.

"I should think that we might without scruple take the utensils which belonged to the castaway," added Herbert.

"I think so, too," returned Gideon Spilett, "and these arms and tools will make up the stores of Granite House. The supply of powder and shot is also most important."

"Yes," replied Pencroft, "but we must not forget to capture a couple or two of those pigs, of which Lincoln Island is destitute."

"Nor to gather those seeds," added Herbert, "which will give us all the vegetables of the Old and the New Worlds."

"Then perhaps it would be best," said the reporter, "to remain a day longer on Tabor Island, so as to collect all that may be useful to us."

"No, Mr. Spilett," answered Pencroft, "I will ask you to set off to-morrow at daybreak. The wind seems to me to be likely to shift to the west, and after having had a fair wind for coming we shall have a fair wind for going back."

"Then do not let us lose time," said Herbert, rising.

"We won't waste time," returned Pencroft. "You, Herbert, go and gather the seeds, which you know better than we do. While you do that, Mr. Spilett and I will go and have a pig hunt, and even without Top I hope we shall manage to catch a few!"

Herbert accordingly took the path which led towards the cultivated part of the islet, while the sailor and the reporter entered the forest.

Many specimens of the porcine race fled before them, and these animals, which were singularly active, did not appear to be in a humor to allow themselves to be approached.

However, after an hour's chase, the hunters had just managed to get hold of a couple lying in a thicket, when cries were heard resounding from the north part of the island, With the cries were mingled terrible yells, in which there was nothing human.

Pencroft and Gideon Spilett were at once on their feet, and the pigs by this movement began to run away, at the moment when the sailor was getting ready the rope to bind them.

"That's Herbert's voice," said the reporter.

"Run!" exclaimed Pencroft.

And the sailor and Spilett immediately ran at full speed towards the spot from whence the cries proceeded.

They did well to hasten, for at a turn of the path near a clearing they saw the lad thrown on the ground and in the grasp of a savage being, apparently a gigantic ape, who was about to do him some great harm.

To rush on this monster, throw him on the ground in his turn, snatch Herbert from him, then bind him securely, was the work of a minute for Pencroft and Gideon Spilett. The sailor was of Herculean strength, the reporter also very powerful, and in spite of the monster's resistance he was firmly tied so that he could not even move.

"You are not hurt, Herbert?" asked Spilett.

"No, no!"

"Oh, if this ape had wounded him!" exclaimed Pencroft.

"But he is not an ape," answered Herbert.

At these words Pencroft and Gideon Spilett looked at the singular being who lay on the ground. Indeed it was not an ape; it was a human being, a man. But what a man! A savage in all the horrible acceptation of the word, and so much the more frightful that he seemed fallen to the lowest degree of brutishness!

Shaggy hair, untrimmed beard descending to the chest, the body almost naked except a rag round the waist, wild eyes, enormous hands with immensely long nails, skin the color of mahogany, feet as hard as if made of horn, such was the miserable creature who yet had a claim to be called a man. But it might justly be asked if there were yet a soul in this body, or if the brute instinct alone survived in it!

"Are you quite sure that this is a man, or that he has ever been one?" said Pencroft to the reporter.

"Alas! there is no doubt about it," replied Spilett.

"Then this must be the castaway?" asked Herbert.

"Yes," replied Gideon Spilett, "but the unfortunate man has no longer anything human about him!"

The reporter spoke the truth. It was evident that if the castaway had ever been a civilized being, solitude had made him a savage, or worse, perhaps a regular man of the woods. Hoarse sounds issued from his throat between his teeth, which were sharp as the teeth of a wild beast made to tear raw flesh.

Memory must have deserted him long before, and for a long time also he had forgotten how to use his gun and tools, and he no longer knew how to make a fire! It could be seen that he was active and powerful, but the physical qualities had been developed in him to the injury of the moral qualities. Gideon Spilett spoke to him. He did not appear to understand or even to hear. And yet on looking into his eyes, the reporter thought he could see that all reason was not extinguished in him. However, the prisoner did not struggle, nor even attempt to break his bonds. Was he overwhelmed by the presence of men whose fellow he had once been? Had he found in some corner of his brain a fleeting remembrance which recalled him to humanity? If free, would he attempt to fly, or would he remain? They could not tell, but they did not make the experiment; and after gazing attentively at the miserable creature,--

"Whoever he may be," remarked Gideon Spilett, "whoever he may have been, and whatever he may become, it is our duty to take him with us to Lincoln Island."

"Yes, yes!" replied Herbert, "and perhaps with care we may arouse in him same gleam of intelligence."

"The soul does not die," said the reporter, "and it would be a great satisfaction to rescue one of God's creatures from brutishness."

Pencroft shook his head doubtfully.

"We must try at any rate," returned the reporter; "humanity commands us."

It was indeed their duty as Christians and civilized beings. All three felt this, and they well knew that Cyrus Harding would approve of their acting thus.

"Shall we leave him bound?" asked the sailor.

"Perhaps he would walk if his feet were unfastened," said Herbert.

"Let us try," replied Pencroft.

The cords which shackled the prisoner's feet were cut off, but his arms remained securely fastened. He got up by himself and did not manifest any desire to run away. His hard eyes darted a piercing glance at the three men, who walked near him, but nothing denoted that he recollected being their fellow, or at least having been so. A continual hissing sound issued from his lips, his aspect was wild, but he did not attempt to resist.

By the reporter's advice the unfortunate man was taken to the hut. Perhaps the sight of the things that belonged to him would make some impression on him! Perhaps a spark would be sufficient to revive his obscured intellect, to rekindle his dulled soul. The dwelling was not far off. In a few minutes they arrived there, but the prisoner remembered nothing, and it appeared that he had lost consciousness of everything.

What could they think of the degree of brutishness into which this miserable being had fallen, unless that his imprisonment on the islet dated from a very distant period and after having arrived there a rational being solitude had reduced him to this condition.

The reporter then thought that perhaps the sight of fire would have some effect on him, and in a moment one of those beautiful flames, that attract even animals, blazed up on the hearth. The sight of the flame seemed at first to fix the attention of the unhappy object, but soon he turned away and the look of intelligence faded. Evidently there was nothing to be done, for the time at least, but to take him on board the "Bonadventure." This was done, and he remained there in Pencroft's charge.

Herbert and Spilett returned to finish their work; and some hours after they came back to the shore, carrying the utensils and guns, a store of vegetables, of seeds, some game, and two couple of pigs.

All was embarked, and the "Bonadventure" was ready to weigh anchor and sail with the morning tide.

The prisoner had been placed in the fore-cabin, where he remained quiet, silent, apparently deaf and dumb.

Pencroft offered him something to eat, but he pushed away the cooked meat that was presented to him and which doubtless did not suit him. But on the sailor showing him one of the ducks which Herbert had killed, he pounced on it like a wild beast, and devoured it greedily.

"You think that he will recover his senses?" asked Pencroft. "It is not impossible that our care will have an effect upon him, for it is solitude that has made him what he is, and from this time forward he will be no longer alone."

"The poor man must no doubt have been in this state for a long time," said Herbert.

"Perhaps," answered Gideon Spilett.

"About what age is he?" asked the lad.

"It is difficult to say," replied the reporter, "for it is impossible to see his features under the thick beard which covers his face, but he is no longer young, and I suppose he might be about fifty."

"Have you noticed, Mr. Spilett, how deeply sunk his eyes are?" asked Herbert.

"Yes, Herbert, but I must add that they are more human than one could expect from his appearance."

"However, we shall see," replied Pencroft, "and I am anxious to know what opinion Captain Harding will have of our savage. We went to look for a human creature, and we are bringing back a monster! After all, we did what we could."

The night passed, and whether the prisoner slept or not could not be known, but at any rate, although he had been unbound, he did not move. He was like a wild animal, which appears stunned at first by its capture, and becomes wild again afterwards.

At daybreak the next morning, the 15th of October, the change of weather predicted by Pencroft occurred. The wind having shifted to the northwest favored the return of the "Bonadventure," but at the same time it freshened, which might render navigation more difficult.

At five o'clock in the morning the anchor was weighed. Pencroft took a reef in the mainsail, and steered towards the north-east, so as to sail straight for Lincoln Island.

The first day of the voyage was not marked by any incident. The prisoner remained quiet in the fore-cabin, and as he had been a sailor it appeared that the motion of the vessel might produce on him a salutary reaction. Did some recollection of his former calling return to him? However that might be, he remained tranquil, astonished rather than depressed.

The next day the wind increased, blowing more from the north, consequently in a less favorable direction for the "Bonadventure." Pencroft was soon obliged to sail close-hauled, and without saying anything about it he began to be uneasy at the state of the sea, which frequently broke over the bows. Certainly, if the wind did not moderate, it would take a longer time to reach Lincoln Island than it had taken to make Tabor Island.

Indeed, on the morning of the 17th, the "Bonadventure" had been forty- eight hours at sea, and nothing showed that she was near the island. It was impossible, besides, to estimate the distance traversed, or to trust to the reckoning for the direction, as the speed had been very irregular.

Twenty-four hours after there was yet no land in sight. The wind was right ahead and the sea very heavy. The sails were close-reefed, and they tacked frequently. On the 18th, a wave swept completely over the "Bonadventure"; and if the crew had not taken the precaution of lashing themselves to the deck, they would have been carried away.

On this occasion Pencroft and his companions, who were occupied with loosing themselves, received unexpected aid from the prisoner, who emerged from the hatchway as if his sailor's instinct had suddenly returned, broke a piece out of the bulwarks with a spar so as to let the water which filled the deck escape. Then the vessel being clear, he descended to his cabin without having uttered a word. Pencroft, Gideon Spilett, and Herbert, greatly astonished, let him proceed.

Their situation was truly serious, and the sailor had reason to fear that he was lost on the wide sea without any possibility of recovering his course.

The night was dark and cold. However, about eleven o'clock, the wind fell, the sea went down, and the speed of the vessel, as she labored less, greatly increased.

Neither Pencroft, Spilett, nor Herbert thought of taking an hour's sleep. They kept a sharp look-out, for either Lincoln Island could not be far distant and would be sighted at daybreak, or the "Bonadventure," carried away by currents, had drifted so much that it would be impossible to rectify her course. Pencroft, uneasy to the last degree, yet did not despair, for he had a gallant heart, and grasping the tiller he anxiously endeavored to pierce the darkness which surrounded them.

About two o'clock in the morning he started forward,--

"A light! a light!" he shouted.

Indeed, a bright light appeared twenty miles to the northeast. Lincoln Island was there, and this fire, evidently lighted by Cyrus Harding, showed them the course to be followed. Pencroft, who was bearing too much to the north, altered his course and steered towards the fire, which burned brightly above the horizon like a star of the first magnitude.

潘克洛夫、赫伯特和吉丁·史佩莱，在黑暗里静悄悄地站着。

潘克洛夫大喊了几声。

没有回答。

水手点着了一根小树枝。一会儿，树枝照亮了这个小房间，看来屋里完全是空的。房间的后面是一个粗陋的壁炉，炉里有一些残灰，上面放着一抱干柴，潘克洛夫把燃烧的树枝扔上去，木柴就噼噼啪啪地燃烧起来了。

这时，水手和他的两个伙伴才发现房里有一张零乱的床铺，潮湿、发黄的被单可以说明很久没有使用了。壁炉的一角放着两把已经生锈的水壶和一只复着的铁锅。碗柜里放着几件水手的衣服，都已经生了霉；桌上有一个锡饭具，还有一本《圣经》，已经受潮腐蚀了；墙角里有几件工具，有一把铲子、一把鹤嘴锄和两支猎枪，一支猎枪已经损坏，在一个用木板做的架子上，放着一桶还没有动用过的火药、一桶枪弹和几匣雷管，所有这些东西都蒙着厚厚的、大概是经年累积起来的尘土。

“这里没有人。”通讯记者说。

“没有人。”潘克洛夫答道。

“这间房里很久没有住人了。”赫伯特说。

“是的，很久了！”通讯记者答道。

“史佩莱先生，”潘克洛夫接着说，“我想我们不必回船去了，就在这房子里过夜倒不错。”

“你说得对，潘克洛夫，”吉丁·史佩莱说，“即使屋主回来，嘿！他大概也不会反对有人占用他的屋子的。”

“他不会回来的。”水手摇头说道。

“你认为他已经离开这个岛了吗？”通讯记者问道。

“如果他离开海岛，一定会把他的武器和工具带走的，”潘克洛夫回答说。“这些是难船上唯一遗留下来的东西，你不知道遇难的人是多么重视这些东西的吗？不！不会的！”水手肯定地重复道，“不，他没有离开海岛！如果他自己造了一只船，离开这里，他更不会留下这些一时也不能少的必需品了。不！他还在岛上！”

“还活着吗？”赫伯特问道。

“也许死了，也许还活着。可是如果他死了，我想他是不会自己埋自己的，我们至少可以找到他的尸体！”

于是他们决定在这已经没有人了的住所里过夜，墙角那堆木柴足够维持室内的温暖。关上门以后，潘克洛夫、赫伯特和史佩莱就在凳子上坐了下来，他们话谈得很少，然而想得却很多。他们幻想着各种各样事情，也等待着这些事情出现。他们急切地想听到外面的响动。可能突然有人推门进来，在他们的面前一站；虽然这所房屋完全象是被遗弃了似的，但是如果有上述的情况发生，他们还是丝毫也不会感到惊讶：他们随时准备和这个陌生的遇难友人握手，这群友人正在等待着他。

但是，没有人声，门也没有打开。时间就这样过去了。

这一夜对水手和他的伙伴们说来，是多么长啊！只有赫伯特睡了两个钟头，因为他的年龄，正是需要睡眠的时候，他们三个人都急着想继续昨天的探险，急着要搜索小岛上最隐蔽的角落！潘克洛夫的推论是完全合理的，由于房屋被遗弃，而工具、器皿和武器却还留在这里，因此几乎可以肯定，房主人已经死了。于是大家同意去找他的尸体，至少要给他举行基督教徒的丧葬仪式。

天亮了，潘克洛夫和他的伙伴们立刻开始查看这所屋子。这所房屋盖在一个非常适宜的地方，它在一座小山的背后，有五六棵美丽的橡胶树覆盖着它。房屋的前面是树林，中间有一块用斧头开辟出来的宽敞的空地，因此从房屋里可以一直望见大海。这片空地是一小片空地，四面围着一排东倒西歪的木栅栏，空地一直延伸到海边，海岸的左边就是河口。

房屋是用木板盖的，一看就知道，这些木板原来是一只船的船壳和甲板。大概这只破船漂流到小岛的海岸上，至少有一个水手逃出性命，他就用手头的工具，利用难船的残骸盖成这所房屋。

吉丁·史佩莱进一步证实了这个假定：他在屋子里来回踱了一会，在一块木板上看见几个已经模糊不清的字迹，这块木板大概原来是难船的外壳：上面写着：

“不……颠……”

“不列颠尼亚，”潘克洛夫被通讯记者叫来以后一看，喊道；“这一般是船的名字，不过我没法肯定它是英国船还是美国船！”

“这倒没有什么关系，潘克洛夫！”

“不错，”水手说；“如果船上脱险的水手还活着，不管他是哪一国人，我们都要救他。可是在重新搜查以前，我们还是先回乘风破浪号去一趟。”

潘克洛夫下意识地对他的船放心不下。也许岛上真的有人，也许有人占了……可是他又想到这种假定一点根据也没有，就耸了耸肩。不管怎么样，水手还是愿意回船去吃早饭的。这一段已经走过的路并不远，几乎还不到一英里。他们一面走，一面察看丛林深处，只见上百只的山羊和猪在里面奔窜。

离开房屋二十分钟以后，潘克洛夫和他的伙伴来到了小岛的东岸，只见乘风破浪号还好好地停在那儿，船锚深深地陷在沙滩里。

潘克洛夫不禁松了一口气。这只船可以算得是他的孩子，而闲来挂念子女则是父亲的权利。

他们回到船上，吃了早饭，吃得足以支持到很晚再吃中饭；吃完以后，他们就继续探险，这次搜查得非常仔细。的确，岛上唯一的居民很可能已经死了。因此，潘克洛夫和他的伙伴们主要是找死人而不是找活人的踪迹。然而搜查的结果还是徒劳无功，这一天上午，他们在覆盖小岛的密林里什么也没有找到。现在几乎已经可以肯定，如果说遇难的人已经死了，却又找不到他的残骸，那么，多半是由于野兽把它连骨头都吃光了。

“明天早上天一亮我们就动身，”潘克洛夫对他的两个伙伴说，这时候大约两点钟，他们正在一丛枞树的浓荫下，作几分钟的休息。

“我觉得我们可以把遇难人的器皿拿回去，这也不算亏心。”赫伯特补充道。

“我也同意，”吉丁·史佩莱说；“这些武器和工具可以把‘花岗石宫’的仓库充实起来。补充枪弹和火药也是非常重要的。”

“是的，”潘克洛夫说；“可是我们不要忘记，还要捉一两对猪，这是林肯岛所没有的……”

“也不要忘记搜集种籽，”赫伯特补充道，“它可以使我们得到新旧大陆的各种蔬菜。”

“那么我们最好还是在达抱岛上多呆一天，”通讯记者说，“这样就可以把对我们有用的东西搜集齐了。”

“不，史佩莱先生，”潘克洛夫说，“我还是主张明天一早就动身。我觉得风向很可能转往西面；我们来的时候一帆风顺，回去的时候最好还是一帆风顺。”

“那么就不要浪费时间吧。”赫伯特站起身来说。

“我们不会浪费时间的，”潘克洛夫说。“赫伯特，你去搜集种籽，因为你比我们内行，你搜集种籽的时候，史佩莱先生和我去猎猪，虽然没有托普，我想我们还是可以想法子捉住几只的！”

于是赫伯特就一直向小岛上生长着农作物的地方走去，水手和通讯记者进入了丛林。

许多种和猪差不多的动物在他们前面奔逃，动作非常灵活，似乎很难接近它们。

追赶了半个钟头，猎人们终于把躺在密林里的一对猪抓住了，可是正在这时候，他们突然听见海岛北部约莫百米光景的地方传来一阵呼喊声。喊声里还夹杂着可怕的尖叫，听起来简直不象是从人的嗓子里发出来的。

潘克洛夫和吉丁·史佩莱拔脚就跑，水手原来已经准备好绳子捆猪，这时候也让它们乘机逃脱了。

“是赫伯特的声音。”通讯记者说。

“快跑！”潘克洛夫喊道。

水手和史佩莱急忙向发出喊声的地方拼命跑去。

幸亏他们跑得快，一转弯，他们就看见少年被一个野人按倒在一块空地上。这个野人看起来象是一只巨大的人猿，正打算伤害赫伯特。

说时迟，那时快；潘克洛夫和吉丁·史佩莱马上向这个怪物扑过去，把他反过来按倒在地上，从他手里救出赫伯特，然后把他牢牢地绑起来。水手是个天生的大力士，吉丁·史佩莱也是一条壮汉，怪物挣扎了一会儿，到底被紧紧地缚住，动弹不得了。

“你受伤了吗，赫伯特？”史佩莱问道。

“没有，没有！”

“啊，要是让人猿把他伤害了，那就……！”潘克洛夫叫道。

“他不是人猿呀。”赫伯特说。

潘克洛夫和吉丁·史佩莱听了以后，看了一下躺在地上的怪物。果然，他不是人猿，而是一个人。可是这个人的样子多么凶恶呀！这是一个可怕得难以形容的野人，尤其令人毛发悚然的是，他似乎已经残暴到完全丧失人性了！

乱蓬蓬的头发，一直垂到胸前的胡须，赤身裸体，仅仅在腰间围了一块破布，野性未驯的眼睛，一双指甲极长的大手，颜色和红木一般的皮肤，硬得和牛角似的双脚——这就是这个怪东西的形象，然而他毕竟还得叫做人。可是人们不妨这样问：在他的躯体内，究竟是人类的心灵，还是动物的兽性？

“你能肯定这是个人，或者曾经是个人吗？”潘克洛夫对通讯记者说。

“嗨！这是没有问题的，”史佩菜答道。

“那么，他一定就是遇难的人了？”赫伯特问道。

“是的，”吉丁·史佩莱说，“可是这个不幸的人已经完全丧失人性了！”

通讯记者说得对。即使这个遇难的人曾经是文明人，肯定他说，孤独的生活也已经使他变成一个野人，更糟的是，也许使他变成一个人猿。他紧咬着牙，喉咙里发出沙哑的声音，牙齿非常锐利，和野兽用来吃生肉的利齿一样。

他一定早就丧失了记忆，很久以来，他已忘记了怎样使用枪械和工具，连火也不会生了！看得出来他非常灵活敏捷，然而体力发达却引起智力退化。吉丁·史佩莱和他说了几句话。他好象不懂，甚至好象根本没有听。然而通讯记者从他的眼睛里看得出来，他似乎并没有完全丧失理智。俘虏不挣扎，也不想摆脱自己的束缚。他过去也曾是人类的一分子，现在看见人，是不是感情过于激动了呢？是不是他的脑海里突然闪过一些记忆，重新恢复了人性呢？如果让他自由，他会不会逃跑，还要留在这里呢？这说不定，他们也没有试一试，吉丁·史佩莱向他打量了很久，然后说：

“不管他现在是什么，过去是什么，将来会成为什么，我们都有责任把他带回林肯岛去。”

“对，对！”赫伯特说；“我们小心照料他，也许能启发他恢复一线智慧之光的。”

“灵魂是不会死的，”通讯记者说；“如果能把一个人从愚昧中拯救出来，这才是一件值得高兴的事。”

潘克洛夫怀疑地摇了摇头。

“总之，我们一定要试试看，”通讯记者说；“人道要求我们这样做。”

的确，作为基督徒和文明人，这是他们的责任。他们三个人全知道这一点，而且他们深信赛勒斯·史密斯也一定会同意这种做法。

“就让他老绑着吗？”水手问道。

“如果放松他的脚，他也许能走的。”赫伯特说。

“我们试试看。”潘克洛夫说。

他们割断了俘虏脚上的绳子，然而还是牢牢地绑着他的两手。他自己站起身来，没有要逃跑的意思。他们走到他身边去，那双冷酷的眼睛狠狠地看了一下这三个人；然而他好象丝毫也不记得自己和他们是同类，或者至少曾经是同类。他的唇边不时发出咝咝的声音，他的外貌非常野蛮，但是他并没有打算反抗。

在通讯记者的建议下，把这个不幸的人带到小屋里去。也许看见自己的东西，他会有所感悟的！也许星星之火可以照亮他那陷于混沌的智慧，可以使他麻木了的灵魂重新活跃起来。房屋并不远。几分钟以后，他们就走到了，然而俘虏什么也不记得，似乎对任何东西都失去感觉了。

这个可怜的人初来的时候也许还有理性，大概是经过在小岛上长期困守，孤独才把他变成现在这样的；除此以外，他们再也没法想象他怎么会退化到这么野蛮的程度了。

通讯记者又想到，让他看看火光，也许会产生一些效果。片刻以后，炉膛里就燃起了一堆熊熊的烈火，这种美丽的火焰，往往连野兽也会被吸引过来。起初，炉火似乎引起了这个不幸的人的注意，可是他随即转过身去，眼睛里智慧的光芒也消失了。显然，目前没有别的办法可想，只有把他带到乘风破浪号上去。他们就这么办了，潘克洛夫留在船上看管他。

赫伯特和史佩莱又到岸上去继续做他们没有做完的工作；过了几个钟头，他们回到海边，带来了器皿、枪枝，大量的蔬菜和种籽，不少野味和两对猪。

大家都上了船，只等早上涨潮，乘风破浪号就要起锚开船了。

俘虏被放在前仓，他一言不发地呆在那里，非常安静，象个聋子或是哑巴似的。

潘克洛夫递了一些熟肉给他吃，被他一手推开了，毫无疑问，这些东西不合乎他的胃口。可是他一看见潘克洛夫在他面前拿出一只鸭子——那是赫伯特打来的——就象野兽似的抓过去，狼吞虎咽地把它吃下去了。

“你认为他会恢复理智吗？”潘克洛夫摇着头问道。

“可能，”通讯记者回答说，“只要我们小心看护，也许会产生一些效果的；孤独把他变成现在这个样子，从现在起，他就不再孤独了。”

“这个可怜的人这种样子一定已经很久了。”赫伯特说。

“也许。”吉丁·史佩莱说。

“他大概有多大年纪？”少年问道。

“很难说，”通讯记者说，“他满脸都是浓胡子，看不清他的真面貌！可是他的年纪已经不轻了，我想他可能有五十岁左右。”

“你注意到没有？史佩莱先生，他的眼睛陷得多么深啊！”赫伯特说。

“是的，赫伯特；可是我要补充一句，和他的外表比起来，他的眼睛还显得有些人性。”

“不论怎么样，我们等着瞧吧，”潘克洛夫说，“我倒很想知道史密斯先生对我们这位野人的看法。我们来找的是人，带回去的却是一个妖怪！不过我们总算尽了自己的力量了。”

这一夜过去了，他们都不知道俘虏睡觉没有，可是，虽然解除了他的束缚，他并没有动。他好象野兽那样，被捉住的时候，最初有些发楞，过些时野性又发作起来了。

第二天是10月15日，正象潘克洛夫预言的那样，早上天一亮，天气就起了变化。风向转往西北，这对乘风破浪号的归航是有利的，可是同时天气也愈来愈冷，这给航行却增加许多困难。

清晨五点钟起锚。潘克洛夫收缩了主帆，朝着东北，直向林肯岛驶去。

第一天，航行中没有发生任何事故。俘虏安静地呆在前仓；他曾经是个水手，也许船身的颠簸会引起他良好的反应。他回忆起过去的职业来了吗？然而他始终是安安静静地呆在那里，看样子他不感觉郁闷，只是有些惊讶。

第二天风势更强，北风愈来愈大，结果使乘风破浪号掌握不住正确方向。不久以后，潘克洛夫只好抢风而行，海浪一再地打到船头上来，他虽然一句话也没有说，但是对海里的情况却感到有些不安。如果风势不缓和下来，肯定地说，回林肯岛的时间就要比到达抱岛来的时间长了。

果然，乘风破浪号在海里航行了两天两夜，到17日的清晨，还是看不见林肯岛的影子。由于航行的速度时快时慢，因此，既不可能估计出已经走了多远，又不可能知道准确的方向。

又过了二十四小时，还是看不见陆地。狂风迎面刮来，海上波涛汹涌。船上的帆篷紧缩着，他们不时地变换方向。18日那天，一个大浪整个地冲着乘风破浪号盖下来，要不是水手们预先把自己绑在甲板上，他们就要被海浪卷走了。

潘克洛夫和他的伙伴们正在忙着解脱自己身上的束缚，出乎意外地，这时候俘虏竟来帮助他们，他似乎突然恢复了水手的本能，从仓口里跑出来，用一根圆材打穿了一块舷壁，使甲板上的水往外流去。等船里的水流完以后，他又不言不语地走下自己的仓去。潘克洛夫、吉丁·史佩莱和赫伯特非常惊讶地看着他进行工作。

他们的处境的确是严重的，水手非常担忧，而且这种担忧并不是毫无理由，他们深怕已经在大海中迷失了方向，再也不可能找到原路了。

夜晚非常昏暗和寒冷。直到十一点钟的时候，风势才减弱，大海也平静了；由于船身不再那样颠簸，速度大大地加快了。

潘克洛夫、史佩莱和赫伯特都不想睡。他们小心翼翼地守望着。摆在他们面前的有两种可能，不是离林肯岛不远，破晓的时候可以看见它，就是乘风破浪号被海流冲到极远的地方，再也回不到正确的航线上去了。潘克洛夫的性情向来是乐观的，这时他虽然心里很烦躁，却并没有失望；他紧紧握着舵柄，恨不得一下子穿透周围的黑暗。

早上两点钟的时候，他忽然往前跳起来，大声喊道：

“光！光！”

果然，在东北二十海里以外的地方，有一点亮光，林肯岛就在那里，显然这是赛勒斯·史密斯燃起的野火，给他们指点着航行的方向。潘克洛夫的航线过于偏北了，于是他掉过头来，直向有光的地方驶去。火光在水平线上燃烧，象一颗一等星以的，明亮地照耀着。