The Mysterious Island

By Jules Verne

At a time when Verne is making a comeback in the US as a mainstream literary figure, Wesleyan is pleased to publish a new translation of one of his best-known novels, The Mysterious Island. Although several editions under the same title are in print, most reproduce a bowdlerized nineteenth-century translation which changes the names of the characters, omits several important scenes, and ideologically censors Verne's original text.

The Mysterious Island was published in 1874, and it is one of Verne's longest novels. The plot depicts a group of men who have become castaways stranded on an island in the Pacific during the American Civil War. The novel describes their attempts not only to survive but also, with the aid of the scientific and technological know-how, to rebuild their world from the meager resources of the island. At the end, however, it is realized that Captain Nemo, from Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, has secretly been helping the settlers. A marvelous adventure story, The Mysterious Island is also notable for its modern retelling of the utopian deserted-island myth, with repeated echoes of Robinson Crusoe and the Swiss Family Robinson. This Wesleyan edition features notes, appendices and an introduction by Verne scholar William Butcher, as well as reproductions of the illustrations from the original French edition.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wesleyan University Press
• Release date: Sep 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9780819574565

Jules Verne

Jules Verne (1828-1905) used a combination of scientific facts and his imagination to take readers on extraordinary imaginative journeys to fantastic places. In such books as Around the World in Eighty Days, From the Earth to the Moon, and Journey to the Center of the Earth, he predicted many technological advances of the twentieth century, including the invention of the automobile, telephone, and nuclear submarines, as well as atomic power and travel to the moon by rocket.

Book preview

I THE CASTAWAYS FROM THE SKY

CHAPTER I

"Are we rising again?"

No! On the contrary! We’re going down!

"Worse than that, Mr. Cyrus!¹ We’re falling!"

For God’s sake, throw out the ballast!

There! The last sack is empty!

Is the balloon going up now?²

No!

I hear the splashing of waves!

The sea is under the basket!

It can’t be more than five hundred feet below us!

Then a powerful, booming voice cut through the air:

Throw everything overboard! … Everything! We are in God’s hands!

Those were the words that resounded in the sky over the vast watery desert of the Pacific about four o’clock in the evening of March 23, 1865.

No one can forget the terrible northeast storm that erupted during the equinox of that year. The barometer fell to 710 millimeters. It was a storm that lasted from March 18 to 26 with no letup. It ravaged America, Europe, and Asia over a broad zone of 1800 miles along a line intersecting the equator, from the 35th north parallel to the 40th south parallel. Towns were knocked flat, forests uprooted, and shores devastated by tidal waves. Weather bureaus counted hundreds of ships beached along the coast. Entire territories were leveled by the waterspouts which pulverized everything in their path. Several thousand people were crushed on land or swallowed up by the sea. Such were the marks of fury this horrific storm left in its wake. It surpassed the disasters which had so frightfully ravaged Havana and Guadeloupe, one on October 25, 1810 and the other on July 26, 1825.

At this very moment when so many catastrophes were occurring on land and sea, a drama no less gripping was taking place in the stormy skies.

A balloon, carried like a ball at the top of a waterspout, was traveling through space with a velocity of 90 miles per hour,* turning around as if it had been seized by an aerial whirlpool.

A basket swung back and forth below the balloon with five passengers inside, barely visible in the thick fog.

Where did this plaything of the terrible storm come from? From which point on the earth’s surface did it arise? Evidently it could not have lifted off during the storm which had already lasted for five days, the first symptoms having been felt on the 18th. In the last 24 hours alone, the balloon had traveled more than 2000 miles.

The passengers had no way of knowing where they were because there were no points of reference. It was a curious fact that they had not suffered from the storm’s violence. They were carried along, spinning round and round, without having any sense of this rotation or of their horizontal movement.³ Their eyes could not pierce the thick fog. Everything was obscured. They could not even say if it was day or night. No reflection of light, no noise, no bellowing of the ocean could reach them so long as they remained at higher altitudes.⁴ Their rapid descent alone alerted them to the dangers they faced.

Relieved of heavy objects such as munitions, arms, and provisions, the balloon now rose to a height of 4500 feet. Realizing that the dangers from above were less formidable than those from below, the passengers did not hesitate to throw overboard even the most useful objects as they tried to lose no more of this gas, the soul of their apparatus, which kept them above the abyss.

Night passed with anxieties that would have killed weaker people. From the beginning of March 24, the storm seemed to moderate. At dawn, the clouds rose higher in the sky, and after several hours, the waterspout broke up. The wind, no longer a hurricane, changed to a brisk breeze. It was still what sailors would call a three-reef breeze, but it was nevertheless an improvement.

About eleven o’clock, the atmosphere became noticeably clearer and the air exuded a damp clarity that is seen and even felt after the passage of such strong weather disturbances. It did not appear that the storm had gone farther westward but had simply died out on its own, perhaps dispersed into electric strata after the breakup of its waterspout, as sometimes occurs with the typhoons of the Indian Ocean.

But it was again evident that the balloon was slowly but constantly falling. It was deflating little by little, and its envelope was elongating and distending, changing from a spherical shape to an oval.

About noon, the balloon hovered no more than 2000 feet above the sea. It contained 50,000 cubic feet of gas* and, thanks to this capacity, it had been able to remain in the air for a long time. The passengers now threw overboard the last objects that still weighed them down, several provisions they had kept, everything, even the small knick-knacks in their pockets. Helping each other, they hoisted themselves onto the ring where the ropes were attached, all the while searching for solid ground below.

It was obvious that the passengers could not keep the balloon aloft much longer. Too much gas had escaped.

They were going to die!

There was no continent, not even an island, beneath them—no place to land, no firm surface they could touch down on. There was only an immense ocean whose waves still churned with incomparable violence. It was an ocean without visible limits, even though they could see over a radius of forty miles from their height. It was a liquid plain, battered by the storm without mercy. No land in sight, not even a ship.

They had to keep the balloon, at any price, from dropping into the waves. But, despite their best efforts, the balloon kept falling, sometimes rapidly, while being carried along by the wind from northeast to southwest.

It was a terrible situation for these unfortunate men. They were no longer masters of the balloon. Their efforts had no effect. The envelope of the balloon was stretching more and more. The gas continued to escape, and they could do nothing to keep it in. Their descent was now visibly accelerating and, at one o’clock in the afternoon, the balloon was no more than 600 feet above the ocean.

By throwing out everything in the basket, the passengers were able to keep it in the air for several more hours, but the inevitable catastrophe could not be avoided. If land did not appear before nightfall, the passengers, their basket, and the balloon would no doubt disappear beneath the waves.

They now executed the only maneuver still left to them. These were energetic men who knew how to look death square in the face. Not a single murmur escaped their lips. They would struggle to the last second and do everything they could to delay their fall. The basket was only a wicker box, not intended for floating, and there was no possibility of keeping it afloat on the surface of the sea.

At two o’clock the balloon was scarcely 400 feet above the waves.

At this moment, the voice of a man whose heart knew no fear was heard. Other voices, no less energetic, answered.

Has everything been thrown out?

No! We still have ten thousand francs in gold!

A weighty sack fell at once into the sea.

Is the balloon rising now?

A little, but it won’t be long before it falls again!

Is there anything left to throw out?

No!

Yes! … the basket!

Let’s hang on to the ropes and drop the basket into the sea!

It was the only way to make the balloon lighter. The cords which connected the basket to the ring were slashed, and the balloon rose to 2000 feet. The five passengers hoisted themselves onto the ropes above the ring and, holding on to the balloon’s rigging, they looked down at the abyss below them. The aerostatic sensitivity of balloons is well known and throwing out the lightest objects suffices to induce an immediate vertical rise. The apparatus, floating in the air, behaves like a highly accurate set of scales. When a weight is removed, its displacement is significant and instantaneous. So it was on this occasion.

But after maintaining its equilibrium for an instant at a higher altitude, the balloon soon began to fall again. The gas was escaping through a tear that was impossible to repair.

The passengers had done all that they could do. No human means could save them now. They could no longer count on any help, save from God.

At four o’clock, the balloon was no more than 500 feet above the water.

A bark was heard. A dog accompanying the passengers hung on to the rigging near his master.

Top has seen something! shouted one of the passengers.

Then suddenly a strong voice shouted out:

Land! Land!

The balloon, which the wind had been carrying toward the southwest, had covered hundreds of miles since dawn, and a rather elevated land mass had appeared on the horizon in that direction.

But the land was still more than 30 miles windward. More than a full hour was needed to reach it, assuming they did not deviate from their path. One hour! Wouldn’t the balloon have lost all its gas before then?

This was the crucial question. The passengers could distinctly see this point of land that they had to reach at all costs. They did not know what it was, island or continent, because they were unaware of exactly where the storm had driven them. But they knew that they had to reach this land, inhabited or not, hospitable or not.

At four o’clock, it was obvious that the balloon could no longer stay aloft. It grazed the surface of the sea. Several times already the crests of enormous waves licked the bottom of the ropes making it still heavier. Like a bird with a wounded wing, the balloon could barely remain airborne.

A half hour later, land was only a mile away. But the balloon, now exhausted, flabby, distended, and creased with large wrinkles, had no more gas except in its uppermost canopy. The passengers, holding on to the rigging, were just too heavy for it. And soon, as it half immersed itself into the sea, they began to be battered by strong waves. The casing of the balloon made an air pocket which the wind pushed like a vessel. Perhaps they could reach the coast in this manner?

When they were only 1000 feet away, four men simultaneously cried out. The balloon, which seemed as though it would never rise again, made an unexpected bound after being struck by a large wave. As if it had lost another of its weights, it suddenly rose to a height of 1500 feet. It was swept up into a wind pocket which, instead of bringing it directly to the coast, forced it to move in an almost parallel direction. Finally, two minutes later, it approached the coast obliquely, then dropped down on the shore out of reach of the waves.

The passengers, helping one another, managed to untangle themselves from the balloon’s rigging. The balloon, now relieved of their weight, lurched upward into the wind. And, like a wounded bird that revives for a moment, it soon disappeared into the sky.

The balloon fell onto the shore.

The basket had contained five passengers and a dog, but only four were dropped onto the shore.

The missing passenger had evidently been swept away by the wave that struck the deflated balloon, an event that allowed the lightened balloon to rise one last time and, a few moments later, to finally reach land.

The four castaways—we will call them by this name—had scarcely set foot on shore when, thinking of the one who was missing, they began to shout:

Perhaps he’s trying to swim. Let’s save him! Let’s save him!⁵

*In other words, 46 meters per second or 166 kilometers per hour (nearly 42 leagues of 4 kilometers).

*Around 1,700 cubic meters.

CHAPTER II

Those whom the storm had thrown onto this coast were neither professional nor even amateur aeronauts. They were prisoners of war,¹ whose audacity had induced them to escape under these extraordinary circumstances. A hundred times they should have perished! A hundred times their torn balloon should have fallen into the abyss! But Heaven had reserved a strange destiny for them. On March 24, after having fled Richmond which was under siege by the troops of General Ulysses Grant,² they found themselves 7000 miles from the capitol of Virginia, the principal stronghold of the rebels during the dreadful Civil War. Their aerial journey had lasted five days.

These are the curious circumstances which led to the prisoners’ escape:

That same year, in the month of February 1865, during one of those bold maneuvers by which General Grant tried unsuccessfully to capture Richmond, some of his officers fell into enemy hands and were interned within the city. One of the most distinguished of those taken was a Union staff officer named Cyrus Smith.³

Cyrus Smith, a native of Massachusetts, was an engineer and a scientist of the first rank. During the war, the Union government entrusted him with the management of the railroads which were strategically important at that time. A true Northerner, he was lean, rawboned, and about 45 years of age. His close-cut hair was already beginning to show streaks of gray, and his thick moustache as well. He had one of those handsome numismatic heads that seemed made to be stamped on medallions, with fiery eyes, a thin-lipped mouth, and the physiognomy of an experienced military scientist. He was one of those engineers who want to begin by handling the hammer and pick, like those generals who wish to begin as simple soldiers. In addition to his inventive genius, he also possessed unmatched manual dexterity, and his muscles were remarkably well developed. Truly a man of action as well as a man of thought, he moved effortlessly with a vitality and steadfast persistence that defied all misfortune. Very educated, practical, and resourceful, he had a superb temperament, always remaining master of himself whatever the circumstances. He had in large measure those three characteristics whose combination defines human energy: activity of mind and body, boldness of desire, and power of will. His motto could have been that of William of Orange of the 17th Century: I have no need of hope to take action, nor of success to persevere.⁴

Cyrus Smith was also courage personified. He had been in all the battles of the Civil War. After serving under Ulysses Grant with the volunteers of Illinois, he fought at Paducah, at Belmont, at Pittsburgh Landing, at the siege of Corinth, at Port Gibson, at Black River, at Chattanooga, at Wilderness,⁵ and on the Potomac, everywhere and valiantly, a soldier worthy of the general who said I never count my dead! And, a hundred times, Cyrus Smith should have been among those not counted by the fierce Grant. But in all those combats, although he never spared himself, fortune always favored him, until the moment when he was wounded and captured on the Richmond battlefield.

On that same day, another important personage fell into Southern hands. It was none other than the honorable Gideon Spilett,⁶ reporter for the New York Herald, who had been assigned to follow the fortunes of this war among the armies of the North.

Gideon Spilett was of that race of astonishing British or American reporters, such as Stanley⁷ and others, who stop at nothing in order to obtain exact information and to transmit it to their newspaper as soon as possible. The newspapers of the Union, such as the New York Herald, are very influential and their reporters are highly respected. Gideon Spilett belonged in the first rank of these reporters.

A man of great merit, energetic, prompt and ready for anything, full of ideas, having traveled the entire world, soldier and artist, rash in council, resolute in action, acknowledging neither pain nor fatigue nor danger when gathering news for himself first and then for his newspaper, a true hero of the curious, the unpublishable, the unknown, and the impossible, he was one of those intrepid observers who writes as bullets fly, always in the line of fire, for whom peril is good fortune.

Gideon Spilett

He too had been in all the battles, on the front lines, revolver in one hand, notebook in the other. Grapeshot did not make him tremble. He did not burden the telegraph wires incessantly, like those who speak when they have nothing to say; but each of his notes, short, candid and clear, brought light to bear on an important point. Further, he did not lack a certain sense of humor. It was he who, after the affair of Black River, wishing at any price to keep his place at the window of the telegraph office in order to announce to his newspaper the result of the battle, telegraphed the first chapters of the Bible for two hours.⁸ It cost the New York Herald $2000, but the New York Herald was the first to publish.

Gideon Spilett was tall, forty years old, and light red side whiskers framed his face. His eyes were calm, quick, and rapid in their movements, the eyes of a man accustomed to taking in rapidly all the details of a scene. Of solid frame, he was tempered in all climates like a bar of steel in ice water.

For ten years, Gideon Spilett had been an official reporter for the New York Herald which he enriched with his articles and his drawings because he was as skilled with the pencil as with the pen. When he was captured, he was in the act of describing and sketching the battle and the last words written in his notebook were these: A Southerner is taking aim at me and … The shot missed its mark and, following his usual luck, Gideon Spilett came out of the affair without a scratch.

Cyrus Smith and Gideon Spilett, who did not know each other except by reputation, were both taken to Richmond. The engineer rapidly recovered from his wound, and during his convalescence he made the acquaintance of the reporter. These two men liked one another at first sight and learned to appreciate each other. Soon their common life had only one goal: to escape, rejoin Grant’s army, and, once in its ranks again, to fight for the preservation of the federal Union.

The two Americans decided to take advantage of any occasion that arose; but, although they had been left at liberty within the city, Richmond itself was so closely guarded that an escape was impossible.

At this time, Cyrus Smith was joined by his servant who was devoted to him in life and in death. This fearless person was a Negro born of slave parents into the engineer’s estate. But Cyrus Smith, who was an abolitionist by conviction as well as from the heart, had long since emancipated him. The slave, on becoming free, did not wish to leave his master. He would have willingly given up his life for him. He was thirty years old, vigorous, agile, skillful, intelligent, gentle and calm, naive at times, always smiling, helpful and kind. He was named Nebuchadnezzar,⁹ but he answered only to the abbreviated nickname of Neb.

When Neb learned that his master had been made prisoner, he left Massachusetts without hesitation, arrived in Richmond, and, with shrewdness and guile, after having risked his life twenty times, he succeeded in penetrating the besieged city. Cyrus Smith’s pleasure in seeing his servant again and Neb’s joy on finding his master cannot be expressed.

But if Neb was able to get into Richmond, it was much more troublesome to get out because the Federal prisoners were closely guarded. It would take an extraordinary turn of events before they could attempt an escape with any chance of success. This opportunity not only did not present itself, but it was also difficult to make happen.

Meanwhile, Grant continued his energetic maneuvers. The victory at Petersburg had been very dearly fought.¹⁰ His forces, united with those of Butler,¹¹ could still not gain a decisive victory at Richmond, so the release of the prisoners was not at hand. The reporter, who found his captivity tedious, could not find a single detail worth noting and could no longer endure it. He had but one idea: to leave Richmond at any cost. Several times he attempted to escape, but was stopped by insurmountable obstacles.

Still the siege continued. If the prisoners were in a hurry to escape to rejoin Grant’s army, some of the besieged were no less in a hurry to flee in order to rejoin the rebel army, among them a certain Jonathan Forster,¹² a dyed-in-the-wool Southerner. In fact, if the Federal prisoners could not leave the city, neither could the Confederates because the Northern army surrounded it. The governor of Richmond had not been able to communicate with General Lee¹³ for some time. It was of utmost importance to make the city’s situation known in order to hasten the march of the relief army. This Jonathan Forster had the idea of crossing above the lines of the besiegers in a balloon, to reach the Confederate camp in that way.¹⁴

The governor authorized the attempt. A balloon was fabricated and placed at the disposal of Jonathan Forster and five of his companions who would follow him into the skies. It was furnished with weapons and ammunition in case they had to defend themselves on landing, and with provisions in case their aerial voyage was prolonged.

The departure of the balloon was fixed for the 18th of March. It would take place during the night and, with a moderate northwest wind, the aeronauts could count on arriving at General Lee’s headquarters in a few hours.

But this northwest wind was not a mere breeze. From the 18th on, they could see that it was turning into a storm. Soon the storm became so strong that Forster’s departure had to be postponed because of the impossible risk, in such violent conditions, to both the balloon and to the men it would carry.

The balloon, inflated in the main square of Richmond, remained there ready to leave at the first calming of the wind. Impatience grew as the storm refused to die down. The 18th and the 19th passed without any change. It even proved difficult to keep the balloon intact because gusts of wind continually threw it to the ground.

The nights of the 19th and the 20th went by. The following morning, the fury of the storm increased. Departure was impossible.

On that day the engineer, Cyrus Smith, was approached in one of the streets of Richmond by a man he did not know. It was a sailor named Pencroff,¹⁵ between thirty five and forty years old, with a stocky build, very suntanned, sharp and blinking eyes, but with a kind face. This Pencroff was a Northerner who had crossed all the seas of the globe and who had experienced all the adventures that could befall a being with two feet and no feathers. Needless to say, he had an enterprising nature, ready to venture anything and was surprised at nothing. Pencroff came to Richmond at the beginning of the year on business with a fifteen year old boy, Harbert Brown¹⁶ of New Jersey, the son of his captain, an orphan whom he loved like his own child. Not being able to leave the city before the beginnings of the siege, he found himself confined there to his great displeasure. He too had but one idea, to escape by all means possible. He knew of Cyrus Smith’s reputation, and he knew how impatient this determined man was to break free. On this day, he therefore did not hesitate to approach him saying without thinking:

Mr. Smith, have you had enough of Richmond?

Mr. Smith, would you like to escape?

The engineer stared at the man who spoke to him in this way, who added in a low voice:

Mr. Smith, would you like to escape?

When? the engineer replied briskly. This response burst from him before he could examine the person speaking to him.

But after giving the sailor a penetrating look, he did not doubt that he had an honest man before him.

Who are you? he asked briefly.

Pencroff introduced himself.

Good, replied Cyrus Smith, and how do you propose to escape?

By that lazy balloon which lies there doing nothing and which seems to be waiting just for us …

The sailor had no need to finish his sentence. The engineer understood from the first word. He seized Pencroff by the arms and led him to his dwelling.

There the sailor outlined his plan, really a simple one. They risked nothing in its execution but their lives. The storm was at its height, it was true, but an engineer as skillful as Cyrus Smith would know how to navigate a balloon. If Pencroff had known how to maneuver it himself, he would not have hesitated to leave, with Harbert of course. He had seen better storms than this at sea.

Cyrus Smith listened to the sailor without saying a word, but his eyes were burning bright. This was the opportunity and he was not a man to let it pass. The project was very dangerous, but it was feasible. At night they could board the balloon in spite of the surveillance, slip into the basket, and cut the lines that held it. Certainly they risked being killed but, on the other hand, they might succeed, and without this storm … But, without this storm, the balloon would already have left, and this long sought opportunity would not have presented itself at all.

I am not alone! … Cyrus Smith finally said.

How many people do you want to take along? asked the sailor.

Two: my friend Spilett and my servant Neb.

That makes three, replied Pencroff, and with Harbert and me, five. The balloon can carry six …

That’s enough. We will go! said Cyrus Smith.

This we committed the reporter, but he was not a man to back down and, when told about the plan, he approved it without reservation. What astonished him was that they had not already thought of so simple an idea. As for Neb, he would follow his master wherever his master wished to go.

This evening then, said Pencroff, the five of us will stroll along there pretending to be curious.

This evening at ten o’clock, replied Cyrus Smith, and pray this storm does not let up before our departure.

Pencroff left the engineer and returned to his lodging where young Harbert Brown had remained. This courageous lad knew of the sailor’s plan and waited anxiously for the results of his discussion with the engineer. It was that five determined men would hurl themselves into the storm’s full fury!

The storm did not abate. Neither Jonathan Forster nor his companions could dream of confronting it in the frail basket. The weather that day was horrific. The engineer feared but one thing: that the balloon, held to the ground and leveled by the wind, would be torn into a thousand pieces. For several hours he prowled around the nearly deserted square, examining the apparatus. Pencroff on his side did likewise, his hands in his pockets, about to yawn, like a man who doesn’t know how to kill time, but also afraid that the balloon would be torn or even that it would break its lines and escape into the sky. Evening came. The night was gloomy and a thick mist rolled in, like a cloud at ground level. Rain fell mixed with snow. It was cold. A sort of fog settled over Richmond. It seemed that the violent tempest forced a truce between the besiegers and the besieged, and that the cannons had decided to remain silent before the deafening thunder of the storm. The streets of the city were deserted. In this horrible weather, it did not even seem necessary to guard the square where the balloon was floundering. Everything obviously favored the escape of the prisoners; but to journey thus, in the midst of this furious storm …?

Nasty weather, Pencroff said to himself, punching his hat down onto his head as the wind was trying to blow it off. Oh well! We’ll manage all the same!

At half past nine, Cyrus Smith and his companions crept in from different corners of the square. The gas lanterns, extinguished by the wind, left them in complete darkness. They could not even see the enormous balloon which was almost completely pushed down onto the ground. Besides the sacks of ballast which held the ropes, the basket was also held down by a strong cable which passed through a ring in the pavement.

The five prisoners met near the basket of the balloon. They had not been seen and in the darkness they could not even see each other.

Without saying a word, Cyrus Smith, Gideon Spilett, Neb, and Harbert took their place in the basket, while Pencroff, on an order from the engineer, detached the bags of ballast. This took but a few moments, and the sailor rejoined his companions.

They met near the basket of the balloon.

The balloon was then held by the cable alone, and Cyrus Smith now had only to give the order to depart.

At that moment a dog dashed toward the basket. It was Top, the engineer’s dog who, having broken his chain, had followed his master. The engineer, fearing the excess weight, wanted to send the animal away.

Bah! What’s one more, said Pencroff, throwing two sacks of sand out of the basket.

Then he cast off the cable and the balloon rose at an angle and disappeared into the sky after the basket knocked down two chimneys in the fury of its departure.

The storm then unleashed itself with a frightful violence. During the night, the engineer could not think of descending and, when day returned, they could not see the ground through the clouds. After five days, a clearing let them see the immense ocean beneath the balloon, which the wind had driven on at a frightful speed.

Five men left on the 20th of March. Four of them were now thrown, on the 24th of March,¹⁷ on a deserted coast more than 6000 miles from their country.*

And the one who was missing, the one the four other balloon survivors were now running to rescue, was their natural leader, the engineer Cyrus Smith.

CHAPTER III

The engineer was carried off by a wave through the netting which had given way. His dog had also disappeared. The faithful animal had voluntarily thrown himself into the sea to rescue his master.

Hurry! shouted the reporter.

All four survivors, Gideon Spilett, Harbert, Pencroff and Neb, forgetting their exhaustion and fatigue, began their search. Poor Neb cried with rage and despair at the thought of having lost all that he loved in the world.

Less than two minutes had passed from the moment Cyrus Smith disappeared to the instant his companions touched land. They hoped to arrive in time to save him.

Let’s search! Let’s search for him! shouted Neb.

Yes, Neb, replied Gideon Spilett, and we will find him!

Living?

Living!

Does he know how to swim? asked Pencroff.

Yes, replied Neb, and besides, Top is there …

The sailor, listening to the roar of the sea, shook his head.

It was on the coast to the north, about a half mile from the spot where the castaways had landed, that the engineer had disappeared. If he had been able to reach the nearest point on the shoreline, he would be at most a half mile from them.

It was then nearly six o’clock. A fog had just rolled in, making the evening dark. The castaways proceeded northward along the eastern coastline of this land upon which they had been thrown by chance, an unknown land whose geographical location they could not even guess at. They trod upon sandy soil, mixed with stones, which seemed to be deprived of every species of vegetation. This soil, very uneven and rugged, seemed in certain spots to be riddled with small potholes which made their progress very difficult. From these holes, heavy birds of sluggish flight escaped at each instant, flying off in all directions into the darkness. Other more agile ones rose and passed overhead in cloud-like flocks. The sailor thought he recognized sea gulls and sea mews whose sharp cries competed with the roars from the sea.

From time to time, the castaways stopped to shout and listen for some sound not made by the ocean. It was possible that, if they were near the place where the engineer had landed, they might hear Top’s barking if Cyrus Smith was unable to give some sign of life. But no cry was heard above the growling of the waves and the crashing of the surf. The small troop resumed their forward march and searched every crevice of the shoreline.

After a walk of twenty minutes, the four castaways were suddenly stopped by the foaming waves. Solid ground vanished and they found themselves at the extremity of a sharp point of land where the sea broke with great fury.

It is a promontory, said the sailor. "We must retrace our steps keeping to our right and, in this way, we’ll get to the

Reviews for The Mysterious Island

[jonimfisher · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Great escape reading. Loved the imagery and adventure!

[schmerguls · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is a 2001 translation of the book published first in 1874. To the extent that the book is science fiction or fantasy the book disappoints. But much of the book tells of the stranded group on the island working out their existence, a la Robinson Crusoe, and that part of the book is fairly fun reading. Most of the time things work out very well, and most of the efforts of the group dropped on the Pacific island succeed and when they are really up against it a deus ex machina comes to their aid. This is the fifth Jules Verne book I have read and I think I have read as much of his work as I need to.

[srboone · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Verne's second Nemo novel isn't as satisfying as the first, mostly due to it's pacing, but it's a grand adventure in it's own right: exciting, supense, with a large does of humor.

[elviomedeiros_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Most of the time you are not aware that this book was first published in 1874. That is how well it was written. In the end you kind of miss having the characters around. Nonetheless it is quite interesting how a small island, midway between South America and Australia, is so rich in plants, animals and minerals. The “colonizers” are able to make nitroglycerin (remembering we are in a deserted island in 1800´s), iron-wires and a telegraph. They find all sorts of plants, medicinal herbs and even tobacco. Not to mention the fauna, jaguars, kangaroos, orangutans (one is tamed!), and even a freshwater dugong. How did it get there? Mystery. Leaving that aside, this book made me wonder how dependent we are on technology and how ignorant we are about it. Most engineers today would not be able to construct what Cyrus Smith was able, only with bare hands and with the knowledge in his head (without books, internet or specialized tools).

[buffalogr · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A sequel to "20,000 Leagues..." the book postulates a long balloon ride from Libby Prison in Richmond (1865) to a south seas island. One character, an engineer, dominates/leads the others and they all create an idyllic life on a the island. Originally published in 1874, republished many times over, the amount of research to create pottery, nitroglycerine, build a boat, domesticate animals, etc., was amazing. The writing style also reflects the times as does the attitude toward slavery and class. As I missed the opportunity in high school, I'll read some more Jules Verne.

[trhummer_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I'm reading this one to my seven year old daughter at bedtime; it's great for her, and for me as well, as when I was young I read this book again and again. It's still my favorite Verne.

[endersreads · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Mr. Verne did a wonderous job with this adventure (given some slight date discrepancies between this book and "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea")! Dealing with a party of 5 lead by first-class engineer Captain Harding (english translation), they make a hasty escape from their fate as American Civil War POW's to the siege in 1865 upon Richmond, Virginia, in a balloon, which soon finds itself lost and in a tempest. The 5 come to find themselves marooned on an island in the South Pacific. Awesomeness ensues. The highly inventive engineer soon sets his party to work upon making the desolate island somewhat technologically evolved. This inventiveness manifests itself in various machine makings and the such, and along with the strange happenings on the island and the soon to be found-out Captain Nemo, well, this makes this book quite unforgettable and a delightful read!

[mccin68 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

in 1865 5 men and a dog attempt a desparate escape during the american civil war by balloon. they become stranded on an uninhabited island in the South Pacific. Their incredible resourcefulness, ingenuity and teamwork help them to colonize what they later rename as Lincoln Island. Verne can be tedious in his description of the engineering and metallurgic techinques but they are interesting all the same. Ending was quite far fetched and disappointing.

[missbecki_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This book starts out with Verne's usual endearing absurdity (the men have crashlanded after stealing a hot air balloon to escape the American Civil War), but quickly becomes pretty boring. It took me a long time to plow through this, mostly because the plot moves so slowly. The mystery of the island is pretty disappointing, although I did like the final scene very much.

[choccy_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Jules Verne is a god! If I can be a writer, I want to be like him. No one else. I've read five of his books and they all blew me away.The Mysterious Island is the ultimate Jules Verne's masterpiece. It tells about five castaways in an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, driven by a storm after they fled from the then raging Civil War in the US (1860s). For survival, they learn to be farmers, hunters, masons, sailors, potters, chemists, physicists, and various of professions you could imagine.Yes, this might sounds like Defoe's Robinson Crusoe, Doyle's The Lost World and other similar stories, but Verne's description is more....complete, adventurous, imaginative, rich with interesting details (hell, he can even make the process of making pottery and iron tools sounds rather fascinating). Plus, Verne's books are classic science fictions with amazing grand visions. Yeah yeah, there's that HG Wells guy, but he's nothing compared with Verne, believe me.The ending (which explains why the island is mysterious) is superb and kinda shocking to me. If you're an avid Jules Verne's reader, you'll know what I mean. Hint: character cross-over.

[kateingilo · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Sequel to 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. I think I liked it even better, but its been a long time. Must read again

[rakerman_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Some very cool ideas, an incredible optimism about what intelligent people could accomplish.

[untraveller · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Mildly entertaining, but there was much wrong with the book.... wrong science (but tis ok as it was the science of the time), but mostly the writing style. It seems that Verne has certain phrases he will use ad nauseum until the reader wants to throw the book at his grave. That really was the issue with me. Bad chronology as well that could have been easily fixed by eliminating certain dates. Enjoyable, but ponderous.

[dlmorrese · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Originally published in 1875, this novel is noticeably dated, but it's still a good read.

[michaeldwebb · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Great fun, although it's really more of a mildy curious than a mysterious island. Still, really readable. A group of balloonists land on an island miles from anywhere, and through superiour engineer knowledge build the best island ever from scratch, like characters in the computer game Civilisation. Mildly unexplainable events happen.

[heptonj · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a great book and still very readable after all these years. It's totally unbelievable but good fun and adventurous anyway. 5 men and a dog are stranded on an unknown island and proceed to colonise it in, quite frankly, ingenious ways. There is also a 'mystery helper' who aids them in their times of strife. For those 'PC' people, I suppose the fact that there was a master and a 'slave' (who, incidentally loved and admired his 'master') didn't sit too well but this book is not to be taken seriously. In those days there were 'masters' and 'slaves' and the good old Brits didn't show up in a very good light either. It's a fantasy and an adventure, full stop.

[garrison0550 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This a book I'd recommend to just about anyone!

[she_climber · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I listened to the audio version of this book on a road trip. And while interesting and entertaining. it was just so dang long. Not as good as Jules Vern's Journey to the Center of the Earth. I know long and wordy was the style back 150 years ago when this was originally written as there were few other choices for entertainment, and I have to say some of the vocabulary was quite interesting and educational. How these colonists managed all this time on this Mysterious Island while never once having an argument is the true mystery of the story to me.

[d7lury · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Two men and a boy arrived on a strange island. Mysterious things happened to them there. Will they see their homes again?I was surprised at the end. I thought they were strong people.

[jastbrown · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

What a fascinating story. As attractive now as when I read it as a teenager. This doesn't read as an old story, but rather as a modern story about an old subject.

[stpnwlf · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Imagine "Lost" written by a much better author.

[bcjunior13 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The adventure novel written by Jules Verne depicting the survival techniques employed by ordinary men who beat back nature and held themselves in semblances of civilization reminiscent of a world they had lost. However climatic and enticing, this page-turner’s plot was woefully boring unlike many of Verne’s other books. The exploits of Cyrus Harding and the other men on Lincoln Island were sheer, unadulterated adventure yet achievable by any other men placed on the same island with naught but companions. That was perhaps the underlying intrigue of the book to me as I have spent many an hour contemplating the means I would need to accomplish to survive in the wilderness. Ultimately, I was dismayed by the lack of wit and mental acuity that Verne often imparts to her other characters. I found the verbal bantering and conversations dull and lacking in even the most simple of intellect. If I was to survive among such fellows whose chief concerns where often superfluous goods like tobacco, I would almost undoubtedly go insane just for sheer want of solitude. Perhaps that is where Harding succeeded and I would not.Perhaps the most disappointing part of the book was the end. Not wishing to discourage those who are yet reading from finishing rather warning them of impending disappoint. I thought there was some higher purpose to the almost magical happenings of the Mysterious Island, yet the climax’s lack of substance enraged me to the point that I was ready to fly in balloon to my own island intent in providing a better explanation of the mysteries of the island than Verne’s advertising campaign that filled the last pages of a disappointing work of literature.

[bzedan_2 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Oh my God. Some dudes are castaway on this island and I cannot put real words together to explain why I wanted to kill this book. So here are some select Twitters from when I was reading it:* I find it a little horrifying that the castaways in Verne's 'Mysterious Island' never use bone for anything. Too savage? [though they end up using some whale bone, but that's pretty white so it's okay]* They didn't use bone to tip arrows! They waited until the dog found a porcupine! How are clothes mended?!* Nor have they tanned hide yet—and left several seals to rot on a beach, taking the fat (for 'splosions & candles, no soap) ['splosions being nitro-glycerine, the better for shaping the world to human desires]* My God, they're doing everything backwards. The Mysterious Island castaways finally tan some leather, but not the rabbits. No. Koalas.* Yeah, I don't see how reading the "prequels" of Mysterious Island would help any. Pretty vaguely interwoven, there.* Mysterious Island, has not made me want to expand my Verne reading. I mean, thanks for summarising '20,000 Leagues' and all so now I don't have to read it—but still. This book is on my shit list. My book shit list also names 'Little House on the Prairie', which I couldn't even finish at the age of nine. Good company for it, I think.* The Terror and Unpredictability of Nature overwhelms Industry, okay. Whatever, Verne.

[unclebob53703 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This edition is unabridged, and has a lot more in it than I was previously aware.

[jessica_reads · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was my first tread into Jules Verne. I was rewarded with a good read. The only complaint was that there was a lot of detail put into all the different mechanisms they had to make. However, it was still interesting to learn such things from the way to build many things from raw resources to how to create makeshift items to help with survival.

The story begins with 5 prisoners; an engineer, a sailor, a reporter, a servant, and a young man along with a very bright dog; traveling in a hot air balloon to escape imprisonment during the Civil War. They are thrown onto an island that isn't listed on any maps and well out of the way for any ships in the Pacific to go by. They even go on a short trip to a close but un-useful island to help a castaway. For four long years these escapees have to start from nothing to make themselves a civilized dwelling. They create everything from a house in granite rock and a garden and an animal farm to any mechanism they might need to create something to survive with. They spend their days working and building and creating all the necessities as well as some wants. They build two ships and at the last second when they fear death, they are saved. There are references to 20,000 leagues under the seas and captain Nemo as well as historical things.

The story is long but with all the details you learn not only to feel like you know the islanders but also enough to see their surroundings and feel their anxieties. There is adventure, camaraderie, pirates, survival, and many other things all wrapped up in this amazing classic.

[trgllylibrarian · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The first half is REALLY slow, but then it gets more and more exciting. It's one of Verne's lesser-known works, worth investigating.

[jesssika-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was my first tread into Jules Verne. I was rewarded with a good read. The only complaint was that there was a lot of detail put into all the different mechanisms they had to make. However, it was still interesting to learn such things from the way to build many things from raw resources to how to create makeshift items to help with survival.

The story begins with 5 prisoners; an engineer, a sailor, a reporter, a servant, and a young man along with a very bright dog; traveling in a hot air balloon to escape imprisonment during the Civil War. They are thrown onto an island that isn't listed on any maps and well out of the way for any ships in the Pacific to go by. They even go on a short trip to a close but un-useful island to help a castaway. For four long years these escapees have to start from nothing to make themselves a civilized dwelling. They create everything from a house in granite rock and a garden and an animal farm to any mechanism they might need to create something to survive with. They spend their days working and building and creating all the necessities as well as some wants. They build two ships and at the last second when they fear death, they are saved. There are references to 20,000 leagues under the seas and captain Nemo as well as historical things.

The story is long but with all the details you learn not only to feel like you know the islanders but also enough to see their surroundings and feel their anxieties. There is adventure, camaraderie, pirates, survival, and many other things all wrapped up in this amazing classic.

[la2bkk · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I was quite disappointed in this work.First of all, the book is too long. Verne may be many things, but "concise" is surely not one of them, at least as far as this work goes. Next, while the basic story line is excellent (castaways on an unknown island), Verne's characters are incredibly formulaic and shallow. So to with their various adventures on the island and their inevitable escapes from peril. While some aspects of the book show Verne's effort at displaying his wide ranging scientific knowledge of the day, many aspects of the ending are simply ridiculous. An excellent book for children or young adults. However, if you are looking for depth of character or any degree of sophistication, better go elsewhere.

[macdad-236140 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This was a very entertaining adventure novel, even if Verne's castaways were implausibly gifted with just the right skills and knowledge necessary to survive.

[ikeman100 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I obviously have not read enough Jules Verne. I was pleasantly surprised with this book. Now I have to start reading more of Verne's works. I like him better then H. G. Wells. Wells' stories were often more dreadful, hopeless and too "Victorian England". Verne writes with a timeless flavor of optimism and possibility.