Kitabı oku: «Round the World in Eighty Days», sayfa 11

CHAPTER XXIX

In which certain Incidents are told which are never met with except on Railroads in the United States.

That evening the train proceeded without interruption; passed Fort Saunders, crossed Cheyenne Pass, and arrived at Evans' Pass. Here the railroad reached its greatest elevation, eight thousand and ninety-one feet above the sea. The track was now downhill all the way to the Atlantic, across naturally level plains. From here the Grand Trunk Line led to Denver, the capital of Colorado State, rich in gold and silver mines, and boasting more than fifty thousand inhabitants.

Three days and three nights had now been passed in accomplishing one thousand three hundred and eighty-two miles; four days and four nights more would suffice to reach New York, and Phileas Fogg had not lost time.

During the night they had passed Camp Walbach, and entered Nebraska at eleven, passing Julesburg on the south branch of the Platte river. It was here that General Dodge inaugurated the Union Pacific road on the 23rd of October, 1867. Here two powerful locomotives with nine carriages full of guests stopped, three cheers were given, the Sioux and Pawnee Indians had a sham fight, fireworks were let off, and the first number of a paper called The Railway Pioneer was printed in a press carried in the train.

Fort MacPherson was passed at eight in the morning; they had still three hundred and fifty-seven miles to go to Omaha. At nine o'clock the train stopped at North Platte, a town built between the two arms of the river.

The hundred-and-first meridian was now passed.

Mr. Fogg and his partner had resumed their whist; none of them, not even the dummy, complained of the length of the journey. Fix had at first won several guineas which he now seemed about to lose, but he was not a less passionate player than Fogg. Fortune distinctly favoured that gentleman, and showered trumps and honours upon him.

On one occasion he was on the point of playing a spade, when a voice behind him said, "I should play a diamond."

The players all looked up, and beheld Colonel Proctor. He and Fogg recognised each other at the same moment.

"Oh, you are that Britisher, are you?" exclaimed the Colonel. "So you are going to play a spade?"

"Yes, and I play it too," replied Fogg coldly, as he threw down the ten.

"Well, I choose to have diamonds," said Proctor insolently. He made a movement as if to seize the card just played, adding, "You know nothing about whist."

"Perhaps I do, as well as other people," said Fogg, rising.

"You have only got to try, you son of a John Bull," said the stout man.

Mrs. Aouda now turned very pale; she seized Fogg by the arm, and pulled him back. Passe-partout was quite ready to throw himself upon the American, who continued to regard his adversary with an insolent stare, but Fix rose and said, "You forget that this is my business, sir; I was not only insulted, but struck."

"Mr. Fix, excuse me," said Fogg; "this is entirely my business. By pretending that I did not know how to play, the Colonel has insulted me, and shall give me satisfaction."

"When and where you please," said the American; "name your weapons."

Aouda tried to keep Mr. Fogg back; the detective also tried to make the quarrel his own; Passe-partout wanted to throw the Colonel out of the window, but a sign from his master checked him. Mr. Fogg left the car, and the American followed him to the platform.

"Sir," said Fogg, "I am in a great hurry to return to Europe; any delay will be very prejudicial to my interest."

"What is all that to me?" said the Colonel.

"Sir," continued Fogg, very politely, "after our dispute at San Francisco, I had promised myself to return to America and find you out, when I had finished my business in England."

"Really!"

"Will you meet me six months hence?"

"Why don't you say six years?"

"I said six months," said Fogg, "and I shall not fail to be at the rendezvous."

"This is all humbug," cried Proctor; "it must be now or never."

"Very well," said Mr. Fogg; "are you going to New York?"

"No."

"To Chicago?"

"No."

"To Omaha?"

"It can't matter to you. Do you know Plum Creek?"

"No," replied Mr. Fogg.

"It is the next station. We shall stop there ten minutes; we shall have lots of time to exchange shots."

"All right," replied Mr. Fogg; "I will stop at Plum Creek."

"I guess you will stay there altogether," replied the American, with unparalleled insolence.

"Who knows?" replied Mr. Fogg, entering the car as coolly as ever, and commenced to reassure Mrs. Aouda, by telling her that braggarts need never be feared. He then asked Fix to be his second in the approaching duel, which Fix could not well refuse to be; and then Phileas Fogg sat down quietly and resumed his whist, without betraying the least emotion.

At eleven o'clock the whistle of the engine announced their approach to Plum Creek. Mr. Fogg got up, and followed by Fix and Passe-partout, carrying a brace of revolvers, went out upon the platform. Mrs. Aouda remained in the car, as pale as death.

At that moment the door of the next car opened, and Colonel Proctor appeared, followed by his second, a Yankee of the same stamp as himself. They were about to descend when the guard ran up and said, "You cannot get out, gentlemen."

"Why not?" demanded the Colonel.

"We are twenty minutes late, and cannot stop."

"But I am going to fight a duel with this gentleman."

"I am very sorry," said the guard, "but we must be off at once; there is the bell ringing."

As he was speaking the train started.

"I am really extremely grieved, gentlemen," said the guard, "and under any other circumstances I should have been able to have obliged you. But though you cannot stop to fight, there is nothing to prevent your doing so as you go along."

"Perhaps that would not suit that gentleman," said the Colonel in a jeering tone.

"It will suit me quite well," replied Phileas Fogg.

"Well, we are actually in America, I see," thought Passe-partout; "and the guard is a gentleman of the highest standing."

The two adversaries, their seconds, and the guard passed down to the rear of the train. The last car had only about a dozen passengers in it, and the conductor asked them if they would mind moving, as the two gentlemen had a little affair of honour to settle.

The passengers were very glad to oblige the gentlemen, and they retired accordingly.

The car, about fifty feet long, was very suitable for the purpose. The combatants could advance towards one another between the seats, and fire at their leisure. Never had there been a duel more easy to arrange. Mr. Fogg and Colonel Proctor, each carrying a six-barrelled revolver, entered the car. Their seconds, having locked them in, withdrew to the platform. The duellists were to begin to fire at the first whistle of the engine, then, after a lapse of two minutes, what remained of the two gentlemen would be taken from the car.

Nothing could be easier. It was even so simple, that Fix and Passe-partout could hear their hearts beating as they listened.

Everyone was on the qui vive for the first whistle, when suddenly savage cries resounded, accompanied by shots, which certainly did not come from the duellists. On the contrary, the reports rose all along the train; cries of terror were heard inside the cars.

Colonel Proctor and Mr. Fogg, revolvers in hand, were hastily released, and rushed forward into the thick of the struggle, when they perceived that the train had been attacked by a band of Sioux. This was not the first time that this hardy tribe had attacked the train. According to custom, they leaped on the footboards as the train proceeded, as easy as a circus-rider would mount a horse at full gallop. The Sioux were armed with guns, to which the passengers replied with revolvers. The Indians had first mounted the engine, and stunned the engine-driver and firemen with blows on the head. A chief wished to stop the train, but not knowing how to do so had opened instead of closing the regulator, and the train was now proceeding at tremendous speed. Others of the tribe had entered the cars as actively as apes, and were now engaged in a hand-to-hand fight with the passengers. They pillaged the baggage-waggon, and were all the time fighting incessantly.

The travellers defended themselves courageously; they barricaded some of the cars which were besieged like forts, carried along at the rate of forty or fifty miles an hour. Mrs. Aouda had been most courageous. Revolver in hand, she defended herself heroically, firing through the broken windows whenever she caught sight of a savage. As many as twenty Sioux had fallen, and lay crushed by the wheels; and many passengers, grievously wounded, lay stretched upon the seats.

But it was necessary to put an end to the fight, which had lasted for ten minutes, and would result in a victory for the Indians if the train were not stopped. Fort Kearney Station, where there was a guard, was only a couple of miles farther on, and if that were passed, the Indians would be masters of the train till the next station was reached. The guard was fighting bravely by the side of Mr. Fogg, when he was shot down. As he fell he cried, "If the train is not stopped in less than five minutes, we are all lost!"

"It shall be stopped," said Fogg, who was about to rush out.

"Stay where you are, sir," said Passe-partout, "this is my business."

His master had not time to stop the brave fellow, who, unseen by the Indians, managed to creep along beneath the carriages, and then calling all his agility to his aid, with marvellous dexterity he managed to reach the fore part of the train without being seen. There, suspended by one hand between the baggage-waggon and the tender, with the other hand he unfastened the coupling-chains; but owing to the great tension, he was not able to loose the draw-bar, but it was fortunately jerked out as the train jolted. The locomotive, thus detached, sped along at a tremendous pace in front, while the train gradually slackened speed, and the breaks assisting it, it was pulled up within a hundred feet of Fort Kearney. The soldiers, attracted by the sound of firing, hastily turned out; but the Indians did not wait for them. They all disappeared before the train stopped.

But when the travellers came to count the passengers, they found that several were missing, and amongst the absentees was the brave Frenchman who had devoted himself to save them.

CHAPTER XXX

In which Phileas Fogg simply does his Duty.

Three of the travellers, including Passe-partout, had disappeared, but it was impossible to say whether they had been killed or taken prisoners.

Several were wounded, but none mortally. Colonel Proctor was one of the most severely hurt; he had fought bravely, and was carried with the other wounded into the station, where he was attended to as well as the circumstances admitted of.

Mrs. Aouda was safe, and Phileas Fogg, who had been in the midst of the fight, had not received a scratch. Fix had a flesh-wound in the arm, but Passe-partout was missing, and Aouda could not help weeping. Meanwhile the travellers all got out of the train, the wheels of which were covered with blood and jagged pieces of flesh. Red tracks were visible on the whitened plain. The Indians were disappearing in the south along the Republican River.

Mr. Fogg was standing motionless with folded arms, and Aouda looked at him without speaking, but he understood her; he had to make up his mind. If his servant were a prisoner, ought he not to rescue him from the Indians?

"I will find him, living or dead," he said simply to Aouda.

"Oh Mr. Fogg!" exclaimed the young lady, seizing his hands, upon which her tears fell fast.

"Living," added Mr. Fogg, "if we lose no time."

By this resolution Phileas Fogg sacrificed everything, he pronounced his own ruin. A delay of even one day would lose the steamer at New York and his wager. But he thought it was his duty, and did not hesitate.

The commandant of Fort Kearney was present; his company were under arms to repel any further attack.

"Sir," said Mr. Fogg to him, "three passengers are missing."

"Dead?" asked the captain.

"Dead or prisoners," replied Fogg; "I must find out which. Is it your intention to pursue the Sioux?"

"That would be a very serious thing," replied the captain. "The Indians may retreat beyond the Arkansas, and I cannot leave the fort undefended."

"Sir," replied Fogg, "the lives of three men are in question."

"No doubt; but can I risk fifty to save three?"

"I do not know if you can, sir; but I know you ought."

"Sir," replied the captain, "no one here is fit to teach me my duty."

"Very well," said Fogg coldly, "I will go alone."

"You, sir!" exclaimed Fix, who now approached. "Do you mean to go alone in pursuit of the Indians?"

"Do you wish me to leave that unfortunate man to perish to whom everyone here owes his life? I shall certainly go."

"No, sir, you shall not go alone," said the captain, who was moved in spite of himself. "You are a brave fellow. Now, then, thirty volunteers," he added, turning to the troops.

The whole company advanced at once. The captain had only to pick his men. Thirty were chosen, and a steady old non-commissioned officer put in command.

"Thanks, captain," said Mr. Fogg.

"You will let me go with you?" said Fix.

"You can do as you please, sir, but if you wish to do me a service you will remain with Mrs. Aouda. Should anything happen to me – "

The detective turned very pale. Should he separate from the man he had followed so persistently? Should he leave him to wander thus in the prairie? Fix gazed attentively at Mr. Fogg, and notwithstanding his suspicions and the struggle going on within him, his eyes fell before that frank look.

"I will remain," he said.

In a few moments Mr. Fogg, having shaken hands with the young lady and confided his precious bag to her care, departed with the soldiers. But before marching away he said to his escort, "My friends, I will divide a thousand pounds amongst you if we save the prisoners."

It was then a little past midday.

Mrs. Aouda retired to a waiting-room, and there she remained thinking of the generosity and courage of Phileas Fogg, who had sacrificed his fortune and was now risking his life for what he believed to be his duty. In her eyes Mr. Fogg was a hero.

But Fix's thoughts were very different; he could scarcely conceal his agitation; he walked up and down the station and soon recovered himself. Now that Fogg had gone, Fix perceived how foolish he had been to let him go. He began to accuse himself in pretty round terms, as if he had been his own inspector.

"What a fool I have been," he thought. "The fellow has gone and won't come back. How is it that I, actually with a warrant for his arrest in my pocket, could have been so played upon? Well, I am an ass!"

Thus reasoned the detective as he walked up and down the platform. He did not know what to do. Sometimes he thought he would tell Aouda everything, but he knew how she would receive his confidence. He then thought of following Fogg over the prairie, and he thought it not impossible he might find him, as the footsteps of the escort would be imprinted in the snow. But after a further fall they would soon be obliterated.

Fix became discouraged, and felt inclined to give up the whole thing. He had now an opportunity to leave Kearney Station and pursue his way homewards. In fact about two o'clock, in the midst of a snowstorm, long whistles were heard from eastward; a great shadow was slowly advancing; no train was expected from that direction. The assistance telegraphed for could not possibly arrive so soon, and the train to San Francisco was not due till the next day. The mystery was soon explained.

It was the runaway locomotive that was approaching. After it had left the train, it had run a long distance till the fire got low and the steam went down. Then it stopped, still bearing the half-conscious engine-driver and firemen. When they found themselves alone in the prairie they understood what had happened, and they had no doubt they would find the train somewhere on the track, helpless. The engine-driver did not hesitate. To go on to Omaha would be only prudent, while to return would be dangerous. He nevertheless built up the fire and ran back to Fort Kearney, whistling through the mist as he went.

The travellers were all delighted to see the engine attached to the train once more. They could now resume their journey, so fatally interrupted.

When the engine was coupled on, Mrs. Aouda asked the guard if he were really going to start?

"Right away, ma'am," he replied.

"But the prisoners, our unfortunate companions – "

"I cannot interrupt the service," he replied; "we are three hours late already."

"And when will the next train arrive from San Francisco?"

"To-morrow evening."

"That will be too late. It must wait."

"That is impossible. If you wish to go on, please get in."

"I will not go," replied the lady.

Fix heard this conversation. A short time before, when there was no chance of his going on, he had decided to leave Kearney, and now that it was necessary for him to take his place, something seemed to detain him. The conflict in his mind waxed fiercer, he wished to fight it out.

Meantime the passengers, some of them wounded, including Colonel Proctor, took their places in the train, which started immediately and soon disappeared, the steam mingling with the falling snow.

Fix had remained behind.

Some hours passed away. The weather was wretched and very cold. Fix remained seated, apparently asleep, on a bench. Aouda, notwithstanding the tempest, continually came out of the room set apart for her, and walking to the extremity of the platform, attempted to penetrate the thick falling snow, as she listened intently for some sound of the return of the escort. But she saw and heard nothing, and would return chilled to the bone, only to sally forth once more in vain.

Night fell, the troops had not returned; the commandant began to feel anxious, though he did not betray his anxiety. The snow fell less thickly now, but the cold was intense; absolute silence reigned around. All night Mrs. Aouda kept wandering about, filled with the most dismal forebodings – her imagination suggested a thousand dangers, and her anxiety was terrible.

Fix remained immovable, but he did not sleep either. A man approached him once and spoke to him, but a shake of the head was the only reply he received.

Thus passed the night. At sunrise it was possible to distinguish objects at the distance of two miles; but towards the south, in which direction the party had gone, there was no sign. It was then seven o'clock.

The captain, who was now seriously alarmed, did not know what to do. Should he send a second detachment after the first, and sacrifice more men on the slender chance of saving those who had already gone? But he did not hesitate long, and was on the point of ordering a reconnaissance to be made, when the sound of firing was heard. The soldiers rushed out of the fort and perceived the little troop returning in good order.

Mr. Fogg was marching at their head. Close to him were Passe-partout and the other two passengers, rescued from the hands of the Sioux. They had encountered the Indians ten miles from Kearney. Just before they arrived Passe-partout and his companions had turned upon their captors, three of whom the Frenchman had knocked down with his fists, when his master and the escort came to his assistance.

The party was welcomed most joyously.

Phileas Fogg distributed the promised reward to the soldiers, while Passe-partout muttered, and not without reason, "I must confess that I cost my master pretty dearly."

Fix looked at Mr. Fogg without speaking, and it would have been difficult to analyse his thoughts at that moment. Mrs. Aouda, whose feelings were too deep for expression, took Mr. Fogg's hands in hers and pressed them without speaking.

Ever since his return Passe-partout had been looking for the train; he hoped to find it there ready to start for Omaha, and trusted that the lost time might be regained.

"But where is the train?" he exclaimed.

"Gone," replied Fix.

"When is the next train due here?" asked Mr. Fogg.

"Not until this evening."

"Ah!" replied the impassible gentleman simply.