CHAPTER XXV
BETWEEN FIRE AND WATER
BEFORE turning into "their nest," as Paganel had called
it, he, and Robert, and Glenarvan climbed up into the observatory to have one
more inspection of the liquid plain.
It was about nine o'clock; the sun had just sunk behind
the glowing mists of the western horizon.
The eastern horizon was gradually assuming a most
stormy aspect. A thick dark bar of cloud was rising
higher and higher, and by degrees extinguishing the stars.
Before long half the sky was overspread. Evidently motive power lay in the cloud
itself, for there was not a
breath of wind. Absolute calm reigned in the atmosphere;
not a leaf stirred on the tree, not a ripple disturbed the
surface of the water. There seemed to be scarcely any air
even, as though some vast pneumatic machine had rarefied
it. The entire atmosphere was charged to the utmost with
electricity, the presence of which sent a thrill through the
whole nervous system of all animated beings.
"We are going to have a storm," said Paganel.
"You're not afraid of thunder, are you, Robert?"
asked Glenarvan.
"No, my Lord!" exclaimed Robert.
"Well, my boy, so much the better, for a storm is not
far off."
"And a violent one, too," added Paganel, "if I may
judge by the look of things."
"It is not the storm I care about," said Glenarvan, "so
much as the torrents of rain that will accompany it. We
shall be soaked to the skin. Whatever you may say, Paganel, a nest won't do for
a man, and you will learn that
soon, to your cost."
"With the help of philosophy, it will," replied Paganel.
"Philosophy! that won't keep you from getting
drenched."
"No, but it will warm you."
"Well," said Glenarvan, "we had better go down to
our friends, and advise them to wrap themselves up in their
philosophy and their ponchos as tightly as possible, and
above all, to lay in a stock of patience, for we shall need it
before very long."
Glenarvan gave a last glance at the angry sky. The
clouds now covered it entirely; only a dim streak of light
shone faintly in the west. A dark shadow lay on the
water, and it could hardly be distinguished from the thick
vapors above it. There was no sensation of light or
sound. All was darkness and silence around.
"Let us go down," said Glenarvan; "the thunder will
soon burst over us."
On returning to the bottom of the tree, they found themselves, to their
great surprise, in a sort of dim twilight, produced by myriads of luminous
specks which appeared buzzing confusedly over the surface of the water.
"It is phosphorescence, I suppose," said Glenarvan.
"No, but phosphorescent insects, positive glow-worms,
living diamonds, which the ladies of Buenos Ayres convert into magnificent
ornaments."
"What!" exclaimed Robert, "those sparks flying about
are insects!"
"Yes, my boy."
Robert caught one in his hand, and found Paganel was
right. It was a kind of large drone, an inch long, and the
Indians call it "tuco-tuco." This curious specimen of the
coleoptera sheds its radiance from two spots in the front
of its breast-plate, and the light is sufficient to read by.
Holding his watch close to the insect, Paganel saw distinctly that the time was
10 P. M.
On rejoining the Major and his three sailors, Glenarvan
warned them of the approaching storm, and advised them to
secure themselves in their beds of branches as firmly as
possible, for there was no doubt that after the first clap
of thunder the wind would become unchained, and the
ombu would be violently shaken. Though they could not
defend themselves from the waters above, they might at
least keep out of the rushing current beneath.
They wished one another "good-night," though hardly
daring to hope for it, and then each one rolled himself in
his poncho and lay down to sleep.
But the approach of the great phenomena of nature excites vague
uneasiness in the heart of every sentient being,
even in the most strong-minded. The whole party in the
ombu felt agitated and oppressed, and not one of them
could close his eyes. The first peal of thunder found
them wide awake. It occurred about 11 P. M., and sounded
like a distant rolling. Glenarvan ventured to creep out
of the sheltering foliage, and made his way to the extremity of the horizontal
branch to take a look round.
The deep blackness of the night was already scarified
with sharp bright lines, which were reflected back by the
water with unerring exactness. The clouds had rent in
many parts, but noiselessly, like some soft cotton material.
After attentively observing both the zenith and horizon,
Glenarvan went back to the center of the trunk.
"Well, Glenarvan, what's your report?" asked Paganel.
"I say it is beginning in good earnest, and if it goes on
so we shall have a terrible storm."
"So much the better," replied the enthusiastic Paganel;
"I should like a grand exhibition, since we can't run
away."
"That's another of your theories," said the Major.
"And one of my best, McNabbs. I am of Glenarvan's
opinion, that the storm will be superb. Just a minute ago,
when I was trying to sleep, several facts occurred to my
memory, that make me hope it will, for we are in the region of great electrical
tempests. For instance, I have
read somewhere, that in 1793, in this very province of
Buenos Ayres, lightning struck thirty-seven times during
one single storm. My colleague, M. Martin de Moussy,
counted fifty-five minutes of uninterrupted rolling."
"Watch in hand?" asked the Major.
"Watch in hand. Only one thing makes me uneasy,"
added Paganel, "if it is any use to be uneasy, and that
is, that the culminating point of this plain, is just this
very ombu where we are. A lightning conductor would
be very serviceable to us at present. For it is this tree
especially, among all that grow in the Pampas, that the
thunder has a particular affection for. Besides, I need not
tell you, friend, that learned men tell us never to take refuge under trees
during a storm."
"Most seasonable advice, certainly, in our circumstances," said the
Major.
"I must confess, Paganel," replied Glenarvan, "that you
might have chosen a better time for this reassuring information."
"Bah!" replied Paganel, "all times are good for getting information. Ha!
now it's beginning."
Louder peals of thunder interrupted this inopportune
conversation, the violence increasing with the noise till the
whole atmosphere seemed to vibrate with rapid oscillations.
The incessant flashes of lightning took various forms.
Some darted down perpendicularly from the sky five or
six times in the same place in succession. Others would
have excited the interest of a savant to the highest degree,
for though Arago, in his curious statistics, only cites two
examples of forked lightning, it was visible here hundreds
of times. Some of the flashes branched out in a thousand different directions,
making coralliform zigzags, and
threw out wonderful jets of arborescent light.
Soon the whole sky from east to north seemed supported
by a phosphoric band of intense brilliancy. This kept increasing by degrees till
it overspread the entire horizon,
kindling the clouds which were faithfully mirrored in the
waters as if they were masses of combustible material,
beneath, and presented the appearance of an immense
globe of fire, the center of which was the ombu.
Glenarvan and his companions gazed silently at this
terrifying spectacle. They could not make their voices
heard, but the sheets of white light which enwrapped them
every now and then, revealed the face of one and another,
sometimes the calm features of the Major, sometimes the
eager, curious glance of Paganel, or the energetic face of
Glenarvan, and at others, the scared eyes of the terrified
Robert, and the careless looks of the sailors, investing
them with a weird, spectral aspect.
However, as yet, no rain had fallen, and the wind
had not risen in the least. But this state of things was of
short duration; before long the cataracts of the sky burst
forth, and came down in vertical streams. As the large
drops fell splashing into the lake, fiery sparks seemed to fly
out from the illuminated surface.
Was the rain the finale of the storm? If so, Glenarvan
and his companions would escape scot free, except for a
few vigorous douche baths. No. At the very height of
this struggle of the electric forces of the atmosphere, a
large ball of fire appeared suddenly at the extremity of the
horizontal parent branch, as thick as a man's wrist, and
surrounded with black smoke. This ball, after turning
round and round for a few seconds, burst like a bombshell, and with so much
noise that the explosion was distinctly audible above the general fracas.
A sulphurous
smoke filled the air, and complete silence reigned till the
voice of Tom Austin was heard shouting:
"The tree is on fire."
Tom was right. In a moment, as if some fireworks were
being ignited, the flame ran along the west side of the
ombu; the dead wood and nests of dried grass, and the
whole sap, which was of a spongy texture, supplied food
for its devouring activity.
The wind had risen now and fanned the flame. It was
time to flee, and Glenarvan and his party hurried away
to the eastern side of their refuge, which was meantime
untouched by the fire. They were all silent, troubled, and
terrified, as they watched branch after branch shrivel, and
crack, and writhe in the flame like living serpents, and
then drop into the swollen torrent, still red and gleaming, as
it was borne swiftly along on the rapid current. The
flames sometimes rose to a prodigious height, and seemed
almost lost in the atmosphere, and sometimes, beaten down
by the hurricane, closely enveloped the ombu like a robe of
Nessus. Terror seized the entire group. They were almost suffocated with smoke,
and scorched with the un
bearable heat, for the conflagration had already reached
the lower branches on their side of the
ombu. To extinguish it or check
its progress was impossible; and they
saw themselves irrevocably condemned to a torturing
death, like the victims of Hindoo divinities.
At last, their situation was absolutely intolerable. Of
the two deaths staring them in the face, they had better
choose the less cruel.
"To the water!" exclaimed Glenarvan.
Wilson, who was nearest the flames, had already plunged
into the lake, but next minute he screamed out in the most
violent terror:
"Help! Help!"
Austin rushed toward him, and with the assistance of
the Major, dragged him up again on the tree.
"What's the matter?" they asked.
"Alligators! alligators!" replied Wilson.
The whole foot of the tree appeared to be surrounded by
these formidable animals of the Saurian order. By the
glare of the flames, they were immediately recognized by
Paganel, as the ferocious species peculiar to America, called
Caimans in the Spanish territories. About ten of them
were there, lashing the water with their powerful tails, and
attacking the ombu with the long teeth of their lower jaw.
At this sight the unfortunate men gave themselves up
to be lost. A frightful death was in store for them, since
they must either be devoured by the fire or by the caimans.
Even the Major said, in a calm voice:
"This is the beginning of the end, now."
There are circumstances in which men are powerless,
when the unchained elements can only be combated by
other elements. Glenarvan gazed with haggard looks at
the fire and water leagued against him, hardly knowing
what deliverance to implore from Heaven.
The violence of the storm had abated, but it had developed in the
atmosphere a considerable quantity of vapors,
to which electricity was about to communicate immense
force. An enormous water-spout was gradually forming
in the south — a cone of thick mists, but with the point
at the bottom, and base at the top, linking together the
turbulent water and the angry clouds. This meteor soon
began to move forward, turning over and over on itself
with dizzy rapidity, and sweeping up into its center a column of water from the
lake, while its gyratory motions
made all the surrounding currents of air rush toward it.
A few seconds more, and the gigantic water-spout threw
itself on the ombu, and caught it up in its whirl. The
tree shook to its roots. Glenarvan could fancy the caimans' teeth were tearing
it up from the soil; for as he and
his companions held on, each clinging firmly to the other,
they felt the towering ombu give way, and the next minute
it fell right over with a terrible hissing noise, as the flaming
branches touched the foaming water.
It was the work of an instant. Already the water-spout
had passed, to carry on its destructive work elsewhere. It
seemed to empty the lake in its passage, by continually
drawing up the water into itself.
The ombu now began to drift rapidly along, impelled by
wind and current. All the caimans had taken their departure, except one that was
crawling over the upturned
roots, and coming toward the poor refugees with wide open
jaws. But Mulrady, seizing hold of a branch that was
half-burned off, struck the monster such a tremendous
blow, that it fell back into the torrent and disappeared,
lashing the water with its formidable tail.
Glenarvan and his companions being thus delivered from
the voracious saurians, stationed themselves on the branches
windward of the conflagration, while the ombu sailed along
like a blazing fire-ship through the dark night, the flames
spreading themselves round like sails before the breath
of the hurricane.