BY eight in the evening, the country, as the state of the sky had foretold1, was enveloped2 in complete darkness. The moon being new had not yet risen. From the middle of the river the banks were invisible. The cliffs were confounded with the heavy, low-hanging clouds. At intervals3 a puff4 of wind came from the east, but it soon died away in the narrow valley of the Angara.
The darkness could not fail to favor in a considerable degree the plans of the fugitives5. Indeed, although the Tartar outposts must have been drawn6 up on both banks, the raft had a good chance of passing unperceived. It was not likely either that the besiegers would have barred the river above Irkutsk, since they knew that the Russians could not expect any help from the south of the province. Besides this, before long Nature would herself establish a barrier, by cementing with frost the blocks of ice accumulated between the two banks.
Perfect silence now reigned7 on board the raft. The voices of the pilgrims were no longer heard. They still prayed, but their prayer was but a murmur8, which could not reach as far as either bank. The fugitives lay flat on the platform, so that the raft was scarcely above the level of the water. The old boatman crouched9 down forward among his men, solely10 occupied in keeping off the ice blocks, a maneuver11 which was performed without noise.
The drifting of the ice was a favorable circumstance so long as it did not offer an insurmountable obstacle to the passage of the raft. If that object had been alone on the water, it would have run a risk of being seen, even in the darkness, but, as it was, it was confounded with these moving masses, of all shapes and sizes, and the tumult12 caused by the crashing of the blocks against each other concealed13 likewise any suspicious noises.
There was a sharp frost. The fugitives suffered cruelly, having no other shelter than a few branches of birch. They cowered14 down together, endeavoring to keep each other warm, the temperature being now ten degrees below freezing point. The wind, though slight, having passed over the snow-clad mountains of the east, pierced them through and through.
Michael and Nadia, lying in the afterpart of the raft, bore this increase of suffering without complaint. Jolivet and Blount, placed near them, stood these first assaults of the Siberian winter as well as they could. No one now spoke15, even in a low voice. Their situation entirely16 absorbed them. At any moment an incident might occur, which they could not escape unscathed.
For a man who hoped soon to accomplish his mission, Michael was singularly calm. Even in the gravest conjunctures, his energy had never abandoned him. He already saw the moment when he would be at last allowed to think of his mother, of Nadia, of himself! He now only dreaded17 one final unhappy chance; this was, that the raft might be completely barred by ice before reaching Irkutsk. He thought but of this, determined18 beforehand, if necessary, to attempt some bold stroke.
Restored by a few hours’ rest, Nadia had regained19 the physical energy which misery20 had sometimes overcome, although without ever having shaken her moral energy. She thought, too, that if Michael had to make any fresh effort to attain21 his end, she must be there to guide him. But in proportion as she drew nearer to Irkutsk, the image of her father rose more and more clearly before her mind. She saw him in the invested town, far from those he loved, but, as she never doubted, struggling against the invaders22 with all the spirit of his patriotism23. In a few hours, if Heaven favored them, she would be in his arms, giving him her mother’s last words, and nothing should ever separate them again. If the term of Wassili Fedor’s exile should never come to an end, his daughter would remain exiled with him. Then, by a natural transition, she came back to him who would have enabled her to see her father once more, to that generous companion, that “brother,” who, the Tartars driven back, would retake the road to Moscow, whom she would perhaps never meet again!
As to Alcide Jolivet and Harry24 Blount, they had one and the same thought, which was, that the situation was extremely dramatic, and that, well worked up, it would furnish a most deeply interesting article. The Englishman thought of the readers of the Daily Telegraph, and the Frenchman of those of his Cousin Madeleine. At heart, both were not without feeling some emotion.
“Well, so much the better!” thought Alcide Jolivet, “to move others, one must be moved one’s self! I believe there is some celebrated25 verse on the subject, but hang me if I can recollect26 it!” And with his well-practiced eyes he endeavored to pierce the gloom of the river.
Every now and then a burst of light dispelling27 the darkness for a time, exhibited the banks under some fantastic aspect — either a forest on fire, or a still burning village. The Angara was occasionally illuminated28 from one bank to the other. The blocks of ice formed so many mirrors, which, reflecting the flames on every point and in every color, were whirled along by the caprice of the current. The raft passed unperceived in the midst of these floating masses.
The danger was not at these points.
But a peril29 of another nature menaced the fugitives. One that they could not foresee, and, above all, one that they could not avoid. Chance discovered it to Alcide Jolivet in this way:— Lying at the right side of the raft, he let his hand hang over into the water. Suddenly he was surprised by the impression made on it by the current. It seemed to be of a slimy consistency30, as if it had been made of mineral oil. Alcide, aiding his touch by his sense of smell, could not be mistaken. It was really a layer of liquid naphtha, floating on the surface of the river!
Was the raft really floating on this substance, which is in the highest degree combustible31? Where had this naphtha come from? Was it a natural phenomenon taking place on the surface of the Angara, or was it to serve as an engine of destruction, put in motion by the Tartars? Did they intend to carry conflagration32 into Irkutsk?
Such were the questions which Alcide asked himself, but he thought it best to make this incident known only to Harry Blount, and they both agreed in not alarming their companions by revealing to them this new danger.
It is known that the soil of Central Asia is like a sponge impregnated with liquid hydrogen. At the port of Bakou, on the Persian frontier, on the Caspian Sea, in Asia Minor33, in China, on the Yuen-Kiang, in the Burman Empire, springs of mineral oil rise in thousands to the surface of the ground. It is an “oil country,” similar to the one which bears this name in North America.
During certain religious festivals, principally at the port of Bakou, the natives, who are fire-worshipers, throw liquid naphtha on the surface of the sea, which buoys34 it up, its density35 being inferior to that of water. Then at nightfall, when a layer of mineral oil is thus spread over the Caspian, they light it, and exhibit the matchless spectacle of an ocean of fire undulating and breaking into waves under the breeze.
But what is only a sign of rejoicing at Bakou, might prove a fearful disaster on the waters of the Angara. Whether it was set on fire by malevolence36 or imprudence, in the twinkling of an eye a conflagration might spread beyond Irkutsk. On board the raft no imprudence was to be feared; but everything was to be dreaded from the conflagrations37 on both banks of the Angara, for should a lighted straw or even a spark blow into the water, it would inevitably38 set the whole current of naphtha in a blaze.
The apprehensions39 of Jolivet and Blount may be better understood than described. Would it not be prudent40, in face of this new danger, to land on one of the banks and wait there? “At any rate,” said Alcide, “whatever the danger may be, I know some one who will not land!”
He alluded41 to Michael Strogoff.
In the meantime, on glided42 the raft among the masses of ice which were gradually getting closer and closer together. Up till then, no Tartar detachment had been seen, which showed that the raft was not abreast44 of the outposts. At about ten o’clock, however, Harry Blount caught sight of a number of black objects moving on the ice blocks. Springing from one to the other, they rapidly approached.
“Tartars!” he thought. And creeping up to the old boatman, he pointed45 out to him the suspicious objects.
The old man looked attentively46. “They are only wolves!” said he. “I like them better than Tartars. But we must defend ourselves, and without noise!”
The fugitives would indeed have to defend themselves against these ferocious48 beasts, whom hunger and cold had sent roaming through the province. They had smelt49 out the raft, and would soon attack it. The fugitives must struggle without using firearms, for they could not now be far from the Tartar posts. The women and children were collected in the middle of the raft, and the men, some armed with poles, others with their knives, stood prepared to repulse50 their assailants. They did not make a sound, but the howls of the wolves filled the air.
Michael did not wish to remain inactive. He lay down at the side attacked by the savage51 pack. He drew his knife, and every time that a wolf passed within his reach, his hand found out the way to plunge52 his weapon into its throat. Neither were Jolivet and Blount idle, but fought bravely with the brutes53. Their companions gallantly54 seconded them. The battle was carried on in silence, although many of the fugitives received severe bites.
The struggle did not appear as if it would soon terminate. The pack was being continually reinforced from the right bank of the Angara. “This will never be finished!” said Alcide, brandishing55 his dagger56, red with blood.
In fact, half an hour after the commencement of the attack, the wolves were still coming in hundreds across the ice. The exhausted57 fugitives were getting weaker. The fight was going against them. At that moment, a group of ten huge wolves, raging with hunger, their eyes glowing in the darkness like red coals, sprang onto the raft. Jolivet and his companion threw themselves into the midst of the fierce beasts, and Michael was finding his way towards them, when a sudden change took place.
In a few moments the wolves had deserted58 not only the raft, but also the ice on the river. All the black bodies dispersed59, and it was soon certain that they had in all haste regained the shore. Wolves, like other beasts of prey60, require darkness for their proceedings61, and at that moment a bright light illuminated the entire river.
It was the blaze of an immense fire. The whole of the small town of Poshkavsk was burning. The Tartars were indeed there, finishing their work. From this point, they occupied both banks beyond Irkutsk. The fugitives had by this time reached the dangerous part of their voyage, and they were still twenty miles from the capital.
It was now half past eleven. The raft continued to glide43 on amongst the ice, with which it was quite mingled62, but gleams of light sometimes fell upon it. The fugitives stretched on the platform did not permit themselves to make a movement by which they might be betrayed.
The conflagration was going on with frightful63 rapidity. The houses, built of fir-wood, blazed like torches — a hundred and fifty flaming at once. With the crackling of the fire was mingled the yells of the Tartars. The old boatman, getting a foothold on a near piece of ice, managed to shove the raft towards the right bank, by doing which a distance of from three to four hundred feet divided it from the flames of Poshkavsk.
Nevertheless, the fugitives, lighted every now and then by the glare, would have been undoubtedly64 perceived had not the incendiaries been too much occupied in their work of destruction.
It may be imagined what were the apprehensions of Jolivet and Blount, when they thought of the combustible liquid on which the raft floated. Sparks flew in millions from the houses, which resembled so many glowing furnaces. They rose among the volumes of smoke to a height of five or six hundred feet. On the right bank, the trees and cliffs exposed to the fire looked as if they likewise were burning. A spark falling on the surface of the Angara would be sufficient to spread the flames along the current, and to carry disaster from one bank to the other. The result of this would be in a short time the destruction of the raft and of all those which it carried.
But, happily, the breeze did not blow from that side. It came from the east, and drove the flames towards the left. It was just possible that the fugitives would escape this danger. The blazing town was at last passed. Little by little the glare grew dimmer, the crackling became fainter, and the flames at last disappeared behind the high cliffs which arose at an abrupt65 turn of the river.
By this time it was nearly midnight. The deep gloom again threw its protecting shadows over the raft. The Tartars were there, going to and fro near the river. They could not be seen, but they could be heard. The fires of the outposts burned brightly.
In the meantime it had become necessary to steer66 more carefully among the blocks of ice. The old boatman stood up, and the moujiks resumed their poles. They had plenty of work, the management of the raft becoming more and more difficult as the river was further obstructed67.
Michael had crept forward; Jolivet followed; both listened to what the old boatman and his men were saying.
“Look out on the right!”
“There are blocks drifting on to us on the left!”
“Fend47! fend off with your boat-hook!”
“Before an hour is past we shall be stopped!”
“If it is God’s will!” answered the old man. “Against His will there is nothing to be done.”
“You hear them,” said Alcide.
“Yes,” replied Michael, “but God is with us!”
The situation became more and more serious. Should the raft be stopped, not only would the fugitives not reach Irkutsk, but they would be obliged to leave their floating platform, for it would be very soon smashed to pieces in the ice. The osier ropes would break, the fir trunks torn asunder68 would drift under the hard crust, and the unhappy people would have no refuge but the ice blocks themselves. Then, when day came, they would be seen by the Tartars, and massacred without mercy!
Michael returned to the spot where Nadia was waiting for him. He approached the girl, took her hand, and put to her the invariable question: “Nadia, are you ready?” to which she replied as usual, “I am ready!”
For a few versts more the raft continued to drift amongst the floating ice. Should the river narrow, it would soon form an impassable barrier. Already they seemed to drift slower. Every moment they encountered severe shocks or were compelled to make detours69; now, to avoid running foul70 of a block, there to enter a channel, of which it was necessary to take advantage. At length the stoppages became still more alarming. There were only a few more hours of night. Could the fugitives not reach Irkutsk by five o’clock in the morning, they must lose all hope of ever getting there at all.
At half-past one, notwithstanding all efforts, the raft came up against a thick barrier and stuck fast. The ice, which was drifting down behind it, pressed it still closer, and kept it motionless, as though it had been stranded71.
At this spot the Angara narrowed, it being half its usual breadth. This was the cause of the accumulation of ice, which became gradually soldered72 together, under the double influence of the increased pressure and of the cold. Five hundred feet beyond, the river widened again, and the blocks, gradually detaching themselves from the floe73, continued to drift towards Irkutsk. It was probable that had the banks not narrowed, the barrier would not have formed. But the misfortune was irreparable, and the fugitives must give up all hope of attaining74 their object.
Had they possessed75 the tools usually employed by whalers to cut channels through the ice-fields — had they been able to get through to where the river widened — they might have been saved. But they had nothing which could make the least incision76 in the ice, hard as granite77 in the excessive frost. What were they to do?
At that moment several shots on the right bank startled the unhappy fugitives. A shower of balls fell on the raft. The devoted78 passengers had been seen. Immediately afterwards shots were heard fired from the left bank. The fugitives, taken between two fires, became the mark of the Tartar sharpshooters. Several were wounded, although in the darkness it was only by chance that they were hit.
“Come, Nadia,” whispered Michael in the girl’s ear.
Without making a single remark, “ready for anything,” Nadia took Michael’s hand.
“We must cross the barrier,” he said in a low tone. “Guide me, but let no one see us leave the raft.”
Nadia obeyed. Michael and she glided rapidly over the floe in the obscurity, only broken now and again by the flashes from the muskets79. Nadia crept along in front of Michael. The shot fell around them like a tempest of hail, and pattered on the ice. Their hands were soon covered with blood from the sharp and rugged80 ice over which they clambered, but still on they went.
In ten minutes, the other side of the barrier was reached. There the waters of the Angara again flowed freely. Several pieces of ice, detached gradually from the floe, were swept along in the current down towards the town. Nadia guessed what Michael wished to attempt. One of the blocks was only held on by a narrow strip.
“Come,” said Nadia. And the two crouched on the piece of ice, which their weight detached from the floe.
It began to drift. The river widened, the way was open. Michael and Nadia heard the shots, the cries of distress81, the yells of the Tartars. Then, little by little, the sounds of agony and of ferocious joy grew faint in the distance.
“Our poor companions!” murmured Nadia.
For half an hour the current hurried along the block of ice which bore Michael and Nadia. They feared every moment that it would give way beneath them. Swept along in the middle of the current, it was unnecessary to give it an oblique82 direction until they drew near the quays83 of Irkutsk. Michael, his teeth tight set, his ear on the strain, did not utter a word. Never had he been so near his object. He felt that he was about to attain it!
Towards two in the morning a double row of lights glittered on the dark horizon in which were confounded the two banks of the Angara. On the right hand were the lights of Irkutsk; on the left, the fires of the Tartar camp.
Michael Strogoff was not more than half a verst from the town. “At last!” he murmured.
But suddenly Nadia uttered a cry.
At the cry Michael stood up on the ice, which was wavering. His hand was extended up the Angara. His face, on which a bluish light cast a peculiar84 hue85, became almost fearful to look at, and then, as if his eyes had been opened to the bright blaze spreading across the river, “Ah!” he exclaimed, “then Heaven itself is against us!”
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1
foretold
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| v.预言，预示( foretell的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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fugitives
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| n.亡命者，逃命者( fugitive的名词复数 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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maneuver
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| n.策略[pl.]演习；v.(巧妙)控制；用策略 | |
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tumult
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| n.喧哗；激动，混乱；吵闹 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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attain
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| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
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invaders
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| 入侵者，侵略者，侵入物( invader的名词复数 ) | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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dispelling
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的现在分词 ) | |
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illuminated
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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consistency
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| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
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combustible
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| a. 易燃的,可燃的; n. 易燃物,可燃物 | |
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conflagration
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| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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buoys
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| n.浮标( buoy的名词复数 )；航标；救生圈；救生衣v.使浮起( buoy的第三人称单数 )；支持；为…设浮标；振奋…的精神 | |
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density
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| n.密集，密度，浓度 | |
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malevolence
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| n.恶意，狠毒 | |
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conflagrations
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| n.大火（灾）( conflagration的名词复数 ) | |
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inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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glide
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| n./v.溜，滑行；(时间)消逝 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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fend
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| v.照料（自己），（自己）谋生，挡开，避开 | |
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ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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repulse
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| n.击退，拒绝；vt.逐退，击退，拒绝 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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52
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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brandishing
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| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
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dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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obstructed
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| 阻塞( obstruct的过去式和过去分词 )； 堵塞； 阻碍； 阻止 | |
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asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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detours
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| 绕行的路( detour的名词复数 )； 绕道，兜圈子 | |
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foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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soldered
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| v.（使）焊接，焊合( solder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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floe
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| n.大片浮冰 | |
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attaining
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的现在分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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incision
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| n．切口，切开 | |
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granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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muskets
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| n.火枪，（尤指）滑膛枪( musket的名词复数 ) | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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oblique
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| adj.斜的，倾斜的，无诚意的，不坦率的 | |
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quays
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| 码头( quay的名词复数 ) | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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