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31 - Around The World in Eighty Days - Jules Verne · Science Fiction Books

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  Chapter thirty one, in which Fixed the detective considerably furthers the interests of Phileas
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  Fogg. Phileas Fogg found himself twenty hours behind time passpartout. The involuntary cause
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  of this delay was desperate he had ruined his master. At this moment,
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  the detective approached mister Fogg, and, looking him intently in the face,
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  said, seriously, sir, are you in great haste? Quite seriously,
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  I have a purpose in asking, resumed Fix, Is it absolutely necessary that
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  you should be in New York on the eleventh before nine o'clock in the evening,
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  the time that the steamer leaves for Liverpool. It is absolutely necessary,
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  And if your journey had not been interrupted by these Indians, you would have
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  reached New York on the morning of the eleventh. Yes, with eleven hours
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  despair before the steamer left. Good. You are therefore twenty hours behind twelve
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  from twenty leaves eight, you must regain eight hours. Do you wish to
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  try to do so on foot? Asked mister Fogg. No on a sledge,
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  replied Fix, on a sledge with sails. A man has proposed such
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  a method to me. It was the man who had spoken to Fix during
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  the night, and whose offer he had refused. Phileas Fogg did not reply
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  at once, but Fix, having pointed out the man who was walking up
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  and down in front of the station, mister Fogg went up to him.
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  An instant after mister Fogg and the American, whose name was Mudge, entered
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  a hut built just below the fort. There mister Fogg examined a curious vehicle,
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  a kind of frame on two long beams, a little raised in front,
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  like the runners of a sledge, and upon which there was room for
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  five or six persons. A high mast was fixed on the frame, held
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  firmly by metallic lashings, to which was attached to large brigandine sail. This
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  mast held an iron stay upon which to hoist a jibsail behind a sort of
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  rudder served to guide the vehicle. It was, in short, a sledge
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  rigged like a sloop. During the winter, when the trains are blocked up
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  by the snow, these sledges make extremely rapid journeys across the frozen plains from
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  one station to another. Provided with more sails than a cutter, and with
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  the wind behind them, they slip over the surface of the prairies with a
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  speed equal, if not superior, to that of the express trains. Mister
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  Fogg readily made a bargain with the owner of this land craft. The wind
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  was favorable, being fresh and blowing from the west. The snow had hardened,
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  and Mudge was very confident of being able to transport mister Fogg in a
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  few hours to Omaha. Thence, the trains eastward run frequently to Chicago and
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  New York. It was not in possible that the lost time might yet be
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  recovered, and such an opportunity was not to be rejected. Not wishing to
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  expose Aouda to the discomforts of traveling in the open air, mister Fogg proposed
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  to leave her with Passepartout at Fort Kearney, the servant taking upon himself to
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  escort her to Europe by a better route and under more favorable conditions. But
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  Aouda refused to separate from mister Fogg, and Passepartout was delighted with her decision,
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  for nothing could induce him to leave his master. While fix was with
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  him, it would be difficult to guess the detective's thoughts. Was this conviction
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  shaken by phileas Fogg's return, or did he still regard him as an exceedingly
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  shrewd rascal who, his journey round the world completed, would think himself absolutely
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  safe in England. Perhaps Fix's opinion of Phileas Fogg was somewhat modified, but
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  it was nevertheless resolved to do his duty and to hasten the turn of the
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  whole party to England as much as possible. At eight o'clock the sledge was
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  ready to start. The passengers took their places on it and wrapped themselves up
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  closely in their traveling cloaks. The two great sails were hoisted, and under
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  the pressure of the wind, the sledge slid over the hardened snow with a
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  velocity of forty miles an hour. The distance between Fort Kearney and Omaha,
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  as the birds fly, is at most two hundred miles. If the wind
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  held good, the distance might be traversed in five hours. If no accident
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  happened, the sledge might reach Omaha by one o'clock. What a journey.
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  The travelers, huddled close together, could not speak for the cold, intensified
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  by the rapidity of which they were going. The sledge sped on as lightly
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  as a boat over the waves. When the breeze came skimming over the earth,
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  the sledge seemed to be lifted off the ground by its sails. Mudge,
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  who was at the rudder, kept in a straight line, and by
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  a turn of his hand, checked the lurches which the vehicle had a tendency
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  to make. All the sails were up, and the jib was so arranged
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  as not to screen the brigantine. A top mast was hoisted, and another
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  jib held out to the wind, added its force to the other sails.
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  Although the speed could not be exactly estimated, the sledge could not be going
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  at less than forty miles an hour. If nothing breaks, said Mudge,
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  we shall get there. Mister Fogg had made it for Mudge's interest to reach
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  Omaha within the time agreed upon by the offer of a handsome reward. The
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  prairie across which the sledge was moving in a straight line was as flat as
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  a sea. It seemed like a vast frozen lake. The railroad which ran
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  through this section ascended from the southwest to the northwest by Great Island, Columbus,
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  an important Nebraska town Schuyler, and Fremont to Omaha. It followed throughout
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  the right bank of the Platte River. The sledge, shortening this route,
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  took a cord of the ark described by the railway. Mudge was not afraid
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  of being stopped by the Platte River because it was frozen. The road then
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  was quite clear of obstacles and phileas. Fogg had but two things to fear,
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  an accident to the sledge, and a change or calm in the wind.
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  But the breeze, far from lessening its force, blew as if to
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  bend the mast, which, however, the metallic lashings held firmly. These
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  lashings, like the cords of a stringed instrument, resounded as if vibrated by
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  a vile inbow. The sledge slid along in the midst of a plaintively intense
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  melody. Those cords give the fifth and the octave, said mister Fogg.
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  These were the only words he uttered during the journey. Aouda, cozily packed
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  in furs and cloaks, was sheltered as much as possible from the atape of
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  the freezing wind. As for passpartout. His face was as red as the
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  sun's disc when it sets in the mist, and he laboriously inhaled the biting
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  air with his natural buoyancy of spirits. He began to hope again they would
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  reach New York in the evening, if not on the morning of the eleventh,
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  and there was still some chances that it would be before the steamer sailed
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  for Liverpool. Passpartout even felt a strong desire to grasp his ally fix by
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  the hand. He remembered that it was the detective who procured the sledge the
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  only means of reaching Omaha in time, But checked by some presentiment, he
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  kept his usual reserve. One thing, however, Passepartout would never forget,
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  and that was the sacrifice which mister Fogg had made without hesitation, to rescue
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  him from the Sioux. Mister Fogg had risked his fortune and his life.
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  No, his servant would never forget that. While each of the party was
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  absorbed in reflections so different, the sledge flew past over the vast carpet of
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  snow. The creeks it passed over were not perceived. Fields and streams disappeared
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  under the uniform whiteness. The plain was absolutely deserted. Between the Union Pacific
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  Road and the branch which unites Kearney with Saint Joseph had formed a great uninhabited
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  island. Neither village, station nor fort appeared. From time to time they
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  sped by some phantomlike tree, whose white skeleton twisted and rattled in the wind.
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  Sometimes flocks of wild birds rose, or bands of gaunt famished. Ferocious
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  prairie wolves ran howling. After the sledge. Passepartout, revolver in hand,
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  held himself ready to fire on those which came too near. Had an accident
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  then happened to the sledge. The travelers attacked by these bees easts would have
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  been in the most terrible danger, but it held on its even course,
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  soon gained on the wolves, and ere long left the howling band at a
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  safe distance behind. About noon, Mudge perceived by certain landmarks that he was
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  crossing the Platte River. He said nothing, but he felt certain that he
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  was now within twenty miles of Omaha in less than an hour. He left
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  the rudder and furled his sails. Whilst the sledge, carried forward by the
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  great impetus the wind had given. It went on half a mile further,
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  with its sails unspread. It stopped at last, and Mudge, pointing to
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  a mass of roofs white with snow, said, we have got there.
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  Arrived, arrived at the station, which is in daily communication by numerous trains
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  with the Atlantic seaboard. Passepartout and Fix jumped off, stretched their stiffened limbs
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  and aided mister Fogg and the young woman to descend from the sledge phileas.
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  Fogg generously rewarded Mudge, whose hand Passepartout warmly grasped, and the party directed
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  their steps to the Omaha Railway station. The Pacific Railroad proper finds its terminus
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  at this important Nebraska town. Omaha is connected with Chicago by the Chicago and
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  Rock Island Railroad, which runs directly east and passes fifty stations. A train
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  was ready to start when mister Fogg and his party reached the station, and
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  they only had time to get into the cars. They had seen nothing of
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  Omaha, but Passepartou confessed to himself that this was not to be regretted,
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  as they were not traveling to see the sites. The train passed rapidly across
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  the state of Iowa by Council Bluffs, Des Moines and Iowa City. During
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  the night, it crossed the Mississippi at Davenport, and by Rock Island entered
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  Illinois the next day, which was the tenth. At four o'clock in the
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  evening, it reached Chicago, already risen from its ruins and more proudly seated
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  than ever on the borders of its beautiful Lake Michigan. Nine hundred miles separated
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  Chicago from New York. But trains are not wanting at Chicago. Mister Fogg
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  passed at once from one to the other, and the locomotive of the Pittsburgh,
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  Fort Wayne and Chicago Railway left at full speed, as if it fully
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  comprehended that that gentleman had no time to lose. It traversed Indiana, Ohio,
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  Pennsylvania, and New Jersey like a flash, rushing through towns with antique
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  names, some of which had streets and car tracks, but as yet no
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  houses. At last, the Hudson came into view, and at a quarter
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  past eleven in the evening of the eleventh, the train stopped in the station
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  on the right bank of the river before the very pier of the Cunard line.
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  The China for Liverpool had started three quarters of an hour by four end of chapter