第29章

In which various incidents will be recounted that could only have occurred on a railroad in America

That same evening the train continued its journey unhindered, got beyond Fort Saunders, crossed the Cheyenne Pass and reached Evans Pass. It was here that the railroad reached its highest point, 8,091 feet above sea level. All that remained was for the travellers to go on down to the Atlantic over those endless plains that nature has levelled flat.

This was also where the great trunk line branched off to Denver City, the largest town in Colorado. This territory is rich in gold and silver mines, and more than 50,000 people have already settled there.

By then they had covered 1,382 miles since San Francisco and it had taken them three days and three nights. Four days and four nights should be enough, according to the best estimates, to reach New York. Phileas Fogg was therefore still within his deadline.

During the night the train went past Camp Walbach to its left. Lodge Pole Creek ran parallel to the railway line, along the border that runs in a straight line between the states of Wyoming and Colorado. At eleven o’clock it entered Nebraska, passed close to Sedgwick and reached Julesberg, which is situated on the South Platte River.

It is here that the Union Pacific Railroad, whose chief engineer was General G. M. Dodge,1 was inaugurated on 23 October 1867. This was where the two powerful locomotives stopped on that day, pulling their nine carriages of distinguished guests, including the vice-president of the railroad, Mr Thomas C. Durant.2 This was where the crowd gathered and cheered and where the Sioux and Pawnees gave a demonstration of their fighting skills. This was where they held a firework display and, lastly, where they published the first issue of the Railway Pioneer magazine by means of a portable printing press. This was how they celebrated the inauguration of this great railway, an instrument of progress and civilization, which conquered the wilderness and was destined to link up towns and cities that hadn’t yet been built. The locomotive’s whistle, more powerful than Amphion’s lyre,3 would soon make them spring up on American soil.

At eight o’clock in the morning the train left behind Fort McPherson. Omaha was 357 miles away. The railway line followed the left bank of the South Platte River, with all its unpredictable twists and turns. At nine o’clock the train reached the important town of North Platte, built between the two branches of this great river, which then join up around the town to form a single waterway, an important tributary whose waters flow into the Missouri a short distance above Omaha.

They had crossed the hundred and first meridian.

Mr Fogg and his partners had started playing cards again. None of them complained about the length of the journey, not even the dummy. At the beginning Fix won a few guineas, which he was in the process of losing again, but he was just as keen on the game as Mr Fogg. During the morning the gentleman had been unusually lucky. He kept receiving trumps and honours in his hands. At one point, after thinking up a daring move, he was preparing to play spades when from behind where he was sitting he heard a voice say:

‘If it was me I’d play diamonds.’

Mr Fogg, Mrs Aouda and Fix looked up. Colonel Proctor was standing next to them. Stamp W. Proctor and Phileas Fogg recognized each other immediately.

‘Oh. It’s you, the Englishman!’ exclaimed the colonel. ‘You’re the one who wants to play spades!’

‘And that’s exactly what I’m about to do,’ Phileas Fogg replied coldly, putting down a ten of that suit.

‘Well, I think it should be a diamond,’ retorted the colonel in an annoyed tone of voice.

And for a moment it looked as if he was going to grab the card that had been played, adding, ‘You haven’t a clue about this game.’

‘Perhaps I’ll be better at another sort of game,’ said Phileas Fogg, getting to his feet.

‘It’s just up to you if you want to try, you bloody Englishman,’ the vulgar character replied.

Mrs Aouda had become very pale. She looked as if she was going to faint. She had grabbed Mr Fogg by the arm, but he gently pushed her back. Passepartout was ready to throw himself at the American, who was giving his opponent a very dirty look. But Fix had got to his feet, went over to Colonel Proctor, saying, ‘You’re forgetting that I’m the one you have to deal with, my dear sir. I’m the one you not only insulted but hit!’

‘Mr Fix,’ said Mr Fogg, ‘I beg your pardon, but this matter concerns only me. By claiming that I was wrong to play spades the colonel has insulted me a second time, and he will have to answer for it.’

‘Whenever you like and wherever you like,’ replied the American, ‘and you can choose the weapon.’

Mrs Aouda attempted in vain to restrain Mr Fogg. The inspector tried unsuccessfully to bring the argument back to himself. Passepartout wanted to throw the colonel out through the door, but a sign from his master stopped him. Phileas Fogg went out of the carriage and the American followed him on to the platform.

‘Sir,’ Mr Fogg said to his opponent, ‘I am in a great hurry to return to Europe and any delay would have serious consequences for me.’

‘So, what’s that got to do with me?’ retorted Colonel Proctor.

‘Sir,’ Mr Fogg replied very politely, ‘after our encounter in San Francisco I had planned to return to America to meet up with you again as soon as I’d sorted out the matters that require my attention back in the Old World.’

‘Really?’

‘Will you agree to meet me in six months’ time?’

‘Why not in that case six years?’

‘I said six months,’ answered Mr Fogg, ‘and I shall be there exactly on time.’

‘You’re just looking for excuses,’ exclaimed Stamp W. Proctor. ‘It’s now or never.’

‘Very well,’ replied Mr Fogg. ‘Are you going to New York?’

‘No.’

‘To Chicago?’

‘No.’

‘To Omaha?’

‘That’s nothing to do with you. Do you know Plum Creek?’

‘No,’ answered Mr Fogg.

‘It’s the next station. The train will be there in an hour’s time. It stops for ten minutes. Ten minutes is enough time to exchange a few shots with a revolver.’

‘Fine,’ replied Mr Fogg. ‘I’ll get off at Plum Creek.’

‘And I reckon you won’t be getting back on again!’ added the American, with breath-taking insolence.

‘Who knows, my dear sir,’ answered Mr Fogg, and he went back into the carriage, looking as unemotional as usual.

Once he was inside, the first thing he did was to reassure Mrs Aouda by saying that loudmouths were never people to be afraid of. Then he asked Fix to act as his second in the encounter that was to take place. Fix couldn’t say no, and Phileas Fogg then calmly went back to the unfinished game of cards and quite nonchalantly played spades.

At eleven o’clock, the locomotive blew its whistle to announce that they were about to arrive in Plum Creek. Mr Fogg got up and, with Fix following him, went on to the platform. Passepartout accompanied him, carrying a pair of revolvers. Mrs Aouda remained inside the carriage, looking as pale as death.

At that moment the door of the other carriage opened and Colonel Proctor also appeared on the platform, followed by his second, a Yankee in the same mould, but just as the two protagonists were about to go down on to the track, the conductor rushed up to them, shouting, ‘You mustn’t get out, gentlemen.’

‘And why not?’ asked the colonel.

‘We’re twenty minutes late; so the train isn’t stopping.’

‘But I need to fight this gentleman.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said the official, ‘but we are leaving again immediately. You can hear the bell ringing now.’

The bell was indeed ringing and the train set off again.

‘I really am very sorry, gentlemen,’ the conductor then said. ‘In any other circumstances I could have obliged. But, after all, since you haven’t had time to fight it out here, what’s to stop you from doing so when the train’s on the move?’

‘Perhaps that wouldn’t suit sir!’ Colonel Proctor said with a sneer.

‘That suits me perfectly,’ replied Fogg.

‘Well, this really is America for you,’ thought Passepartout, ‘and this train conductor is a real gentleman!’

With this he followed his master.

The two protagonists and their seconds, preceded by the conductor, walked through the carriages until they reached the back of the train. There were only about a dozen passengers in the last carriage. The conductor asked them if they would be so kind as to vacate the area for a few moments to enable two gentlemen to settle a matter of honour.

Why, of course! The passengers were only too happy to oblige the two gentlemen and so they withdrew on to the platforms.

The carriage, which was about fifty feet long, was ideal for the purpose. The two protagonists could advance upon each other between the seats and could blunderbuss each other at leisure. There had never been an easier duel to arrange. Mr Fogg and Colonel Proctor, each equipped with two six-chamber revolvers, entered the carriage. Their seconds, who remained outside, locked them in. At the first blast on the whistle they were to begin firing. Then after a period of two minutes what remained of the two gentlemen would be removed from the carriage.

There really could be nothing simpler. It was even so simple that Fix and Passepartout felt their hearts beating as if they were going to burst.

So they were waiting for the agreed signal on the whistle when suddenly wild shouts rang out, accompanied by the sound of firing, but it was not coming from the carriage reserved for the duellists. The firing ran instead along the whole length of the train down to the front. Screams of terror could be heard coming from inside the train.

Colonel Proctor and Mr Fogg, with revolvers at the ready, immediately left the carriage and rushed towards the front of the train, where the loudest noises of firing and shouting were coming from.

They had realized that the train was being attacked by a band of Sioux warriors.

This was certainly not the first time members of this daring tribe had attempted to attack, and already, on more than one occasion they had held up trains. Following their usual plan and without waiting for the train to come to a standstill, about a hundred of them had leapt on to the footboards and clambered on to the carriages like circus clowns jumping on to galloping horses.

The Sioux were equipped with rifles. Hence the noise of firing to which the passengers, almost all of whom were armed, replied by using their revolvers. At first the warriors had stormed the engine. The driver and the fireman had been hit with clubs and were only semi-conscious. A Sioux chief attempted to stop the train, but because he didn’t know how to operate the throttle control he had opened up the steam instead of closing it and the runaway train was rushing ahead at a terrifying speed.

At the same time the Sioux had swarmed on to the carriages and were running along the roofs like enraged monkeys, knocking down the doors and engaging in hand-to-hand combat with the passengers. The luggage van had been broken into and ransacked, and the contents strewn along the track. The shouting and firing kept on and on. However, the passengers defended themselves with great courage. Somecarriages, with their passengers barricaded inside, withstood the siege like mobile forts that were being carried along at a speed of a hundred miles per hour.

From the moment the attack had begun Mrs Aouda had behaved courageously. With a revolver in her hand she defended herself heroically, firing through the broken window, whenever a savage appeared in front of her. About twenty fatally wounded Sioux had fallen on to the line and the wheels of the carriages squashed like worms those who slid from the platforms on to the rails. Several passengers, who had been seriously injured by the bullets or the clubs, were lying on the seats.

However, things couldn’t go on like this. The fighting had already raged for ten minutes and the Sioux would inevitably be the victors if the train didn’t come to a stop. The station at Fort Kearney was less than two miles away and contained an American garrison, but after that the Sioux would be in complete control of the train until the next station along the line.

The conductor was fighting next to Mr Fogg when he was struck by a bullet. As he fell down he cried out, ‘We’ve had it if the train doesn’t stop within the next five minutes.’

‘It will stop!’ said Phileas Fogg, eager to rush out of the carriage.

‘Stay here, sir,’ Passepartout shouted to him. ‘I’m the one for this!’

Phileas Fogg had no time to stop the brave fellow, who opened the door without being seen by the Sioux and managed to slide below the carriage. And then, while the fighting continued and the bullets flew in all directions above his head, with all the old agility and nimbleness of his time in the circus, he slithered along under the carriages. Holding on to the chains, using to support himself the brake levers and the underframes of the carriages, crawling with great skill from one carriage to the next, he succeeded in reaching the front of the train. He hadn’t been seen. He couldn’t have been.

Hanging by one hand between the luggage van and the tender, he used his other hand to unhook the safety chains, but because of the force of traction he would never have managed to undo the coupling-pin if a sudden jolt of the engine hadn’t released it, so that the carriages, detached from the engine, were gradually left behind, while the locomotive sped ahead even faster.

Carried along by its own momentum, the train continued to advance for a few more minutes, but the brakes were applied from inside the carriages and the train at last came to a standstill, less than a hundred yards from the station in Kearney.

There the noise of the firing had alerted the soldiers, who came running towards the train. The Sioux hadn’t waited for them and, before the train had come to a complete halt, the whole band had cleared off.

But when the passengers checked if they were all there, as they stood on the station platform, they realized that several of their number were missing, and one of those was the brave Frenchman to whose selflessness they owed their lives.