Passepartout Fails to Make Anyone Listen to Reason

The train, on leaving Great Salt Lake at Ogden, passed northward for an hour as far as Weber River, having completed nearly nine hundred miles from San Francisco. From this point it took an easterly direction towards the jagged Wahsatch Mountains. It was in the section included between this range and the Rocky Mountains that the American engineers found the most formidable difficulties in laying the road, and that the government granted a subsidy of forty-eight thousand dollars per mile, instead of sixteen thousand allowed for the work done on the plains. But the engineers, instead of violating nature, avoided its difficulties by winding around, instead of penetrating the rocks. One tunnel only, fourteen thousand feet in length, was pierced in order to arrive at the great basin.

After leaving Great Salt Lake at Ogden, the train traveled north for an hour, reaching the Weber River. It had now covered nearly nine hundred miles from San Francisco. From there, the train turned east toward the jagged Wahsatch Mountains. American engineers faced their greatest difficulties building the railroad between this range and the Rocky Mountains. For this section, the government granted a subsidy of forty-eight thousand dollars per mile, instead of the sixteen thousand allowed for work on the plains. But rather than cut through the rocks, the engineers avoided these obstacles by winding around them. Only one tunnel, fourteen thousand feet long, was cut to reach the great basin.

The track up to this time had reached its highest elevation at the Great Salt Lake. From this point it described a long curve, descending towards Bitter Creek Valley, to rise again to the dividing ridge of the waters between the Atlantic and the Pacific. There were many creeks in this mountainous region, and it was necessary to cross Muddy Creek, Green Creek, and others, upon culverts.

So far, the track had reached its highest point at the Great Salt Lake. From there, it curved in a long arc and descended toward Bitter Creek Valley. Then it climbed again to the ridge separating the waters flowing to the Atlantic and the Pacific. There were many creeks in this mountainous region. The track had to cross Muddy Creek, Green Creek, and others on culverts.

Passepartout grew more and more impatient as they went on, while Fix longed to get out of this difficult region, and was more anxious than Phileas Fogg himself to be beyond the danger of delays and accidents, and set foot on English soil.

Passepartout grew more impatient as they went on, while Fix longed to leave this difficult region. Fix was even more anxious than Phileas Fogg to escape the danger of delays and accidents and reach English soil.

At ten o’clock at night the train stopped at Fort Bridger station, and twenty minutes later entered Wyoming Territory, following the valley of Bitter Creek throughout. The next day, 7th December, they stopped for a quarter of an hour at Green River station. Snow had fallen abundantly during the night, but, being mixed with rain, it had half melted, and did not interrupt their progress. The bad weather, however, annoyed Passepartout; for the accumulation of snow, by blocking the wheels of the cars, would certainly have been fatal to Mr. Fogg’s tour.

At ten o’clock at night, the train stopped at Fort Bridger station. Twenty minutes later, it entered Wyoming Territory, following the valley of Bitter Creek the whole way. The next day, December 7, they stopped at Green River station for fifteen minutes. A lot of snow had fallen during the night, but it had mixed with rain and half melted. It did not interrupt their progress. The bad weather worried Passepartout, however. A buildup of snow could block the train’s wheels, which would certainly ruin Mr. Fogg’s tour.

“What an idea!” he said to himself. “Why did my master make this journey in winter? Couldn’t he have waited for the good season to increase his chances?”

“What was he thinking?” he said to himself. “Why did my master make this journey in winter? Couldn’t he have waited for better weather to improve his chances?”

While the worthy Frenchman was absorbed in the state of the sky and the depression of the temperature, Aouda was experiencing fears from a totally different cause.

The good Frenchman was absorbed in the sky and the falling temperature. Aouda, meanwhile, was afraid for a completely different reason.

Several passengers had got off at Green River, and were walking up and down the platforms; and among these Aouda recognised Colonel Stamp Proctor, the same who had so grossly insulted Phileas Fogg at the San Francisco meeting. Not wishing to be recognised, the young woman drew back from the window, feeling much alarm at her discovery. She was attached to the man who, however coldly, gave her daily evidences of the most absolute devotion. She did not comprehend, perhaps, the depth of the sentiment with which her protector inspired her, which she called gratitude, but which, though she was unconscious of it, was really more than that. Her heart sank within her when she recognised the man whom Mr. Fogg desired, sooner or later, to call to account for his conduct. Chance alone, it was clear, had brought Colonel Proctor on this train; but there he was, and it was necessary, at all hazards, that Phileas Fogg should not perceive his adversary.

Several passengers had gotten off at Green River and were walking up and down the platforms. Among them, Aouda recognized Colonel Stamp Proctor. He was the same man who had so rudely insulted Phileas Fogg at the San Francisco meeting. Not wanting to be recognized, she drew back from the window, deeply alarmed by the discovery. She was attached to Fogg, who showed her complete devotion every day, however coldly he expressed it. Perhaps she did not understand the depth of the feeling her protector inspired in her. She called it gratitude, but without realizing it, she felt more than that. Her heart sank when she recognized the man Mr. Fogg intended to hold accountable for his conduct, sooner or later. Clearly, Colonel Proctor had boarded the train by chance. But he was there, and Phileas Fogg had to be kept from seeing his adversary, whatever the cost.

Aouda seized a moment when Mr. Fogg was asleep to tell Fix and Passepartout whom she had seen.

While Mr. Fogg was asleep, Aouda took the opportunity to tell Fix and Passepartout who she had seen.

“That Proctor on this train!” cried Fix. “Well, reassure yourself, madam; before he settles with Mr. Fogg; he has got to deal with me! It seems to me that I was the more insulted of the two.”

“That Proctor is on this train!” cried Fix. “Well, don’t worry, madam. Before he settles things with Mr. Fogg, he’ll have to deal with me! I think I was the more insulted of the two.”

“And, besides,” added Passepartout, “I’ll take charge of him, colonel as he is.”

“And besides,” added Passepartout, “I’ll take charge of him, even if he is a colonel.”

“Mr. Fix,” resumed Aouda, “Mr. Fogg will allow no one to avenge him. He said that he would come back to America to find this man. Should he perceive Colonel Proctor, we could not prevent a collision which might have terrible results. He must not see him.”

“Mr. Fix,” Aouda continued, “Mr. Fogg will not let anyone avenge him. He said he would return to America to find this man. If he sees Colonel Proctor, we could not prevent a confrontation that might have terrible results. He must not see him.”

“You are right, madam,” replied Fix; “a meeting between them might ruin all. Whether he were victorious or beaten, Mr. Fogg would be delayed, and—”

“You are right, madam,” replied Fix. “A meeting between them could ruin everything. Whether he won or lost, Mr. Fogg would be delayed, and...”

“And,” added Passepartout, “that would play the game of the gentlemen of the Reform Club. In four days we shall be in New York. Well, if my master does not leave this car during those four days, we may hope that chance will not bring him face to face with this confounded American. We must, if possible, prevent his stirring out of it.”

“And,” added Passepartout, “that would work in favor of the gentlemen of the Reform Club. We’ll be in New York in four days. Well, if my master stays in this train car for those four days, we may hope he won’t run into that annoying American by chance. If possible, we must keep him from leaving the car.”

The conversation dropped. Mr. Fogg had just woke up, and was looking out of the window. Soon after Passepartout, without being heard by his master or Aouda, whispered to the detective, “Would you really fight for him?”

The conversation stopped. Mr. Fogg had just woken up and was looking out the window. Soon afterward, Passepartout whispered to the detective, without his master or Aouda hearing him, “Would you really fight for him?”

“I would do anything,” replied Fix, in a tone which betrayed determined will, “to get him back living to Europe!”

“I would do anything to get him back to Europe alive!” Fix replied, his voice full of determination.

Passepartout felt something like a shudder shoot through his frame, but his confidence in his master remained unbroken.

Passepartout felt something like a shiver run through his body, but his confidence in his master remained unshaken.

Was there any means of detaining Mr. Fogg in the car, to avoid a meeting between him and the colonel? It ought not to be a difficult task, since that gentleman was naturally sedentary and little curious. The detective, at least, seemed to have found a way; for, after a few moments, he said to Mr. Fogg, “These are long and slow hours, sir, that we are passing on the railway.”

Was there a way to keep Mr. Fogg in the train car, so he would not meet the colonel? This should not have been difficult, since Mr. Fogg preferred to sit still and was not very curious. The detective, at least, seemed to have found a way. After a few moments, he said to Mr. Fogg, “The hours pass slowly on this train, sir.”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Fogg; “but they pass.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Fogg, “but they pass.”

“You were in the habit of playing whist,” resumed Fix, “on the steamers.”

“You used to play whist,” Fix continued, “on the steamships.”

“Yes; but it would be difficult to do so here. I have neither cards nor partners.”

“Yes, but it would be hard to do that here. I don’t have any cards or partners.”

“Oh, but we can easily buy some cards, for they are sold on all the American trains. And as for partners, if madam plays—”

“Oh, but we can easily buy some cards. They sell them on all American trains. And as for partners, if you play, madam...”

“Certainly, sir,” Aouda quickly replied; “I understand whist. It is part of an English education.”

“Of course, sir,” Aouda quickly replied. “I know how to play whist. It is part of an English education.”

“I myself have some pretensions to playing a good game. Well, here are three of us, and a dummy—”

“I think I play a fairly good game myself. Well, there are three of us and a dummy...”

“As you please, sir,” replied Phileas Fogg, heartily glad to resume his favourite pastime even on the railway.

“Whatever you like, sir,” replied Phileas Fogg. He was delighted to return to his favorite pastime, even on the train.

Passepartout was dispatched in search of the steward, and soon returned with two packs of cards, some pins, counters, and a shelf covered with cloth.

Passepartout was sent to find the steward. He soon returned with two decks of cards, some pins, counters, and a cloth-covered shelf.

The game commenced. Aouda understood whist sufficiently well, and even received some compliments on her playing from Mr. Fogg. As for the detective, he was simply an adept, and worthy of being matched against his present opponent.

The game began. Aouda knew whist well enough, and Mr. Fogg even complimented her on her play. The detective was an expert, a worthy match for his present opponent.

“Now,” thought Passepartout, “we’ve got him. He won’t budge.”

“Now,” thought Passepartout, “we’ve got him. He won’t move.”

At eleven in the morning the train had reached the dividing ridge of the waters at Bridger Pass, seven thousand five hundred and twenty-four feet above the level of the sea, one of the highest points attained by the track in crossing the Rocky Mountains. After going about two hundred miles, the travellers at last found themselves on one of those vast plains which extend to the Atlantic, and which nature has made so propitious for laying the iron road.

At eleven in the morning, the train reached the watershed at Bridger Pass, 7,524 feet above sea level. It was one of the highest points on the track through the Rocky Mountains. After traveling about two hundred miles, the travelers finally reached one of the vast plains that stretch to the Atlantic. Nature had made these plains well suited for laying railroad tracks.

On the declivity of the Atlantic basin the first streams, branches of the North Platte River, already appeared. The whole northern and eastern horizon was bounded by the immense semi-circular curtain which is formed by the southern portion of the Rocky Mountains, the highest being Laramie Peak. Between this and the railway extended vast plains, plentifully irrigated. On the right rose the lower spurs of the mountainous mass which extends southward to the sources of the Arkansas River, one of the great tributaries of the Missouri.

On the slope toward the Atlantic basin, the first streams were already coming into view. They were branches of the North Platte River. The southern Rocky Mountains formed a vast semicircular curtain across the entire northern and eastern horizon. Laramie Peak was the highest of the mountains. Vast, well-watered plains stretched between Laramie Peak and the railway. On the right rose the lower spurs of the mountain range. The range extends south to the sources of the Arkansas River, one of the Missouri's great tributaries.

At half-past twelve the travellers caught sight for an instant of Fort Halleck, which commands that section; and in a few more hours the Rocky Mountains were crossed. There was reason to hope, then, that no accident would mark the journey through this difficult country. The snow had ceased falling, and the air became crisp and cold. Large birds, frightened by the locomotive, rose and flew off in the distance. No wild beast appeared on the plain. It was a desert in its vast nakedness.

At twelve thirty, the travelers caught a brief glimpse of Fort Halleck, which overlooks that section of the country. A few hours later, they had crossed the Rocky Mountains. There was reason to hope that the journey through this difficult country would pass without an accident. The snow had stopped falling, and the air grew crisp and cold. Large birds, startled by the locomotive, rose and flew away into the distance. No wild animals appeared on the plain. The vast, bare plain was a desert.

After a comfortable breakfast, served in the car, Mr. Fogg and his partners had just resumed whist, when a violent whistling was heard, and the train stopped. Passepartout put his head out of the door, but saw nothing to cause the delay; no station was in view.

After a comfortable breakfast served in the train car, Mr. Fogg and his partners had just resumed playing whist. Then a loud whistle sounded, and the train stopped. Passepartout looked out the door but saw nothing that might explain the delay. No station was in sight.

Aouda and Fix feared that Mr. Fogg might take it into his head to get out; but that gentleman contented himself with saying to his servant, “See what is the matter.”

Aouda and Fix feared that Mr. Fogg might decide to get out. But he simply said to his servant, “See what is wrong.”

Passepartout rushed out of the car. Thirty or forty passengers had already descended, amongst them Colonel Stamp Proctor.

Passepartout rushed out of the car. Thirty or forty passengers had already gotten out, including Colonel Stamp Proctor.

The train had stopped before a red signal which blocked the way. The engineer and conductor were talking excitedly with a signal-man, whom the station-master at Medicine Bow, the next stopping place, had sent on before. The passengers drew around and took part in the discussion, in which Colonel Proctor, with his insolent manner, was conspicuous.

The train had stopped at a red signal blocking the way. The engineer and conductor were talking excitedly with a signalman. The stationmaster at Medicine Bow, the next stop, had sent him ahead. The passengers gathered around and joined the discussion. Colonel Proctor stood out for his rude manner.

Passepartout, joining the group, heard the signal-man say, “No! you can’t pass. The bridge at Medicine Bow is shaky, and would not bear the weight of the train.”

Passepartout joined the group and heard the signalman say, “No! You can’t pass. The bridge at Medicine Bow is shaky and wouldn’t support the weight of the train.”

This was a suspension-bridge thrown over some rapids, about a mile from the place where they now were. According to the signal-man, it was in a ruinous condition, several of the iron wires being broken; and it was impossible to risk the passage. He did not in any way exaggerate the condition of the bridge. It may be taken for granted that, rash as the Americans usually are, when they are prudent there is good reason for it.

This was a suspension bridge over some rapids, about a mile from where they were now. According to the signalman, the bridge was in ruins, and several of its iron wires were broken. It was impossible to risk crossing it. The signalman was not exaggerating the bridge’s condition in any way. Americans are usually reckless, so one can assume that when they are cautious, they have good reason to be.

Passepartout, not daring to apprise his master of what he heard, listened with set teeth, immovable as a statue.

Passepartout did not dare tell his master what he heard. He listened with clenched teeth, standing as still as a statue.

“Hum!” cried Colonel Proctor; “but we are not going to stay here, I imagine, and take root in the snow?”

“Hmm!” cried Colonel Proctor. “But surely we're not going to stay here and take root in the snow?”

“Colonel,” replied the conductor, “we have telegraphed to Omaha for a train, but it is not likely that it will reach Medicine Bow in less than six hours.”

“Colonel,” the conductor replied, “we’ve telegraphed Omaha for a train. But it’s unlikely to reach Medicine Bow in less than six hours.”

“Six hours!” cried Passepartout.

“Six hours!” exclaimed Passepartout.

“Certainly,” returned the conductor, “besides, it will take us as long as that to reach Medicine Bow on foot.”

“Of course,” replied the conductor. “Besides, it will take us just as long to walk to Medicine Bow.”

“But it is only a mile from here,” said one of the passengers.

“But it’s only a mile from here,” said one of the passengers.

“Yes, but it’s on the other side of the river.”

“Yes, but it’s on the other side of the river.”

“And can’t we cross that in a boat?” asked the colonel.

“And can’t we cross that in a boat?” asked the colonel.

“That’s impossible. The creek is swelled by the rains. It is a rapid, and we shall have to make a circuit of ten miles to the north to find a ford.”

“That’s impossible. The rains have swollen the creek, and the current is too fast. We’ll have to go ten miles north to find a place to cross.”

The colonel launched a volley of oaths, denouncing the railway company and the conductor; and Passepartout, who was furious, was not disinclined to make common cause with him. Here was an obstacle, indeed, which all his master’s banknotes could not remove.

The colonel unleashed a stream of curses against the railway company and the conductor. Passepartout was furious and was inclined to join him. Here was an obstacle that not even all his master's banknotes could remove.

There was a general disappointment among the passengers, who, without reckoning the delay, saw themselves compelled to trudge fifteen miles over a plain covered with snow. They grumbled and protested, and would certainly have thus attracted Phileas Fogg’s attention if he had not been completely absorbed in his game.

The passengers were generally disappointed. Besides the delay, they faced a fifteen-mile walk across a snow-covered plain. They grumbled and protested. They would certainly have caught Phileas Fogg’s attention if he had not been completely absorbed in his game.

Passepartout found that he could not avoid telling his master what had occurred, and, with hanging head, he was turning towards the car, when the engineer, a true Yankee, named Forster called out, “Gentlemen, perhaps there is a way, after all, to get over.”

Passepartout realized he could not avoid telling his master what had happened. He was turning toward the car with his head down when Forster, the engineer and a true Yankee, called out, “Gentlemen, perhaps there is a way to get across after all.”

“On the bridge?” asked a passenger.

“On the bridge?” asked a passenger.

“On the bridge.”

“On the bridge.”

“With our train?”

“With our train?”

“With our train.”

“With our train.”

Passepartout stopped short, and eagerly listened to the engineer.

Passepartout stopped suddenly and listened eagerly to the engineer.

“But the bridge is unsafe,” urged the conductor.

“But the bridge isn't safe,” the conductor insisted.

“No matter,” replied Forster; “I think that by putting on the very highest speed we might have a chance of getting over.”

“Never mind,” Forster replied. “I think if we go at top speed, we might have a chance of getting across.”

“The devil!” muttered Passepartout.

“Damn!” muttered Passepartout.

But a number of the passengers were at once attracted by the engineer’s proposal, and Colonel Proctor was especially delighted, and found the plan a very feasible one. He told stories about engineers leaping their trains over rivers without bridges, by putting on full steam; and many of those present avowed themselves of the engineer’s mind.

But the engineer’s proposal immediately appealed to a number of passengers. Colonel Proctor was especially delighted and thought the plan was very practical. He told stories about engineers who had driven trains across rivers without bridges by going at full steam. Many of those present agreed with the engineer.

“We have fifty chances out of a hundred of getting over,” said one.

“We have a fifty-fifty chance of getting across,” said one.

“Eighty! ninety!”

“Eighty! Ninety!”

Passepartout was astounded, and, though ready to attempt anything to get over Medicine Creek, thought the experiment proposed a little too American. “Besides,” thought he, “there’s a still more simple way, and it does not even occur to any of these people! Sir,” said he aloud to one of the passengers, “the engineer’s plan seems to me a little dangerous, but—”

Passepartout was astonished. Though ready to try anything to cross Medicine Creek, he thought the proposed experiment was a little too American. “Besides,” he thought, “there’s an even simpler way, and none of these people has even thought of it! Sir,” he said aloud to one of the passengers, “the engineer’s plan seems a little dangerous to me, but...”

“Eighty chances!” replied the passenger, turning his back on him.

“Eighty chances!” the passenger replied, turning his back on him.

“I know it,” said Passepartout, turning to another passenger, “but a simple idea—”

“I know,” said Passepartout, turning to another passenger, “but a simple idea...”

“Ideas are no use,” returned the American, shrugging his shoulders, “as the engineer assures us that we can pass.”

“Ideas are no use,” the American replied, shrugging. “The engineer assures us that we can pass.”

“Doubtless,” urged Passepartout, “we can pass, but perhaps it would be more prudent—”

“Of course,” said Passepartout, “we can get through, but perhaps it would be wiser...”

“What! Prudent!” cried Colonel Proctor, whom this word seemed to excite prodigiously. “At full speed, don’t you see, at full speed!”

“What! Careful!” cried Colonel Proctor, who seemed wildly excited by the word. “At full speed, don’t you see? At full speed!”

“I know—I see,” repeated Passepartout; “but it would be, if not more prudent, since that word displeases you, at least more natural—”

“I know, I see,” Passepartout repeated. “But it would be, if not more sensible, at least more natural. I know you dislike the word ‘sensible.’”

“Who! What! What’s the matter with this fellow?” cried several.

“Who? What? What’s wrong with this guy?” several people shouted.

The poor fellow did not know to whom to address himself.

The poor fellow didn't know whom to speak to.

“Are you afraid?” asked Colonel Proctor.

“Are you afraid?” asked Colonel Proctor.

“I afraid? Very well; I will show these people that a Frenchman can be as American as they!”

“Me, afraid? All right. I’ll show these people that a Frenchman can be just as American as they are!”

“All aboard!” cried the conductor.

“All aboard!” called the conductor.

“Yes, all aboard!” repeated Passepartout, and immediately. “But they can’t prevent me from thinking that it would be more natural for us to cross the bridge on foot, and let the train come after!”

“Yes, all aboard!” Passepartout repeated at once. “But they can’t stop me from thinking it would be more natural to cross the bridge on foot and let the train follow!”

But no one heard this sage reflection, nor would anyone have acknowledged its justice. The passengers resumed their places in the cars. Passepartout took his seat without telling what had passed. The whist-players were quite absorbed in their game.

But no one heard this wise observation, and no one would have agreed that it was fair. The passengers returned to their seats in the train cars. Passepartout sat down without telling anyone what had happened. The whist players were completely absorbed in their game.

The locomotive whistled vigorously; the engineer, reversing the steam, backed the train for nearly a mile—retiring, like a jumper, in order to take a longer leap. Then, with another whistle, he began to move forward; the train increased its speed, and soon its rapidity became frightful; a prolonged screech issued from the locomotive; the piston worked up and down twenty strokes to the second. They perceived that the whole train, rushing on at the rate of a hundred miles an hour, hardly bore upon the rails at all.

The locomotive whistled loudly. The engineer reversed the steam and backed the train up nearly a mile, like a jumper backing up to make a longer leap. Then, with another whistle, he started forward. The train picked up speed, and soon it was moving at a frightening pace. The locomotive let out a long screech. The piston moved up and down twenty times a second. They could see that the whole train was racing along at a hundred miles an hour, hardly touching the rails.

And they passed over! It was like a flash. No one saw the bridge. The train leaped, so to speak, from one bank to the other, and the engineer could not stop it until it had gone five miles beyond the station. But scarcely had the train passed the river, when the bridge, completely ruined, fell with a crash into the rapids of Medicine Bow.

And they made it across! It happened in a flash. No one saw the bridge. The train seemed to leap from one bank to the other. The engineer could not stop the train until it had gone five miles past the station. But as soon as the train had crossed the river, the ruined bridge crashed into the rapids of Medicine Bow.