poppy-plant, which bears thirty-two thousand seeds; to the tobacco-plant, which produces three hundred and sixty thousand? In a few years, without the numerous causes of destruction which arrest their fecundity, these plants would overrun the earth."
But the engineer had not finished his lecture. "And now, Pencroft," he continued, "do you know how many bushels four hundred thousand millions of grains would make?"
"No," replied the sailor; "but what I do know is, that I am nothing better than a fool!"
"Well, they would make more than three millions, at a hundred and thirty thousand a bushel, Pencroft."
"Three million!" cried Pencroft.
"Three millions."
"In four years?"
"In four years," replied Cyrus Harding, "and even in two years, if, as I hope, in this latitude we can obtain two crops a year."
At that, according to his usual custom, Pencroft could not reply otherwise than by a tremendous hurrah.
"So, Herbert," added the engineer, "you have made discovery of great importance to us. Everything, my friends, everything can serve us in the condition in which we are. Do not forget that, I beg of you."
"No, captain, no, we shan't forget it," replied Pencroft; "and if ever I find one of those tobacco seeds, which multiply by three hundred and sixty thousand, I assure you I won't throw it away! And now, what must we do?"
"We must plant this grain," replied Herbert.
"Yes," added Gideon Spilett, "and with every possible care, for it bears in itself our future harvests."
"Provided it grows!" cried the sailor.
"It will grow," replied Cyrus Harding.
This was the 20th of June. The time was then propitious for sowing this single precious grain of corn. It was first proposed to plant it in a pot, but upon reflection it was decided to leave it to nature, and confide it to the earth. This was done that very day, and it is needless to add, that every precaution was taken that the experiment might succeed.
The weather having cleared, the settlers climbed the
